Zoe's Guys

In the late spring about six years ago, the six of us lived in a tiny little town twenty miles west of McCook, Nebraska. John worked out of town Monday through Friday. That left me, and four kids. I don't remember exactly what was happening in our lives at the time, but I know that I had a toddler at home with me all day. I know that a lot of the times if I didn't get my shower taken during her late morning nap, I had to wait until the older kids got home from school so there was some sort of supervision. And I use that word as broadly as possible. Because when you ask children to watch other children.....it usually leads to the cereal cabinet being emptied onto the kitchen floor or the breaking of all the things.
On one particular day, I missed my designated shower time, and when the kids got off the bus, I asked them to please keep an eye on Zoe so I could shower. At some point, someone decided to give her lessons in how to play Dodge ball in the kitchen. You know, the way they do. I'm sure at the time it seemed perfectly reasonable to a bunch of children. It must have been the straw that broke the Momma's heart, because I remember sitting down on the shower floor and crying, and saying over and over, "Please God, send me some help. Please. I don't think I can handle this."
Two days later, help arrived.
Zoe and I woke up to the sounds of things being pounded on. Loud, construction-like noises were coming from the backyard. So, I opened the shades and we looked out to find that on the other side of the alley behind our house, someone was building something. Zoe was fascinated. She refused to leave the window. She sat and had breakfast there. She cried when I tried to shut the blinds. She asked me seventeen million questions about what they were doing and why. I must have said something about the guys who were working over there.
The next morning, she woke up in her usual, 'hit the ground running' fashion and asked if we could see her guys. It took me a minute. I opened the window and she sat there, watching. I gave her some chocolate milk, made sure the doors were locked, and took my first uninterrupted shower in a long time.
She talked constantly about 'my guys', and what they were doing, and how their day was going. She told people in the grocery store. She talked about it to her grandparents. She told her Daddy over the phone, "My guys are comin', Daddy. My guys are comin' over today." And I am sure that since he was out of town and had no clue what any of it meant, it was pretty fun to hear. Over and over again.
For a couple of weeks, in the late spring warmth, help arrived in my life via a sweaty construction crew. This is how I know that God has a sense of humor. I showered alone everyday they were building that metal building. I thanked God for them. While they were there, I took full advantage of them and by the time they left, I had a handle on things again.
About a week after they were gone, Zoe woke up crying in the night. She asked to look out the window, to see her guys. It was dark, and they were gone, and she grieved for a minute and then moved on to whatever the next thing was. (It was collecting, 'pig money', just in case you were wondering. Another story, another day.)
All of this is on my mind today because I am feeling like maybe I need some help here this week. It's nothing major. Just life stuff. I was just asking for a little guidance and some patience and maybe a construction crew to distract my kids for a little while.
Zoe's "guys" never knew she was there. They never knew how much they helped an overwhelmed Mom get the reins back. So, I don't know where it will come from, but I know that the help will come.