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  • Writer's pictureEmily Echols

Not Alone in the Dark

A few weeks ago I took Little Brother to the emergency room. He was throwing up dried blood. (Don’t worry. We were only there a few hours and he’s fine.) My husband was gone (of course). The day before the facilitator for my PWOC class had said I could text her anytime if I needed prayer. Well, I was freaking out so I decided I needed prayer. She asked if I had a friend to come with me and offered to send a message to our class. I responded with:

I don’t really have anyone.

And I started to cry. Partly because Little Brother was vomiting blood and partly because I believed that sentence.

At our previous duty station my list of dear friends who I could drop Big Brother off with or who would accompany me to the ER was wide and deep. Here asking for help felt like asking too much of anyone. I did reach out to a friend from our previous duty station who is here now. She wasn’t able to help but checked in on us later.

When Big Brother was a baby he would wake up alone in the dark screaming in his crib. We’d go to his room and pick him up. He would continue wailing, sometimes for hours with his little eyes closed tight. We discovered that if we could only get him to open his eyes that he would stop crying. He cried as long as he was convinced that he was alone in the dark but when he opened his eyes and saw in the warm glow of the lamp that we were there with him and that he was held, he would stop crying.

After the panic of taking my baby to the emergency room subsided I realized I could have accepted the offer to contact my PWOC class. It wouldn’t have been too much to ask. If Little Brother had been admitted to the hospital I would have had help. I also realized that church, my brand-new church that I’ve only been attending for a few months, would have also had my back. Sometimes I just need to open my eyes to see I’m not alone in the dark. I am held.

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