Until Forever (Women of Prayer) (14 page)
Her next stop was in front of Aunt Merry’s church, the place Jessi had attended Sunday school as a child. This was where she learned that she was different from everyone else, where she heard the grownups whisper about her when they thought she wasn’t listening. They gossiped about the little girl whose parents abandoned her to live a life free from encumbrances that the little girl inevitably brought to their lives. Not thinking through their actions, the adults reinforced the feelings of worthlessness that Jessi had already felt. No one knew that while she seemed preoccupied, she was actually listening to everything they said. She learned the art of being invisible at a very early age and therefore heard many things that were not intended for her ears. Only after the damage had been done—and Jessi would hold a grudge against the church for many years to come—did Aunt Merry explain that eavesdropping was not a proper thing to do, and in most cases what people had to say wasn’t worth listening to anyway, especially when they spoke in hushed tones.
When she was little, she had listened in to her parents discussing the accident of her birth and how neither her mother nor her father were happy they had a young child in tow. Later, when they finally decided to hand her over to Aunt Merry to raise, she hated them for not loving her. She took her anger out on her aunt, who loved her regardless, unconditionally. It was a long and difficult process for both of them, yet neither would change a thing. She also learned about Jesus in this church. He was someone that neither her father nor her mother ever spoke of. He was all Aunt Merry talked about, though. She tried to teach Jessi that Jesus loved her. Jessi had already come to the conclusion that she was unlovable and therefore, not worthy of Jesus’s love; the conversations she overheard confirmed this in her mind. She decided to move on.
The next drive Jessi took was the route that Mark had taken the day of the accident. She drove past the grocery store and the bar. She parked by the tree that still bore the evidence of being hit. She ran her fingers over the indentation and looked for little pieces of glass that might still be there. She walked down the road to where a flower cross stood, still reminding all who passed that someone who was loved dearly died in this very spot. Each day, it seemed, she forgot some little detail, something she never thought she would forget. She pictured the accident happening, as she had done a hundred—no, a thousand—times before, and found that while she was still very much affected by the memories she held on to, with or without her, time forged on; and somewhere along the way, she decided she wanted to move on as well and live. When that happened, she did not know. Sometimes she caught herself remembering the good times and laughing out loud, like the time she was playing catch with Ethan and threw a crazy ball, which of course he dove after and ended up with a black eye from when it swerved back toward him. At the time she felt horrible because she was the cause of his pain, but later, when they looked at that big shiner, they both started laughing. To this day she couldn’t tell you how to throw a curveball. Maybe that was when her healing process started, when she started remembering Ethan for who he was and not because he was hers to lose. She was confused by her own thoughts, unsure if she should be thinking this way. She decided to go to Ethan’s grave.
She sat cross-legged in front of Ethan’s tombstone. Jessi found some peace in the fact that this visit didn’t start out in tears like all her other visits had. She began to tell him about her day. “Hi, Ethan. It’s me, Mom. I just wanted to stop today and talk with you. I know you won’t answer me, but I’m hoping that you can hear me and that maybe if you talk with God, he will help me find peace and healing so I can be a better mom for your sister. You would love her, Ethan. She is so different from you, yet so much like you. She doesn’t look anything like you and me; she’s the spitting image of your dad. Crazy, huh? Same dark hair and bright green eyes. She’s got a temper, too. You wouldn’t believe it. Says exactly what she thinks before she thinks. Sometimes that can be a good thing, sometimes not, but it’s your sister, and we love her for it. Lately, she’s been making me think about how I’ve been living. I’ve been living in our past, Ethan, and that’s not fair to her. She needs a mom who’s not afraid to live in the present. She has so much passion and enthusiasm for life that I feel sometimes I’m smothering her with my pain. It’s not that I want to forget you; I could never do that. It’s just that I need to start remembering the good stuff and letting the bad stuff go. I need to be able to share all those great times we had with her so she can get to know you. I think that’s what you would want me to do anyway, but I thought I better check with you on it. I know that you’ve forgiven me, Ethan. I can sense it in my heart. I’m learning to forgive myself. I don’t know that I will ever fully forgive myself, but at least I’m trying. It’s already the end of June, and we’ll be heading back to Wisconsin in a few weeks. I’ll come back to say good-bye before we leave. I love you, son. Until forever, always remember that.”
Chapter 17
Some say that God is easier to find in the rich colors of the north
, Merry thought as she looked around at the dry, red earth around her. Personally, she’d never had a problem finding him here in her little corner of earth. Everything around her spoke of God’s love, mercy, and grace. In a woman down on her knees coaxing flowers to grow out of stubborn, fruitless soil, she saw God’s patience when dealing with all the humanness of his children, painstakingly wiping their tears and holding their hands while helping them back on the path from which they wandered. In a father and his son playing ball outside, the father teaching the boy the art of catching the ball, all evidence of our heavenly Father molding and teaching his children in ways of righteousness and wisdom. Finally, looking west, she saw insurmountable beauty as the colors of the setting sun blended perfectly with redness of the earth, creating a memory in her mind that could never be saved to canvas. This was God. Only God could take something that looked so desolate and lifeless and make it more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.
Merry had taken to walking lately. It wasn’t very far from her house to Mabel’s house, where prayer group was being held this evening. Along the way, she prayed, ever mindful of seeing God in all she passed. She considered this time her quiet time, even with all the things going on around her. Today she passed a young mother pushing a stroller with a child propped up to see the sights. The obvious bond they shared reminded her of God’s love for his children. They smiled and said hello as they passed.
Things had been a bit noisier than usual at home with a five-year-old girl in the house, not that she would have it any other way, but it did limit the amount of quiet time she could spend in prayer. Walking was the perfect answer. She could be in her surroundings without having to pay particular attention to them. She could stay focused on the Lord and his will for her family, directing her in prayer.
Mark had been a regular part of life here lately, and she saw the difference he made in Olivia’s life. Olivia needed a father as much as Jessi needed a husband, only she would never say that within Jessi’s hearing. No telling what the girl would do. Time would tell what part Mark would play in all their lives. God had given her a measure of peace regarding the situation, but sometimes God’s solutions were not in line with his followers’. Of course, if Merry got to choose the outcome it would be a relatively short one. Jessi would accept Jesus, and then she and Mark would remarry, giving Olivia both a mother and a father to love and raise her. Tada! But she knew it wasn’t wise to second-guess God.
Merry continued on her walk, letting her mind wander to and fro. There still was no word on whether Mark would be able to move to Wisconsin. He’d been uptight at his last visit, thinking he should have had an answer by now. She told him to wait on the Lord; he would provide the patience needed to do so as well.
Jessi was coming along. Though still not ready to accept the Lord, she had come to terms with Mark being in their lives, just barely.
Maintaining an attitude of worship and prayer, Merry fluctuated between humming a worship song and giving voice to bits and pieces of prayers that overflowed from her heart. “Oh, Lord, wouldn’t it have been so much easier if you had created us to love and worship you? Oh, just ignore this old woman, Lord. I’m just trying to do your job for you again.”
Merry knew that the joy in being loved was in the willingness of the lover; otherwise it wouldn’t be love. Practicing patience was still on her daily agenda, a virtue that she hadn’t perfected in the twenty-six years since becoming a Christian, and didn’t think she would perfect this side of heaven, a place she would not see until everyone she loved was safe and had security in spending eternity alongside her, praising the Father.
She looked up and realized she had been so engrossed in her thoughts she had passed Mabel’s house. She backtracked half a block and entered into a place set aside for prayer. The women had already finished their snack when Merry had arrived and were heading to their prayer closets. Merry joined right in and remained in the attitude of worship and prayer, the sole reason for coming.
Chapter 18
It had been two weeks since Mark had talked with his parole officer, and still he hadn’t heard a word from him. He had called and left a message inquiring about things a week after the meeting, as he’d been instructed to do, but still hadn’t heard whether or not he’d be able to move. He was running out of patience. He finished sweeping the break room and headed toward the time clock. Another day of work done. It felt good to have and hold a job. He’d been working six days a week for the past two weeks, and he was about to get his first paycheck. He decided to celebrate and buy a little gift for Olivia, not that there would be much left after paying rent and buying what little groceries he could survive on. But in case he couldn’t move until his probation period was done, he wanted to give her something to remember him by. He picked up his check and walked to the little gift shop that was across the street. He had just enough time to make his purchase and still catch his bus. He bought a four-by-six picture frame that had “Me and My Dad” written across the top. He bought a disposable camera and was going to ask Aunt Merry to take a picture of the two of them together, and then he’d put one in the frame and give it to her. He would buy himself a frame later. Hopefully she would like it. Mark made it to the bus stop just in time to catch the bus.
When he got home there was a note taped to his door. His next-door neighbor had volunteered the use of his phone for Mark’s work and for his parole office to be able to reach him. The note read, “Terry called and wants you to call him at home as soon as you get this message. Come on over, and you can use my phone. I should be home. Brian.”
Mark sat down in the chair in the living room, not knowing if he would be ecstatic in a few minutes or depressed, praying to God that it would be the former. Not wanting to put it off any longer, he walked to Brian’s apartment and knocked on the door.
The door opened, “Oh, hey, Mark; come on in.” Brian stepped aside and let Mark in the door. “You got my message, then. Good.”
Mark walked to where the phone rested, took a deep breath, picked it up, and dialed the number. On the third ring, he heard a familiar voice answer the phone. “Hello.”
“Hi, Terry. This is Mark Jenson.”
“Hey, Mark. Good to hear from you. How is your new job going?”
Even though he wanted to hear the answer Terry had for him, he answered his question quickly, trying to be patient and end the small talk. “It’s going good. I’ve really enjoyed the work.” He decided to get right to point. “Have you heard anything yet about my move to Wisconsin?”
“Well, that’s why I called. I have some good news for you. After looking at your prison record and talking with all your references, the judge has granted you permission to move to Wisconsin, with the understanding that you will be transferred to the Wisconsin parole program. Your parole period will remain the same, and you will be given a parole officer in Rock County, the county you have requested. Your paperwork should be finished and the transfer completed by the end of July, just a few weeks away. You got your wish, Mark. I’ll let you know when everything is in order. Good luck. I’m happy for you.”
Mark hung up the phone, and a huge grin spread across his face.
“Good news?” Brian asked, watching him from the living room.
“Better than good. An answer to prayer, that’s for sure. Looks like you’ll be losing a neighbor. I’ll be moving to Wisconsin at the end of the month.” Mark let out a whooping, “Yes!”
Brian knew a little bit of what Mark was going through. “Hey, man, I’m happy for you. There’s not much else worth having if you don’t have family to share it with. Let me know if you need anything while you’re still here.”