I was driving home from Columbia last night with our oldest teen, who joined our family about a month ago. She was telling me a story about being tucked into bed at night and jokingly suggested that I start tucking her in like I do the younger kids.
And so I did. There was sheer joy on her face as she laughed while I made sure she was tucked in sufficiently. Ministering to our older kids is one of the most challenging aspects of our job. They tend to act pretty calloused due to the many hurts they’ve experienced and people who have disappointed them. But it’s moments like last night that provide glimpses of the little child that’s still hidden inside of them. The one who’s scared and just wants to be held when things go wrong; just like our six year old. The one who cries out for structure in the midst of her demand for independence. The one who seeks attention with inappropriate methods because she doesn’t know how to ask for our time.
In the little moment of tucking my teenage daughter in, I was reminded that there’s still hope for her to heal. All innocence hasn’t been lost.
It may take time, but these kids are worth it.
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