Day after day, week after week, one by one they come into my office in search of help, each so similar, yet individual and unique: mothers. Some initially surprised, but ultimately honored by, and then fully embracing their God-given call to motherhood. Some longed and desired to be mothers for years.
I recognized her, but not for the reason you might think. She walked into my office, her two week old infant over her shoulder, infant carrier slung over one elbow, diaper bag with burp cloth falling out over the other elbow. A pacifier hanging from a robin’s egg blue ribbon dangled from her clenched teeth. “Here, how can I help you?” I offered. [more]
“You’re not alone…I understand.”
Those are perhaps the two most comforting sentiments we long to hear in the midst of a trial. It was what I needed to hear, but didn’t, when I was in the midst of the valley of depression.
The opposite was what the enemy of my soul whispered in my ear so loudly it was deafening: “You’re all alone. No one else understands. If you tell anyone, they’ll know what’s wrong with you and run the other way.” [more]