Shaken

I had never been inside her home until the day she told me CPS had removed her children. On that day I had gone over with some clothing for her daughter. When she came to the door I rattled on about what the bags held and if she could use them. Open mouth, insert foot.

 She took me in the first few rooms. My impression was that of dark rooms and general disarray, as you might find in a case of depression. The windows are busted out and they had no water. Their dog had messed in the floor and was jumping in and out of the busted windows.

I immediately told her I would help her clean, organize, repair, anything. I truly wanted to see this young woman piece her life back together. Well, of course, to her I am "the pastor's wife" and she is too embarrassed to let me see the whole picture. So I tell her that when she is finished that I will gladly do a walk through and see if there was anything obvious to be done. My work background qualifies me to be of a particular help in this area.


It's been 5 weeks. During that time they have worked very hard. Truckloads of stuff have been hauled away and thrown away, both from the yard and from inside the house. Friends have helped scrub the walls and floors, paint ceilings and repair the windows. Throughout this month I have repeatedly emphasized that the goal should be clean, shiny, smelling good, lots of light, safe, no hazards, child centered, an obvious family home. So when she asks me to walk through I am expecting a total transformation.

It isn't quite what I had hoped for. Yes, much has been done. There are now curtains on the windows, albeit mismatched. The front room is set up as a living room. There is a bedroom for the parents and a bedroom for the kids. However, open the door off the children's room and it is a dropoff of 3 feet to a dirt floor, because the floor had to be torn out. The smell in this side room of urine and feces is oppressive. Combined with the odors of cigarette smoke and old, musty wood and it is sickening. Their room, while it contains a bed with a dirty mattress, a chest of drawers, a small bookcase, and a dresser, gives no evidence of being a child's room. Well, unless you count the fact that the shelf  holds some children's movies and a few small toys. No babydolls or barbies. No hotwheels or tractors. No little  colorbooks or crayons. No teddybears worn out from little hands loving them. No little nightlights to chase away fears.

There is no crib set up in happy anticipation of the new addition. No clean children's clothing stacked in a basket. Nothing that would indicate children running through the house. One thing.Throughout the visit she stops to show me this little pumpkin or little ghost she had out that her son made at school. She keeps repeating how sad she is to be missing their trick-or-treating. I dont have the heart to tell her our family does not celebrate Halloween. I just listen.

When we get to the kitchen there are dirty dishes waiting to be washed. The stove has burned on black rings 2 inches out from each burner. A pot of water sits waiting for use. I mention she needs to make sure she labels her cleaning supplies and locks them up. She opens the cabinet below the sink to show me and a section of 3 doors comes off in her hands. Her face crumples like she wants to cry, then she quickly turns away as she attempts, to no avail, to prop the doors back on. The drugs she is on make it hard for her to complete a thought or comprehend when I give instructions or ask questions. But they still can't drown out the emotions of shame and discouragement she is trying so desperately to bury.

I go back home to my family and impressions wash over me. The children run to greet me as they tell me how much they missed me.  A hot, home cooked supper is shared around the dining room table. Clean sweet smelling jammies, night-night prayers, crisp sheets, favorite lovies to cuddle with. Suddenly I can't stand it any longer. I feel as though I can't shake that dismal odor that still fills my nostrils. It's as though it has covered me and I can't escape it. I can't bear the thought of going in my children's bedrooms smelling this way.

When I tell my daughters I will be in to say good night in a few minutes after I bathe, they give me hugs. FlowerChild jerks away and says, " You don't smell like....you." I give a wry smile and retreat to my room. When I at last enter their bedroom, they are still awake. As I give them their goodnight hugs, my daughter gives a contented sigh. "You smell like Mama now."

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This is a snippet of my day last week. I am not the type of person who is sensitive and must have everything sanitary before I enter. I've seen situations that were pure squalor. But something about this was different. The contrast between this family's home and my own just hit me so hard that it shook me up. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind and I have prayed over them constantly. How often do we really examine our lives and truly recognize God's hand over us?

We like to think that if we are not like this then it must be because of something we have done. We are somehow "better" if we don't happen to have the same type of problems. But do you know what the root of her problem was? After talking with her I am sure I know. It wasn't the drugs. It wasn't poverty. It wasn't a lack of education. It was that the circumstances in her life had left her OVERWHELMED. Have you ever felt this way? I know I have. Oh the causes may be different for each person. Responsibilities. Money trouble. Health problems. Relationships. Jobs. Grief. Loneliness.

But the feeling of lack of control is the same. Overwhelmed. Have you stopped to realize that it is only God's hand upon your life that has protected you from the storm? Just because you may not have battled debilitating depression, drug addiction, problems paying bills, children acting out, or any other myriad of problems people battle everyday, it doesn't mean you are somehow better than them. It just means that you are blessed in different ways. Honestly, I think that is why I have been so touched by this situation. I came home that night and I was overwhelmed with how blessed I really am. We all are just one event, one accident, one poor decision away from a tragic life.

If you are battling something today that is leaving you tired and ashamed I want to remind you of something. Most likely your real battle is that of being overwhelmed. But you are not the clothes you wear, the car you drive or even the one you can't afford to own. You are not your job, no matter how important or how lowly. You are not your looks or your education and you are not the roof you happen to live under. No, you are none of these things. YOU are God's creation and He has a plan for your life. Satan wants to deter you from this plan so he distracts you from it with worries and hurts of this world. Reach out to Jesus! Your life will not be magically freed from problems. You won't suddenly be exempt from circumstances you have created. But you also will not fight the battle alone! Tomorrow can be something that excites you as a new day, a fresh start, rather than something that causes you to groan, wondering what bad things it will hold. Be encouraged, friend. :)