When perspective walks through your front door

This week I was all geared up to write about the challenges of reigning in a third born who has been given way too much rope lately, when a little interruption to our week gave me pause and the opportunity to take my eyes off my own family and direct it towards another family, a family made up of a single mom and her gorgeous little baby girl.

I first met Jessica and baby Hope* 6 months ago when they were living at a shelter close to our church. Jessica had come in to see if our church would be able to help her and the other moms at the shelter with much needed diapers and clothing for their children. Through an anonymous donation of $1000 we were able to do just that! Jessica shared her story with me at the time, and while she did not go into details at the time, she had been a victim of severe domestic violence. The serious scars on her body from knife wounds spoke louder than her words to me that day. And my heart broke.

Since that day when Jessica walked through the doors of our church we have remained in touch on occasion.  Not in person but via phone since she needed to move to a shelter a distance away. But through every interaction she has surprised me. By her level of care for the other moms in her shelter, her never abusing the kindness of our church with additional requests, the tears that flow each time I pray for her, but most of all for the extraordinary love she has for her little girl. There is something sacred about it. Something set apart, something different.

This Wednesday might have been like any other Wednesday for me: morning routine of getting kids ready for the day, butting heads with Lani yet again, about getting dressed or was it about food (I forget, but it always seems to be one of the two), homeschooling the older kids with at least one squabble over something (usually math, I really don't like teaching math!), rushing off to pick up Lani from preschool.  Some of you had a similar Wednesday and the rest of you probably remember those days. Longingly I know. And just as my Wednesday was beginning to look like any other Wednesday I heard a ping. The ping of a text on my phone.  It was Jessica, texting me to say she was in the area and would love to get together.

As Jessica sat in the same chair she had sat in in my church office just 6 months earlier it was shockingly clear she had had a set back. And this time the scars, both physical and emotional, were not old scars, there were new wounds. And there was no hiding it. Wearing an extra long sleeved shirt she was hiding the previous wounds, making room for this new one. This time on her face. And if my heart broke the first time, it doubly broke this time. Teared flowed. How is this even possible!

We met briefly since that's all the time both of us had. I dug around the church finding some diapers, wipes and some clothing. I handed her a gift card to a grocery store, it's relevance questionable, since where she is living in so incredibly remote from anything or anyone. We hugged, cried, I spoke a brief moment to her domestic violence advocate and then parted ways.

As the kids and I drove home I was processing out loud that there had to be more we could do for this hurting mom and her sweet little girl. Didn't God say we are to "care for the widow and the orphan"? For crying out loud, (no pun intended) there had to be more we could do for her than the measly offering I had just passed along!!!!  And then it occurred to me, it may not be much, but what if we invited them to spend the rest of the day with us. And so we did! And they said yes!

I can tell you this Wednesday afternoon was not like any other Wednesday afternoon.  My girls played with that baby girl all afternoon to their hearts delight. And Jessica said it was the first time in 4 months that Hope had engaged with children and played! She squealed and laughed and my girls got to play "doll" and were in heaven.  Jessica and I connected as she shared, with the luxury of time, her whole story. And with words like: "sexual- abuse,  loser of a dad, dropping out of high school, needing to work to feed the family, heroine, I made mistakes, pimp, alias names, methadone, he will not stop until I am dead" I caught a glimpse of a world I know NOTHING about. And it's sobering.  I had heard a couple people in the know speak of "sex trafficking along the 128 corridor in Massachusetts" and that it was more serious than most other parts of the US. But hearing about it is one thing, having a victim share her horrifying story in your living room is a whole different ball of wax!!!!

Perspective walked through my front door this Wednesday and I am not quite sure what to do about it. I know sitting in ignorance in my comfy home with my latte doing nothing about it is not an option. But what to do? Well that is a question I will be wrestling with. For now I will do the one thing I know I can always do, pray. Pray for Jessica and Hope and reach out to them, believing that change happens one life at a time. Perspective walked through my front door this week and I had a rude awakening!

PS: This week I am boldly praying for a safe haven for Jessica and Hope. After dropping them off at their "home" this Wednesday night I know one thing, they cannot keep living where they are living!

PPS: This week I also watched a very powerful documentary that aired live on PBS called a path appears. Take a look at the trailer.

* Names have been changed for the protection of those involved (I don't know much about sex trafficking but this much I do know)