Excuse me ma'am, your baby is crying

Today my four (and a half, as he insists)-year-old greeted me out of the shower with, “Mama, I riped my own carrot!”  No, that’s not a typo.  He refers to peeled carrots as “riped.”  He was quite proud of himself for getting the carrot out of the fridge, finding the peeler and peeling it by himself for a snack.  I was proud, too, that he took the initiative to solve a problem.

Most of us are proud of ourselves for being able to do things on our own.  I rarely read a Facebook entry from a mom bragging about all the help she had from friends doing the laundry.  (Although, many post grateful thank-you’s when such help unexpectedly arrives.)  I am guilty of this, especially when it comes to my kids.  I feel proud of myself for toting my three kiddos to BJ’s, Wal-Mart, church and school.  Last Friday, though, I really realized how true the statement “It takes a village” really is.

We had to stop at BJ’s to pick up my new glasses.  As my two-year-old is (FINALLY) newly-potty trained, I decided a bathroom visit was in order.  However, I had made the mistake of taking my infant son out of his car seat to give him a little freedom.  So, in the bathroom, I had to strap him to the changing table as I helped my daughter go potty.  Of course, the family bathroom at BJ’s has automatic flushing toilets and a VERY loud hand dryer.  So, my daughter started loudly protesting the toilet and my oldest son started trying to escape the bathroom before the hand dryer turned on.  Meanwhile, my baby decided to share with the whole store how unhappy he was at being strapped down.  As I was frantically trying to persuade my son to stay in the bathroom, I heard a knock on the door.  “Excuse me, ma’am.  I heard your baby crying.  Are you okay?”  At this point, I was ready to dig a tunnel and escape from BJ’s with my noisy bunch in tow.  However, as I assured the nice stranger we were quite okay, I realized how wonderful it was that someone cared enough to make sure something horrible hadn’t happened to me, leaving my children screaming for help.

Recently I was diagnosed with post-partum depression.  When my doctor told me I needed to get some help, I inwardly laughed.  “She doesn’t realize how far away our families live.  My husband is so busy at work, and I have to keep working to help pay the bills.”  Fortunately, my husband helped me see that not only my sanity but our whole family’s was at stake.  And God has blessed me, as always, with many people in my life who are helping me out.

Isn’t that why God gave us people in the first place?  In Genesis chapter 2, God tells us he created Eve because “no suitable helper was found” for Adam.  God knew Adam wouldn’t be able to go it alone, so he gave him some help.  And, God showed us the blessings that come from good friends.    When the lame man’s friends saw his need, they took him to Jesus through a hole in the roof.  Jesus forgave his sins and healed him.  And, it doesn’t even need to be friends.  We can be like the Good Samaritan and help someone we don’t even know.  Just like the nice lady who, over the bathroom stall at the mall yesterday, handed me a $5 bill and said, “I know what it’s like.  I had four of my own.  Use this to get them something.”  (My two big kids really enjoyed the chocolate milk!)

Sure, I can do it on my own.  And I sometimes do.  But, thankfully, it really does take a village, and the village includes people I don’t even know.