As promised, a few more stories about the kind of support I was blessed to received from dear friends during the worst of my illness. Do you think you could do anything like this for someone you know?
-How can we help...?
Jem is beyond stressed. I've told him, of course, you can tell the guys at prayer group what's been going on with me. I know he needs support. The guys are great; they hold him up with their encouragement. I don't mind that they know. I figure it's always good to have prayer. One of the couples have been friends of ours for several years, we often get together for games nights. Tonight they are over at our house. My friend repeats,
-Seriously, we really want to help. J, I wish I could come and spend time with you during the day, but I work all day. But do you need meals? Is it easier for you to be home or to come to our place? How are you doing for grocery trips?
-Wow, well... we could use meals sometimes. Jem is doing all of the cooking these days.
-Absolutely. We'll ask the other couples in the prayer group too if they can bring a meal once in a while. And how about this: we'll do your grocery shopping every week.
-What? No, we couldn't ask you to do that.
-It's no problem, we go every week anyway. Just send us an email with your list by Thursday evening, and you can write us a check when we bring the groceries by.
At the end of our evening, Jem tries to return the board game we've been borrowing from them for months, but they refuse it.
-No, you guys keep it. It seems to be something J can enjoy.
It's true, over the past few weeks that Carcassone game has become not just a helpful distraction, but a VITAL one. I can't even watch a twenty-minute TV show without being totally distracted by some danger to my unborn child. But for some reason, I can get lost in Carcassone.
L and C, you may never know how much we appreciate you walking so closely with us.
Jem
has been planning to go to this hockey game for weeks, but I can't be
left alone. I've asked my friend N to come over for a movie night. When
she arrives, I'm at the kitchen sink, rinsing a dishcloth to wipe the
table.
I'm so glad to see her, but I don't step away from the sink.
-I'll just finish cleaning up the kitchen and then we'll start the movie. Is that OK?
-Sure, no problem. How've you been?
-Oh, not great....
I go on rinsing, rinsing while we talk. I tell her some of my worries. She listens. She tells me a bit about her week. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, I think I've managed to wipe the table, but now I decide I HAVE to clean the sink. I'm still rinsing the same cloth.
-I'm so sorry, this is taking me way too long. It's just, how do I know...? Is it clean? When is it safe? Have I rinsed enough?
-J, it's all you've done since I came.
She says it quietly, with no reproach.
I'm trembling. I finally manage to put the cloth down, dry my hands. We sit down and start the movie, but I can't concentrate. All I can think about is that I need to clean....
I tell her, don't worry about me, I've seen this one before. I'll just be a minute.
I leave to clean the bathroom. She stops the movie and comes to find me.
-It's OK, J, that's plenty clean. I think you're done. Come on, let's go watch the movie.
I let her take me back to the living room.
By the end of the evening, she's offered to come and get me the next day and take me over to her place. She'll do that often throughout the rest of my pregnancy, keeping my blood sugar level with her barley-and-cream concoctions, walking with me, keeping me entertained, taking me shopping, letting me feel useful playing with her daughter.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you N!
I'm
with my dear friend E, who knows all about my deepest fears and darkest
miseries. We've been out shopping, she's asked me about the last few
days, how I'm doing. She's reminded me again, God is not punishing you,
J. I'm struggling to believe her though.
We walk up together to her apartment, and she puts her sleepy baby girl down for a nap. I look longingly at a slumbering baby. I so wish I could sleep. I haven't slept more than three or four hours a night for the last month or so. Panic wakes me and won't let me lie down again until I've cleaned this, thrown out that.
-Do you want to have a nap?
-Nah, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.
-Well why don't you try. Here, I'll put a clean sheet on the couch.
I lie down, grateful. My mind is still whirring: but my hands are dirty, my hair is dirty, what if it gets on my face while I sleep? But I close my eyes and try to breathe slower. I sleep.
E, that was the best nap in weeks.
E, your firm, gentle wisdom walked me through several of my very worst days.
* * *
Jem is beyond stressed. I've told him, of course, you can tell the guys at prayer group what's been going on with me. I know he needs support. The guys are great; they hold him up with their encouragement. I don't mind that they know. I figure it's always good to have prayer. One of the couples have been friends of ours for several years, we often get together for games nights. Tonight they are over at our house. My friend repeats,
-Seriously, we really want to help. J, I wish I could come and spend time with you during the day, but I work all day. But do you need meals? Is it easier for you to be home or to come to our place? How are you doing for grocery trips?
-Wow, well... we could use meals sometimes. Jem is doing all of the cooking these days.
-Absolutely. We'll ask the other couples in the prayer group too if they can bring a meal once in a while. And how about this: we'll do your grocery shopping every week.
-What? No, we couldn't ask you to do that.
-It's no problem, we go every week anyway. Just send us an email with your list by Thursday evening, and you can write us a check when we bring the groceries by.
At the end of our evening, Jem tries to return the board game we've been borrowing from them for months, but they refuse it.
-No, you guys keep it. It seems to be something J can enjoy.
It's true, over the past few weeks that Carcassone game has become not just a helpful distraction, but a VITAL one. I can't even watch a twenty-minute TV show without being totally distracted by some danger to my unborn child. But for some reason, I can get lost in Carcassone.
L and C, you may never know how much we appreciate you walking so closely with us.
* * *
I'm so glad to see her, but I don't step away from the sink.
-I'll just finish cleaning up the kitchen and then we'll start the movie. Is that OK?
-Sure, no problem. How've you been?
-Oh, not great....
I go on rinsing, rinsing while we talk. I tell her some of my worries. She listens. She tells me a bit about her week. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, I think I've managed to wipe the table, but now I decide I HAVE to clean the sink. I'm still rinsing the same cloth.
-I'm so sorry, this is taking me way too long. It's just, how do I know...? Is it clean? When is it safe? Have I rinsed enough?
-J, it's all you've done since I came.
She says it quietly, with no reproach.
I'm trembling. I finally manage to put the cloth down, dry my hands. We sit down and start the movie, but I can't concentrate. All I can think about is that I need to clean....
I tell her, don't worry about me, I've seen this one before. I'll just be a minute.
I leave to clean the bathroom. She stops the movie and comes to find me.
-It's OK, J, that's plenty clean. I think you're done. Come on, let's go watch the movie.
I let her take me back to the living room.
By the end of the evening, she's offered to come and get me the next day and take me over to her place. She'll do that often throughout the rest of my pregnancy, keeping my blood sugar level with her barley-and-cream concoctions, walking with me, keeping me entertained, taking me shopping, letting me feel useful playing with her daughter.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you N!
* * *
We walk up together to her apartment, and she puts her sleepy baby girl down for a nap. I look longingly at a slumbering baby. I so wish I could sleep. I haven't slept more than three or four hours a night for the last month or so. Panic wakes me and won't let me lie down again until I've cleaned this, thrown out that.
-Do you want to have a nap?
-Nah, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.
-Well why don't you try. Here, I'll put a clean sheet on the couch.
I lie down, grateful. My mind is still whirring: but my hands are dirty, my hair is dirty, what if it gets on my face while I sleep? But I close my eyes and try to breathe slower. I sleep.
E, that was the best nap in weeks.
E, your firm, gentle wisdom walked me through several of my very worst days.
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