I pulled out my oldest daughter’s baby book the other day and couldn’t help but cry while I was looking at her baby pictures.  One picture in particular grasped my attention.  It was a picture of she and I the day I brought her home from the hospital.  The photo completely captured her innocence, and the hope I held in my heart for her.  Innocence that has long been gone and hope that fades more and more with each passing day.  I mourn the loss of both.

I find myself fearful when the phone rings, and fearful when it doesn’t.  I can find no peace within this situation.  My mind is constantly worrying if today is the day I get that knock on my door.  On one hand I wouldn’t be shocked, but on the other hand, I am so unprepared to deal with something of that magnitude.  But truly, there is no way to prepare for something like that.  I just pray that this sinking feeling I have is wrong.  Please God let it be wrong.

This road she is on is so far away from home and it leads to nothing but jail or death.  Honestly it’s s good day for me if she even gives me a round about idea of where she is at. And as heartbreaking as it is to say, even more honestly, we are probably safer not knowing. As a mother, that is a reality I have not come to terms with yet. My mind knows that, but my heart is screaming at me right now. Screaming so loud I can hear nothing else.

I want to fight for her. I want to save her. With all that said, I can’t. That is such a hard truth to swallow, as a mother. I long for the days of innocence and hope. Yet they have passed.

My heart and soul weep greatly for my precious daughter. She may not be precious in anyone else’s eyes, but she is in mine. God gave her to me. I only wish I understood the road she is on, so maybe, just maybe, I could save her.

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