The Amish Voice 9
Security in Who?
—
Steve Stutzman
Steve Stutzman and his wife Dorcas
work with the Door of Hope counseling
ministry in North Carolina. Much of
their outreach is aimed at helping inner
city youth and people who survived
wrecked homes and are trying to regain
purpose and direction in life.
Steve writes:
She walked into my office like
she owned the world – not cocky, just very
confident and self-assured. She was young;
too young, I thought, to be selling ads for the
top TV station in the state. Usually
advertisers had to work their way up from
Yellow Pages thru Newspaper to Radio, but
not her. She was already at the top of her
game.
We bought some ads from the station. In the
process, we had several encounters with the
sales lady. One such encounter happened
when my wife was running the sales
desk.
They talked together and connected.
After
some
time,
the
conversation turned personal. It
got interrupted occasionally, by
customers or by one of my little
dippers toddling around the premises.
But eventually the questions came
blurting out.
Who are you? What do you believe
anyway? Why are you so happy? What
is that thing on your head? My wife
laughed, and you have to understand: her
laugh is pure music. She explained
salvation and God and Christ. She spoke of
our relationship, of God's order, of the
security she found in it, and how God's ways
work.
After a moment’s distraction, my wife turned
and saw that the lady was gone. Looking
through the window toward the parking lot,
she saw the car still sitting there. The lady
did not return, so my wife went on a
concerned hunt for her.
She found the girl crumpled down against the
office wall, around the back of the building.
The confidence had fled; the self-assurance
was running out of her eyes and streaking the
carefully applied make-up. My wife,
horrified, tried in vain to remember what she
had said that wounded this lady so deeply.
It took just a little time for her to compose
herself enough to reply, "They told me, I am
in charge of my own life. They said never
depend on anyone else, but look out for #1,”
she sniffled. “I did. I did it all. I got A's in
school, and graduated college at the top of
my class. I got who and what I thought I
wanted. I landed a top sales position right out
of school. I have money to blow, a new car,
my own house, and a live-in boyfriend. I
have it all—but you . . . ," and she burst into
tears again. When she composed herself, she
went on. "But you have EVERYTHING I
WANT." More tears. I knew right away
when I heard the story she wasn't talking
about me. She wasn't even talking about my
little girls, even though they could melt a
statue with their eyes. She wasn't
referring to anything that could be seen.
Way down inside something
awakened in her that day,
something that cried out, a
hunger and a desire that all
women feel deep in their
hearts. She was dying to
feel secure.
Her heart was longing to
be truly loved, to be
cared for and protected.
To be given not only
what it wanted, but
what it needed, even if
it could not understand
what that was. To cast
off the heavy yoke of day-to-day cares in
the battle of the work scene, and be a little
carefree girl again, full of joy, with laughter
that sounded like music. And to feel the
security of someone who cared enough to say
NO.
I don't know what became of her. I have
sometimes wondered. What could she do,
after she realized the system had lied to her
and trapped her in a scenario of having
everything, yet being completely devoid
inside?
Young bride, what you are willing to give
your life for, is that feeling of security.
Cheated wife, this is what makes the
situation so painful: the security has been
stolen from your grasp.
Fathers, this is what drives the girls in your
care, from the one-month old, to the 80-year-
old girl on the rocker. They want to feel
secure. Those little girls on the floor with
their big eyes need to be held and talked to
gently. Those school-age girls need to have
attention that lets them feel like someone
cares. Those teens need to have their dad’s
approval and affection, and feel his big arms
giving them a hug once in a while. They
NEED it, like a flower needs sun and like a
bee
needs nectar.
Dads, don't starve them.
Satan is already holding
out his 'apples'
with a 'yea
hath
God
said' smirk
on his face.
Feed
your
little girl’s need to feel secure, and his evil
plans will lose their allure.
Wounded, starving girl-hearts—Jesus is the
answer. He alone can truly fill the desire for
security that was left cold and bare by an
absent daddy. He has oil for your wounds,
payment for your sins, healing for your pain,
help for your hopelessness, and value for
your shame.
I know not everyone reading this is in the
same place in life. I realize that for some, the
pain is too deep, and for others the whole
thing clangs like a gong, and you feel
nothing. For some it’s buried too deep. But
somewhere down there beats the heart of a
little girl that just wants to feel safe.
It is for that girl that I fight?!
PS: If the images of a girl being loved by her
daddy bring up any kind of ugly thoughts or
feelings, please get help. It is not natural, and
you can be set free. —Steve Stutzman
