Dave and I were Traveling home last Friday after a long week of filming in Colorado for Hometown Takeover. We were tired and really, really ready to be home.

After we went through security and stopped off to buy a souvenir for each of the kiddos, we headed to our Gate with little time to spare. As we walked down the stairs, we noticed a mom with a baby in a carrier strapped to her chest and a toddler who was in full-meltdown-mode. He was thrashing and wailing and she was very visibly struggling with the luggage, the baby, the stroller and the out-of-control toddler. We walked quickly down the stairs and headed her way to see if we could help. By the time we arrived, an older couple was alongside her trying to calm the little boy. We assumed they were the grandparents and decided to leave them alone and not intrude.

However, we both felt a nudge to stay for a moment longer just to be sure they were okay. As we watched the interaction, we realized the older couple wasn’t related to this young family and were offering their help. So, we walked over and asked if there was anything we could do. The visibly exhausted mom didn’t hesitate to accept. She handed off luggage, including a car seat that was precariously balancing on the stroller and a very heavy backpack. She was struggling to pick up her son with the baby strapped on her chest and asked if I would pick him up and set him in the stroller. I tried to calm him down in order to pick him up but he wasn’t having it. We tried coaxing him into the stroller on his own. Instead, he rolled on the floor and screamed as loudly as possible.

Dave and I, along with the other couple, spoke calmly to the little guy and, eventually, I was able to lift him into the stroller. He refused to stay in and, as his mom pushed, he climbed out. This went on for about twenty minutes.

Our flight was now boarding at the gate and each precious minute that ticked by meant we were closer and closer to missing our flight. If we missed the flight – it was the only one that night headed to NW Arkansas – we would be stuck in Denver until the next morning. I had established a countdown with the kids that was based on how many “sleeps” we would be away and they had woken up that morning so excited because we had “no more sleeps!” apart. We could not miss the flight. We had to get home.

This thought pounded in my mind as we helplessly tried to assist this momma to her gate. Finally, mercifully, the little boy agreed to race Dave and I on the moving sidewalk. We were moving forward, closer to her gate which was fifty gates past our own. The little guy eventually started laughing and found the new game entertaining. We were making progress.

As we raced along, I asked the mom where they were traveling from. She told me they had been visiting her husband who was in the military, stationed halfway across the globe. This hit me so hard. She was emotional, exhausted and had been traveling for over 24 hours. Her kiddos had left their daddy after a brief visit. They were emotional and exhausted. She also shared that her son had diabetes and his blood sugar was too high, causing the erratic behavior.

We finally made it to their gate, said goodbye and wished them well on their journey and then raced back to our own gate. We were the final two passengers to board. But, we made it. I exhaled in deep relief as we settled into our seats.

This all happened a little over a week ago and I still can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how we could have easily ignored the struggling mom and went straight to our gate because our own kids needed us to make it home. I can’t stop thinking about how the other couple could have made their way to baggage claim and headed to their home nearby.

Instead, we offered what little we could: extra hands and a little encouragement.

I’m not sharing this to garner any praise for what we did. It was truly so little. (And, I always lend a hand to a struggling momma traveling with young kids in an airport because I’ve been there and have been the recipient of the kindness of strangers).

I’m sharing this because it’s a very tangible reminder of the fact that we never really know what someone else is going through. Before we are quick to judge the toddler who is acting out or the momma who is exhausted and visibly struggling, we should offer a hand to help. The four of us had no way of knowing her son was sick or that they had been traveling for two days after visiting their deployed father. We just knew she needed help. And, we answered the gentle nudge urging us to do so. We helped in a small way. We carried luggage and made a little boy laugh.

I pray I never become so caught up in my own pressing needs and overpacked schedule to notice the needs of others.

In this season of life, I sometimes find myself on autopilot. Racing from one commitment to the next. Never stopping to glance beside me. Never checking to see if there is a need I could easily meet. This interaction in Terminal B at Denver International Airport reminded me to slow down and look around. It reminded me that, in our humanity, we all very similar. We all have struggles that are both visible and invisible. We can all use an extra hand from time to time. It reminded me to be slow to judge and quick to help.

I’m sharing here because maybe someone else needs this reminder today, as well. We all have something to offer. Let’s keep offering what we have and remaining open to ways we can help others.

The post Be quick to help. appeared first on Blessings and Raindrops.