Young Girl – Stand Up

by | 2007 | Real Stories

I was that young girl and over a decade later if I could just talk to her. If God would allow me to just whisper into her ear and comfort her. To help relieve the agony the dwells insider her bosom and alleviate the disappointment that she felt that she had lain on the doorsteps […]

I was that young girl and over a decade later if I could just talk to her. If God would allow me to just whisper into her ear and comfort her. To help relieve the agony the dwells insider her bosom and alleviate the disappointment that she felt that she had lain on the doorsteps of her parents and her father’s house.

August, the dead of summer bounces off of the pavement like a boomerang rounding its turn to come and knock you in the face. A young pregnant girl walks into Wal-Mart 7 months pregnant, with her head down low. With the few dollars that she has in her pocket she hopes to be in and out before anyone recognized her or the beach ball under her shirt or the lack of a gold band on her left hand. She plows into the store eager to not make eye contact and blend into the laundry detergent aisle. I was that young girl and over a decade later if I could just talk to her. If God would allow me to just whisper into her ear and comfort her. To help relieve the agony the dwells insider her bosom and alleviate the disappointment that she felt that she had lain on the doorsteps of her parents and her father’s house.

She sees a girl from high school and immediately turns the other direction and swears she will never return to this store. She walks cautiously not to make her flip-flop do just that flip-flop; afraid that the noise may turn someone’s attention to her. Her head still down and her shoulders hovered parallel to the floor she creeps along careful not to make eye contact. Today, I replay this picture over and over in my mind and remember with much regret that day that I ventured into Wal-Mart. That day as I turned the aisle I saw a relative that did not recognize me because I had gained so much weight. I saw an old high school “associate” that made cruel remarks to me, and then I saw her. She was the preacher’s wife and she looked at me and then turned the other way, as if I had embarrassed her. With her head down she promptly walked away. This is the same woman that I had grown up with. I had been a member of her husband’s church since I was in my mother’s womb.   My eyes scattered and darted all around and I found myself on the dog food aisle and hoped no one would see me there.

My child, my daughter, now is twelve and the child I was has now turned into something unexpected – a full grown mature adult that watches political debates and attends the PTA. Yet the redemption of my character is not what this story is about. It is about that scared and ashamed little girl of nineteen – pregnant, hot and swollen. Who was left by her boyfriend and then held in contempt by her community. I want now as a whole person not just broken fragments of the person I was, to talk to her. I was broke in every way that a person could be; broken hearted with broken dreams, and just plain old broke. I want to give her peace. I want her to be able to rest on the knowledge that “this two shall pass” that old things are made new; that the one that she should look to now, is not the preachers wife, but to her comforter – Christ. I want to whisper in her ear that she will make it. I want to reassure her that she will see her daughter grow and eventually, not right away, but eventually; she will become the type of mother that her own mother is proud of.

I want her to know that her path is just beginning and I want to say to her; young lady have faith and be of good cheer. Stand tall and look that woman in the eye and do not allow yourself to be discarded along with yesterday’s news. You have made a mistake, and now you are paying the price …stand up young lady and let him who is without sin cast the first stone. I want to whisper in her ear and remind her of all the things that her mother told her coming up – you can still be anything that you want to be. You are precious and important in the eyes of God. Do not walk around anymore filled with shame and gloom and despair – rise up young girl and be counted. Remember that you are more precious in the eyes of the only one that matters. Take comfort in him. Do not let this materialistic world dictate to you what is right and fair and just. For there will be a justice and a judgment for all of those that have scorned you, and for all of those who turned their back on you. Their will be an acknowledgement of a job well done, and it will come from the lips of your child, and this gift no one can ever take away.

Take heart young girl and lift your head from the dirt and towards the sky and remember that God is the lord of grace and love, and his mercy is everlasting. And Lord, if I cannot whisper into her ear, then let me be a voice to every young woman that made a mistake and lives with the enduring stigma of that transgression every day, in the eyes of those who are to love her the most. Give me a voice to call action to the wrongs that go unnoticed everyday. Lord I ask you to keep your promise, and let the weak be strong, let the poor say I am rich because of what you have done. And I say to all women on this road – rise up and be counted. No longer hang your head down in shame. No longer imagine that those around you have never sinned. No longer allow the whims of others to dictate your self worth. Young Girl stand up. – arise and be counted

Kristie


 Dearest Kristie: The only words that I can say to you Kristie is WOW!  You are an amazing writer.

Yes – so many girls and women feel that there is a stigma with their growing belly.  As they are rejected not only by the father of the baby, but also society and even family.  But we here at the Stand Up Girl website are here to STAND with each and every hurting girl.  To help give her the courage through the only One that can give courage.  Jesus Christ.  The One – the Only.

Thank you for your story.  It really touched my heart.

Luv Lisa 

 

 

 

 

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