bath time.

She writhes in the water, her thrashing dousing me and the entire bathroom, her eyes wild with melodramatic but very real fear. I’m at a loss. We do this every time. Every bath, it comes time to rinse her hair, and she succumbs to uncontrollable fear. Every time, I struggle with the anger. It’s so inconvenient. We do this every time, and every time she’s fine. Why is she so afraid? What is wrong with her? I moderate my voice, speak low and soft against the impatience and frustration.

“We can pray. We’ll pray the whole time I’m rinsing your hair.”

As soon as I start to pray, her body relaxes. I softly ask Jesus to be real to her, to help her to trust him when things scare her, to give her his peace. And she gets it. We do this every time, and every time, it works.

This is the most Christian I feel these days. This is the most real my faith feels to me, watching him be real to her.

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Author: rebekahkayosborn

I am attempting to capture the events, non-events, and thoughts about each, as they occur in the increasing busy-ness of life. As my professors always said "You might want to write this down." Who knows what could turn out to be important?

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