Heaven's Rain
Meghan stood as if frozen to the wet grass under her feet. Raindrops plinked off the metallic roof of her rental car. Her umbrella hung unopened at her side. The rain felt good, cleansing ... almost.
With a deep breath she moved one foot in front of the other, eyes never leaving her destination. When her wet canvas shoes touched the edge of the rain soaked dirt pile, she breathed deep, surprising her. She hadn't consciously held her breath.
The earthy smell assaulted her nose. Despair threatened to claim her and she felt bile rising in her throat. Hadn't countless hours and God knew how many dollars been spent so she could stand here today? Yet at this moment of reality, none of it made any difference.
She could still hear the angry footsteps above her head, feel the dust falling on her face. Her hiding place was a tiny crawl space under the porch. She felt the chill of the dirt under her body and remembered the blackness all around her. She hadn't changed. She was still that frightened, abused little girl.
“Oh, God, you have to do something. I so desperately want to be free!” She reached down and grabbed a clump of the muddy earth. “How can I forgive this evil man? How can you restore all that he has stolen?” She threw the mud with all her strength at the tombstone ahead of her.
Again, images came to her. A door opening at night. The reek of his body odor mixed with alcohol filling her nose as his hot breath was in her face.
She dropped to her knees with fists raised and beat the dirt pile. Tears of rage poured down her rain soaked face and dropped to the mud. Pain and anger exploded inside of her.
“You were supposed to protect me! Why did you hurt me? Why? Oh, Daddy, why?” She looked to the tombstone expecting it to speak somehow.
Meghan leaned back on her heels. She hugged her knees and began to rock. Her eyes remained fixed on the cold, wet stone.
William J. Pruit
b. Aug. 2, 1947
d. Oct. 3, 2005
“Heavenly Father,” Meghan began to pray. “I feel so lost right now. I need to speak out my pain to you. Do you know how devastated I felt when the one that should have protected me hurt me? I feel sick when I remember how terrified I felt when I couldn’t find a safe place. I learned to trust no one. I was violated, lied to, and disregarded. I still can’t fully trust even you. I am so angry! Why didn't you step in? Where were you?” Meghan shook her fist at the sky filled with clouds. “Answer me!” she gritted between her teeth.
Only rain poured down on her upturned face. She closed her eyes tight and pursed her lips in anger. Again Meghan waited, just as she had done for years.
A picture came to her mind. A man, gentle looking and kind was standing behind a wall. His hand was reaching over it. There were tears in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. Beyond him, just out of reach stood a man and a child. Meghan could tell by the child's wide eyes and pale face that she was frightened. She was reaching for the hand of the kind man, but the other man was holding her back.
Without hesitation Meghan spoke out loud to the mound of dirt, “It was your sin.”
“No more.” Meghan clenched her fists and let the words settle deep in her mind. God had always been there, weeping for her. It was her father’s choices, his sin and not hers, that had kept her from protection. God hadn’t failed.
Relief filled her. Her father's wicked debt was now in God's hands; she no longer had to keep it's account.
She stood and let the cleansing rain wash over her entire body. She opened her arms and held them out in a symbol of the release she now felt. For the first time in her life she allowed herself to revel in the true and perfect love of her Heavenly Father.
With a deep breath she moved one foot in front of the other, eyes never leaving her destination. When her wet canvas shoes touched the edge of the rain soaked dirt pile, she breathed deep, surprising her. She hadn't consciously held her breath.
The earthy smell assaulted her nose. Despair threatened to claim her and she felt bile rising in her throat. Hadn't countless hours and God knew how many dollars been spent so she could stand here today? Yet at this moment of reality, none of it made any difference.
She could still hear the angry footsteps above her head, feel the dust falling on her face. Her hiding place was a tiny crawl space under the porch. She felt the chill of the dirt under her body and remembered the blackness all around her. She hadn't changed. She was still that frightened, abused little girl.
“Oh, God, you have to do something. I so desperately want to be free!” She reached down and grabbed a clump of the muddy earth. “How can I forgive this evil man? How can you restore all that he has stolen?” She threw the mud with all her strength at the tombstone ahead of her.
Again, images came to her. A door opening at night. The reek of his body odor mixed with alcohol filling her nose as his hot breath was in her face.
She dropped to her knees with fists raised and beat the dirt pile. Tears of rage poured down her rain soaked face and dropped to the mud. Pain and anger exploded inside of her.
“You were supposed to protect me! Why did you hurt me? Why? Oh, Daddy, why?” She looked to the tombstone expecting it to speak somehow.
Meghan leaned back on her heels. She hugged her knees and began to rock. Her eyes remained fixed on the cold, wet stone.
William J. Pruit
b. Aug. 2, 1947
d. Oct. 3, 2005
“Heavenly Father,” Meghan began to pray. “I feel so lost right now. I need to speak out my pain to you. Do you know how devastated I felt when the one that should have protected me hurt me? I feel sick when I remember how terrified I felt when I couldn’t find a safe place. I learned to trust no one. I was violated, lied to, and disregarded. I still can’t fully trust even you. I am so angry! Why didn't you step in? Where were you?” Meghan shook her fist at the sky filled with clouds. “Answer me!” she gritted between her teeth.
Only rain poured down on her upturned face. She closed her eyes tight and pursed her lips in anger. Again Meghan waited, just as she had done for years.
A picture came to her mind. A man, gentle looking and kind was standing behind a wall. His hand was reaching over it. There were tears in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. Beyond him, just out of reach stood a man and a child. Meghan could tell by the child's wide eyes and pale face that she was frightened. She was reaching for the hand of the kind man, but the other man was holding her back.
Without hesitation Meghan spoke out loud to the mound of dirt, “It was your sin.”
“No more.” Meghan clenched her fists and let the words settle deep in her mind. God had always been there, weeping for her. It was her father’s choices, his sin and not hers, that had kept her from protection. God hadn’t failed.
Relief filled her. Her father's wicked debt was now in God's hands; she no longer had to keep it's account.
She stood and let the cleansing rain wash over her entire body. She opened her arms and held them out in a symbol of the release she now felt. For the first time in her life she allowed herself to revel in the true and perfect love of her Heavenly Father.
posted by "Ruby" at 2:39 PM
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