Another Blog About Pickles


Yesterday,  a friend told me about some girls who picked on her in elementary school.  They would steal her Susie Q snack cake out of her lunch box every day.  Her mom, having enough of the taunting and the tears, made a plan.  She carefully removed the cream filling of a Susie Q, replacing it with pickles.  Covering her deception with fudgy cake and icing, she resealed the treat in its neat little packaging and placed it in the corner of the lunch box.

Needless to say, my friend never again skipped dessert.

My daughter is learning the hard way that people are not always kind, friends not always friends, and life is not always easy.  She hid it from us for a long time, and we missed a few things along the way.

Jason thought it was endearing that she suddenly insisted he walk her to class every morning, held on to his leg as the bell rang, and asked him not to leave.  I looked forward to her coming to PE and wrapping her arms around me, being slow to let go and slow to leave.  I didn’t know she actually just needed a little extra love.

This week she reached her breaking point, and the flood gates have opened.

  As I have listened to her dilemmas and seen her tears, her brokenness has broken my heart.  Her pain feels like an unbearable load.

I am not angry or disappointed with the parties involved.  I have no need for vengeance, and my head tells me that this too shall pass.   She is not the first to endure these things, and this is not the end of what she faces.  I just can’t stop crying. Until now,  I had no idea how deep a parent’s love truly goes, how deep a parent feels their child’s pain.

I think I get why Jesus wept.  When Lazarus died, He saw the grief of Mary and Martha and He cried with them.  He knew the miracle He would perform, that Lazarus would live, and He still cried.  He hurt, because He saw the pain and grief of these women that He loved.  Their brokenness, broke His heart.

When tragedy strikes, when life is hard, when we suffer; we often wonder what happened to God.  We question His love, wonder how He could allow these things, and plead with Him to love us enough to take it all away.

When our pain leaves us wondering, we just need to remember.  Jesus wept.

The height and depth and width of His love is beyond comprehension.   The closest we can get to even begin to understand is simply knowing that it is the love of a father.  A love , running so deep,  He weeps when we hurt.

I do not think I can solve my daughter’s troubles with pickles.  Though I considered it for a moment.  I, in fact, have no real desire to let her run away or let me save her from what she is going through.  I desire only to walk her through it, to let her hold on a little longer than usual, to help her find her way. 

God may not save us from our troubles.  But He will walk with us, let us hold on as long as we need to, He helps us find our way.  And, when necessary, He will use pickles.

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