For the One Who Doesn't Recognize Themselves Anymore

I remember going through old boxes of photographs, poems, songs, and stories I'd written over the years. I was in my 40s, and for someone who had spent so much of her adult life feeling lost from who she was, finding those photographs opened up a part of my childhood I hadn't visited in a long time.

I saw this little girl smiling, playing, roller-skating, and enjoying moments of her childhood. But I also knew things about her that nobody looking at those photographs would know.

I knew some of the sadness she carried. I knew the heartache, and I remembered the things she had come to believe about herself because of what she'd experienced.

And my heart broke open for her.

I wanted to reach into those photographs and give her a hug. I wanted to tell her that she was the strongest little girl I knew and that she was so loved. I wanted her to understand that the people who had hurt her were broken people themselves, and that what happened to her was not her fault.

But more than anything, I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to hide from me.

I knew she loved Jesus. I knew that sometimes He felt like the only safe friend she had, and I wanted to tell her to keep holding on to Him because He would continue holding her throughout all the days of her life.

I couldn't go back and change what happened to that little girl, but looking at those photographs helped me see her differently. Instead of looking back through the pain and confusion of what I'd experienced, I was beginning to look at her with the love and compassion I wished she had known.

And I think that was another part of my healing. I wasn't trying to erase what happened or pretend those years hadn't affected me.

I was finally able to look at that little girl and love her.

If you've ever felt lost, or you've reached a place in your life where you don't recognize yourself anymore, I want to invite you to try something.

Find a quiet place to sit for a little while, and think back to an age when you can remember yourself as a little boy or little girl. You might even have an old photograph you can look at, but you don't need one.

Now imagine that child sitting in front of you.

What do you see when you look at them? What do you remember about who they were, the things they loved, the things that made them laugh, or even the things they were afraid of?

And if you could reach over and give that child a hug, what would you want them to know?

Would you tell them how strong they were? Would you remind them that they were loved? Would you tell them that some of the things they blamed themselves for were never theirs to carry?

If you feel comfortable, I encourage you to write that little boy or little girl a letter. Tell them the things you wish someone had told them back then. You don't have to write about everything that happened, and you don't have to find the right words. Just write from your heart.

And as you're writing, I want you to remember something.

That little boy or little girl is part of your story. The things they loved, the things they wondered about, and the things they experienced are all part of the person you've become.

You may discover that you've spent so much time looking at yourself through the things that hurt you that you've forgotten to see the person who was there all along.

And maybe, as you begin to look at that child with love and compassion, you'll begin to see yourself a little differently, too.

And remember, YOU are loved.