The Child of Love sat with Love Himself, sharing the stories of her heart with Him in what had once been the quietest place inside of her. Now that space felt different. It had become a place where healing was happening, even if she didn’t fully understand it yet. She didn’t come with perfect words or anything prepared. She came with the truth she had been carrying for a long time… truth that felt heavy, truth that still hurt, truth she had learned to keep to herself because it never seemed to be received well anywhere else. For a moment, she hesitated, not because she didn’t have anything to say, but because she wasn’t used to being fully heard. Then, slowly and honestly, she began to speak.

“Growing up… I felt unheard. It felt like the people who could have listened just didn’t. It felt like I had to soften what I felt, reshape it into something that would sit better with them, or tuck it away completely just to keep the peace. Sometimes when I spoke from my heart, it felt like it was too much for anyone to really stay and listen to. It felt like what I was saying didn’t land the way they wanted it to, or didn’t matter enough for them to stay with me in it. After a while, I stopped saying things the same way, and I started holding things in instead. But it felt really lonely to carry something real inside me and have nowhere safe for it to go.”

She didn’t rush through her words. She let them come out the way they had been sitting inside of her.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share… I did. I wanted to be seen, to be heard, and to be known for who I really was. But the ones who said they loved me didn’t always give me the freedom to be real. So I learned to hold parts of myself back, not because they weren’t there, but because they didn’t feel safe to share. And deep down, it felt like something inside me kept asking… will the real me please stand up and finally get to be heard?”

She paused for a moment, then continued.

“There were times when I wasn’t even allowed to say what I really felt, and even when I tried, it had to come out a certain way… softer, smaller, more acceptable. I learned how to rewrite what I was feeling before I even said it. I learned how to condense it, filter it, and dress it up so it wouldn’t feel like too much for someone else to hear. And sometimes, I just didn’t say anything at all. I kept it inside.”

She took a breath and went a little deeper.

“So I created a place inside of me… a storehouse within me. It became the place where I kept the things I couldn’t say, the feelings I couldn’t show, and the thoughts I couldn’t fully express. I didn’t know what else to do with them, so I stored them there. It felt like I carved the stories of my heart into the walls inside of me, just so they would have somewhere to exist… even if no one else ever heard them.”

Her voice softened, but she didn’t stop.

“I think that’s why relationships have been hard for me, because I never felt like I really had permission to feel what I feel and say it the way it actually comes out of my heart. It always felt like my feelings had to become something else first before they could be accepted. And over time, I started to believe that my real feelings didn’t count unless they were presented the right way… or unless they were easier for someone else to receive. And even now… that hurt is still there.”

She took another breath, and then her voice went even deeper in her heart sharing something even more vulnerable.

“And there’s more I need to tell You. There were some relationships that felt close for a while, but later I realized their hearts didn’t really make room for the expanse of mine. They talked and talked about everything they were going through, and I made space for them. I listened. I held their stories. I let them be real. I gave them room to pour out their hearts.”

Her voice trembled with truth but this was apart of the healing.

“But one day I realized… there was no even exchange. I had been there for them in their times of need, hearing them, supporting them, being a safe place for their feelings to land. But when it came time for me to share my heart, they were always in a hurry. They didn’t have time. They wanted the short, sweet, condensed version of my stories. Or they postponed when I could be heard. Or they rushed me along like my heart didn’t need the same space I had given them.”

She breathed out slowly as she continued to express the real in her heart.

“It was imbalanced, and it hurt. I listened to them, but they didn’t listen back. And I realized… that isn’t love. Not the kind of love You are. Love is an exchange. Love makes room. Love doesn’t rush me or shrink me or make me feel like my heart is an inconvenience. You never do that to me. With You, there’s no stopwatch running. I don’t have to figure out how my heart fits into Yours. You always make room.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at Him…The Presence of His Love was hugging every word as she continued to speak…

“And there were others… people who did listen to me, but then betrayed me. They shared the private stories of my heart that I trusted them with — stories they promised to keep safe. They gossiped. They broke confidence. And even though I forgave them, I couldn’t trust them with my heart anymore. It wasn’t emotionally safe for me.”

She swallowed gently.

“And the hardest part was… I was already hurting when they did it. I was already going through painful seasons. And instead of helping me heal, they added hurt on top of hurt. That wasn’t love. That wasn’t safety. That wasn’t friendship.”

She placed her hand over her heart.

“But You… You never hurt me like that. You never betray me. You never expose me. You never use my heart against me. You are the One who listens in love. You are the One who keeps my heart safe. And that’s how I learned to be a love listener — because I learned it from You.”

She grew quiet again, then lifted her eyes to Him with a softness that came from healing.

“And there’s one more thing I need to tell You. I forgave them. All of them. The ones who betrayed me. The ones who judged me. The ones who rushed me. The ones who didn’t make room for my truth. The ones who ridiculed me. The ones who spoke hurtful words that made it unsafe for me to share my heart. Their behavior was about them, not me. And even though those relationships lost their pulse… I still pray for them.”

Her voice steadied.

“I pray for their healing. I pray for their hearts. I pray that whatever hurt inside them made them hurt me… that You would touch that place. I pray they won’t keep hurting others the way they hurt me. I pray they learn how to love, how to listen, how to be safe, how to be whole. And I pray they hear my voice — not in anger, not in bitterness, but in love — praying over them.”

She placed her hand over her heart again.

“Thank You for helping me forgive. Thank You for helping me pray. Thank You for giving me the best gift anyone has ever given me — a place where my heart is safe, where my truth is welcome, where my voice matters, where my feelings are honored, and where love is an exchange. Thank You for letting me feel like the Child of Love… not just because that’s my name, but because You actually treat me with love.”

Love Himself leaned in, His presence steady and sure.

“My child… I heard every word you just shared with Me. I heard every feeling behind your words, every memory that still aches, every moment you were silenced, and every time you felt like your real emotions were not welcome. I heard you when you wondered if your voice mattered, and I heard you when you felt invisible. And I hear you now, fully and completely, without distraction, without judgment, and without rushing you. Your heart is never too much for Me. Your feelings are never too loud for Me. Your truth is never inconvenient to Me.”

Something inside her softened when she heard that.

“You were not wrong for wanting to be heard. What you experienced was not a reflection of your worth. It was the limitation of people who did not know how to hold your heart. You were never meant to silence your truth in order to be loved.”

Then His voice deepened — not harsh, but holy, steady, and full of clarity.

“Listening to you is not new for Me. This is who I have always been. I am El Shama — the God who hears you.”

“When Hagar cried in the wilderness, I heard her. When Hannah prayed and no one understood her, I understood every tear. When David said I hear his cry, he was talking about Me. When the blind man called out and others tried to silence him, I stopped for him. When the woman touched My robe, I felt her before she spoke. I have always been the One who hears. And I hear you now.”

As He spoke, something inside her began to shift.

“That storehouse within you… I have always seen it. Every unspoken word, every feeling you’ve held in, every story you carried without a place to release it… none of it has been hidden from Me. You put those things there because you needed somewhere safe, and I was with you even there.”

His gentle Presence stayed right there with her.

“But you were never meant to carry all of that alone forever. I am the One who helps you clean the storehouse within you, not by erasing your story, but by bringing it into the light of My love. Nothing you have lived, felt, or carried is wasted to Me. Your story matters to Me, all of it. You do not have to rewrite your heart here. You do not have to dress your words up for Me. You can say what you really feel, exactly how it comes out, and it will be received.”

She felt something beginning to settle down inside of her.

“So I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to edit what I feel or change how it comes out just to be heard. I can be real and still be received. I can bring what’s been in the storehouse within me and place it here with You.”

Before He spoke again, Love Himself looked at the storybook she had placed into His hands — the stories of her heart, carved in honesty, carried for years, now finally entrusted to Him. He held it with reverence. Then He lifted His eyes to her, and His voice softened into something deep and tender.

“My child… you have given Me a precious gift. You placed the stories of your heart into My hands. You trusted Me with what was real, with what was fragile, with what was hidden, with what was sacred. And I receive it with joy.”

He paused, letting the weight of that truth settle.

“And now… I have a gift for you.”

Her breath caught gently.

Then — with a movement that felt both simple and eternal — He reached into His Heart, and in His hands appeared a book. Not just any book. A living book. A glowing book. A book that carried the warmth of His presence. The Bible. His Word. His promises. The stories of His heart.

He placed it into her hands the same way she had placed her storybook into His.

“This is My gift to you,” He said softly. “The stories of My heart. My promises. My truth. My love written down for you. Every word in this book carries My voice, My presence, My faithfulness. And just as you trusted Me with your stories… I trust you with Mine.”

Her fingers curled around the book, and she felt its weight — not heavy, but holy.

“When you read these words,” He continued, “you are reading My heart. When you hear these promises, you are hearing My voice. When you hold this book, you are holding My love for you.”

He smiled gently.

“You gave Me your story… and I give you Mine.”

And then — with the Bible now resting in her hands — He began to speak His Word over her, not as distant scripture, but as personal truth, alive and directed straight to her heart.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
“My child… that is why I am close to you now. I am honoring My Word in you. I am staying near because your heart has been broken, and I will not leave you in that place alone.”

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in Your book.” — Psalm 56:8
“Every tear you cried, I held. Every sorrow you carried, I counted. Nothing slipped past Me. Nothing was ignored. Nothing was wasted. I have honored every tear by keeping it, not losing it.”

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you.” — John 14:27
“This peace you feel right now… it is Mine. I am giving it to you. Not the world’s version, not temporary comfort — but My peace, the kind that stays, the kind that holds you from the inside.”

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3
“And this is what I am doing in you. I am binding up the places that were torn. I am healing the places that were wounded. I am keeping My promise to you — not from a distance, but from right here, holding your heart as I heal it.”

She placed her hand gently over her heart and let out a soft breath.

“You hear me, Father of Love… and I love You for it.”

And that hug on the inside stayed with her, something she could come back to again and again, in the quiet, in the healing, in the UpperRoom https://youtu.be/EUjFVYjmbs8?si=AyHIbiCV-XnlsAysof her heart, where Love Himself would always meet her… Heart2Heart

Heart2Heart in  His Love,

Momo Smiley