A couple weeks ago I was part of a panel in a workshop about the “seasons” of a woman’s life and I represented the
life sentence season of being a stepmom. Afterward we were each asked to hang out in a different part of the convention center ballroom so women who wanted to could talk to us about their own struggles. At a Christian conference for pastors and their wives there aren’t a lot of stepmoms, so I expected to be hanging out alone, but after a few minutes a lady came over to talk.
“I’m Pam, and I have three stepkids, and I helped raise them from the time they were little, and my husband is in ministry, and I would like to pray for you for the next year.”
I almost fell onto one of the tastefully upholstered convention center chairs. She continued to share her story with me, and asked questions about mine, and then gave me a big hug before heading down the hallway. Since then she has messaged me twice, writing out her prayers for me so I can know how she is interceding and can re-read them on the tough days.
Everything is spinning out of control. None of us can fix it. But all of us can “be a Pam” for someone else, which by the way looks remarkably similar to being Jesus. And maybe that’s enough.
Photo (Flickr CC) by darkday