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Authors: Tracey Hoffmann

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BOOK: Anchored
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Both men stared intently at her and Mia trembled.

“Klara told me Mum had wanted to talk to me about certain things.” Mia waited for them to comment.

“Go on,” David requested.

“Klara said she’d been praying about it and believed the Lord wants her to talk to me about Mum. Were going to meet on Thursday next week.” Mia looked down at her hands and twisted them in her lap.

“You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to, honey.” Robert gave her a watery smile and her heart felt full just looking at him.

“I know, but if Mum wanted to talk to me then I think I want to hear what it was about.” Tears blurred her eyes and she asked God for the courage to speak of the darkness that had taken hold of her yesterday.

“After I left Klara’s, I came home and picked up Bruno to take him for a walk. I wanted to think and the beach seemed to be the perfect place to go. I hoped the fresh air would bring some clarity to my mind.”

She looked across at David as he shuffled in his seat. “I found myself going over and over in my head questions that I don’t know the answers to. I don’t know how it happened but somehow I must have lost sight of hope.”

Tears fell steadily from her eyes and she felt overcome with weariness. How had she ended up in the water? Had it really been her intention to kill herself?

“Mia, I’m going to pray.” David’s voice held authority and Mia nodded, sniffed, and dabbed at her eyes.

“Lord Jesus, you’re here now, I believe this with everything that’s in me. We stand firm on your word, we believe that you have conquered the grave and nothing can come against us. Yet wisdom tells us we have an enemy that’s out to destroy us. We need to be aware our fight is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil. Help us to stand firm and recognize that your power is greater.”

Mia opened her eyes, took a deep breath and continued. She told them how she found herself in the water and how Bruno had risked his life to swim out to her. She shared how she’d felt she was watching the whole thing from a distance, as if it wasn’t her in the water.

Unchecked tears flowed down Robert’s face. “Mia, I would never get over it if you killed yourself. Never! Do you hear me? I love you, honey, I love you!”

He charged across the room and pulled her close to his chest and held her tight as if her life depended on him not letting go. Together they drew comfort from each other, knowing the reality of what could have been.

“It’s hard to explain, Uncle Robert. I never planned to die, I want to live. I seemed to lose control of what I was doing, it was like I stepped back and watched. How can I know it won’t happen again?” Her hands twisted in her lap.

“Mia, that’s a lie, you have control over your body. You’re strong honey, I believe in you.”

“When I was lying on the sand afterwards I felt God’s presence. I knew he was there. Bruno swimming out to me was God saving me. He hates swimming yet there he was, way out of his depth and trying to get my attention. David finding me in such darkness – was a miracle.”

Mia closed her eyes and felt the stillness in the room, noticeably different from the torment that had been her constant companion yesterday.

 

Chapter 21

Holding his eyes shut tight, Jonathan refused to acknowledge he was awake. He shivered and pulled his arm under the blanket. Grunting, he rolled over and tossed around the bed.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed in disgust, he pushed his feet into his slippers and reached for his dressing gown.

Moving into the lounge, he turned on the heating and shuffled into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As he waited for the kettle to boil he remembered how Margaret would often get up with him if he was unable to sleep. She’d make the tea and they’d sit in the lounge and talk together quietly about many things.

He pictured her sitting with her feet curled up under her, her pink dressing gown covering every inch of her body. She’d always brought dressing gowns too big saying they needed to be snuggly.

Those had been good times.

Pouring his tea, he sighed deeply. His hand rubbed the stubble on his chin and his forehead puckered. He hadn’t treated her with the respect she deserved.

Sadness furrowed his brow with deep creases as he pictured her smiling face encouraging him, loving him.

He hated living on his own and wondered why he hadn’t given in to Judy’s insistent nagging to move in together.

Picking up the cup, his hand shook slightly as he lifted it to his lips. What would Mia think if Judy moved in?

Slamming the cup on the saucer Jonathan stood and stomped around the room.

“Why should I care about what Mia thinks? She doesn’t call me. It’s like she’s forgotten she has a father.”

He stopped and peered through the curtain but only darkness greeted him. Dropping the fabric he went back to his chair. Resting his head back he closed his eyes.

What sort of father are you? When have you ever considered how Mia felt?

Jonathan shifted on his seat wringing his hands and sweat began to appear under his eyes.

“You know why she’s not coming around or calling. Why would she now that Margaret’s gone? She doesn’t feel safe with you on her own.”

He pictured Mia shrinking before him when he walked into her bedroom. Her words rang in his ears, haunting him. “I don’t like it when you do that, please it hurts, please don’t, Daddy.”

His breath caught and he rubbed his hands frantically through his hair. Her little face had seemed all eyes and her fear had screamed out to him. He remembered holding his hand over her mouth. It had covered most of her little face.

Lifting his hand he gazed at the size of it, his head drooped with shame as he contemplated his actions.

“No, no, I love her, she’s my little girl. I didn’t do anything wrong, I showed her how much I love her, it was okay! She’s my daughter and I had the right to love her, to teach her how to love me, I know I did.”

Did you?


Shut up! You don’t know what you are saying. I didn’t mean to hurt her, I love her. Do you hear me?”

You were meant to protect her. You betrayed her.

“Mia—did Daddy hurt you, baby?”

The tears surprised him. He never cried. It was a sign of weakness.

His mind flitted to another memory. His father was walking away from him carrying a suitcase. How old would he have been, ten, maybe? He recalled running beside his father and grabbing hold of his arm, begging him not to go. His father stopped and picked him up and shook him hard. Yelling at him to stop being a baby and saying that real men don’t cry. Then he’d flung him to the ground and kept walking.

That was the last time he’d seen his father. He remembered the humiliation he’d felt and how determined he’d been never to cry again.

He touched his cheek with a finger and looked at the moisture.

Who’d really care anyway? Not Mia, not Judy. Judy only wanted to control and use him, she didn’t love him, not like Margaret had.

The silence in the room felt deafening and Jonathan wanted to get up and turn on some music, anything to break the spell that had come over him. “If only there was someone I could talk to, someone who could tell me I’m a good guy. Someone to reassure me that everything will be okay.”

He pulled at his hair and dragged his dressing gown down off his shoulders. Heat surged through his body as if he stood on a firing block waiting for the bullet to penetrate his chest.

“Come on, Jonathan, who could you talk to? Once they know what you did they would despise you.”

His head nodded forward and he acknowledged the truth. He didn’t want to try and justify himself. He felt bone weary and the strategies he’d developed over the years to hide from others, but mostly to hide from himself, seemed to fall off. 

I didn’t care about anyone but myself. Margaret gave me everything she had and I still turned from her. She believed in me and I lived a lie, never allowing myself to love her back.

Mia loved him from the beginning. As a baby she’d smiled at the sound of his voice and had always reached out her chubby little arms to him, He’d adored her. When had adoration turned into—?

“Come on man, say it, you know what you did to her—your own daughter!”

The groan escaped from the pit of his soul and the sound vibrated around the empty room. Jonathan hung his head and rolled into a ball, rocking slowly back and forth. Was there ever a time when I considered others?

His fingers tore at his skin and the heat on his neck seemed excruciating now. The last time he’d hit Mia hadn’t been that long ago. Margaret was still alive and although they all lived in the same house Mia had seemed to develop a way of zoning him out.

Margaret was out and Mia had picked up her car keys from the bench and started to walk towards the door. He’d asked her where she was going and she’d told him she was going out to pick up some groceries for Robert.

For some reason he hadn’t wanted her to leave. He’d wanted to spend time with her. Instead he found himself telling her she wasn’t Robert’s packhorse and that she was always groveling around him like a slave! He’d been jealous of her devotion to Robert and wanted to hit out at her.

Mia had looked at him and said at least her Uncle appreciated what she did for him and deserved her respect.

Jonathan remembered feeling angry that she would mock him and before he could stop himself he’d swiped her across her cheek. The knock had sent her flying and he’d wanted to go and help her up, but the fear and contempt in her eyes had kept him still and silent. He never spoke the words of apology that longed to be spoken.

“Why hasn’t she ever said anything?” Jonathan stared blankly into space.

He was doomed, and death was better than knowing the truth. How had he managed to lie to himself and continue this way? For years he’d not given a damn about anyone else, but now, at this moment he knew it was over.

He had nothing left. No one loved him and he didn’t blame them. He hated himself and something in him snapped.

He’d never felt so lonely. He was lost, sinking into the darkest pit and willingly allowing the blackness to cover him.

“I don’t deserve love, I don’t deserve for Mia—”

Jonathan felt a breeze on his face and became aware of the stillness in the room. Where had the breeze come from?

It was then that he heard it.

Jonathan.

Jonathan didn’t feel afraid, he was past afraid. If there was a price to pay for what he’d become, he would pay it and be done with it. The presence in the room didn’t seem sinister.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Dare he say something? Was Margaret’s God in the room with him?

Bracing himself, he half expected to be struck down as he looked around and whispered into the stillness, “I know who you are. You’re Margaret’s God. You don’t know me. If you did you wouldn’t be here. I have—I’m nothing. I turned my back on you and have cursed you over and over again.”

I know your going out and your lying down, I am familiar with all your ways. Come to me, I love you.

His face flamed with shame and he cowered down. He was the lowest of the low, to have sex with his own daughter. He’d defiled her, used her.

“Mia, I’m—I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry.”

Margaret’s voice pushed into his mind. She’d told him there was nothing he could do to earn salvation, that Jesus had done it all for him. Jesus had paid the penalty for his sin by dying on the cross in his place. All he had to do was believe and then God would forgive him for what he’d done.

“That might work for some people, but not me! Not after what I’ve done. How can I be set free from abusing my own daughter? I did it and can never make it right!”

It was like Margaret was in the room with him and he could hear her saying, “No, you can never make it right. If you could you would not need a Savior.”

As soon as the slightest glimpse of hope began to build in his heart he stomped it out. He couldn’t allow himself to be forgiven, what right did he have?

He moved across the lounge and paused in front of a needlework Margaret had spent month’s painstakingly stitching. Slowly he read the words of the verse.

Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His holy name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

Jonathan fingered the stitching of the eagle in flight and felt a shift in his heart. Could it be possible that this God could forgive him?

“I’m scum, I’m selfish and have never considered others, so how can you love me, want me? How can you—how could you have died for me?”

It is finished, come to me.

Jonathan didn’t understand. What is finished?

His eyes searched out the words, hungry for an answer.

‘Forgives all your sins’, did Margaret believe this? Is that why she’d stitched the verse so he’d one day believe it? What would this forgiveness mean? He didn’t deserve it, so how could he justify accepting such love when he’d never considered anyone but himself?

He wanted to take this step but something stopped him.

“If you are God then give me the opportunity to make things right with Mia. Then I will know that you are who you say you are, and then I will be able to stand before you.”

Jonathan closed his eyes. He felt broken, vulnerable, but held on tight to a determination that wouldn’t let him yield.

He knew something had happened and he’d changed. He felt lighter and didn’t want to go back to the way things were.

He would try and put some things right before he met face to face with Margaret’s God, and then and only then would he know he was accepted.

Chapter 22

Entering the café, Mia spotted Klara and weaved her way towards her table. Mia kissed her cheek and took her seat.

BOOK: Anchored
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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