Who is going to speak for them?

Mondays are often hard. Mondays following a pretty amazing long weekend with family are especially hard. And then there are Mondays which start off by a greeting from one of my investigators, with pretty horrific photos, concerning a particularly heartbreaking fact situation, which under even the best case scenario is likely to end very badly.

This has been my morning. And it's quite frankly had me down. And in the midst of all the bad, I reached out to a friend who works in this field also, and said, “Tell me again why I do this job?” And her response to me was the following: “Who else is going to speak for him?” Which stopped me in my tracks. Because what I want to respond and say is, I don’t care, as long as it’s not me. But the truth is, I do care. Because when I realized the court hearing was likely to be scheduled next week when I’m at TBRI training, I immediately started figuring out who could cover the hearing for me and what I needed to do to make sure they were prepared. Because I do care. And I hate that I’m not going to be there to speak for this little boy. It isn’t that there aren’t plenty of highly trained attorneys in my office more than capable of covering this hearing for me. It’s that I’m not going to be there to speak for him.

This job is often discouraging. And exhausting. And frustrating. And absolutely heartbreaking. But somebody has to speak for these kids when they cannot speak for themselves. And I am grateful that God has entrusted that job to me, until such time as he decides to use me elsewhere. I am grateful for the dedicated and tireless professionals I get to work with who work so tirelessly and fiercely to protect children. I am grateful for the friends he has placed in my life who help me to keep the focus on the kids, rather than on myself. I am grateful for the voice that God has given me. 

May I always be up to the challenge to be a voice for those who are voiceless, a friend to those who are friendless, and a champion for those who are championless. 

In the hardest of times, when my heart is breaking, and I just don’t think I can do it even one more day, may I never forget that God has placed me here for a purpose bigger than myself.  And may I stand back up, put on my warrior’s armor, and get ready to fight once again. For those who cannot fight for themselves. Because I do care.  

Who is going to speak for them?