Dark Blue: Color Me Lonely with Bonus Content (17 page)

BOOK: Dark Blue: Color Me Lonely with Bonus Content
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Now Mike is opening a big, black leather Bible. “I’m going to read you something from the book of Revelation. This is an open invitation that Jesus offers to all of us. It’s in chapter three, verse twenty. Listen. ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.’”

Mike pauses now, looking around the room again. This time I don’t look down. I am too interested in what he’s going to say next. “This invitation that Jesus offers might sound strange to you at first. I mean, here he is, saying that he wants to come inside of you and to eat and drink. You might be thinking, what’s up with that? But think about it for a minute. Isn’t that what friends do together? I mean, if you’re really comfortable with each other it’s no big deal to grab a burger together or share a pizza. In fact, it’s a fun way to spend time with someone you like. Think about it: Would you enjoy sharing a meal with someone you can’t stand? So, what Jesus is saying is, hey, I want to be your friend. I want to be part of your life. I’m knocking on your door. Why don’t you let me come in?”

Now, to my total surprise, I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks. I look down at my lap and take in a deep breath. What’s going on here?

“Let’s pray,” Mike is saying now. “Dear Jesus, thank you for loving us so much that you want to be an intimate part of our lives. Thank you that you enjoy our company so much that you want to spend lots and lots of time with us. Thank you for wanting to become our best friend. Thank you for laying down your life just so that you could be part of ours. Amen.”

Fortunately, I have a chance to dry my tears while Mike is praying. Still, I think something is going on inside of me. I don’t know how to describe it, but I have this sense that maybe Jesus really is knocking on my heart. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I came here tonight. But I’m just not sure what to do next. Where do I go from here?

Kids are moving around now. Some are helping themselves to more donuts and coffee and apple cider. But I’m just standing by the door, part of me wishing that Edgar was ready to leave and part of me wanting to do something. I’m just not sure what.

“This is Kara,” says Edgar to Mike now.

“Hi, Kara,” says Mike. “Mike Greyson. Glad you could join us. So what do you think of our little Bible study group?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “It’s all kind of new to me.”

He nods. “That’s cool. Do you have any questions about anything you heard tonight?”

I consider this. “Well, sort of.”

He smiles. “Go ahead, shoot away. I can even handle criticism if that’s where you’re going.”

“No, that’s not it. I guess I’m just wondering, I mean if all that you said is true, then how do you go about this thing? How do you open the door and let Jesus come inside. I mean, like, where’s the doorknob?”

This makes Mike laugh. But not in a mean way. “That is a great
question. Where’s the doorknob?” He scratches his head now as if he’s really trying to figure this out. “First of all, I’d say it’s on the inside. And the nature of a doorknob is that you have to grab onto it and turn it to make it open. It’s not going to open by itself, is it?”

I shake my head, although I’m not totally sure I’m following him here.

“So you have to make a choice, Kara. You have to decide whether or not you want to actually reach for that doorknob and open the door. If you really want to open the door, then you simply make that choice. And then you invite Jesus to come inside of you. And once you’ve done that, your life will never be the same again. Right, Edgar?”

Edgar nods now. “Yeah, that’s what happened with me.”

“Me too,” says a girl named Chelsea that I vaguely know from school. “I’ve been a Christian for about a year now and it just keeps getting better and better.”

“You guys make it sound so easy,” I say with uncertainty. “Don’t you ever have doubts about any of this?”

“Of course,” says Mike. “Faith is like this journey you’re taking. It has its ups and downs. You get attacked by doubt sometimes. But each time you face it and continue moving forward, you just get stronger.”

Several others join in now, telling of various doubts and struggles they’ve experienced and how they eventually conquered them. All in all, it’s quite a convincing act. Not that I think it’s an act exactly. Actually I think these kids are sincere. I even think that what they’re saying is probably true. And it’s obviously the right thing for them. But does that really mean it’s the right thing for me?

I stew over all these things as Edgar drives me home in his uncle’s old black Caddie again. The rain is pouring down in sheets now and the windshield wipers are swiping back and forth at an amazing speed.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” he says when we reach the apartment complex. “I hope you’re not feeling confused by all this.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling, Edgar.”

He smiles. “Well, I’ll be praying for you.”

I don’t know whether to thank him or not. But I say goodnight and dash through the pouring rain toward the apartment.

Fortunately, Mom and Bree are glued to the TV, watching some new reality show that looks pretty stupid if you ask me. I tell them goodnight and head straight for my room. I peel off my soggy sweatshirt and kick off my wet shoes then sit down on my bed and try to figure out exactly what I’m feeling right now.

I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. I do this several times, hoping to clear my thoughts and calm my head. For some reason, tonight has stirred up all sorts of emotions in me. And I’m just not sure whether it’s a good thing or not. As I sit, I begin to realize that there is one predominate feeling that keeps rising to the surface. It is a longing.

Longing.

It’s not a word I normally use. But I know that it’s the right one. I
am
longing for something. Or rather someone. I am longing for someone to accept me and love me and to be my best friend. I guess I’ve known this all along. But for some reason it seems even more urgent tonight.

I think that I am longing for Jesus. But even as these thoughts pass through my mind, I am questioning it. How can this be? I don’t know anything about Jesus. Why would I suddenly long for him to come inside of me? Have I been brainwashed?

I take in a few more deep breaths and attempt once more to calm myself. But the longing remains. It is not going away.

“I stand at the door and knock . . . ” To my surprise, I remember
those words, and I suddenly envision Jesus standing out in the pouring rain just patiently knocking on my door. I know how it feels to be standing on the outside, just wishing someone would open the door and let you in. I know about the frustration of waiting and hoping that your friend will change her mind and open the door and say, “Hey, come on in! What have you been waiting for?” I know the disappointment when it doesn’t happen.

And suddenly I know that I don’t want to do that to Jesus. And I don’t want him to do it to me. So I imagine myself reaching for that doorknob and giving it a twist as I pull open the door.

Then to my surprise, I actually say, out loud, “Come on in, Jesus.” I take in a quick breath. “Come inside and make yourself at home.”

Then I sit and wait and soon I am crying again, but these seem to be happy tears. And a warm feeling begins to flow through me, almost like a gentle rush of electrical current and I realize that I’ve done it. I’ve really done it! I’ve invited Jesus into my heart. And he is really here.

I’m not sure if anyone else would call it praying, but I think that’s what I’m doing now. I am thanking Jesus for loving me and coming to live inside of me. And before long I am telling him about how lonely I’ve been and how hurt I’ve been and by the time I go to bed, I feel so much better.

It’s almost scary feeling this good. Because I’m afraid it won’t last. I’m afraid that when I get up tomorrow morning I’ll feel just as bummed as I felt this afternoon. I’m scared to death that it will all just fade away and I’ll be the same old lonely Kara Hendricks that I was before. And quite honestly, I just don’t know if I can handle it.

twenty-two

 

 

T
O MY COMPLETE SURPRISE
, I
WOKE UP QUITE EARLY THIS MORNING AND
I actually felt happy. It’s kind of weird too, since I really haven’t felt happy in weeks. And I don’t think it’s my birthday or anything special. It takes me a minute or two before I realize what’s going on. Then I remember how I invited Jesus into my heart last night, right here in my own bedroom.

Then I feel this cool rush of excitement. And not only do I feel happy, but I feel unexpectedly energetic too. So, I pull on my sweats and lace up my running shoes and I zip outside for a quick run. The sky is gray and there are puddles everywhere, but I feel elated as I leap and jump over them. It almost feels like I can fly!

When I get back to the apartment I still have time to get the first shower before Mom and Bree are even out of bed. It’s amazing.

“What’s up with you?” asks Bree as she spies me humming in the kitchen while I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice.

“Just feeling good,” I say with a smile. I have no doubts that I am totally confusing my little sister with my erratic behavior, but that’s okay. She might figure it out in time. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to tell her soon.

When my mom comes into the kitchen I realize that I need to tell her about skipping school yesterday. I’m not terribly proud of
what I did, but considering the circumstances and how I felt at the time, I think it should be understandable.

“I was just really depressed, Mom,” I finish up my explanation. “But, honestly, I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

She’s looking at me curiously now. “And you’re feeling better today?”

“Yeah, I feel great today.”

“And you’re not taking drugs or anything?”

I know she’s only partially joking. “No, Mom, this is a natural high.” Okay, maybe it’s really a supernatural high. The truth is, I’m not really sure how to classify these things.

“Well, I know you’ve been feeling pretty down lately, Kara. And it is nice to see you feeling better. Maybe you just needed a mental health day yesterday. I have to take those from my work too, you know. Okay, I’ll write you an excuse if you’re positive that you won’t play hooky again.”

“I really don’t think I will,” I assure her. Now part of me wants to tell her why, but I guess I still have this tiny reservation that I might be imagining the whole thing about Jesus being inside of me. And so I’ve decided to let some time go by before I go announcing to the world that I have “become a Christian.” But I do think I might tell Edgar. And maybe even Felicia too. Or not. We’ll see. Anyway, I am totally excited about today and ready to go to school.
Let my life begin!

Today as I walk down the hall I hold my head up high. I don’t care who I see or what they may or may not be thinking about me. All I care about is the fact that Jesus is inside me. I really believe that he is.

I see Jordan walking toward me now. Ashley and Shawna are with her. Normally this is just the type of scenario that would send ice water running through my veins. But today I am totally calm.

“Hey, Jordan,” I say to her as I smile and wave. “Hey, Ashley and Shawna.”

I get a thrill to see the slightly stunned looks on their faces. And I’m not terribly surprised to see that Shawna and Ashley don’t answer. But at least Jordan says, “Hey,” back. Of course, I’m sure those girls never expected the mealy-mouthed Kara Hendricks to actually speak to them first, and in public too. But why not?

I take a front-row seat in English and actually pay attention as Mr. Parker lectures in his usual monotone voice. I even take notes. It’s occurring to me that my midterm grades have suffered this fall and I plan to make up for it now.

The morning progresses in much this same way. And here’s what’s really weird. I’m actually beginning to think that people are way friendlier today. I’ve seen a lot more smiles and heard more greetings than ever before. I don’t even remember kids being this nice when I was best friends with Jordan, and she was pretty friendly with everyone. I wonder what has changed. Or is it just me?

By the time art rolls around I feel as if I’m about to burst. I can’t wait to tell Edgar the news. I know he will be happy for me. But to my dismay, he is not here.

“That’s odd,” says Felicia when she notices he’s missing. “I don’t think Edgar has ever been absent.”

“I hope he’s okay,” I say. But I’m sure he must be. After all, he is Edgar.

I work on my sketch and stay and have lunch with Felicia and Amy. It’s sort of nice just hanging with the girls today, although I do miss Edgar. And Amy seems a little down and Felicia is really absorbed in her painting of a rose.

I consider telling them about inviting Jesus into my heart, but for some reason it feels important to share this news with Edgar
first. And so I stay quiet. But in my quietness I have discovered that I am having this ongoing conversation with Jesus. And it is so cool. It feels like he’s interested in everything about me. It feels like he’s really becoming my best friend. And it keeps making me smile.

“What are you so happy about today, Kara?” asks Amy as lunchtime is about to end. “You in love or something?”

“In love with life,” I tell her.

She peers at me with interest. “You on something?”

I shake my head. “Just a natural high.”

She rolls her eyes at me now. “Yeah, yeah, sure. You’re probably just going bipolar on us. I have this cousin who’s manic-depressive and she can be just flipping crazy sometimes.”

“Well, that’s not what’s going on with me,” I assure her. “But thanks anyway.”

Then the bell rings and I clean up my stuff and head on my way. I see Jordan again, alone this time, and I actually pause to ask her how she’s doing.

Looking at me funny, as if she thinks I might be a card or two short of a full deck, she answers, “I’m okay. But what’s with you?”

“Just feeling happy is all,” I say with a smile. Then I turn and walk away. And for the first time since Jordan and I quit being friends I feel absolutely no regrets. It’s not that I hate her or anything, but I just don’t feel like I so desperately need her anymore. For the first time since kindergarten I feel like I am a whole and complete person. Or nearly. But I realize this is only because I’ve allowed Jesus to come inside of me and fill up that old empty hole.

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