I stood outside in the rain with a bunch of us huddled under a tarp trying to stay dry. I talked to a grandmother, an aunt, and Veronica, confused. I don’t know why they have to leave. I know I’m not going to convince them to stay so I take that time to be with Veronica. I didn’t care that I was getting soaked as I held her and whispered into her ear how much I love her and how much I believe in her.
I know I haven’t written a blog for a really long time. Sometimes I hope my blogs are funny, or witty, or thought provoking. This one is just hard.
It is hard to say how much I love Veronica. Somehow I feel like we have a really hilarious connection; somewhere between her preteen eye rolls and my “make good choices” speech. She’s ten and I have been tutoring her since I moved here. She is in third grade again this year, but it has been different. Veronica has grown so much and not just academically, but I was beginning to see a little glimmer of believing in herself.
Last week, her grandmother, who she lives with, decided to move to another city. Veronica went with her. I know I will see her, I’ve already seen her once since this, but, gosh, I will miss pouring into her on a weekly basis. I miss her little face showing up at whatever home visit I am doing, walking with her, holding her hand.
It’s selfish to think that the best thing for her would be to stay. I pray it will be better for her there. That she has people who really believe in her. Who see her worth and value and call that out of her. But she took a bit of my heart with her.
Darling girl, it’s not worth it if your heart does NOT ache! I will be praying for you and Veronica. Please, give my love to Lisa, Nidia and Norlan and keep lots for yourself. God loves you and so do I!!!
Lean into HIM. Keep pouring into your world, we keep praying for you and all that God does through you.
Maybe you can take some comfort in knowing you have already made a big difference in her life that will help her the rest of her life. And hopefully this move will help Veronica in ways we cannot yet understand. Love you, Dad