“I feel like no one understands me, it is like you think you have me figured out and you don’t even know me.”
These words ring in my ears to this moment, even though, they were spoken to me over two hours ago. Is this true? Have I put something where there was nothing? Maybe, but I would have to guess not. I understand this sounds like blabber, but these are the thoughts racing through my brain as I think about what this young teenager said to me. Is it a gift? Perhaps it is a curse, but caring so much and being able to see the hurt in a young girl’s life is something that is as easy to come by as a grocery store tabloid. Am I putting these things on these girls, or am I seeing them inside?
“How did you know that?” This question is one that I have heard on more than one occasion when talking to one of the girls that I work with. I am unsure as to how it happens, or even why, but it is like I can tell when something is wrong. I have, on more than one occasion, even told the girl exactly what it is before she told me herself. It has caught me by surprise a number of times, but what it does most of the time is pierce my heart.
They always say that nothing is wrong, but I know better. I wish that I knew how to explain it, but I am not sure there is any way to. My heart hurts when theirs does, it is like I can feel their pain. Maybe not actually, but I automatically know when they hurt inside. When I sense this pain I try to address the issue. Not to fix the problem, but to be an ear that will listen, a person who cares enough to hear their pain without judgement, or to be a simple word of encouragement.
Sometimes I wish it wasn’t so. Sometimes I wish that I can look past them and tell them to leave it at the door. Life would be easier if I could just not care about anything more than how they perform. In reality, I care less about that and more about how THEY are. I care about helping them see the locked up potential and use cheerleading to pick the lock and let their best flow out freely. I car that they build confidence and self-worth. I want them to know that they don’t have to dress a certain way for people to notice them. I need them to know that there is someone who cares and He is who has sent me to them.
Today I had to have multiple conversations with girls that I could not help but feel as if they were calling out for someone to truly care about them. Not that the people in their lives do not, but for some reason I felt like someone deceived them into thinking that they wanted the attention from the people who would give it to them because there was more of them showing than their clothes. Picking the lock to their potential is a hard task. Especially when it is surrounded by the guardians of pain and suffering.
Can this be real? Is this something that God has given me for His purpose, or am I really reading into things that aren’t even there? Do they really hurt, or am I just implanting these things in their lives so I can feel like I have an impact on them? Can I really see through the walls, or do I really just not get them at all? Is this a gift, or is it a curse? Whatever it is, it sure does hurt a lot to care this much.