Lauren had spent the weekend in our home. It was morning when i walked into her room and found her on the floor, in the corner by the window, with a pillow and blanket... and an expressionless face. She responded to my good morning, but i knew it was not going to be a good day. It had not been a good night. She had not slept... she was angry... she wanted to leave and just go home. She wanted to put everything back into a box and live the best she could. Without feelings. Without acknowledgement of her pain. The ache had been there a long time. She was letting it all come to the surface. It seemed too hard to let it all come out. She was broken. She knew it. I left her room when talking with her did not seem to bring her out of the dead place where she was. She was exhausted and said she would sleep and we could go to church. She would be here when we got home and then she would leave. I left the room to talk to jerry. We prayed. We did not leave to go to church. I let her sleep.
When i walked back into her room there was still that heavy feeling of pain and depression lingering in the air. It had not gone away. And Lauren had not slept. My words to her were matter of fact. "Jerry and I talked, and you are not going home. You are staying here until you are better. You are not going to be alone." She wanted to fight me about this decision we made without her--- and i was ready to fight her as well. She was not leaving. Period. At that moment, I know she did not like me. But I loved her and she was staying under our wing. As long as she needed to.
So it began. Lauren lived with us for 2 months. She became like a daughter to me. I loved her and cared for her more than I cared for myself - and at times more than I cared for my husband. She was broken, hurt, in pain and needed to be carried. I grew to know her pain very well and feel her ache. I cried over her when she had no tears. I prayed over her when she did not know where her God was. I loved her when she did not love herself.
I was learning to love lauren through her depression.
2 comments:
This story makes me want to weep. Bless you for your sweet heart and compassion to Lauren.
You have taught me the true meaning of love. You lived love out loud. "Thank you" is too small to offer back. I love you "irregardless."
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