What if it's Not About You?

“Cast they bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.” Ecclesiastes 11:1



I really stepped out of the boat this time. No stranger to mayhem and unexpected situations, this one seemed to be the worst yet. Three days after escaping an abusive husband, I found myself unwillingly checked into a domestic violence shelter in a new state and city. I knew no one and no one knew me. You hear stories about places like this and not very good ones.

The shelter was not full so I was alone in a room capable of housing four people. I took the farthest, lower bunk to dump my wad of clothes and small bag of necessities. The woman who completed my intake papers took me to a back room and helped me pick out toiletries, towels, washcloths, bedding and a pillow. I was told I could take them with me when I left, and I was responsible for their cleaning while at the shelter. I was given a time slot when the washer and dryer would be free for my use. The bathroom was public, and consisted of a row of toilets and a row of showers.

Every resident was expected to do their share of chores and cooking. That first day, I was assigned to do the dusting and to spray disinfectant spray on all door handles, light switches, and other commonly touched places. I retired to my room as quickly as possible and had about two hours before I was expected to join the first group session. Being a private person who liked to keep to myself, I dreaded anything that involved a group of people, especially a group of strangers. This was all too much for me to bear! Where was God, and why had He not delivered me yet? I listened. I did what He told me, so why was I here in this place? Surely in all God’s mercy and kindness, He would never want me shut up in this shelter. He was supposed to take care of me. The rest of that day passed in a blur. I responded only when directly asked something and then only the bare necessity of responses. After dinner and evening chores I escaped to the solitude of my room.

The next day, it was my turn to cook. Everyone took a turn cooking the evening meal. There were seven women and about five kids of various ages. Since I love to cook and being in the kitchen soothed my nerves, I plunged into the task. I raided the large walk in pantry. Several women made comments about not having very much in there. Having experience making something out of nothing came in handy here, and I thrilled at the challenge. Many of the women went out in search of jobs, taking care of legal matters and taking kids to school.

There was an abundance of canned vegetables newly outdated in the pantry. After informing the lady in charge, who agreed I could use all the outdated items I wanted, then throw what I didn’t away, I found the largest stew pot I could find. Into the pot went cans of beans, corn, carrots, peas, and anything else I could find. About 20 cans all together. Then, raiding the freezer, I found a nice size beef roast. After thawing it, I cut it into bite size pieces, coated them in flour and pan browned them on all sizes. While I was in the pantry, I saw pancake mix. I took that out and made a nice, thick batter and set it aside. As the meat cooked and formed thick gravy, the pot of vegetables simmered. There were no seasonings, outside of salt and pepper, but I did find an onion and diced that into the veggies. Once the meat was well browned I added it and the gravy to the pot of vegetables and left that to simmer. Happily, I took the batter I’d mixed and filled the cupcake pans I’d found and put them in the oven to bake. Now, something special for the kids! Back in the pantry, I found a couple crushed boxes of Jell-O mixes and a can of peaches. Time flew by as I diced peaches and added them to a huge pan of Jell-O. The biscuit muffins cooled on the counter, and the stew simmered in the large pot and threatened to overflow.

The women started drifting back into the shelter and were greeted by the smells wafting from the kitchen. With way more time on my hands than I really wanted, and without thinking too hard on my motivations, I found spare sheets in the laundry room. The kitchen opened into a large room with about five mismatched tables and chairs. I spread the sheets over the tables and arranged the chairs so they balanced each table. Then, I raided the junk room not too far from the kitchen and was thrilled when I uncovered some sad, lopsided silk flowers in a pile. Back in the kitchen, I found a few small glasses and placed a few flowers in each and added them to the center of each table. Things were looking pretty!

Residents hesitated at the door before walking into the kitchen, and everyone commented on the table cloths and flowers. Smiles were in abundance, and more than one had to peek into the stew pot to see what smelled go good. Kids played and had fun hiding under the tables, which were now forts, as I patiently walked back and forth setting each table with bowls, plates, silverware, glasses and napkins. The ladies from the office came in to see what everyone was talking about and left with bowls of stew and muffin biscuits. One of the ladies wanted to know where all the food came from and was shocked when I said the pantry.

Dinner was fun. The ladies, who had come in heavy with the day’s troubles and worries, smiled and chatted with each other. Kids gobbled their food and thrilled when the large pan of Jell-O with peaches came out of the fridge. How long had it been since they had had a special treat?

That night, I lay in bed and thought about the day. I spent so much time working in the kitchen, I my own fears and doubts. By focusing on the other’s, I also helped myself.

As the days went on, it was common for the ladies to exchange chores with me. Most hated cooking or just did not want to have to cook for so many mouths. In exchange for doing their meals, they did my other chores and the office ladies were fine with it. Every evening, ladies would return to the shelter and head right to the kitchen to find out what I made that day. It was something positive they could look forward to when they returned in the evening. The kids learned when I was in the kitchen some new treat would be ready for them. Despite being happy and in my element in the kitchen, I was happy when I could close myself in my room, as soon as the evening meal was over. I talked and interacted with the other women when they talked to me directly, but for the most part I stayed to myself. I was more outwardly friendly and social with the children. There was one little boy, about seven months old who was diabetic, and I always had a yummy, sugar free treat just for him. The kids quickly learned I always stopped to play with them. I’d always have a pitcher of cold cool- aid for them or a cookie or other special goodie.

One night, shortly after dinner, I was in my room just sitting there thinking when a knock on my door made me jump. Who could that be? I opened it and one of the women who had two kids stood there. She apologized for interrupting my privacy (they all knew I liked to be alone) but her youngest boy, the diabetic, wouldn’t settle down and was driving her nuts. She needed to give her daughter a bath, but the baby wouldn’t stop crying. Would I mind watching him while she gave the girl a bath? I agreed, not overwhelmingly happy about it. I was not there to make friends. I was there, waiting for God to give an opportunity to leave.

I decided to take the little one to the make shift nursery, which was really just a room where toys were stored in a box. There were a few tables, chairs, and a rocker. I sat in the rocker and held the screaming child. Now, I don’t sing. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I was getting a bit worried he was going to scream himself hoarse. One of the other ladies three-year-old came into the nursery and was chattering non-stop with me. On a whim, I started singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and giggling he started to sing with me. After the first three rounds, the child had the hang of it, and, balancing the softly fussing but not screaming baby, I taught the hand motions. As if by weird magic, a few more kids wandered into the room and quickly joined the sing-a-long. Parents wandered in to fetch their missing children and seemed surprised to find them sitting on the floor happily singing and doing the hand motions. Finally, the baby’s mom came back and was happy to see her son had fallen asleep. After that, however, word got out I was good with kids, and it was not long before parents were asking me to watch their kids while they did their chores, went to look for work, etc.

As the days went by, the overwhelming desperation for God to take me away from there was replaced by my desire to reach out to these ladies and to help them in any way I could. I spent less and less time hiding in my room and more time reaching out to the ladies. I would pray for and with them, listen to them when they wanted to talk and find small ways I could encourage and lift them up. 



Hebrews 10:35 “Cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward.”







Hebrews 10:35 “Cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompense of reward.”