She's Somebody's Daughter

Her eyebrows and lips were heavily pierced. She had a fuschia streak dyed into her brunette hair.

I wanted to roll my eyes at her appearance but I thought...

She's somebody's daughter.

The sales clerk engaged her in a conversation regarding what she was looking for.

"Green, sexy panties" was her reply as she held up a tiny thong that could hardly be considered underwear. She appeared to be young--maybe just 18 or 19, the age of my own daughter. "Hmpf" I thought.

Then I remembered....

She's somebody's daughter.

"It's St. Patrick's Day and I dance at Woody's tonight", she said.

My heart sank

and tears came to my eyes.

Woody's is the local "gentlemen's" club.

"She's somebody's daughter", I grieved.

Somebody who probably never envisioned that her lovely child would have multiple piercings and pink hair.

Somebody who never thought her little girl would grow up to dance half nude.

Somebody who may be on her knees praying this very moment for her daughter.

And because I'm HIS daughter and He is the only one who can redeem any of us from the pit (no matter what that looks like), I will pray for somebody's daughter.

Lord, give me a heart of compassion and not judgement when I see those who's outsides reflect pain on the inside and give me sensitivity to those who's pains are all hidden on the inside.