October 5, 2011

He really does speak.

Every Tuesday, Finn and I go to an after-school reading program on the other side of town.

For the last few weeks, we have steadily learned new names, faces and smiles.

We were starting to settle into a {somewhat}familiar routine.

Reading books with kids; helping with homework; playing games or doing crafts. One time I even got to do a Bible story of Joseph on learning to forgive. Because fights tend to break out quite a bit...usually between the alpha males in the group; little Juan cries because someone took his snack; it's always something. Always a bit unpredictable, but nonetheless par for the course.

And each Tuesday, I eagerly anticipate seeing a little girl named Brianna. She is the sweetest, happiest thing ever. We instantly clicked and she has carved out a special place in my heart.

Brianna lives with her grandma, and her mother is not part of the picture.

This just breaks my heart and I have been trying to be a part of her life, however the Lord allows.

Yesterday was gonna be the start of something special. I was granted the privilege of taking Brianna out to eat, after the program let out.

I was really excited, but cautiously so...I have learned the importance of being flexible. Plans tend to change on a dime round these parts. Last week I was supposed to go to her house, but Grandma changed her mind at the last minute, because she was embarrassed of her house. Brianna was crushed.

But I trusted God's hand. If it was meant to be...it would happen.

Anyhow, we were all at the reading program and the day was humming along...Juan was crying over a granola bar...my mom even came with me and was busy whipping a bunch of jr high boys into shape...when all of a sudden, two new girls walked through the front door.

They were pushing a baby in a stroller. This was a common sight. Little girls around this neighborhood FREQUENTLY watch their baby brothers and sisters, and tote them around wherever they go.

A baby bottle full of red punch dropped to the floor.

"Honey, is this your baby brother?", we asked.

The smaller of the two girls looked down nervously and quietly said "It's my baby".

We were all kind of shocked. She looked so young. And small. And tiny. Much too young to be a mother.

We looked at the birth date on her paperwork. She was 13. Her baby was one. Do the math. It was extremely probable. But still so surprising. She looked like she was only 11! I noticed she was small everywhere but had a little pouch for a belly. It finally hit us. She was indeed the mama.

I grabbed her baby boy out of the stroller, determined to give this young mama a break from the responsibility of a baby for a spell. Her baby boy has the biggest brown eyes and the cutest mop of curls spilling down his forehead.

I placed the baby on my hip and walked around for a bit.

It was not long before I noticed that my hip was soaking wet.

"Do you have a diaper?" I asked the young mom.

"Uh...no..." she stammered, as she looked through her stroller.

I asked my friend Heather for a diaper and she rushed out to her car to get some diapers and wipes.

After finding a decent spot to change a diaper, I plopped the baby on a table and helped the girls with the sopping wet diaper.

Much to my shock, the baby has a massive umbilical hernia. And a poopy diaper that looked like it had not been changed in quite a while.

By now I am fighting back tears. This was overwhelming.

The diaper got out of control as we fumbled and fussed our way through it. By the end, there was poop and pee everywhere, and I quickly rushed the diaper to the trash and washed my hands.

By now my head is spinning. My simple Tuesday was turning quite complex as I pondered the gravity of the situation.

A little girl taking care of a baby.

Baby boy happily walked around the place, barefoot. Completely oblivious.

We asked the tiny mama a bazillion questions. What size shoe? Do you need diapers? What size clothes?

Even though we want to help this girl desperately, we can only help her if she wants help. Only time will tell if she returns. I hope so.


Even though the baby drinks cool-aid,
And walks around in dirty clothes and diapers,
He looked healthy as a horse. She somehow has gotten thus far without us and will not shrivel up and die without us.

But it sure put a huge burden on my heart for the entire day, and I could hardly focus.

Afterward the reading program let out, I got to take Brianna out to MacDonald's. We had a BLAST. She is such a happy bubbly girl considering her situation. I truly wish I could give her the world. But I must not make her grandma feel completely inept.

When I got home, I gave tweetle beetle a huge hug. He is so chubby and happy and I could not help but feel so grateful to be able to raise him proper-like.

As I brushed my teeth at night, something hit me.

I am doing a Bible Study called "Discerning the Voice of God". The basic premise of the study is that God will speak to us if we listen.

And it dawned on me. Just a few days earlier, I had asked the Lord a question. I had just watched a documentary called 180, which was circling the web. It seeks to make people think, regarding the fate of the unborn in our country. I had asked/begged the Lord what exactly he would like me to do regarding this bleak situation. I really had no idea how he would answer me. I just waited.

And I truly believe that he answered me: "Help take care of this young 'unfit' mama and her baby boy, in whatever way you can...if she will take the help."

It was that simple.

I was amazed that God answered so clearly. He really does speak.