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I held the door open while Josh and Amber rushed on through, anxious to get their church clothes off. Two hours of trying to sit still
was more than they could bear and the need to run and play was urgent.
“Mom, where’s the TV?” Josh had stopped in the front of the doorway, Amber peering over around him. Only a dust ring on the stand showed
where the TV had once sat. The leather recliner, the video games, and the stereo were gone.
Husband. Father. Provider. All packed and gone in the time it took to sit through church.
Walking around the house in a fog, I heard the children crying as I looked in disbelief. Clothes lay on the floor, rejects he had left
behind—like his family. Snatching them up, I crammed a trash bag full and tossed it on the back porch. Pictures were put away and
remnants of ‘family’ were stored in plastic boxes in the closet.
It was dark when the children found me alone on my king-sized bed. Two sets of blue, tear stained eyes gazed up at me. They seemed
littler, more dependant, than ever before.
How could I ever take them through this trial? I could barely function myself. My world had been shaken like a snow globe, with all the
fragments whirling around me.
“Crawl on in.” I pulled back the comforter and was surrounded by two warm children, one on each side. Suddenly the bed wasn’t as vast or
desolate as five minutes before.
“Mom, you wanna play Yahtzee ?” Amber asked, looking hopeful.
“Sure. Why not.”
Though the empty space in my chest made it hard to breath and the last thing on my bogged down brain was a game, I found myself playing.
At two in the morning, after losing more than I won, I looked beside me and found Amber curled close to my side and Joshua all sprawled
out—totally relaxed and snoring on the other side.
Our nightly ritual went on for over a year as our family healed from a terrible time in our lives. After prayers were said and Bible
stories read, I’d reach under the bed and drag out the battered box.
Slowly, with my children curled on either side, life began to take form again. Far beyond a game, it was a healing. The time spent said
‘I care about you. And I am willing to spend a few precious minutes for something you’ve come to count on.” In a way, there was
stability in being able to count on something as simple as a nightly ritual of game.
The Lord allowed me to see that I still had my precious children—that I had not lost everything. In the times that followed, my children
would often encourage me from scripture and faith started rebuilding all that Satan had torn apart.
“I could make it through this. We could make it through this.”
Many tears were shed over that long year. Many times money and patience were tight. Still, we had banded together through a nightly game
of Yahtzee and we were making it through. God had allowed me—us—to find solace.
A few minutes in a safe place with my children, a place where we could laugh, hug each other, and challenge one another. A place where
every once in a while we could be …Winners.
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About The Author:
Sharon Raines is a mother and freelance writer. You can read more of her ramblings at
Persistance Pays.
* This article is available for your publication, for a F-E-E.
This article may NOT be reprinted without monetary compensation and written permission from the author.
For reprint rights or comments/questions about this article, please contact the author.
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