"It happened on a Monday..."

Most of my posts on here are of an objectively-subjective nature. I try to be objective (passing along facts) about what I am learning (which is subjective or my opinion or take on said lessons). So yea, Objectively-subjective. I will, however, occasionally take to this blog to process. Oh sure, it's all processing. But on a rare occasion something will impact me so deeply I turn to this blank page to "work it out", so to speak. My friends, as you can probably imagine, are grateful for this space. Without it I may talk without end about said event. And this event-the one bringing me to this blog-
well, it happened on a Monday...
  
The doorbell rang and my heart jumped. She came! I jumped up and stood at the door. Craning my neck to look through that (blessedly tall) peep hole. It was her! I quickly opened the door not wanting her to think I had left and leave herself. I knew it must've taken no small amount of courage to walk down the street and ring my doorbell. "Hello!", I said. (Possibly a little too loudly?) She tried to smile but was shivering too much to do so. "He never came, I guess." I said trying to look more concerned and not at all condemning. A shake of the head and a quiver of her lip was all she could manage. My heart sank. "Do you want to come inside?", I asked trying my best not to sound too eager. With a nod she stepped inside.

She was wet and her lips were almost blue. It had been 2 full hours since my husband had seen her sitting on the corner in the rain. 2 hours since I had walked down, introduced myself and asked if she needed anything. She had kindly declined. She knew things were bad, she'd just been kicked out of where she was staying but her ride was on the way. She was going to be fine. Not wanting to appear intimidating I relented and started back for home. At the last moment I turned around, "If for some reason it doesn't work out. Or if you need anything until they get here. I live right there." The teacher in me made her confirm that she knew which house was mine. As I walked back home I relayed what happened to my husband. And almost the first words out of my mouth were:

"Oh, honey, I've been there."

Now on my couch she would barely look me in the eyes. I have to admit being surprised at her humiliation. "Would you like a blanket?", I offered. Another nod and I (literally) ran off to fetch it. Draping it around her shoulders I could tell it wasn't going to be enough so off I (literally, again) ran for another. This one I draped around her front. It felt odd doing this to a complete stranger but she must've been cold because she didn't stop me. "There." I said stepping back. "Is that better?". Of course she nodded in the affirmative and after another brief exchange I was off to make tea and bring back a computer. Her phone had died and all she needed was to get in touch with her ride and she'd, once again, be fine. She sat on my couch for about an hour. Typing away on the tablet; desperate to prove she truly was fine. If only her sister could come now! She could get her to where she belonged. So, I tried to give her space. And not hover. I asked her as few questions as I could, wanting to show her that I respected her ability to secure a ride. All the while I could see how desperate she was becoming. And all I could think was,

"Just let me help you!"

There was a time when I sat on my metaphorical curb in the rain. And there was a time when every possession I owned in this world fit in 3 suitcases. And I too, would've said I was fine. Watching her from my kitchen my heart broke for her. Not in pity. But in understanding. Our stories may not be identical but they are the same. It was at this point or maybe a few points "lower" where my God found me. Or rather I allowed Him to find me.And in that moment, with her on my couch and me peeping around the corner I prayed that she would allow God to find her. That she would discover - in Him - what it means to be something much better than fine....

The story doesn't end there...

She did allow me to help her. With the means that God provided and an incredibly sensitive and helpful husband I got her where she felt she belonged. We talked. She even talked! And I now have someone new for whom to pray. Our lives are currently very different but our needs are still the same. We both long to be loved. Long to belong. And we are both desperate to show the World that we are fine.

I don't yet know why this young woman found me. Or if "our story" is at its end. Andrew says I haven't seen the last of her and I hope he's right. I hope she lets me help her again if she needs it. And I pray for the opportunity to share with her the One who has made every difference in my life.

I want to leave you with a Psalm that has always reminded me of that "curb in the rain" time in my life. And my prayer is simply this: Lord, thank-you for finding me. And Lord, please help her to let you find her.

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy

If you, Lord, kept a record of
sins, Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can with reverence, serve you.

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Israel, put your hope in the Lord, 
for with the LORD is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins. Psalm 130

Loving and praying for you all today!