I'll Find You (feat. Tori Kelly) // Lecrae

Luke

Nila sleeps on my shoulder the entire flight back to Nashville, and when we land, she keeps her head down and says nothing. I can see the weight of shame on her back, but I don't know what I can say to make it go away. So, I just keep an arm around her shoulders and don't make her talk... maybe because I don't want to push her, or maybe just because I'm a pathetic excuse for a father and once again, I simply have no idea what to say.

As soon as we're back in the part of the airport open before security, I see my wife. I talked to her on the phone last night, but to see her, still standing despite how devastated and afraid she was, lifts just a little of the weight off my chest. Her eyes are puffy... I doubt she's really stopped crying since last night, but relief still floods her face when she sees us, breaking away from where she's standing with Moriah to wrap her arms around our daughter before she's even looked up and seen her.

Nila gasps sharply before she realizes what's happening and buries her face in Courtney's shoulder. She's shaking as I wrap my arms around both of them and feel myself begin to cry yet again as my wife does as well.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Nila whispers, her voice shaking. "I... I... I'm so..."

Coco just shakes her head and holds her tighter. "Shh."

We stay like this for a long moment before Courtney finally, reluctantly, steps back, kisses Nila's forehead, and manages a tiny, shaky smile with water still running down her face. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you two." She takes a deep breath and nods behind her, where Joel and Moriah are greeting each other. "Now go hug your aunt, Sweetheart."

Nila timidly turns that way, and Moriah does the rest, running across the short distance between them to hug her. "Ah, mija..." she murmurs.

"I'm sorry, Mo..."

It's all Nila seems to know to say. It tears my heart out every time she does, because the words are stacked with so much shame, and it's another reminder that I have no idea how to make it go away.

"Va a estar bien," Moriah replies simply, squeezing her a little tighter. "Va a estar bien."

Joel hums softly, stepping over to where they're standing and leaning down to kiss each of them on the head. "That's right," he whispers. "It's gonna be okay."

Nila pulls back a little, looking at me only to shudder away from making eye contact. "Don't we need to go?" she asks softly.

I nod reluctantly with a glance at my phone that tells me it's already ten.... and we don't want to cut it close and risk them making good on their threat to call the police.

"Mary has the kids at our house," I tell Joel, assuming the plan is the same as what we made last night. "And Matt will be outside to drive us, so you take your car, go home, and be with each other."

He manages a half-hearted smile. "Call me when you can, alright?"

"Of course."

He nods a little, then leans down so he's at eye level with Nila. "And you?" There's that moisture in his eyes again. "I love you."

She says nothing, simply closing her eyes and swallowing hard. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder, then, reluctantly, he and Moriah raise their hands in our direction and head in the direction of the shuttle to the parking lot.

I take a deep breath, then take Courtney's hand in one of mine, gather Nila under the other arm, and guide them the other way, to the pickup deck where Matt will be waiting for us.

I spot his car in the lineup soon after we step outside, and we rush that way, with the typical airport scurry that makes you feel like you're the unfortunate frog in Frogger. We slide in and close the doors, greeted by my cousin's smile, tinted with sadness but no less welcoming.

"There they are," he says as we buckle and he waits for his chance to pull out. He twists a little to look at Nila, and I see heartbreak in his eyes. "And there you are," he adds softly. "You priceless child of God, you."

Nila swallows hard, not looking up as she chokes out in a voice that's barely audible, "Hi, Uncle Matt."

The drive to the facility is quiet other than music that I know Matt well enough to know he hand-chose to encourage my daughter in whatever little way he could. "More" by Matthew West, "Someone Worth Dying For" by MIKESCHAIR, "I'll Find You" by Lacrae and Tori Kelly, "Drops in the Ocean" by Hawk Nelson.

When we finally pull into the parking lot of the Christian, in-patient mental health center that we found in our rush to choose before the hospital chose for us, I slide out of the car first, stepping back to get the door for Courtney while Matt does the same for Nila. When she's stepped out, he places his hands on her shoulders and bends down to look at her.

"We all love you so much, my dear," he says softly. "But you know what? Jesus loves you so, so much more. And he's going with you, into the building where I can't, and past the check-in desk where your parents can't. No matter what happens or how alone you feel, He's there with you, because He will never stop loving you. Yeah?"

She closes her eyes and nods wordlessly, so my cousin steps back with tears in his eyes. "Good." He looks up at me and offers a half-hearted smile. "I'll be here when you're done, alright?"

I nod as well as I shrug the backpack Courtney packed for Nila over one shoulder. "Thanks, Matt."

Then, my arm goes around my daughter again, my hand finds my wife's, and we walk inside together.

Nila shutters into me the moment we walk through the doors. She's terrified, and as much as I know this is the right thing to do, it makes me want to pick her up and carry her out of here right now.

A woman at the front desk has a smile waiting for us as soon as we make it through the second set of doors.

"Welcome! How are we today?"

I manage my own smile in her direction. "We're okay, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you!" she says with the same level of enthusiasm as before. "Do we have a check-in?"

I nod as Nila presses even closer into me. "We called ahead last night. Smallbone?"

She types the name into her computer and nods. "There you are! Wait right here, and I will go grab someone to get you started."

She disappears behind a set of frosted glass doors, and we're left in silence other than the soft music playing overhead. A second after I register it, I realize that it's me and my brother singing.

"Dad, listen." The words are barely audible, but I think it's the first thing Nila's said that hasn't been an apology since last night. "They're playing 'It's Not Over Yet'."

I look down at her with a smile that's the most genuine one of mine has been since she last said something that wasn't an apology. "You're right, Darling, they are."

The corners of Courtney's mouth twitch upward as well, despite the water still in her eyes. "I think God did that just for us."

Before I can reply, the doors open again, revealing the receptionist and another woman in the same business casual attire, but with a sense about her that she's a leader.

"Welcome, Smallbones!" She extends a hand to Courtney first. "My name is Julie Weist. I'm the director of admissions here."

My wife shakes her hand before it's offered to me and I do the same. "I'm Courtney, this is my husband Luke, and..."

"And this must be Nila!" Julie exclaims. "It's so nice to meet all of you. I'm so grateful we get to serve you today. We're doing an inpatient check-in, yes?"

Courtney and I nod together. Nila presses into me even more.

"Perfect!" She turns, gesturing us after her, back to the set of frosted doors. "Right this way."

Just past the doors, she turns into an office which reads Admissions, directing us to take a seat on the couch in the middle of the room and grabbing a clipboard from a desk before taking the chair across from it.

"Alright!" She consults the clipboard before going on. "It looks like, if we're still good with the plan from last night, we're going with our five-day intensive inpatient program to begin with. We sometimes call it a forced vacation because the most important element is disconnecting the patient from harmful things in their life. The schedule will be the almost same everyday... group therapy in the morning and individual counseling in the afternoon, but evenings will vary a little. Two nights, Nila will be allowed to see visitors, up to two at a time, but each person is only allowed to come for one of them, and it's immediate family and pastors only. Again, we're just trying to remove her from almost everything in her regular life so we can get down to the root of what's going on. Sound alright so far?"

Once again, Courtney and I nod slowly.

"After those five days are up," Julie continues, "we'll have a few options, including release, outpatient treatment, or an extended inpatient stay, but we won't have a good recommendation for that until day four or five."

She hesitates, flipping through the pages in front of her.

"The hospital already sent us insurance information and all that other administrative stuff," she muses, "So that is about it. This..." She produces a pale pink folder from the back of the clipboard. "has all the details about our programs and beliefs, but if you have any more questions, please feel free to call us or visit our website."

Courtney takes it from her, opening it and flipping through the pages inside before looking up again. "Thank you."

"Of course..." Julie pauses a moment to pull one more sheet of paper out and clip in to the front of her stack. "She'll have some orientation sessions today, but day one will officially be tomorrow, day five on Friday, and checkout or reevaluation on Saturday. And this is the last thing. All I need is for you two to sign here and release Nila to our care."

She offers it to me first, but my hand feels like lead as I reach out to accept it.

I know this is right.

I know it's right, and I also don't have a choice. We're required to send her to treatment, and this is the best option we could find.

She's going to be alright.

But the thought of walking away from her, signing her over to someone else's care, makes me feel like my heart is being torn in two.

I look at Courtney. The same emotions I'm feeling are written in her eyes, but she nods a little.

I've signed two hundred posters in an hour, but I've never hated my signature as much as I do when I see it on this piece of paper.

With Courtney's beside it, Julie takes the clipboard back and beams in our direction. "Perfect! Now I'll give you all just a minute to say goodbye, and then we will get Nila settled in."

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

The moment she's gone, Nila buries herself in my chest.

"Dad..." The word is all she chokes out, but it's one of the most terrified syllables I've ever heard, and kills something deep inside of me.

I wrap both arms around her, lowering my head to kiss her hair. "I know, Darling. I know."

"Nila, Baby, I know this is scary," Courtney murmurs, reaching out and taking our daughter's hand while I continue to hug her. "I've been there, and I know. But I also know it gets better, okay? It's gonna get better, and it's gonna get a little less scary every step you take."

"I'm so sorry," she sobs. "I... I'm so..."

"I love you." I counter with the only thing I know to repeat back to her circle of apologies. "I love you so much."

"We'd stay right here with you if we could," Coco murmurs. "Our hearts are going with you, Nila. We love you so, so much."

A rap on the door, and Julie comes back in. When she said just a minute, she really meant it. She offers us an apologetic smile. "Time to go, I'm afraid."

I nod, fresh tears immediately beginning to run down my face as I gently detach myself from my terrified daughter. I brush her hair from her face, leaning in and kissing her forehead one more time.

"I love you."

I stand up, everything inside of me screaming at me not to. My daughter stays where she is, desperately trying to hide her tears from us, as Courtney attaches herself to my arm, trembling a little. Nila's backpack is on the couch beside her. There's nothing else I can do.

Julie crosses the room and guides us back towards the door, chattering about how this is always the hardest part, and the next five days will go by so fast, and a million other things I can't process through the knowledge that my daughter is crying, and I'm walking away.

The door shuts behind us. We somehow make it into the parking lot.

I collapse onto the car and sob.

I am at the point in my whump-writing journey that I don't feel remorse for much anymore. Doing this to Luke? I feel remorse for that. So... sorry. Mucho sorry.