Last night a crazy thing happened. I was just coming out of a supermarket at about 8pm when I saw a girl shaking and sobbing.
I stopped her and asked if she was ok.

She looked petrified and couldn’t speak properly.

I told her I was a safe person and wasn’t going to hurt her. Then I asked if she wanted me to hug her. She just flung her arms round me and cried uncontrollably.

When she had calmed down a little, I pulled away and stroked her hair away from her face. I sensed she had been hit by someone, so said, “Have you argued with someone who hit you?” She looked at me suspiciously, her eyes blackened with cheap, running mascara.
“Yeah,” she whispered, clear shame on her face. “A bit.”

I asked her to show me where she was hurt. She pulled back her hair to reveal a large red egg-like lump on her head. Her boyfriend had hit her. Again.

She had a cigarette (to calm down) and I went to my car to put my shopping away so that I could take her into the pharmacist. I was worried she wouldn’t be there when I got back, but she was.

I led her into the shop in a daze. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next and felt unsure what I was meant to do to help her. So I prayed. The pharmacist was gorgeous. He asked minimal questions and gave her a drink of water and she took some paracetemol. All the time he talked to her, her head was down. I caught his eye a number of times. This was not the first time he had seen this kind of thing. It may not even have been the first time he had seen her. Like this. I wasn’t sure. He looked sad and resigned. BUt very kind.

The girl (who we shall call Claire) said she was ok. But there was no way I was going to leave her on her own. She was cold, (she only had a T shirt on and had wet hair) shaking and, although she looked about 30, was only 21.

I decided she needed to come back home with me. I rang Jon to tell him what I was doing and then asked her to come with me to my car. I told her I was a safe person and didn’t want to harm her but that she was in shock and needed a cup of tea and a chance to calm down. She seemed to relax a little and trust me. Then she told me the whole story.

Her and her boyfriend had a little baby 9 months ago and he was taken into foster care a month ago. She was totally devastated. Her boyfriend (much older than her) has an anger problem and has hit her a number of times. They were both arrested a couple of weeks ago for being drunk and disorderly. At a friend’s…er…christening. She begged me not to tell the police. If she was reported, it would get back to the courts and social services would not give them their baby back.

Life was not going well for this little girl. She had made a series of bad choices. She was in a mess. We arrived back home and at first she was very scared of Jon, but she softened when I said how lovely he is. She sat and shook at the kitchen table whilst he made her a cup of tea. She then started to talk more freely as she stopped shivering and warmed up a little.

I told her why I had invited her back – not just to be kind but because I wanted to tell her that God has a plan for her life. I told her that whatever mistakes she has made, there is hope for her if she reaches out to Him.

I then asked if I could pray for her. She said yes. When I had finished a simple and short prayer, during which she cried fast-flowing tears, she smiled. For the first time. She suddenly looked young. She looked 21. She looked her age. All the years of worry and debt and doubt and abuse melted away just for an instant. I held her hand. It felt good to sit with her and let her hear some truth.

I asked her what she wanted to do and if she felt safe to go back to her house. She told me that her boyfriend’s parents would be there, so he would behave himself. I explained that I would not take her home if I felt she would not be safe and gave her my number to text me later. I also made sure I took hers. Just in case I needed to contact the police. There is no way I take that kind of abuse lightly. Baby or no baby.

I took her back to Sainsburys as she said she wanted some more fags.

As we said goodbye she looked so little and lost and small that I burst into tears as I drove away. NO-ONE should have to live like that!! No-one should be with such a dangerous person that their baby is taken away. At 21. What kind of reputation has she got? What hope does she have of release?

I’ll tell you. Every hope! Every possible hope is hers. Christ came for the Claires as well as the Ems’ of this world. His love for her is not diminished by her lack of social standing or her criminal record. She has never had the kind of parenting modelled to her that she so wants to be for her son. But she IS getting help.

Last night I waited two hours to get a text from her and ended up texting her. She said she was at her Mum’s, to avoid another row. She was very grateful in the text for our help.

I pray for Claire that she would be intrigued by the stranger in the carpark who took her in for an hour or two and just let her talk. I pray too that the situation with her baby is resolved and that she can be the mother she always dreamt of. I hope she stays in touch and that I can let you know how she is. Do pray for her and her situation.

Thanks

Ems