Recently, we’ve encountered a different kind of ministering to one of our youth girl’s than we’ve ever had before. Marie* came home one night, thought nothing of her father not being up at the time, and went to bed. The next morning, she noticed the bathroom door had been shut. She was too afraid to go in, but she knew. Marie’s father died of a heart attack the night before.

I found out from Marie’s ex-boyfriend, who had called that Sunday afternoon and left me a message on my mobile phone. When I listened through the message, I was shocked, of course, and immediately gave Marie a call. She answered, unaware that I knew. She sounded almost too calm. She was still in shock.

The next day I spoke with her a bit more. She confessed then, when I asked her if I could come see her, that she was a little overwhelmed with all the visits and condolences. She expressed, “I’m tired of everyone telling me they’re sorry.” Why is it that we do that - that we try to always make it better by apologizing even when we had nothing to do with what happened? I gave her the option of coming over to my house instead, to get away from all the noise and clutter that goes along with planning a funeral for your father when your mother doesn’t even live in the same state. Marie’s mother did come down that night. But I fear she only smothered her even more.

The next night, Marie came over to my house, but her mom came in with her, and only let her stay 15 minutes. I could see the way Marie was holding back, the way she was being held back.

After the funeral the next day, in which my husband was a pallbearer, I realized that this young heart, turned 18 a week later, is strong and resilient, even if she doesn’t feel that way yet. I saw her stand and greet a long receiving line of people, with tears in her eyes sporadically, but she was still standing. And smiling even.  

I haven’t gotten to spend much more time with her - just giving her a bit of breathing room now. But in the end, it’s strange to say, but I feel something about all of this happening to her has set her free. Her wings are about to give way to flight.

*name changed to protect identity