Crying in a gray room.

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry (Psalm 10:17).
Let me tell you a story.
Last week Nick and I finished painting the littles' bedroom, we cleaned up, went down stairs, made some dinner and went about our evening.  Hours later I made my way back upstairs and admired the perfect gray color on the walls. It was late, quiet and I decided to sit down. I parked myself on the carpet in the corner of their room and I let my mind wander.  I pictured what this room looked like in my mind's eye two years ago when we bought this condo. What expectations I had for it (white patent leather tufted head board, yellow silk quilt, teal lamps). Two years ago I rolled my eyes at the thought of kids ever living in this condo.  Nope - this was going to be our swanky, young, hip couple condo.  The kids would come later when we owned the starter English cottage with a yard.

Ha. Well, we know what happened to that though, don't we?

Then I thought about what this room will be in a few months.  A refuge for little ones? A scary place full of new smells, sights and strange surroundings? New bed, new toys, new everything?
Could you imagine being a small child who, within a matter of hours, is traumatized by a family member, taken away from the only home you've ever known, driving away in a stranger's car and then being dropped off at a different stranger's house?  I looked at the door in the room and pictured holding a small, frightened child's hand as they walk into this room for the first time.

Then I cried. I prayed and cried.  I cried for the sorrow that these children must carry. I cried for the sadness that will be in this room.

When we walked  into the condo two years ago with our real estate agent, I had no idea what God would do in our guest bedroom. I had no idea of the path he would put us on. He knows the names and faces of the little ones who will sleep in this perfectly painted gray room. He knows the pain that will break their heart and mine. It's an overwhelming thought.

A couple days later the Lord encouraged me with an out-of-the-blue phone call.  A friend who I haven't spoken with in months called me.  She said the Lord put Nick and I on her heart recently and she had been praying for us. Then she said she shared our story with her women's Bible study and they have been praying for us.  It was such an encouraging conversation about God's faithfulness and such a perfectly timed whisper from the Lord.  He knew I needed a little encouragement, and he orchestrated a precious phone call.

I know the goal is hope for these kids. But to get to the hope, we will help the little ones walk through the pain. They have to process their trauma so they can begin healing.
God is good and he will give us the grace to stand beside these children and hold their frightened, little hands as they walk toward hope - in a perfectly painted gray room.