I never knew I was a slave until she was born. Yes, a slave. A slave to fear. That fear that something terrible might happen to her, that she could disappear from around me, that she would go through traumas, that fear that…
I haven’t quit the fight in any way. I’m still fighting so that the Truth that has been revealed to me would come out as primary reaction when fear strikes. And I’ve started walking the way to freedom. And today I’ve taken yet one step forward.
My whole being wants to keep her close and protected. But the same whole being wants her enabled to spread her wings and fly.
I want her whole and never touched by pain. But I know that pain will be a part of her life.
For the age she’s at right now I want her guarded. Permanently. By vigil eye. By strong eyes. By eyes that never miss a thing.
And I picture all kinds of scenarios where she crosses the street by herself… my eyes present, without her knowing.
And how, later, she would be crossing many other streets…my eyes present, without her knowing.
And how, even further in time, she would fight against the world… my eyes present, without her knowing.
Countless tears fill my eyes as I realize that this tight space where my soul has been anguishing will not be present, that streets and faraway places and unfriendly worlds to fight will be even scarier than I can imagine because I won’t always be there.
And fear physically hurts. My clenched jaws hurt. The muscles in my neck hurt from trying to hold down the tears I promised I wouldn’t cry.
My eyes hurt. And I look up, eyelids shut tight so that I wouldn’t picture these scenarios, so that I wouldn’t stare fear in its eyes.
Up. Up is where there are other eyes. Vigil eyes. Strong eyes. Eyes that never miss a thing.
And so I take one more step towards freedom, striving to leave slavery behind me. I want – without fear – to be able to look in His eyes. In her eyes.
Mommy, sing that song about The Eyes again!
Thank you for your eyes
That guard my heart
That guard my heart.