Last night out on the track it was Good Friday. And I couldn't help but think about our interactions with the girls in light of this significant night. This significant moment we stop to pause and allow ourselves to lament. To cry. Sunday is coming, yes, but it is not here yet. We are left with the tension of despair and darkness and hope and gratefulness. Kingdom Come. They say it is "already, but not yet" - and most days it just feels like not yet, because the "already" is so hidden. 

And this is what our girls face on a daily basis. They live on Friday night. They live in the despair and darkness of the defeat of death, and it is up to us to bring the power of the resurrection. To let them know that Sunday IS coming. That things can be different. That death is defeated and the Kingdom has come…and is coming.

But we have to be willing to sit with them in the darkness. In the pain. Not everyday can be Sunday. Friday and Saturday had to come before. And I think we are uncomfortable with those days. We don't like to hear about the mother who is out on the track because she just has to buy her kid some diapers and formula. We don't want to hear about the girl who is out on the track because she tried to get away several times before but her pimp found her every time. We don't want to hear about the young lady who is on the track because dad is in jail, mom is on drugs and she's got siblings at home to take care of. We don't want to hear about the young mother who is out on the track because her 9 month old got cancer and she has to find a way to pay the bills. Those stories make us uncomfortable. We want to jump to the success stories. To making it all better and offer solutions. It is hard to just sit in the pain. To cry with someone. And to realize all you have to offer them is hope.

Hope.

It is so powerful. But Hope with Faith is even better. Hope that is built on nothing less than Jesus love and righteousness. On Christ the solid rock, I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. 

Praying for the grace and ability to see the "already" while holding out hope for the not yet.