Never Alone

A woman at church today shared the isolation she felt coming of age from a broken home and the GRATITUDE she felt for having been taught early in life about prayer.  When those who should have been her care-takers failed her, she turned to her Heavenly Father in prayer and found herself surrounded and directed by his loving guidance.  I felt involuntary tears running down my cheeks as I listened to her story.   I, too, have experienced the comfort and strength to move forward that Heavenly Father bestows upon us, his cherished children.  Her testimony of the reality of a loving God who answers our cries for guidance reminded me that even when it appears that we stand alone, surrounded by monumental walls that obscure our view of what lies ahead and around us, that the Lord above is mindful of us and knows our needs.

Past My Prime When it Comes to Mothering

The twins had a croupy cough and due to the current flu scare, the schools sent a letter out instructing parents to keep children home who had ANY of a long list of symptoms.   My daughter still had to be to school where she works part time so called to ask if I could watch the twins and take them to the doctor that morning.  I’m her ready and willing back up when the twins and their brother need me, so I am familiar and comfortable with them.  Having raised seven children, I figure I ought to be able to manage getting two seven-year-olds to the doctor and back without too much trauma.  HOWEVER, Monday morning reminded me that in the arena of childcare, I am definitely past my prime. 

Tipping over the Tee-Pee in the waiting room before I had even finished checking in was a reminder of the youthful exuberance and uncontrolled energy common in little boys.  Luckily our stay in the waiting room was brief and I was glad for the small basket of toys and children’s magazines in the exam room.  The little boy soon tired of the toys and wasn’t interested in the magazines his sister was looking through so he started spinning on the doctor’s stool that screws up and down depending on which way it is turned.  I thought this was a harmless way to entertain himself until he got off and moved across the room to check something out.   As I glanced up I noticed greasy black smudges all over the cream-colored vinyl seat on the doctor’s stool.  I don’t think those where there when we came in.  Then I noticed his hands- greasy black screw-like patterns across his palms with solid black finger tips.  Aaaahhh! 

 Thank heaven for the sink in the corner.  I got him started scrubbing and scrubbing-  more soap- and scrubbing his hands while I worked on the vinyl seat with lathered paper towels.  Luckily, it cleaned up rapidly and I returned to scrubbing the little hands until they were finally pink again and dried them off just before the doctor walked in.   I don’t think he even noticed the waste basket full of greasy paper towels and we were able to escape to the car without further incident.  When the pharmacist informed me it would take half an hour to fill the prescription, I elected to take the twins home and come back later without them to pick it up.    Some day the young boy will be a strong, upstanding citizen.  God isn’t finished with him yet and I am enjoying being witness to the magical process.