A Moment in Time

I often say that Amy’s House is just a moment in time.  Families come through our charcoal front door during a season when life has been interrupted by illness, treatment or transplantation. We have the privilege of walking beside them for a little while, but eventually they go home—and life continues beyond our door.  Still, they don’t leave our hearts.

Recently, one particular family had been on my mind. We knew they had struggled financially, and we knew the financial situation was creating an additional burden. What we didn’t know was what was happening in their lives that very day.  As they were here for medical care, a warning light came on in their truck indicating a problem with the traction control system. They called the dealership and learned that although the truck was safe to drive, the repair could potentially be expensive.  We knew nothing about it.  At about the same time, a door was opening for us to offer this family some additional help. Our friends at Compassionate Touch opened their hearts and provided funding that allowed us to offer this family some much-needed assistance.  Later, we received a message from them thanking us for being “part of God’s blessing” to their family.  The truth is, it wasn’t us.  Maybe that family had been on our minds for a reason. Maybe what felt like a simple thought was actually a gentle nudge from Heaven—one that reached Compassionate Touch at exactly the right time. We knew about the medicine.  We didn’t know about the truck. We didn’t know about the worries they were carrying as they drove toward Temple that day. But God did.  Perhaps that is why we are so often reminded that Amy’s House is about much more than a building. Last week, a new leukemia patient came to stay with us. He and his family are hours from home, and today he told us that Amy’s House has been “a godsend” to them.  They didn’t know how they could possibly afford an extended hotel stay. Renting an apartment in Temple wasn’t a realistic option either. They simply knew that he needed treatment—and that treatment meant being far from home. Then they were told by their physician about Amy’s House. We hear stories like this every day. Different families. Different diagnoses. Different hometowns. But so often, the same question: How are we going to do this? And every day, we are reminded that we could never provide the answer alone.  We are incredibly thankful for the people God continues to place in our path—often at exactly the moment they are needed.

A godly man in Georgetown had a feeling that perhaps Amy’s House needed help buying groceries a few months back. He listened to that feeling, and because he did, we were able to keep food in the house for families arriving hungry, tired and far from home.  When we began our newest mission of keeping sack-lunch supplies available so patients could take something with them between long days of appointments, the VFW stepped forward and helped stock it with a donation.  Their partner, American Legion has been helping with Emergency funding for families for the last several years.  They do things that have to be done when we could never afford to take care of it on our own.  Recently they paid a patient's car payment keeping him from having his vehicle repossessed. Walmart Transportation has provided water and other much-needed supplies. AKA continues to help keep our coffee bar stocked and snacks waiting in our guest rooms—a small comfort that can mean so much when someone arrives after an exhausting day. They also help us in restocking our pantry with needed items each quarter. And each year, H-E-B provides support that helps us keep heat-able meals available so our guests can come home after a long day at the hospital and find something to eat without another expense—or another decision to make. These things may sound simple. A cup of coffee. A bottle of water. A sack lunch between appointments. A meal waiting at the end of the day. A room where a family can sleep without wondering how they will pay for another night. But when you are hours from home, facing cancer, waiting for a transplant or caring for someone you love, simple things can become enormous blessings. There are so many angels who make it possible for Amy’s House to care for our guests. Some give financially. Some bring food. Some stock shelves. Some volunteer. Some pray. And sometimes someone simply gets a feeling that there is something they should do—and they listen. Moments like these remind us that the work of Amy’s House doesn’t necessarily end when someone walks back through our charcoal front door and heads home. The house may only be a moment in their journey, but the relationships formed here can last far beyond their stay. Perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons we have learned inside this house: Never underestimate the importance of being placed in someone else’s path. We may not know the whole story.  We may not know about the truck. We may not know that someone is wondering where they will sleep, what they will eat or how they will make it through another week away from home. But God does. And time after time, He places someone in the path who can help.

To our friends at Compassionate Touch, thank you for listening to that nudge and allowing us to be the hands that delivered your generosity. And to the American Legion, Walmart Transportation, AKA, H-E-B, our friend in Georgetown, and every donor, volunteer, partner and friend who helps make this house possible—thank you. Thank you for the groceries. Thank you for the meals. Thank you for the coffee, snacks and water. Thank you for the sack lunches. Thank you for the prayers. And thank you for helping us keep our charcoal front door open for the next family who arrives wondering: “How are we going to do this?” Because of the many angels God continues to place in our path, sometimes what waits on the other side of that door can feel a little bit like a godsend.

Blessings, 

Phyllis