I Have to Call My Husband

I have two young daughters who have always been particularly imaginative. I guess the beauty of having a sibling so close in age is that you always have a built in playmate. When siblings also share a close friendship, the games never stop. Every morning I feed my girls breakfast and help them get ready for school. They relish every minute that they are ready before we need to leave because that means they get extra time to play before stepping out into the real world. If I tell my girls they have five minutes before we need to load up, they excitedly will run off to their room to build something they are working on or play barbies just a little bit longer.

When we get in the car, the game of pretend will continue on the way to school and then again when we get home in the evenings. If I have dragged them with me on an errand, they will just make up a game on the spot and are continuously engaging in conversations about their imaginary world. This sometimes looks like sitting in a waiting room somewhere and pretending that their separate chairs are their houses and they are neighbors or (and I’m confident they’re not alone in this) screaming “the floor is lava” as they jump from tile to tile at the grocery store.

Both girls have each had lots of imaginary participants in these games over the years and for about the past six months, my three year old has been regaling us with stories of “her husband.” By the way, he is a dinosaur and they have five children….who are also dinosaurs. Charlotte likes to check in with him several times throughout the day by announcing, “I have to call my husband.” Sometimes she wants privacy to make these phone calls and other times it is in the middle of dinner or in the car on our way somewhere. She always insists that her sister and I are quiet while she talks to “her husband.” She will even go so far as to pull her open palm away from her little ear and make this request with a sharp, “shhh. I’m on the phone.”

“I lift my eyes up to the mountains-where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

Psalm 121:1-2

It amazes me that every time Charlotte checks in with her dinosaur hubby he is always making dinner at home, cleaning the house and taking care of their dinosaur brood. But the craziest thing about these phone calls is that as my child role plays in her imaginary world I can’t help but hear all the ways her husband is helping her and think that must be so nice. I know the strains of single parenting are wearing on me when I am envious of the support my three year old gets from her imaginary dinosaur husband. We all need help in our lives every single day, for the little tasks, like shuttling carpool and getting our kids fed, and especially for the big picture to-do items.

We can’t all be as blessed as my preschooler is when it comes to an extra pair of hands around the house. We can, however, turn to God who promises to be our helper. God calls us to humble ourselves before Him with a childlike innocence. In the same way my three year old has faith that “her husband” is always going to answer the phone when she puts her palm to her ear, David expressed that same childlike faith in the Psalms- faith that God would answer and provide whenever he called upon Him. God is our refuge, our provider and our helper. Just as the Lord made us, He has already made a way for us when it comes to every single task we tackle, no matter how monumental some may seem from our perspective at the mountain base. His helping hand is always outstretched before us and waits for us to take take hold. We were never meant to go through the struggles of life alone and no matter what you are facing today, God’s hand will provide you that respite.

Love, Molly

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