Kristen Elizabeth Stories

Ever since that day, I have been afraid to live, afraid to die, but mostly afraid to love. That was the day death stared me in the eye and took from me what I loved and wanted most. My baby girl.

I prayed that I would conceive her. I prayed that you would protect her. I prayed for a safe delivery. I even prayed that you would bring her back to life. But you didn’t.

I have another daughter. I prayed that I would conceive her. I prayed you would protect her. I prayed for a safe delivery. She almost died, but then she didn’t. She lived. She is twenty now and I have spent every day afraid to love her. When she was little she was so attached to me and it haunted me every day. I had learned the day her sister died that to love isn’t safe. Here in this world love always ends in some sort of pain for someone because death is inevitable. I couldn’t bear the thought, the possibility, that something would happen to me and my daughter would have the one she loved most taken from her. I knew what that felt like and I couldn’t let her ever feel that sort of pain. I had to protect her. I had to keep her safe. And, so, I tried to keep me at arms length from her heart. Yet, how can a mother do that? It seemed impossible. But, I couldn’t let her get close to me. It was too dangerous for her.

Good Friday is today. I guess that’s what reminded me of what happened that night. I was so tired. Miah was 4 years old. I knew my heart couldn’t see what it needed to see. I knew you would show me if I asked you, but I was so scared of you, too. (That’s a story for another day.) Terrified as I was to look at your face and ask my questions, I decided there was no other way and so with a shaking in terror body, I prayed and asked you to tell my heart what it needed to know so I could be free to love my little girl with all my heart and let her love me with all of her precious little heart. Do you remember what you told me? You told me what I was most afraid to hear. You told my heart, “To love isn’t safe, but it’s good. I loved.”. Somehow it being good seemed to overshadow just a bit the not being safe part.

I thought about you being human and how you loved your mom, your brothers, your disciples and how you held no part of your heart back from them. You loved them fully knowing they would feel the pain of losing you in this world. You knew to love is not safe, but that it’s good. And so you loved. You loved fully. You taught them, just like you taught me, to do the same.

I know Good Friday is many other things than this, too. But, today, this is what I remember when I remember what you did on that cross. I can’t not be afraid to love, but I can love because of how you demonstrated you love to me through how you lived, loved and died here on earth.

I know this is probably a strange Good Friday reflection. But, it’s what is in my heart. And you know me. You know my heart.

Thank you, Jesus. Amen