I have long been an independent person. As the mother of five little ones and the wife of a military service member, I was used to being on my own and doing things myself.
We traveled the country for years, and every place we moved to was always a brand-new environment where we knew no one and had to learn everything from scratch. Where should we live? Where were the good stores? The best dentist? Pediatrician? Restaurants? A great church? What extra-curricular activities were available for the kids? I always had a list a mile long of things I felt I had to figure out by myself. With no family or friends around to assist us in the day-to-day, I would roll up my sleeves and set to work with gusto, researching and googling everything I could to learn as much as possible.
As soon as we would arrive in our new city, my husband would launch into his very demanding job, and I was put in charge of all the various family needs. Over the years, I found this role both exciting and taxing.
A large part of what I struggled with throughout those years came not from all the change and work that went along with moving so often – reestablishing our lives in another part of the country— but from that feeling of being constantly on my own. My husband’s long days left little time for us to be together, and I took my kids to every appointment and every activity. Whether it was a car-related or an urgent care trip, a park playdate or a specialist in another city— it didn’t matter. I would pack everyone up, and off we would go together. With moving every year or two, babysitting was nonexistent. After all, you don’t meet people the first day you arrive, and by the time we had met and gotten to know people well, either they would move, or we would be off again to another state.
I grew used to this independent path we were on. I never expected it to change, at least not for the foreseeable future.
God had different plants, however, and one day, everything changed.
My husband had started having health problems, and over a seven or eight-year period, his legs had started to become numb, and his movements became less controlled. The doctors were not sure why his health was deteriorating, and it wasn’t until a top neurosurgeon at Brooke Army Medical Center took his case that the problem was discovered: he had a rare spinal cord herniation, and he needed surgery ASAP. I packed up the kids and the family dog, and off we went to San Antonio, Texas, about a nine-hour drive from where we lived. My mother-in-law flew out from South Dakota to help us while we were there. We stayed a little over a week while my husband underwent surgery. We returned home, my mother-in-law flew back, and a day later, I took my husband and the kids to his post-surgery check-up at the nearby hospital. The doctor came in, examined my husband’s back, and said he had a suspected infection in his spinal column, and he needed to be medevacked back to San Antonio as soon as possible. The children couldn’t accompany him in the small plane. The kids would need to stay.
I stood in the doctor’s office with my five little girls and watched them wheel my husband out of the room and down to the ER. My head started spinning. I felt a crushing weight descend on me, and for the first time, the fact that I was alone, absolutely terrified me. I felt utterly lost. It was in that moment that I actually felt as though God had abandoned me.
What in the world was I going to do? Why would God do this to me? We had moved to a new city just about a year before, and although we had met several great friends, every single one of them had already moved away due to job changes or the military. We had a small, friendly church, but we did not know anyone very well there yet. Both our extended families lived hundreds of miles away. I had no one I could call to help me in that moment.
As I stood there in the doctor’s office, with my mind racing and my stomach churning, I tried to think of options. Suddenly, I remembered an older lady from our church who had been very kind to me. I did not know her all that well, but we had attended a few events at the church together, and we liked to chat after the service. For some reason, I had her number. I decided to call her. When she picked up the phone, I told her what had happened. I didn’t know how she would react. Would she be standoffish? Put out? Would she want to help me? To my surprise, her immediate response was, “I’ll be right over. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it all. I’ll spend the night and make dinner. It’s no problem. When will you be home?”
Words cannot describe how I felt in that moment. To be so immediately willing, so freely loving…it felt like God was showing that he had not left me. He was going to take care of me—of us. He would provide the lamb, so to speak. He would provide something out of nothing. He would not forsake us. Her response gave me a renewed sense of hope.
She was there when I arrived home, ready to care for the kids while I grabbed a travel bag for myself. Her name was Neva, and she had called another woman in the congregation to come help her, Pam. Pam and Neva were happily working away in our kitchen before I even left the house. They were cooking, playing with the children, and planning activities. My kids were distracted and delighted with all the attention. I could see that these ladies loved the task before them and did not see it as a burden, not even in the slightest way. Their attitude lightened my mental load tremendously.
I ended up spending two weeks in San Antonio with my husband after he was flown there for emergency surgery. My mom came out from California to help with the kids, and our small congregation brought food every single night to our house while we were gone, and for two weeks after our return, totaling one solid month of meals. The love they extended towards our family made a deep impression. The children formed fast bonds with many in the congregation who extended love and fellowship to us. I hadn’t realized it, but I needed these people. Not for what they could do for me, but because they filled a void in our lives that I hadn’t even realized we had. We didn’t have family living nearby, but they have become family to us.
As the months passed, Pam became “PJ” to the girls and now comes over weekly just to play with them. They adore her. Neva often asks to decorate cookies with the girls or bring crafts to the house to do with them. Another couple from the church has given us free rein of their pool in the summertime, leaving their key behind so that the girls can swim for hours in their pool. We have enjoyed pizza and conversations with them poolside as the day has come to an end. The list goes on of the people in our church who have opened their hearts and homes to our family. We, in turn, have enjoyed prayer services and dinners at our house for anyone in the congregation. I have enjoyed nothing more than seeing our new “family” gathered around the dining room table.
The point is that before being in need, when older generations extended their hands to our family, I did not realize what they were offering. I didn’t really see it at all, actually. Maybe it was a simple conversation after the service, an offer to babysit or bring us a meal, or an invitation to go someplace with them. For some reason, I did not understand what those gestures meant. I did not understand what it meant to be grafted into the family of believers. I did not yet know the depth of joy brought through intergenerational relationships within the Christian church. Now, through force of circumstance, the fact that we have received our brothers and sisters in Christ with open arms has resulted in a truly life-enriching and life-changing experience. There really is a difference when you view people as family and not just members of your congregation. As Jesus said, “Here are my mother and brothers.” The result is a unique type of joy that I imagine we will experience on an even greater level in heaven! The interaction between the generations has built our family up both emotionally and spiritually. I am forever grateful for how God orchestrated our struggles and trials to His good purpose and enriched our lives forever by grafting us more fully into the family of believers!