What am I going to do? My mind repeated these words over and over as I lay in a hospital bed for the second time in less than a month. Though all the signs of a beautiful spring loomed outside my window, it was winter in my soul.

I was a single mother with two small children and no family closer than nine hundred miles away! My friends were taking turns keeping my children during my hospital stay, but they were also single parents with limited space and limited incomes. How much longer could this go on?

I had a wonderful job but I could not earn an income from a hospital room, and my sick leave and vacation time had run out. My prospects for returning to work anytime soon were dashed by my attending physician, who informed me I would need at least three to four weeks of rest before I would be well enough to resume my daily duties. No income for more than three weeks? How would I meet my financial obligations? Would I ever catch up on the payments that were getting further behind with each passing day?

While I struggled with all of these questions, my eyes filled with tears. I felt so helpless and isolated. I lay crying, caught up in this seemingly hopeless challenge, so much so that I didn’t even notice when the hospital chaplain entered my room. When I finally did see him, it was too late to hide the tears. He wasted no time in asking if he could pray with me. My answer was a resounding YES!

The prayers calmed me somewhat, but inwardly the panic was still there. Before the chaplain left, he told me he wouldn’t be in the hospital the following day and asked if I minded if a minister he knew from town visited me in his place. Not thinking much about it, I thanked him and said I would appreciate meeting his minister friend. To be quite honest, he could have said almost anything at that point and I would have agreed, because my thoughts had returned to my problems.

Once the chaplain had left, my humanness took over, and I began seriously contemplating how I could make things work. I wrestled with option upon option until I was exhausted. I felt as though I were carrying the burdens of the entire world on my shoulders and there was no relief in sight.

The tears again began running down my cheeks. Alone, frightened, and frustrated, I suddenly threw my hands in the air in despair and cried aloud: "I can’t do this anymore, God! It’s Yours." Suddenly a calming peace filled my being. The outer circumstances of my life hadn’t changed, but I had. In an instant, I had simplified my life by choosing to turn everything over to God.

Filled with relief, I drifted off to sleep knowing that somehow everything would be fine. But I was certainly not prepared for what was to come!

The following day, as promised, the minister from the local church visited me. The hospital chaplain had told him about me, so he was prepared for just about anything when he arrived.

He relaxed in a chair nearby and began talking with me as if we had known each other forever. I was completely comfortable with this person, though we had never met before. All I knew about him was that he was the minister of a local church.

During the course of our conversation, he asked about my children and how long I would remain in the hospital. It was a very casual talk. Then he turned to me and asked, "Christine, how much money do you earn in a week?" I thought the question a bit odd but answered him, thinking he must be trying to help me feel more at ease about my financial concerns. I told him and noticed he began to write.

We continued talking, and a few moments later he handed me a check that would cover the entire time I would be off work. I was shocked! I looked at him and said: "I can’t take this! I have no way of repaying you, and besides, I’m not even of your faith!"

He smiled and said: "It doesn’t matter of what faith you are. You are a child of God in need. I took your story to my congregation last evening and they all wanted to help. This check is a gift, not a loan, and is never to be repaid. Now, about your children—I asked if there was anyone who could take them during your hospital stay. Many people offered but I chose one family in particular because they have a 15-year-old boy who was the first to come to me and ask what he could do to help. I don’t expect you to turn your children over to strangers, so if one of your friends can meet this family and bring your children to their home, I’m sure your mind will be at ease."

Was I dreaming? How could I have gone from such dire circumstances just twenty-four hours before to having all my prayers answered? Then I remembered my talk with God the previous day. I knew the moment I "let go" that things would fall into place and they did. But this was only the beginning!

Yes, my children went to the home of a couple that my closest friend met and "approved" for me. They kept my children for a week after I left the hospital so I would have time to get on my feet before resuming the task as a single parent to my children. I never met the family who were so generous. They didn’t want praise or thanks. They had given from their hearts. My children returned home with new clothes, new toys, and bright smiles from their adventure with these lovely people.

Soon I was able to return to work. Ah, thank You, God, I thought. What wonderful blessings You have given me. But it wasn’t over. God had more in store for me!

My son was of school age, but my daughter was still a toddler. Little did I know that the day care center I had had her enrolled in for the past six months was part of the church that had come to my aid.

On my first day back to work, I entered the day care center with my daughter. The director stopped me and asked to speak with me. I couldn’t imagine what she wanted to discuss. Much to my surprise, she informed me that a member of the church congregation who wished to remain anonymous would be paying my daughter’s day care costs for the next full year! That year gave me the opportunity to get a financial grip on my life and purchase a safer car in which to transport my children. All of this because of the generosity of someone I’ll never know!

It’s been years now since this experience brought me to the realization that I do have the power to change my life by turning everything over to God. I’ve practiced "letting go and letting God" many, many times, and each time I do, the outcome is better than I expected.

I’ve shared this story with many people who, like me, felt that there was nowhere to go and no promise in sight. Each time I tell someone about this powerful, personal experience, I am reminded of how my life changed with two simple words spoken aloud to God: "It’s Yours."


Back to top

Back to inspirational stories