God has graced me with the gift of Mercy so that I can feel and understand the pains of others and then bring them- both the person and their pain- to God in prayer. Prior to the 17th of this month, I believe a part of me ran away from this gift because of fear and ignorance. Today I run towards this gift, joyfully welcoming and graciously accepting God’s call on my life.

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She was my little Munchkin

May 5, 2006 was the day that I consciously became an aunt. Biologically and chronologically, I had become an aunt almost one year earlier when my nephew was born but I was not aware of him or his parents until December 2009. Yet on Cinco de Mayo 2006, my eldest sister was in a hospital on a French-owned island giving birth to my first of three nieces, my Munchkin, Arielle.

I was so excited to meet her! Her birth granted new titles to my mother and my siblings and we were so just waiting for the day when my sister and her new baby would be able to fly to Baltimore to meet us all. There is no word to describe how much I wanted to hold her in my arms and when the day finally came, my joy could be felt, seen, and heard all the way in France itself.

Munchkin was my very own special name for her because, although she was (and still is) several shades lighter than me, she looked just like me when I was a baby- all cheeks! Her bright smile radiated in both every room she entered and every heart that she encountered. She was my sister’s miracle baby and I was overjoyed to have her in my life.

I held her and loved her like she was my very own. As years went by, distance and disagreements caused my relationship with her mother to change, thereby changing my relationship with her.

Reconciling the change in our relationship has been difficult to say the least, yet on Saturday night God spoke to me in a brief moment, reminding me that the Ari (her chosen nickname) before me was still the same little Munchkin that I had held in my arms 17 years ago.

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Trauma is a nasty … trip

You would think that with me being a childhood trauma survivor, I would be a little bit more welcoming of others who have experienced trauma themselves. In some ways, I am; yet in other ways, I struggle to separate the pain that I am feeling, from the people who hurt me.

That’s exactly what happened with my Munchkin. For far too long, I could not separate my hurting niece from her mother- my sister- who had caused me so much hurt. Listing out here the hurts that I have experienced at the hands of my sister would only paint the picture of justifiable anger that I do not want to perpetuate. My sister and I have experienced a tumultuous 15 or so years and our relationship has shifted from bad to volatile, but none of that means that my niece deserves to suffer for our sins.

Yet that’s exactly what happened. My relationship with Arielle fell as a tragic victim in the war between me and her mother. As her mother and I grew apart, the loving auntie image of me that Arielle once had faded into oblivion and it was replaced with tales better written than fiction. Things had gone so wrong that when Arielle moved north to live with my mother (her grandmother) and became a student at the high school where I work, animosity, prejudice, and disdain replaced standard pleasantries for far longer than I’d like to admit.

Yes, I am the victim of years of trauma that I just recently got my bearings on healing from… but Arielle is just a teenager who does not know what she does not know and still needs grace to heal. Trauma knows no color, age, or economic status. It rears its ugly head and humbles even the most arrogant of them all.

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Grace Unveiled

Ever since I preached at my church in July, God has been actively and visibly working on my relationship with my niece. We speak to one another and have shared some laughs here and there. God also revealed that I still had some healing to do because instead of seeing my niece for the individual person that she is, I looked at her and saw my sister… which did not allow me to be kind to her. God had to humble me so much, while continuing to work through me, because it is not easy to sit here and admit that I harbored unhealed hurt towards a 17 year old girl, at my big age of 37.

Over the past few days, God has unveiled something beautiful- love. Saturday night as I stood up helping Arielle take out her faux locs, His truth hit me like a mighty wind. Although Arielle is chronologically 17 years old, her pain and lack of formal structure makes her younger than her years. I don’t say that in a negative way, Beloved; pain has a way of causing us to “grow up” too fast and we miss important building blocks that are otherwise obtained in our childhood. I missed everything after age 6; Arielle missed even more than that. For one reason or another, our childhoods were stolen from us and now we sit in the places where we are today, healing and learning how to repair relationships that were once broken.

Saturday also caused me to see that Ari is Arielle, who is still my little Munchkin. May the love that I held in my heart for her in 2006, come back to my heart and mind every time that I see her today and forever.

Thank You, Lord, for Your healing power!

Be blessed.