Whispers from Yesterday (24 page)

Karen hadn’t expected to find her spirits lifting, like a heavy load from her shoulders, but they did. And she gave herself permission to feel happy and deeply loved. She knew there was much left unsettled, so many things within her heart she still had to work through. Tomorrow, she would have to face herself again. But not tonight. She wanted to enjoy this one night.

Tomorrow came sooner than she’d anticipated.

She hadn’t been asleep long when she heard her name, coming from a great distance. Like climbing out of a well, she forced herself awake, but not until she felt her shoulder being shaken.

“Karen, wake up. Wake up. Please.”

Blinking against the light, she finally realized who was speaking. “Patty, what is it?”

“It’s Miss Sophie. She’s sick. She’s not breathing right.”

Karen was out of bed in an instant. “Get Dusty,” she ordered as she rushed from her room and into her grandmother’s.

The bedside lamp was on, spilling a golden light onto the elderly woman where she lay, her back propped by several pillows. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted slightly. A definite, though soft, wheezing sound could be heard with each rise and fall of her chest.

“Grandmother?” Karen fought hard to keep fear from seeping into her voice. “Patty says you’re not feeling well.” She leaned over the bed and took hold of Sophia’s hand.

“Hard … to breathe.”

O God. Please don’t take her now. Not now.

She heard the screen door slam, and she looked over her shoulder as Dusty came into view. Their gazes met, holding for a heartbeat. Then he strode to the opposite side of the bed and assumed a similar position to hers. A few moments later, after studying the woman’s shallow breathing and her pale countenance, he released her hand and left the room, a deep frown drawing his brows close together.

“Patty,” Karen whispered. “Stay with her.” She hurried after Dusty. She found him in the kitchen, the telephone in hand.

“Who are you calling?” she asked, although she knew. “An ambulance.”

She clutched the back of a kitchen chair. “You don’t think—?”

Her question was cut short when Dusty’s phone call was answered. He quickly gave a brief description of Sophia’s problem, followed by meticulous directions to the Golden T.

After he hung up the phone, she asked, “How long will it take them to get here?”

“They’ve got a lot of miles to cover.”

It was an unsatisfactory answer, but it was the best she was going to get. Dusty was already walking back to the bedroom. She followed, pausing in the open doorway to watch as he took Sophia’s hand for a second time, dropped to his knees beside the bed, and began to pray.

It was a long night.

The sun was well up before Dusty drove the van toward the ranch. Karen sat, cloaked in silence, in the front passenger seat. An exhausted Patty slept in the seat behind him.

A mild heart attack, a doctor at the hospital had finally told them, but the prognosis was good, taking into consideration Sophia’s age.

It wasn’t as if Dusty didn’t know she was old and could go at any time. But knowing in his head and accepting in his heart were two different things. He loved Sophia Taylor. While not related by blood, she was the only family he had left in the world.

I’m not ready for this, Lord. Purely selfish on my part. I know she’ll be going to a better place when the time comes, and I shouldn’t want to keep her here. But I do.

He glanced toward Karen.

She’s not ready either. She needs Sophia, and she’s just beginning to understand her need for You. Without her grandmother here to—

He stopped the thought before he could finish it.

Let us keep Sophia awhile longer, Father. Let her share her wisdom and love with us.

Arriving home, Dusty brought the van to a stop near the porch.
The front door stood open, a reminder of how quickly they’d left. How many hours ago had that been? It seemed an eternity. “Are we home?” Karen asked softly.

“Yes.” He cut the engine. “We’re home.” He opened his door and got out, then went around and slid open the side door, reaching in to give Patty a gentle shake. “Wake up, Patty.”

The girl barely stirred.

Recognizing the inevitable, he stepped into the van, lifted Patty into his arms, and carried her to the house. She mumbled something unintelligible when he laid her on her cot in Sophia’s room, then she rolled onto her side, undisturbed.

Wishing he could sleep that soundly, Dusty removed Patty’s shoes and socks, pulled the sheet and blanket over her, then left the bedroom.

Karen was in the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee.

“Shouldn’t you try to get some sleep?” he asked.

“I don’t think I could.” She looked over her shoulder. “Is Patty okay? “

“I doubt she’ll wake up until evening. You know how it is with teenagers.”

Karen nodded. “Yes.” She retrieved a coffee mug from the dish drain and held it up, questioning him with her eyes.

“Sure. Why not? I probably wouldn’t sleep either.”

She set the mug, along with one for herself, on the table. Then she opened the refrigerator and took the creamer from the door.

“I could scramble some eggs,” she said as she placed the carton in the center of the table.

“No, thanks. Not hungry.”

He sat on a chair while she returned to the counter and stood before the coffeepot, watching it brew. The seconds dragged by in silence, both of them lost in thought.

“Dusty?” Karen turned to look at him. “Would you answer a question for me?”

“Of course. If I can. What is it?”

“I was wondering …” She paused, worrying her lower lip. “I was wondering, if God’s supposed to love us so much, why does He let good people like my grandmother suffer?”

Dusty released a humorless chuckle. “You don’t ask easy ones, do you? I’m not sure I’m thinking clearly enough to answer that.”

“You mean you don’t know the answer.” She sounded suddenly angry.

“No,” he answered firmly. “That’s not what I mean. I mean it’s not something I can answer in fifteen seconds after a long, sleepless night.”

She glared at him, and behind her veneer of anger, he recognized her confusion and emotional pain.

He sighed. “Get the coffee, and we’ll talk.”

A few moments later, she set steaming mugs on the table, then sat on a chair opposite him.

Help me out here, Lord.

“Years ago,” he began after a short while, “when I was a brand-new believer, I asked the same sort of question of Jock. I guess this sorta serves me right.” He shrugged, making light of it while waiting for a bolt of inspired knowledge to strike him.

It didn’t. He was going to have to wade through these waters as best he could, trusting the Lord would stop him if he spoke in error.

“First of all, I believe the answers for everything are in the Bible. So when you ask a question like that, all I know how to do is answer with Scripture.”

She nodded but said nothing as she sipped her coffee.

“Second, I don’t have a corner on truth. But I know Who
has

the answers. I haven’t learned all He has to teach me. And I never will. There’ll be something new to learn, right up to the day I die.”

Again she acknowledged his words with a nod.

“Okay.” He folded his hands on the table before him and leaned forward. “I believe we live in a natural, fallen world. Suffering was introduced because mankind chose to sin rather than to walk with God. And because of that, bad things happen to everybody, the just and the unjust. Pain is a part of life, and so’s death. Some pain’s even good for us. If you touch a hot burner on the stove, it’s pain that causes you to pull back. If you didn’t feel anything, you could lose your hand.”

He wondered what she was thinking behind those pale blue eyes.

“But for believers, God causes all things to work together for good, even those things the devil means for ill. God the Father is sovereign. He knows what’s best for us. He allows us to go through times of testing and trial for our own good and for the greater good of His kingdom.”

“How could my grandmother’s suffering help His kingdom? She’s just an old woman who wants to serve Him.”

Dusty, raked the fingers of both hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I’m not saying it will in this case. It may simply be Sophia’s time because her body’s worn out. But you asked about the suffering of people in general, not specifically your grandmother.”

“You’re right. Go on.”

“Sometimes suffering’s because we’ve got to be disciplined, like one of our boys. When those kids are here, they live by strict rules, and when they disobey, they get punished. The discipline that’s rendered is another expression of my love for them. It’s for their good, not because I take pleasure in punishing them.”

“I suppose I can accept that,” she answered softly.

“Sometimes the suffering we endure is a direct result of our own rebellion, and we’re reaping the natural result of our actions. Sometimes God lets us go through stuff so we can use the experience to help others at a later time. And sometimes it happens to strengthen our faith.”

“That doesn’t sound very loving to me.”

“God’s nature is love. That never changes.”

It was her turn to sigh. She looked away from him, staring out the window.

Dusty stood and walked into the parlor where he took a tattered Bible off the bookshelf. Then he returned to the kitchen, sat down, and opened it.

“Let me read what it says here. ‘Dear brothers and sisters, whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything.’ “

He paused, waiting, hoping she would look at him again.

She didn’t.

He closed the Bible. “That’s the best answer I have for you. I could have spent my life asking God why my mom died when I was little, why He took my dad away when I needed him most, why I was such a rotten kid who never showed my dad I loved him, why He allowed my best friend to die because of my reckless behavior, why I had to tramp across the country and go hungry and be cold and do without. But maybe all those things happened so I could do exactly what I’m doing now. Maybe it was so I could make a difference in life instead of just going through it. Maybe it’s because God loved me enough to want me to know Him. To know Jock and Sophia and kids like Billy and Noah and Ted and Hal and Patty.” He reached across the table and covered the back of her hand with
his. “Maybe it’s because He loves me so much He wanted me to know you.”

Her gaze darted back to him, and her eyes widened.

Maybe it’s because He wants me to love you.

Karen stood. “Thanks for explaining what you believe. I … I’ll think on it.” She stepped toward the kitchen doorway. “I think I’ll lie down after all.” She hurried from the room.

Dusty wondered if he’d made a mistake, saying what he had about God wanting the two of them to meet.

Or had his mistake been not telling her he loved her?

Wednesday, April 10, 1940

Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness: thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress; have mercy upon me, and hear my prayer. O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn my glory into shame? how long will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing? But know that the LORD hath set apart him that is godly for himself the LORD will hear when I call unto him. Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put your trust in the LORD. There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? LORD, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased. I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety. (Psalm 4)

Amen

Sunday, June 23, 1940

Dear Diary,

There is a false normalcy in Copenhagen. We go about our daily lives, but we are surrounded by German soldiers. They seek to be friendly, to pretend they are not invaders in this democratic nation. Even I, young and unsophisticated as I am, know better. They are not our friends.

Hannah and Isaac continue to worship at the synagogue, so far undisturbed. But I see the fear in their eyes. The threat is there. We hear rumors of the deportation of Jews. The thought of my friends being imprisoned for the duration of the war is unbearable to me. They have done nothing wrong. Isaac is a tailor, Hannah a mother who tends to her children and her home.

I asked Mikkel why God allowed evil, such as war and the killing of the innocent, to remain on this earth. He said evil is the result of mankind’s corruption of free will. God cannot give us free will to do good, but take away our free will when we choose to do evil. God has spent eternity calling us to Himself, but it is up to us to choose to follow His way, the way of goodness and righteousness.