Neon Tears

At the starting line
At the starting line

Last night, Katie and I participated in a neon color run. It’s a 5K that was run at 8pm, music blasting, packets of powder exploding in the air, colored powder being thrown at you at different stations. It’s meant to be fun, but last night, that’s not exactly how it went.

At times, my daughter can be a little moody, and I love her through every mood, which is, sometimes, easier said than done. The beginning of the race was exciting. They had techno music blasting, people yelling in unison, jumping up and down, dancing. The energy was alive, and then we took off.

The jogging was nice; we got to talk a little. Everyone was having a good time. Every color station was exciting (and messy). The only downer was that I wanted to take pictures along the way for memories, but Katie didn’t want to. She wanted me to remember in my mind, but at the finish line, I really wanted pictures, so she agreed to take them then.

At the finish line
At the finish line

As we were at the finish line, it was packed with people taking pictures, so there wasn’t much room. I managed to get a selfie with her, but when it came to capturing a body shot of her, people kept getting in the way, and in an instant, as I was holding my phone up to take the picture, she walked away and left me there, in the middle of strangers, covered in color, wanting to cry.

I started walking slowly, like in a trance, having a conversation in my head: “Why am I here?” “…to BE love for her” “How long will it take? How long will she look at me with no expression, glance my way…then glance away, walk away and leave me?” “As long as it takes.” And then, I thought of Jesus.

There were times when He was surrounded by people doubting Him, hating Him, rejecting Him, yet He never lost sight of Who He was, never lost sight of why He was there. I want to grow into that place, where I won’t be discouraged by the actions or moods of others. I will get there, but for now, I’m learning.

I began to realize that she’s on her own journey, makes her own choices, feels her own ways, hides behind her own walls. Someday, those walls will come down, and she’ll look at me with a smile, and I will see her love for me in her eyes; she’ll walk up and hug me for no reason; she’ll “want” to sit down and talk with me, until then, God will be busy collecting my tears in a bottle.

I wonder if those bottles are marked: “The Love for Her Children,” “When She is Lonely,” “Until She Believes,” “For the Lost,” etc. There was a change in her mood though. Maybe it was my praying. Maybe she thought about leaving me behind. Something…because in the car, she started different conversations. She RARELY starts conversations with me, so I received them, talked with her, and didn’t reveal to her the hurt I had experienced. I will continue to BE love for her, and someday, she’ll encounter God’s love and will realize that it’s okay for her to love her mommy.

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