God Is Punching My Heart
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God is Punching My Heart
By Pamela J. Watkins
The kids at school think I’m weird because I don’t talk much . It is because I have an awful secret that I don’t want them to know. I cry in the shower so mommy won’t hear how sad I am. I worry a lot about my daddy and I miss him all the time. It makes my tummy hurt. I try not to think about him while I am at school because I get tears in my eyes. The other kids at school all have daddies. It is not fair. I feel like God is punching my heart. I know my dad did something against the law. It must have been real bad because he might have to stay in prison for the rest of his life. I love him no matter what he did. He is not bad. My mom and grandma take me to visit him once a month. It stresses my mom out a lot to go to the penitentiary called the New Rock in Lompoc, Ca. but she takes me because I ask her too. It takes five hours to drive there in our van. It makes me feel so sad that Daddy can’t ever leave there. It is not a nice place. I can only see him in the visiting room with prison guards watching us. One time I got sick in my stomach after our visit and I threw up on one of the guards shoes. I prayed and prayed to Jesus to let my daddy come home. I felt like God was not listening to me. Then I learned that God can turn that prison upside down and shake daddy out of there if He wanted. When I turned ten, I believed with all my heart that God would bring my Daddy home for Christmas because I prayed as hard as I could all the time. I was sure God could and would give me this miracle if I kept praying hard enough. Christmas came but Daddy did not get to come home. My heart was broken. I could not understand what I was doing wrong….God knew my pain, yet He would not give me my daddy back. God kept telling my heart to wait. And that’s all I could do. I confided to Jesus that all I wanted was for my dad to see me graduate from high school. Mom cried and told me that nobody was going to be able to bring daddy home. That he was serving a forty year sentence. I knew that God could because I still heard His voice in my heart saying “wait my child.” An attorney filed a pro bono appeal for my dad which means for free, because we had already spent all our money trying to help Daddy to no avail. It went to the fifth circuit court and a federal judge sent daddy a seven page letter explaining why he was denying the appeal. Daddy had already been in prison for seven years now, and this appeal was his last hope. Still I prayed. Still I heard the voice in my heart whispering “Wait”. A week after the last appeal had been denied, the attorney called my mom at work and said, “I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t looking at it on my desk.” The federal judge had changed his mind, something which I have learned does not happen very often. In the year 2000, I was graduating from high school and my daddy had been in prison for ten long years. Tears ran down my face as I accepted my diploma and waved to my daddy who had been freed only three days before the ceremony.
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Marvelous tesimony! Pamela, thank you so much for sharing this...It brings tears. Your title grabbed me right away, and you did a good job maintaining the voice of the heartsick young girl through the piece. Through your skillful imagery, I could taste her pain and longing, and what it cost her to keep believing the Holy Spirit's tender voice. For a breathtaking finale, you could draw out and paint the graduation scene even more than you did. God bless your beautiful gift of expression!--Sherry
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