Memoirs and Miracles

             Despair and Diapers     

There it was again; that sickening, gut wrenching feeling that sent shivers up my spine. Something wasn’t right- something hadn’t been right for a very long time. Things weren’t adding up- not in finances, not in life. He was supposed to be working, bringing home paychecks. My 10-month-old daughter needed diapers. There was nothing in our account. I got on my knees, fighting back the tears and all the words I so badly wanted to say to him but didn’t, looking for loose pennies and quarters under the couch. Nothing. Clenching my jaw, I headed toward the closet. I checked pockets, shoes. I checked old purses. Nothing but dryer lint and a few crumpled up gum wrappers.

Here I was, in Denver, Colorado, a thousand miles away from home with a beautiful little daughter, a bank account that was either overdrawn or empty, a husband who was always gone, and the terrifying feeling that he wasn’t who he said he was.

The phone rang. “Susan, he’s pawned my engagement ring. It’s gone.” Silence. Then finally, “You need to come back home.” We talked a while longer. Susan knew what few people did- she knew about the lies, she knew about the financial problems. She knew he hadn’t been able to hold a steady job. She knew about the overlapping prescriptions of pain medication.  “You know all you have to do is say the word and we will come and get you and Izzy.” My eyes were spilling over. The ache. That crushing, breathless ache. “ I know, Sus. Thank you so much.”

I’d barely sat down on the couch when I heard Izzy. Brushing away tears, I opened her door. She was sitting in her crib, with an expectant look on her face. I smiled and laid her back down to do the routine post-nap diaper change. One diaper. One last diaper. Squaring my shoulders, and breathing a prayer, I thought, “well if worse comes to worst, I will cut up burp cloths and kitchen towels and use them as diapers”. We made our way into the kitchen to find lunch. I heard a knock at the front door. Baby on my hip, red rimmed eyes, I opened the door to find a neighbor from the next building over. “I was at Target and I thought you might need this.” She handed me a gallon of milk and a box of diapers. Immediately, I thought of the overdrawn bank account and my empty wallet. “Thank you! H-how much do I owe you?” She raised an eyebrow, “Nothing! Let’s go take the girls to the pool later, k?” As she walked away, I felt my knees collapse under me. I leaned against the closed door and sobbed. The smallest need seemed so great in that moment- and the warm gesture of a friend who’d heard nothing of my struggles was a clear reminder that God knew. He knew and He saw and He provided. Not in a way that fixed everything- but in an amazing, beautiful way that was so full of His tender heart toward me; a way that would keep me relying on Him. Not just for rent. Not just for gas. But for diapers. And for milk.