I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is. It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog. I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.
It broke my heart to read his words. No one had commented, and I was frantic. I quickly wrote in the comment section, no. You are loved. You have a place in this world. You must not give up, I will help you. It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him. I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him. We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.
He said it helped him to know I existed. It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……
He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying. The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words: Don’t worry. I am here. Five words. Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for. It mattered to him, my poor health. And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.
Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me. I told him anything, yes anything for him.
“Can I call you mom?”
So, this is how our Abba works. I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.
This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.
And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.
Yes. Of course.
And for this I am blessed beyond measure.