Help, I Need Somebody

There are those wonderful times as a mum, where you find yourself throwing up in the toilet, and you still have to be mum. This was my experience last Sunday morning. We were all dressed and ready to get the bus to church, when I suddenly felt a bit funny in the tummy. I ended up locking myself in the loo and being sick.

My youngest serenaded me outside the door, with his new guitar which in itself was a joy. I had to try and shout to my eldest that I needed help, and he needed to get my phone off his brother. My other son wouldn't give the phone to his older brother, because he was playing a game on it.

From the bathroom, I had to explain why the phone was needed and why now wasn't a great time to argue. My boy, without a phone to distract him now decided to bug his guitar-playing brother, so there were screams coming from him. I shouted through the door something about being helpful, and the guitar serenade picked up again.

My eldest decided ringing dad was the best option, and usually he'd be right, but not when he's leading church. So through the door, I told him not to ring his dad. He then went for the 'Uncle Paul' option, which again on a normal day would have been a good choice. I was struggling to think straight, but knew that Uncle Paul may well be on church set up, so that wouldn't be great either. I told him to ring one of the ladies from the girl's house. He tried our friend Hannah, but it kept going to answer phone. My son was still convinced that Uncle Paul was his best option, and left slightly confusing messages on Hannah's answer phone saying this. With my tummy hurting and the tears wanting to fall, I said he should try one of the other ladies, Yvonne. I thought we were on the home stretch now, but my son came back to the closed door saying he couldn't spell Yvonne. It was hard to hear him over the guitar, but I managed to spell out her name.

I finally heard my eldest boy say, "My mum is sick and this house needs help". And I was relieved. I knew that help would come, because the ladies in that house, are just those kind of ladies. Five minutes later, the front door was opened to a Hannah and an Yvonne. I finally came out of the loo and burst out crying. A text on my phone came through, it was Psalm 46v1;

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble".

How true this verse is, and how present His help was to me in this moment. I was ushered up to bed, given a sick bowl and a drink, prayed for and the house fell silent as the boys were taken off to church. I was very grateful for God's help in the midst of trouble, and a refuge of sleep.