Silent Cry (29 page)

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Authors: Dorothy J. Newton

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BOOK: Silent Cry
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In the past, when something tragic happened to me, I
pushed it down, dealing with
it on my own and never sharing my pain with anyone. I got this terrible news while
I was in the middle of my session with Rebecca. I talked with her about how I would
handle it. I shared with her how close I had grown to my father. I had been given
the opportunity to get to know him much better and had bonded with my brother and
his family. I knew he was sick, but I had not expected him to die. Rebecca was there
for me. She encouraged me to connect with Lynn and Ingrid and let them know how this
affected me. I promised her I would.

The following day, I went to work and told no one. I didn't let anyone know how sad
I was. But as I'd promised Rebecca, I called Ingrid and Lynn and asked them to go
to church with me. Both agreed. On the way to church, I told them that my father
died. It was the strangest feeling — I was not used to telling someone when I was
hurting or in need. Ingrid and Lynn were wonderful. Even this small act was a breakthrough
for me.

Things with Nate were much better now. I could see evidence of change in him. He
was no longer angry when he saw me. We could be civil to each other in public settings,
as well as in private. I knew he and his wife had gotten involved in church, and
I prayed that the changes in him were genuine — that at last he had truly found the
Lord. I hoped he was also living a new life. I forgave Nate in my heart for everything
— I was free, and I wanted Nate to be free also. I wanted him to have a good relationship
with Tré and King. They had made their peace with him and, I hoped, with their past.
I truly wanted God's best for Nate Newton.

Tré had experienced several concussions in his years playing for the University
of Texas. Nate and I flew to Austin and met with him and a team of doctors. Their
advice was that Tré should no longer play football. We did our own research and found
out as much information as we could. In the end, it was Tré's decision. He had information
from his coaches, from the medical staff, and from us, but it was his decision to
play or to give up football. Ultimately, he was the one who had to live with the
choice, so we let him make it. In November 2010, he held a press conference and announced
he would no longer play football.

The news was hard on the whole family. Tré had loved football since he was two years
old. The only toys he ever wanted as a boy were footballs and little football men.
He loved everything about the NFL. He loved watching Nate play and was proud that
his daddy was a pro. He was also a scholar who was attending school on a football
scholarship. Nate and I both supported his decision 100 percent. Tré told me he
knew it would be selfish to continue playing. Another serious injury could leave
him an invalid for life — and that would have meant I had to take care of him. He
didn't want that for me.

Remarkably, UT honored his football scholarship. They did not penalize him because
he was injured and unable to play. He continued to support the team, working with
them and being involved from the sidelines. His passion for football had to express
itself in other ways.

In February 2011, I received an invitation to attend WILD (Women in Leadership Development),
a mentoring program offered through Gateway Church. The invitation indicated that
all the meetings were held on weekdays. I was working
full-time, so I knew I wouldn't
be able to attend. I discarded the invitation without giving it much thought.

When my friend Holly asked if I had received an invitation to WILD, I told her I
did but I dismissed it because of work. “Dorothy,” she exclaimed, “do you realize
how many women would give anything for an opportunity like this? This is special.
You should at least pray about it.”

I retrieved the invitation and forwarded it to my boss. It was a leadership class,
and we were encouraged to attend classes that aimed to develop our leadership and
management skills. “This class meets for two hours each week,” I wrote in an email.
“Would it be okay for me to attend?”

Seconds after I hit the Send button, the reply came back. “Absolutely!” it read.
My last excuse was gone. I accepted the invitation.

CHAPTER 31

WILD

For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.

Nelson Mandela

I
showed up for the first WILD class feeling a little shy. I wasn't really sure why
I
was
here. I had always considered myself a leader, but there were just twenty-five people
in the room, and I felt uncomfortable in such a small, intimate setting. The class
facilitators began by asking each person to give her name and share something about
herself.
Oh, no
, I thought.
I do not want to do this!
But I knew I was supposed to
be there, so I did my best. And I ended up enjoying the class very much. The women
were all really wonderful, and I was learning a lot.

Early on, Jan Greenwood, one of the teachers, announced that each member of the class
would have to present a project at the end. This frightened me.
What kind of project?
Jan gave very few guidelines, and I preferred strict rules and expectations. The
open-ended nature of the assignment made me uncomfortable. I also had a good idea
of what my project was supposed to be, and that made me uncomfortable too.

Two years earlier, God had spoken to me and told me I was supposed to write my story.
The next morning, I met Nate at a restaurant so he could drop off something for the
boys. I told him, “Last night, God told me I was supposed to write a book.” I even
suggested to Nate that perhaps we should write it together. But I hadn't done anything
about it since.

Over the next few weeks, I prayed in earnest about whether or not I should pursue
writing my story as my class project. I asked a friend, Janet Gray, to pray about
it with me. About a month later, I attended a function in Janet's new home, and
she
gave me a tour. One very small room was designated as her prayer closet. Inside,
I noticed she had tacked up a picture of me with the boys, and next to it was a
slip of paper with writing on it indicating she had been praying for us. In that
moment, I felt I had confirmation that God was planning something great for me.

At the next class, Jan Greenwood asked if everyone was comfortable with their project
and told us that if we weren't, we could ask her or one of the other teachers about
it. After class, I approached her and said, “I don't want to miss the last class
just because I don't want to do this project. I really appreciate the class. I will
complete the assignment, and I don't mind sharing it with you, but I really don't
want to share this with everyone.”

“What is it?” Jan asked.

“It's a book overview,” I said.

“Does God want you to write the book?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “I know for sure that I'm supposed to write the book.”

“Then why won't you be obedient?”

I stood there looking at her, thinking,
You don't even know me. Why are you talking
to me this way?

“Listen,” she said, “God isn't asking you to write a bestseller, He just wants you
to be obedient.”

She was calling me out. She was so serious.

“I don't know why I am being this firm with you, but I need to tell you that God
wants to use you and that you need to be obedient.” She didn't say another word after
that. I left feeling a little mad at her.
You don't have to be so mean
, I thought.

On the day I was to present my overview in class, I arrived forty-five minutes early
and sat in my car praying. “Do not fear,” I clearly heard God say to my heart. “I
will be with you. Not just today either, but every day for the rest of your life.
You are
a vessel. I have purposed and planned your life, and this book is by my design.”

I was flooded with total peace.
I could do this!

When my turn came, I stepped up front and gave the overview. When I was finished,
everyone applauded. “Thank you,” I said. “I was happy to be obedient.” I caught Jan's
eye, and she smiled and nodded her approval.

A few weeks after the class ended, Jan contacted me and said she felt God was prompting
her to start a writers group. She asked if I'd be interested. “Sure,” I said, not
expecting anything to materialize.

I had been obedient and completed the project. I stood in front of a roomful of people
and shared some dark and painful parts of my story. This had been a big step for
me, and I was ready to let it go. But it wasn't long until I received an email from
Jan announcing that the writers group was a go and inviting me to attend. We met
once a month on Monday evenings for six months. Jan provided great information, and
it was a good class. I began making progress on the actual writing process, but I
still felt like I didn't really know what I was doing.

One week, Jan arranged for a guest speaker named Wendy Walters to come to our meeting.
In addition to giving practical information about writing and publishing, she asked
each of us to tell her about our projects. She was full of energy and affirmed that
what each of us had to share was unique and important. Then she gave us simple, straightforward
action steps to follow through on. By the end of the evening, the room was bursting
with creative energy, and each of us found ourselves thinking,
I can do this!

A week later, I called Wendy to set up an appointment to meet with her. From that
very first meeting, our conversation never felt like business. It was like we were
old friends talking
about next steps to push my project along. She willingly shared
with me what she knew about writing and the publishing process, even recommending
other people who might be a better fit to help me with my project.

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