In the darkness of the night, I hold Owen. He whines as I rock his little body, burning with fever. We get up every hour or so and run to the bathroom. He returns to my arms and we rock on the floor in the hallway. We both fall asleep. I rock him in my sleep until the pain of holding him wakes me up and we return to bed. He continues to wake and return to my arms.
I start my day....exhausted. Just plain exhausted. Owen doesn't seem any better and I'm worried, really worried. That mother worry that is made worse only because you were up all night holding a sick child. I pace the house, worrying. So, I call my mom. She talks me through my worry. My mom is always there when I need her and I am so thankful. I call the Dr. and we spend the morning in a waiting room, driving to the pharmacy, and going to the store to get a fresh batch of popsicles. Owen has an ear infection. I am so thankful for good medical care and we return home much more confident then this morning. Ready to start healing instead of worrying.
Owen is safety tucked into bed. Gabe, Daniel, and Eli are playing as my neighbor, Judy, comes over to watch the boys. I am thankful for the break. The break from the emotional and physical labor of caring for a sick child. It always overwhelms me. This is always when I reach my breaking point.
I trust my boys with my wonderful neighbor and head to church. I am volunteering in the food bank and my job is to return phone calls to people looking for assistance. The message light blinks....13 messages. 13 calls of people who are being evicted, have no power or water, are homeless and looking for some help.
As I talk to the man, living in his car, a nervous energy overcomes me. Our church is unable to help him but, I frantically search other resources for him. I am able to find several who can give him assistance. He politely takes down the numbers and thanks me....I ask him if there is anything else he needs. I can tell he wants to talk. He tells me his story. Losing his job, being evicted from his apartment, and now living in his car right outside the apartment he used to live in. He says his neighbors allow him to store his food in their refrigerator. He thanks me again....I can hear in his voice a sincere thankfulness for being able to talk with someone and just having someone to listen. I say a prayer for him.
A mother with three small children calls from a motel. She is homeless and as I recommend several homeless shelters, she becomes angry with me. Her words are like fire. She informs me she will not expose her children to a shelter....ever. I explain that we aren't able to help her because she has no permanent address. She becomes more angry and spits these words at me...."you know, I am trying but, no one is willing to help me". She is right. It's impossibly difficult. She hangs up on me. I say a prayer for her.
I return home...exhausted.
We live in a broken world. A world full of sickness, hurt, and struggles. I would rather not stay up with a child all night long. I would rather not hear about homeless people and their problems. However, this is not the world that I live in. I live in this broken world and my job is to love. So, I hold my baby all night and I return phone calls to the homeless. And, because I do these things, I am blessed. And, through my exhaustion, I am empowered by this love. This love that gives me an unexplainable hope, joy, and a resolve to do more tomorrow.
I start my day....exhausted. Just plain exhausted. Owen doesn't seem any better and I'm worried, really worried. That mother worry that is made worse only because you were up all night holding a sick child. I pace the house, worrying. So, I call my mom. She talks me through my worry. My mom is always there when I need her and I am so thankful. I call the Dr. and we spend the morning in a waiting room, driving to the pharmacy, and going to the store to get a fresh batch of popsicles. Owen has an ear infection. I am so thankful for good medical care and we return home much more confident then this morning. Ready to start healing instead of worrying.
Owen is safety tucked into bed. Gabe, Daniel, and Eli are playing as my neighbor, Judy, comes over to watch the boys. I am thankful for the break. The break from the emotional and physical labor of caring for a sick child. It always overwhelms me. This is always when I reach my breaking point.
I trust my boys with my wonderful neighbor and head to church. I am volunteering in the food bank and my job is to return phone calls to people looking for assistance. The message light blinks....13 messages. 13 calls of people who are being evicted, have no power or water, are homeless and looking for some help.
As I talk to the man, living in his car, a nervous energy overcomes me. Our church is unable to help him but, I frantically search other resources for him. I am able to find several who can give him assistance. He politely takes down the numbers and thanks me....I ask him if there is anything else he needs. I can tell he wants to talk. He tells me his story. Losing his job, being evicted from his apartment, and now living in his car right outside the apartment he used to live in. He says his neighbors allow him to store his food in their refrigerator. He thanks me again....I can hear in his voice a sincere thankfulness for being able to talk with someone and just having someone to listen. I say a prayer for him.
A mother with three small children calls from a motel. She is homeless and as I recommend several homeless shelters, she becomes angry with me. Her words are like fire. She informs me she will not expose her children to a shelter....ever. I explain that we aren't able to help her because she has no permanent address. She becomes more angry and spits these words at me...."you know, I am trying but, no one is willing to help me". She is right. It's impossibly difficult. She hangs up on me. I say a prayer for her.
I return home...exhausted.
We live in a broken world. A world full of sickness, hurt, and struggles. I would rather not stay up with a child all night long. I would rather not hear about homeless people and their problems. However, this is not the world that I live in. I live in this broken world and my job is to love. So, I hold my baby all night and I return phone calls to the homeless. And, because I do these things, I am blessed. And, through my exhaustion, I am empowered by this love. This love that gives me an unexplainable hope, joy, and a resolve to do more tomorrow.
