My son had made a mistake. One I was ready to forgive. No ... one I had already forgiven. Now, we were left to walk down the path from this mistake to a place of peace.
I won't share the mistake with you ... out of respect for him and respect for other people who were involved. I will only share what I saw that day. What that day taught me.
It's been several months since the day I stood still. But, it was one of those moments ... one where you can close your eyes and feel each breath, each word. Each tear. Clay was beside me. Jerry on the other side of Clay. Cold wind went straight through my jeans and sweat shirt. Clay stood there. Shivering. Cold from the early spring air and cold from the words that another person let fly out of their mouth. The words were directed toward Clay and ... toward the three of us. There was name calling and blame thrown at Clay. It wasn't necessary. He had already admitted fault and accepted blame. I was so proud in that moment. Proud of the man my boy had become. Proud of his strength when faced with incredible hurt. Clay stood still. He did not do what many young men his age would have done. Clay did not even show acknowledgement of the words thrown at him. We were surrounded by both acceptance from some people and absolute judgement and condemnation from others. Those words, once spoken, became fiery arrows ... they met their intended mark. In my heart. It is one thing to have other people call you names and belittle you ... one thing to have other people condemn you. It is a totally different feeling to have them do those same things to your child.
Don't misunderstand me. I saw their side of the situation. I put myself in their position and asked ... "What would I have done if those tables were turned?". I understood their anger and where that anger came from ... fear.
I'm not sure how long we stood their listening to those words. It felt like a long time. The cold wind was seeping into my bones and making it feel like forever. Then, my husband stepped between me, Clay and the words being shot. He said several things to try and snuff the anger. Trying to reason with the words and to help the person throwing them ... see ... peace. It didn't work. The words got louder and more hurtful. Then, Jerry did something I will never forget ... He slowly walked between us. Between the place where Clay and I stood and the person these words were coming from. Jerry didn't say words of hate or bitterness. He calmly walked in a way that made this person ... back down.
And, I felt safe in his love. Just as I always have ... for over 23 years. Jerry knew I was near my breaking point. The point where I couldn't take anymore. He knew Clay had heard enough hate. Felt enough pain. In my heart, I felt he was saying ... "Enough, they are mine. I won't let you do this to them."
That day is in the past. But, what I saw carries me still. I saw my husband love his family the way God loves His Family. God will allow a certain amount of pain, hurt and trials to come into our lives. To shape us. Mold us. And, He will only tolerate so much hurt amed at His children. He knows when we can't take anymore. It is then that He steps between us and the hurt. And, He says, "Enough. They are Mine. No more."
And we are Safe in His Love.
Psalm 34:7 "The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, And delivers them."
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