Recently I witnessed the unraveling of a love relationship. I was at our county courthouse waiting in line for my turn at the glass window, when a young couple stepped up to a different window not far from mine. The sign above theirs read, “FAMILY”.
As I waited, I watched, worrying over the reason they were at the window. The mother, looking like a middle school kid, was burdened down with a massive diaper bag, a big purse, and a heavy toddler. I just hoped they weren’t filing for divorce.
But it was worse than that.
The father (think teenager) leaned toward the window to explain. “This here is my baby, and I want to give up custody.”
The woman on the other side of the glass winced a little and said, “You mean you want to terminate your rights as a father?”
“Yeah,” he said, without a bit of emotion. “See, I don’t wanna give ‘em any more money. I haven’t worked for a year, and I don’t have any money. I wanna be done.”
I glanced at the mother, who had moved to a folding chair nearby. She, too, was without emotion.
A rush of grief swept through me, and I wanted to know every detail about these three people. Had they finished high school? Did they have a place to live? Had they raised their baby together so far? Were their parents helping? Had they told anyone what they were doing today? Did they have any money? Or food? (Both were reed thin.) But it was my turn at the other window.
A few minutes later out in the hall, I saw the young mother sitting on a bench, her baby on her lap. I smiled at her, and she smiled back, so I walked up and said, “You have a sweet baby there. How old is he?”
“Almost two,” she said, turning his face so I could see him better. “He was born two months too soon, but the doctor says he’s doing pretty good.”
“He’s darling,” I said. “You must be very proud of him.”
“Oh, I am,” she said, and we continued to chat, two moms who both love children.
When I finally stepped toward the elevator she said, “I hope you have a really nice day, ma’am, a really good day.” I wished her the same, but hopelessness washed over me. The sting of tears made me grateful I was headed for the privacy of my car.
When I got there, though, the Lord chided me. “That situation is not hopeless. You should know better than that. Why don’t you stop despairing and pray for them?”
As I prayed, God reminded me he already knows the answers to my many questions about them. He also has the power to affect change in their lives, and praying for them was an opportunity to trust the Lord to act on their behalf.
With God involved, nothing is ever hopeless.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)
Praising and Praying with Mary
- I’m thankful for a good week (without chemo!) leading up to daughter Stina’s wedding this Saturday.
- Please pray for weather that will allow the ceremony to take place outdoors as planned.
- Chemo resumes Monday.