Apple Juice Date

I invited my younger self out for coffee.

He came and ordered apple juice instead.

I set my heavy burdens down.

My body grateful for the reprieve.

He came with a backpack as well … it was full of coloring books and crayons.

Interesting.

We sat and laughed about memories we both shared.

He listened in amazement while I told him things I’ve seen.

I sat in wonder as I saw him light up while he told me how much he loved reading and

playing outside.

I told him — I miss that.

Driving was not as hard as we thought it would be.

Turns out, we enjoy it.

Then he turns the conversation.

Dread covers my face.

I knew it was coming.

He asks about a family.

I tell him … we do not have one of our own.

No kids. No wife.

He asks about a job.

I say we are still struggling to find a career

that could support a future family.

He asks about a car.

I tell him … it was repossessed.

What does that mean?

It means they took away our car because I fell behind on the payments.

Oh.

“Well, at least we have a big home — with a big screen TV and all the video games we

want,” he says, smiling.

I hesitate…

I tell him we slept in the car for a year before they took it.

Now we are staying with Mom again.

Sleeping on the floor.

He stops asking questions.

Is it because he is afraid of what I will say?

Is it because he sees something breaking in me?

Instead of pressing,

he offers silence.

I sit across from him in that silence.

In shame.

I’m terrified.

I can’t even look at him.

Seconds.

Then minutes.

But not an hour.

I look up…

The chair is empty.

Here come the tears.

I can’t blame him. I had braced myself beforehand, but it still hurts.

Suddenly.

I feel his arms around me.

Here come more tears.

I choke out in raw, unfiltered pain — I know I failed us, and I’m so sorry

I tell him I’m doing my best.

The hatred I have for myself bubbles up and threatens to flood my heart

I feel immense guilt and anger at the disappointment that I caused him.

He trusted me, and I’ve failed him.

I’ve failed us.

And what will I say to the future when it is I who sits opposite my older self?

That appointment has been made.

And in my own tortured mind…

I’m a disappointment to my past and my future.

Suddenly, like a piercing knife through the fibers of my anger…

He says he forgives me.

What??

He says he loves me.

I’m speechless.

He begins to caress my scar-filled face—

each scar a painful reminder of different battles … I wonder what he sees?

Then I look into his sweet, perfect face…

I see peace.

I see innocence.

I see the love of my Savior.

In an instant, the new creation I am recognizes that look.

I see a child of God.

Read next: My Father and Our Father

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