A Helping Hand

***This story is a little graphic and not for those with weak stomachs.  I apologize in advance.

A long time ago, I was in a pretty bad spot in my life.  I had just found out my abusive fiance was cheating on me.  We had two kids under the age of 7 together.  I felt stuck, miserable and at one of the lowest points in my life.  I couldn’t leave him, there was no way I could do this on my own, right?  But I couldn’t stay and keep any shred of pride or dignity any longer…I remember every Sunday taking my two kids to church and sitting there in the pew waiting for a miracle and weeping silently to myself.
“Well, God.. Im here.  That is all the energy I could muster up today.  Please fix my life.”
Trying to get both kids up and dressed and then get myself dressed and presentable to the outside world BEFORE they became undressed or too tired to make the trip was HARD!  There were days that I failed miserably at this.  Little Bear (LB) would spill something and then Baby Bear (BB) would play in it and rub it in her hair.  You know for someone who hates to have her hair washed, she sure liked to rub things in it a lot…
On one particular day in January, we were struggling to get out of the house on time.  I was screaming at LB and carrying BB down the stairs..
“Get your shoes on!!!” Get in the car!!!”…  I’m sure you are familiar.
He was moving slower than a turtle and was about one minute away from having a complete meltdown himself.  I got them both in their car seats and buckled and ready to go!  As we pulled out of the driveway, LB turned to BB and took her toy and threw it on the ground..  She began to SCREAM, he hid his eyes from me and smiled to himself at a job well done.  She screamed all the way to church no matter how much I tried to comfort her. We pulled into church 10 minutes late.  I grabbed the baby, and my purse and LB’s book bag and headed into church while trying to calm her down and get LB to move just a LITTLE faster..
I remember church was packed that day.  I remember sitting closer to the front than I normally preferred.  I remember dropping into the pew,  I was exhausted.
“Well, God.. Im here.  That is all the energy I could muster up today.  Please fix my life… Please HELP me” I added..  I wanted him to swoop down and save me.  Rescue me out of this hole I had fallen into.  I wanted to feel his presence.  I wanted to hear him whisper those words to me “It is going to be ok”
But instead of those words, I heard the sound of BB dumping my purse onto the floor..UGH
I get on my hands and knees to try and shove everything back in my bag, when I realized I have forgotten the diaper bag in the car.  That is a mistake single parents can’t afford to make.  I can’t JUST go get it.  I cant send someone else to go get it.  So I prayed silently that she will not need it for just one hour.  Please?  PLEASE?
As if in direct response to my prayer, I hear BB begin to cough followed by that noise that every parent dreads..  She is going to spit up!!!  What do I do???  I have no blanket, no spit up cloth, nothing.  I just have…
I put out my hand and hope for the best..    I cringe as she spits up into my hand..  I have no idea how to handle this.  She turns her face away from me and vomits on the floor.  OH NO!!!!  Please God let me disappear. I whip my head back and forth to see if I can plan an exit strategy.. I began to angrily whisper to LB that we are going to need to leave NOW.  He, of course, is oblivious to what is going on and can’t understand why am I using such a harsh tone.  He begins to cry and falls to the ground dangerously close to the pool of vomit.
In the meantime BB has begin to vomit all over the pew.  I have never seen so much vomit from such a lil person!!! I now begin to cry..
I pick her up and just run.  Run out of the church as she just keeps vomiting.  I don’t know where I am going, I don’t care about my things, or if my son is following, I just run.  I get out of the service and I am sobbing.
And that is when it happened.  God answered my prayer.
The church door opened up and a beautiful woman emerged.  She embraced me, vomit and all and said she saw the whole thing.  She took my lil girl and began talking quietly to her while rocking her.  She offered to accompany us into the bathroom and help clean us up.
More women came out of the church to help me.  They offered to clean up the pew, stay with my son and gather up our things.  There were hugs and tears and so many stories of them going through similar things.  We were laughing as we introduced ourselves.  I explained I was new to the church and that beautiful woman invited me to join her bible study.  I explained I was a single mother and she offered free child care if I would come.    Another woman offered to meet with me and see if the church could come along side me and help with anything.
I didn’t see it at the time, but looking back, that is the moment it began to get better.    When God used other women, who had been where I was, and understood the look of desperation on my face and put out their hands to help me. To ease my burden.  He is faithful too.  He continues to put such beautiful people in my life and they continue to put a hand out in the middle of the rain and offer to help me up.


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