by Pat Simmons
I thought my life would change for the good when I surrendered my will to Christ, but it’s the opposite. I want God to rescue me! In my condition, I feel ugly and unclean. I’m used to the girly stuff—perfumes and scented lotions, which I can’t use now. I’m wondering if my hair will fall out…
* * *
Nicholas was scared. Not spiritually fearful but emotionally. A couple of days had passed, and he had yet to purchase a journal—a notebook for him so he and Rachel could exchange thoughts.
How was he going to do this? Nicholas was supposed to be her rock. To disclose his insecurities about her illness would crush her. Nicholas knew he could write anything, but she had asked for a heart-to-heart.
The next day at work, he realized he didn’t have to buy a notebook; there were plenty in the bottom of a file cabinet that was recently cleaned out in a vacant office. Nicholas picked one from the stack, swallowed, and stared at it as if he had never seen or used one before.
Hours later, he took the notebook home with him where it remained untouched. He secretly hoped Rachel had forgotten about it, because she hadn’t mentioned it again. “Now who is the hypocrite?” he asked himself. Nicholas huffed as he worked out on his treadmill in the spare room. He realized it was fear that was keeping him from being honest with himself.
There was that word again—fear. Where was his faith? After checking on Rachel for the night, he clicked off ESPN and sat at his kitchen table. Nicholas was surprised that once he picked up the pen, his thoughts flowed from his heart.
Dear Lady Rachel,
He smiled, liking the sound of that. He didn’t care that they weren’t royalty, or she wasn’t a pastor’s wife; it was the pedestal he gently placed her on.
I selfishly want you to live, but I’m scared that it may not be God’s will, and that shakes my faith. I understand your fear, because I’m experiencing it too. I think I have a good relationship with Jesus, and He has revealed many things to me over the years. As a matter of fact, I felt I was there to minister to you while your aunt was alive, that you were going to need it. At the time, I didn’t know it would involve your own sickness and not your aunt’s.
I’m not angry at God, but I feel cheated that you were cheated. And honestly, if your life ends, my life will cease without you in it…
Nicholas stared at the words through the tears built up in his eyes. It was a confession that he hadn’t planned to make, but she wanted to know what was in his heart. Maybe now she would see that he did feel her pain. He hoped this exercise would be a part of her healing—and his own too.
* * *
Days before Rachel was scheduled for another treatment, she wanted to read Nicholas’s journal. “Sure, babe,” he had told her earlier, so later that evening, he stopped to visit before Clara left for home.
Rachel eagerly met him at the door with a smile. His heart warmed seeing her spirits lifted. “Thank you for suggesting this and doing this with me.” Her eyes sparkled as she stepped back and allowed him entry.
“Hi, Minister Adams,” Clara said as she straightened the kitchen. “I made a pot of coffee. I know it’s late, but Rachel had a craving, so I didn’t hesitate.”
“You did right. Thank you.” So what if a cup would keep both of them up all night? He chuckled to himself. Maybe her taste buds were adjusting.
He kissed her head and asked how she felt and what else she’d eaten as he sat on the sofa and waited for her to join him. Rachel kept eyeing his notebook as if she were about to steal it.
“Enough stalling, Nicholas. I’m ready to read your thoughts,” she said in an antsy manner as Clara placed cups of coffee in front of both of them.
Nicholas laughed and handed over his notebook as she placed her journal in his open hand. Side by side, they made themselves comfortable. Rachel counted to three, and they opened to the first pages in unison.
She had three long entries to his two short ones. Nicholas could feel her emotions lift off the pages. He was sipping coffee when it turned bitter and his heart dropped. He had to keep his composure.
Nicholas, knowing that you have immeasurable faith in God comforts me while my faith is leaving me. Thankfully, you’re a call or text away for me to extract some of your strength and to increase my faith, to believe like you believe that God is going to heal me…
Uh-oh. He swallowed. Surely, she had read by now that wasn’t the case. When Rachel sniffed, he had to look at her, and the hurt in her eyes seemed to burn a hole in his heart.
“So you do think I’m going to die?” Her lips trembled, and her eyes watered. “You don’t have enough faith either?” Then the dam broke, and she became inconsolable.
He tried to wrap his arms around her shoulders as her hands covered her face to hide her tears.
“I’m sorry.” His participation had been a bad idea. His honesty had hurt her. He silently prayed, God, grant me Your wisdom. Help me to fix this.
Clara hurried into the living room. “Is everything all right?”
Nicholas nodded as Rachel shook her head and said, “No!”
“I got this,” he assured the aide and waved her off.
“No, Nicholas, I want you to leave!” She uncovered her face. The agony was tangible. “Now, please.”
“Babe, let’s try and work through—”
“Why?” She jumped to her feet. “What’s the point if you don’t believe I’m going to live either?”
“I’m sorry, Minister Adams,” Clara said, coming to Rachel’s side. “Maybe, it would be best to leave so I can get Rachel settled down for the night.”
Nicholas looked from Rachel to Clara before pressing his lips together in frustration. He wanted to tell Clara he wasn’t going anywhere until they could resolve this, but it wasn’t his call. Rachel had spoken.
“All right. Good night. Please call me if you need me.” He snatched the notebook from the sofa so as not to leave any evidence behind.
Grabbing his jacket, he headed toward the door, opened it, and kept walking without looking back. The only thing he wanted to write in his journal was You’re going in the trash.
Chapter 30
What happened? Nicholas woke the next morning still trying to process last night at Rachel’s. He had hoped with the dawning of a new day, she would wake with a clear head and a forgiving heart.
Nicholas was losing hope of that as the morning turned into the afternoon at work and Rachel hadn’t responded to the Scripture he’d texted her as he did every morning. His heart sank in guilt. She had to know he wasn’t trying to hurt her. Maybe she thought he was a hypocrite. That would hurt him.
Four thirty couldn’t come fast enough. He felt as if he had worked a twelve-hour shift instead of eight. He was tormented all day. Instead of heading home, he showed up at his brother’s house.
As soon as his sister-in-law opened the door, she knew something was wrong. “Oh no. Is Rachel okay?” She covered her mouth with her trembling hand. Why did tears moisten her eyes before he could even answer?
“Rachel? What happened?” Karl asked, coming to his wife’s side. He was next in line to work himself into a frenzy.
Nicholas slumped his shoulders and twisted his lips in defeat before he answered. “She’s mad at me and put me out.”
Ava exhaled, relieved, then gave him side-eye. “What did you do?”
“Why does it always mean the man did something?” Nicholas frowned.
She folded her arms. “Nicholas Adams?”
Buying himself some time, he broke through their barricade, leaving them standing in the foyer while he wandered through the house, looking for his nephews. Their squeals and excitement replenished the love he felt he’d lost with Rachel.
After the family ate with a lot of tension at the dinner table, Karl sent his sons to their room to play.
Once the coast was clear, Ava put on her game
face. “I’ve fed you without charge, so spill it,” she ordered.
Nicholas rubbed the back of his neck. “What happened was…”
Although they didn’t interrupt him, Karl’s and Ava’s stiff body language revealed whose side they were on.
Karl spoke first when Nicholas finished. “Man, you never,” he said, shaking his head for emphasis, “ever tell a woman something that raw. It’s a trap.”
Ava elbowed her husband and frowned at Nicholas. “It wasn’t a trap! She asked for honesty and you gave it to her, but…” He leaned closer as she lowered her voice. “You really don’t believe God’s going to heal her, so worried that it’s shaken your faith? That is scary.”
Nicholas threw up his arms in frustration. “I never said that. Listen, am I scared? Yes. Am I praying? Absolutely. Do I want God’s favor because I love her?” He paused in his self-defense. “More than anything.” Lord, please help my unbelief.
“Brother-in-law, Rachel is going through something we have never experienced in our families. She’s probably having some overwhelming mood swings going on right now. Me?” She patted her chest. “I’d be hysterical. One thing for sure, I would want Karl right there beside me, and we would be afraid together until the Lord strengthens our faith to cast out the fear.” His brother leaned over and kissed his wife’s lips, and she rewarded him with a grin. “This is Rachel’s fear and frustration talking, so don’t take it personally.”
“Too late. When a woman puts a man out of her house, it’s very personal. I can’t believe we had a fight.” Maybe it wasn’t a fight. Nicholas frowned, still stunned and wounded.
“First time for everything, because I’m about to put you out of my house so I can spend time with my wife.” Karl wiggled his brows. “We’ll keep praying that God will give Rachel mental strength and you too. Now, bye, Bro.” He stood up, which was Nicholas’s cue to head toward the door.
* * *
“He said what?” Jacqui practically roared through the phone the next day as Rachel left nothing out about what was in Nicholas’s notebook.
Rachel’s mind had seemed to take a snapshot: “But I’m scared that it may not be God’s will, and that shakes my faith.”
If the man who loved her, the man who was a minister, and the man who prayed for the sick didn’t have faith, then Rachel could be as good as dead. “It hurt me so bad, Jac,” she choked out as tears reappeared for the countless time of the day.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Read your Bible, take a nap or something, just calm down. I’ll leave work early and spend the night.”
“Okay,” Rachel whispered and opted for the nap as the something.
That evening, Jacqui used her key to let herself into Rachel’s condo. She waltzed in with the flair and confidence they’d shared at one time. Her friend’s smile turned to horror as she looked at Rachel. Even Sweet Pepper and Shelby, who had stayed with her friend after Rachel’s most recent treatment, seemed to stop wagging their tails.
“Oh no.” She rushed to Rachel’s side and gathered the clump of hair she was holding.
Rachel stared ahead. She couldn’t bear to look at her hair, which was at least twenty inches in length. She felt numb. “It happened,” she whispered, still in disbelief. Since her hair hadn’t fallen out right away, Rachel had hoped it wouldn’t. The delay was yet another false sense of security, and this came right after the insecurity from Nicholas’s thoughts.
“I used the bathroom. After I washed my hands, I ran my fingers through my hair… If you touch it, the rest will probably come out.” Rachel flopped in a nearby chair. “My oncologist said my body was responding to the chemo, and it seems to be working. Hooray, I thought, then he dropped the bombshell that he was adding radiation treatment to be sure.” He had also advised the radiation could cause some disfiguration to the affected breast.
She didn’t know how long she rambled, but Jacqui listened as she walked into Rachel’s bathroom and retrieved a comb. In slow, steady strokes, she combed Rachel’s hair until she could feel the teeth scraping her scalp. There was very little left, so her friend took a pair of scissors and clipped the remaining stubborn strands.
“It’ll grow back.” Jacqui leaned over and kissed Rachel’s cheek. “But this…” She glanced at Rachel’s long, loose hair that was now gathered into a ponytail. “I’ll see if we can donate it to Locks of Love.”
She no longer looked like a human being but a skinned cat, a creature from a sci-fi movie, or worse. “Why am I beginning to hate myself? Am I crazy?”
“No, you’re scared, angry, and confused.” Jacqui sat and faced her. “Listen to me. I know this is scary. Hopefully, this nightmare will be over soon, and something good will come out of this.”
“What?” She begged her friend to tell her something.
“Don’t know, but I believe.” She shook her head with a sad expression. “I don’t know what God’s plan is, but He knows your suffering.”
Rachel hugged her friend, wishing Nicholas had said those exact words.
“Have you eaten?” Jacqui asked as she wrapped Rachel’s loose hair in a rubber band.
“I was thinking about eating until this happened.” She rubbed her bald head. She always thought bald men had smooth heads. Now that she was bald, her scalp felt uneven.
Jacqui squatted so she was eye level with Rachel. “I’ll cook you something light, then we’re going to talk about your Nicholas, because he is yours.”
Within twenty minutes, Jacqui set a small portion of grilled chicken strips with stir-fry veggies and rice in front of Rachel with a tall glass of apple juice. Next, Jacqui retrieved Rachel’s bottles of medicine from the bathroom.
“Is Clara staying on top of making sure you take your drugs?”
“Yep.”
Taking a seat across from Rachel, Jacqui tapped on the table. “Now, ask for the blessing so we both can eat.”
After giving thanks for her food, Rachel sampled a few bites, then reached for her glass to wash it down.
Jacqui didn’t waste time to speak her mind. “Now, you’re mad at Nicholas for telling you the truth? If you were to ask me the truth, you’d learn how scared I am that my best friend could be taken away from me, and your sisters would probably say the same thing.” Her eyes filled with tears. “But we’re all praying for you, and we have to believe. So are you mad at me now and want to put me out like you did Nicholas? Put me out and I’m taking the dogs with me.”
Rachel laughed at her friend’s silliness and mumbled, “No,” as she picked at her food until Jacqui grabbed her fork out of Rachel’s hand, clearly annoyed.
“Open,” Jacqui ordered, then scooped up some vegetables and gently fed them to Rachel, mindful of any mouth sores. “Chew.” She gave her side-eye. “If you lose any more weight, then I’ll look fat.”
“Fat?” Rachel chuckled. “Size fourteen isn’t fat—please. Plus, full-figured women have no shortage of getting a man’s attention.” She paused and looked at her own body. Rachel’s size ten clothes were starting to hang so loosely on her, she was becoming self-conscious about her weight.
“I still don’t understand why you came down so hard on Nicholas.” Jacqui coaxed Rachel to accept another mouthful.
“How do you expect…” She paused and swallowed. “How do you expect me to talk after you shoved all this food in my mouth?”
“Multitask.” Jacqui shrugged and swapped Rachel’s fork for hers so she could eat her own cooking. A couple more times, she threatened to take the fork again, so Rachel kept a steady grip on her utensil.
“It hurt me so bad when I read that he was scared. He’s supposed to have faith big enough for both of us. What hope do I have if he doesn’t have any?” She rubbed her face, then reached for her hair to twist a strand around her finger—gone.
Jacqui said, “You have to have your own faith, Rachel. You once told me
that Nicholas told you that our faith impresses God.”
Rachel had embraced faith in God wholeheartedly, so how could this cancer have happened to her? She was feeling like a victim.
Her shoulders slumped. “I’m losing everything. My mind could be next,” she said sadly, then pushed away her plate. She had eaten half of her portion. “I’m tired now. I think I’m going to lie down and read my Bible.”
“Good idea,” Jacqui said, standing to gather the dishes.
* * *
In the middle of the night, Rachel woke to relieve herself. She didn’t know what time it was, only that she’d fallen asleep while reading her Bible. She turned on the light in the bathroom and muffled a scream at her reflection. She had lost weight, and her skin looked dry despite the lotion she constantly applied, but it was the hairless woman who stared back that startled Rachel. She had never looked so horrible.
But you are alive, she thought.
It took a moment for her to contemplate all she had to be grateful for. “Yes, I am.” Rachel nodded and turned away from the mirror. She returned to her bed and didn’t wake again until her phone rang when the sun was shining through her blinds. “Hello.”
“Hey, Little Sister. Kym is on too,” Tabitha said. “Sorry to call early, but we both have crazy busy days, and we wanted to check on you.”
Rachel scooted up in bed. “Well, it happened.”
“What?” the two said in unison.
“My hair.” Rachel rubbed her scalp. “It’s gone. Came out in clumps. Jacqui spent the night and combed the rest out.” She sniffed. “I had hoped I would be spared that, but no.”
“You know it will grow back after your treatments,” Kym said, trying to console her.
