As I watch all the families walk in those big doors of my church I feel left behind. I don't have the husband to hold the door, the father to help me drop everyone off, or the person to hold my hand during worship.
While I push the double stroller with my little redhead beside me I wonder why I'm doing all of this.
"Why did this happen to me? I'm not supposed to be a single mother, taking care of three children under four. Life is not supposed to be this hard."
These thoughts roll around in my head while I try to keep moving forward. My heart aches with frustration and desperation for someone to help, to care, to notice that I'm doing this alone.
I feel the weight of my responsibilities sit so heavily on my shoulders. I carry with me these three precious souls who did nothing wrong but were abandoned just like me.
We forge ahead as a family unit but I feel as though we are missing a vital piece. My pulse quickens as I see couples holding hands, whispering to each other, and making their way into the sanctuary.
I'm in God's house but I've never felt so small before. I've never experienced the pain of not feeling alive in a place so full of redemption and rebirth. *Tweet This*
Then I look up and see someone smiling at me. It's a friend from long ago. She gives me a bear hug and says how proud she is of me for walking this hard road, for loving my children so much, and for not forgetting the God who has everything under control.
We walk into worship together and soon I forget how I felt before. I feel alive and thankful to have another day with my children.
I don't feel small anymore.
*This particular moment occurred about three years ago. I'm so grateful for my life and where I am today. Memories like this make me appreciate Bryan even more.
Joining Lisa Jo Baker and other amazing ladies for Five Minute Friday. We write to share our voices. No editing, no major planning, we share what's on our hearts.
Also linking with Essential Thing Devotions and Simply Helping Him