Years ago, Mike and I lost our first baby. I miscarried at 14 weeks and I was completely devastated. I didn’t have any truly close friends back then, just my family. My Mom was a dream, my rock. Even my sister came over and sat with me all day as I miscarried in my bedroom, scared and so deeply heartbroken. She knew what to do to help.
Those I went to church with sent cards or even a plant, but none of them knew what I needed to be comforted. One day, as I tried to cry in peace away from everyone’s sympathetic faces, in the safety of my own room, someone knocked on my door. I just yelled to Mike I didn’t want to see anyone, make them go away. If Mike could do anything, he could make anyone go away.
But 10 seconds later, I hear him chatting with someone walking towards the bedroom! WHAT!?! I said make them GO AWAY not bring them down to my room for International Coffees! And in the doorway walked the little, tiny Pastor’s wife. I loved Cherry, her name just fit her. Short of my Pastor’s wife now, Gloria, Cherry has been my very favorite of all the Pastor’s wives I’ve known.
I was mortified. Here I’ve been laying in my bed, bawling my eyes out, still in my NIGHTGOWN, and in walks the beautiful Pastor’s wife, perfect in everything.
She said not a word, but walked around to the other side of the bed, and climbed in. I cried on her shoulder for what seemed like hours, and then we talked and she reassured me of all of God’s promises. She knew I didn’t need her words when she first got there, what I needed was comfort. I didn’t need her sympathetic looks, I needed someone to crawl into the bed with me and cry with me. And she reminded me that what broke MY heart, broke God’s heart as well.
God sends us little reminders in the form of people to let us know that we are not forgotten. Our sadness, our worries, our concerns, are known by Him.
Tonight, as I left church tonight, someone asked how Mike was. Something so small meant so much to me. It let me know that someone remembered that he had missed church and he had a scary event last week with his heart and it had not gone unnoticed. Someone cared.
Having 2 young men leave church last week to come to my home to pray for him, and to let me know that someone knows.
These are probably small things, and only I would notice them because I am a hormonal woman, but these are such simple things that anyone could do to love and support someone else.
Cherry said something to me all those years ago. She said that she didn’t have anything special, no special talent, nothing she was really good at. I hope I told her this, but if I didn’t, I’ll tell her now: the talent she had that is so amazing, and so God-given, was her heart. Her heart that is just like Christ’s.
And it has challenged me all these years to try to be a better person. Listen when someone needs to talk. Be the shoulder when they need to cry. Be the support they need or the encouraging word. I’ve not always done a good job, but I’m trying.
Have you done that lately? Helped someone unexpectedly? Encouraged them? Cheered them on? Listened instead of speak? Made the phone call? Asked how they were doing? Let them know that you see, you hear, and you are genuinely concerned in their well-being?
Cherry, for that lesson to me, all those years ago. Thank you. Your talent outshines anyone’s.