Angel Hands
Angel hands of protection
How often as a young mother did I wish for time alone? No matter how much we love our children, moms need time to relax and just be free to shop, enjoy an activity, walk, jog, and time to just be alone. We need to be free of the responsibility of always being on the alert for danger, free to know we have five minutes when no one is going to need us to care for them. I call it time to care for myself.
I love the way parenting has changed since the time I was raising my children. The fathers seem to take a much more active part in the child care. I see moms having time to themselves more than most of the moms of my generation. Of course the trade off is that most moms today are working full-time outside the home whereas, in my generation most moms were stay-at-home moms.
One thing we had then that I am sure is still available is angels guarding the little ones at play or when they start to run out into the street. I remember my oldest son, Jerry, running into the street in front of a car one day as I struggled to hold his hand while holding his brother Doug’s hand and pushing a stroller my baby girl, Vickie, was riding in. I’m sure the man who reached and pulled him back to safety for me was, if not a heavenly angel, certainly a human angel God had put in place to help me that day.
Drew wanted to share this experience of feeling that an angel’s hand held back her son to keep him from harm.
A mother’s love, care and protection is fierce if it is unselfish and godly. Once in a while a mother does long for some personal time alone. She needs time to just relax and enjoy taking time to check out all the new items while she shops. Perhaps a time when she doesn’t have to deal with a baby becoming too tired and needing to be home in its own comfortable bed. A day of shopping when she doesn’t have to load up all the baby gear and strollers and be sure she hasn’t forgotten anything she will need to care for the child. Moms just need time alone occasionally.
On one such afternoon, when my son was a baby, I left him with a friend, a sweet Christian woman who loves children and has a childcare center in her home.
I enjoyed the time, just being able to stroll lingeringly up and down the aisles of my favorite grocery store, visiting with friends and store clerks and when my basket was full I headed toward home with a car trunk full of treasures.
When I reached the babysitters home I pulled up and parked on the right side of the street in front of her house. I was looking forward to seeing my blue-eyed blond boy, after being away from him a while.
I rang the doorbell and greeted Mrs. George and she went to bring my baby to the door. After a big hug, I held his little three year old hand and then he swiftly jerked free of my hand and ran to the car and then continued into the street as a camper truck came through from the left. I cried, “Fred, stop!” and then, “Oh, God!” was all I could get out.
He would have been crushed if an unseen hand had not pushed him, with gentle force, back against the car in time for me to reach him. God saved him that day and many other times through the years of youthful rebellion. Someday I will meet his guardian angel and be able to thank the angel in person. The prayers of a God, honoring mother and father are heard. I rejoice!
