Combat Stress: Finding Your New RhythmSýnishorn

Let Me Tell You a Story

My daughter, where do I begin? Let me tell you a story. There once was a little girl, with eyes sparkling bright and lips that stretched toward pink cheeks when she smiled. She liked to reach her hands up high, fingers outstretched, and the wind would brush back her hair. She knew she was delighted in, that she was magnetic, that when I looked at her, I was captivated.

She liked to run through forest where she had never been before. She felt safe. There was no place she couldn’t go where I wouldn’t be. So, she ran and jumped and laughed, and the music of her laughter made my heart swell. It was the music of her heart full and pure and beautiful.

She was rescued, and she didn’t know it. So, she felt free. Her feet were bare, her toes touching the soft textures of meadow grass and the smooth rocks collected at the side of streams. She was seen and known and loved. She ran freely, collecting different sizes of rocks and flowers along the way.

She ran unencumbered, unhesitatingly, knowing where she was going but never knowing the way. I was with her, the two of us, keeping pace along the path. I would protect her off the path, and she fell sometimes. But she knew she was not alone, and she was not afraid.

This little girl grew, in strength and with words. She knew joy and contentment. She knew where to rest her head, and she knew that when a battle called her to stand and fight she could do it. For she knew I went with her.

This little girl heart is what is most beautiful about you. It is what lives within you. It is where I invite you to come in deeper, look for Me more, let Me come and rescue you again. And again. For you know now you have been rescued. You remember, I am the one who makes you free.

Oh, my darling girl, my rescued one, my girl in white who captivates Me and grows strong and ever more confident in how I love you. Raise your head now, dear one. The road has been long and hard, but still, you are my mighty, beautiful girl who holds my hand and likes to walk barefoot in streams.