Seasons Under Heaven

by Beverly LaHaye

  The only color left in his complexion was the sickly gray of his freckles. He didn’t get up anymore, even to go to the bathroom, so they had inserted a catheter. Monitoring his urination made them aware that his kidneys were beginning to lose their function, too.

  The doctors moved Joseph into cardiac intensive care but allowed Brenda to stay with him, since she was able to take some of the burden off the nurses, who had other patients to watch. At night, David would sit with Joseph while Brenda visited with her other children in the waiting room. Taking their cue from their mother, they tried to paint a happy face on their stories about school, but Brenda could see that this crisis had taken its toll.

  The fact that they were close to selling the house didn’t help her spirits, either. One couple had looked at it three times and had assured David that they would be back in touch soon. In all, he had shown the house at least a dozen times. The pressure that put on the kids to keep it spotless was almost cruel, but she knew there was no way around it.

  In her despair, she turned to God for comfort, but found herself praying incessantly for the heart that would save her son. God seemed to be saying “no,” and she couldn’t understand it.

  One Monday morning, Dr. Robinson came into Joseph’s area and asked her to get in touch with David because he needed to meet with both of them. As she called her husband, her heart deflated.

  When Harry and Sylvia came to sit with them during their meeting with Dr. Robinson, Brenda knew that this was going to be the prepare-yourselves speech. She leaned on David as they went in, and trembled as they sat down. Sylvia sat on the other side of her, holding her hand.

  “Brenda, David,” Dr. Robinson began in a soft, gentle, apologetic tone. “I know it doesn’t surprise you to know that Joseph is declining. You saw his blood pressure this morning. You know about his kidney function. We’ve done as much as we can, and we’re going to keep doing it. If his kidneys don’t rebound by tomorrow, we’re going to put him on dialysis. Even as we speak, we’re adjusting his medications. We’re doing everything we can to keep him alive.”

  “But?” David prompted, waiting for what seemed inevitable.

  “But…” The doctor glanced at Harry, who looked very tired, as if he, too, had been losing sleep over Joseph. “But we may not succeed. We’re hoping to get a heart in time. Joseph’s at the top of the list. We could get a match at any time. But if we don’t…I’m afraid there may not be much more we can do for him.”

  Brenda wilted against David.

  “But that Heart Mate was a bridge,” David insisted. “It was supposed to keep him alive…until…”

  “It has its limitations,” Dr. Robinson said. “Most of the time, we have good luck with it. But in Joseph’s case—”

  “The dialysis,” Brenda cut in. “Won’t it help? Won’t it get the poisons out of his body and make his heart work better?”

  “It will filter out some of the toxins,” Harry said. “And it might make him feel better, for a time.”

  “Then we can keep doing it,” she said. “Just as much as we need to.” She looked at David, who still looked stunned. “I don’t care about the cost. We’re selling the house. We can sell our furniture, our cars…anything. If the dialysis can make him feel better, and keep him alive…”

  “It’s his heart,” Dr. Robinson cut in gently. “That’s the main problem. His heart may not make it.”

  Brenda doubled over, covering her face with both hands as she wept into them. Sylvia embraced her and began to weep with her. David sat as still as a statue, staring at the air.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Robinson said. “I don’t want you to give up hope. But I’ve found that it makes it easier when the parents know what to expect. When they have time to prepare themselves.”

  “I can’t prepare myself for this,” David whispered in a thick, broken voice. “I’ll never be prepared.”

  “We’re still praying for a heart,” Sylvia told them. “It’s not over yet. God still hears. His timing is perfect.”

  Brenda didn’t voice the questions swirling in her mind: Why was God waiting when Joseph was so sick? Why was someone so young and bright and innocent so close to death? She tried to remember the last time she’d had a prayer answered, but it seemed so long ago. All of her prayers lately had been about Joseph—or David. None of those prayers had been answered, and now her heart demanded to know why. How long would it take for God to save Joseph?

  “How long?” David asked, still wooden. “If he doesn’t get a heart, how long has he got?”

  Brenda looked up, trying to read the exhaustion and dread on the doctor’s face. “A few days at the most,” he said.

  “A few days?” She collapsed into Sylvia’s arms again, then pulled away and turned to her husband. “Oh, David.” He opened his arms to her and held her as she cried, but he was so rigid, so quiet, that she feared what might be going through his mind.

  It had to be even worse than what was going through hers. Anger, confusion, despair—what were they going to do with all these feelings?

  When they got back to Joseph’s room in ICU, there was no change. David wanted to stay with him, so Brenda went out to the waiting room, where Sylvia was waiting.

  “How is he?” Sylvia asked.

  “Terrible,” she said. “Asleep.”

  “No. I meant David.”

  Brenda shook her head and sat down next to her friend. “David is…stone cold and silent. I can see the anger brewing inside. I think that, for the first time, David wants to believe in God—so he can lash out at Him.” She met Sylvia’s eyes. “I understand that feeling, Sylvia. I’ve been doing a little lashing on my own. Why won’t God answer this prayer? Why won’t He heal my baby?”

  “He will, Brenda. One way or another, He will.” She breathed a deep sigh. “I’ve asked Him the same questions myself over the last few weeks,” she said. “When I’ve been out trying to raise money for Joseph. I’ve asked, ‘Why won’t You send the money they need? Why does it all have to be so hard? Why can’t just part of this turn out right, to encourage them?’”

  “I appreciate all you’ve done,” Brenda said, wiping her eyes. “I know that your efforts, and Cathy’s and Tory’s, are going to make such a difference. I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not what I was getting at,” Sylvia said. “Brenda, when I’ve prayed those things, the Lord has reminded me that things are working out. Let’s not forget the answered prayers, the blessings…”

  Brenda closed her eyes and tried to think of what those blessings were. “Blessings. Let’s see…”

  “How about Dr. Robinson? Hasn’t he been a good doctor?”

  “Yes. And Harry. He’s been a huge blessing. And so have you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “What else?”

  “The time with Joseph. Every minute. When he’s been awake, we’ve talked and played games…I’ve never had time alone with Joseph. He’s always had three siblings competing for his time. It’s been good.”

  “Anything else?”

  Brenda thought for a moment, then a sad smile stole across her face. “You know what this reminds me of? A few months ago, the day of Joseph’s birthday party, when he collapsed for the first time, we sat in the doctor’s office and played a game. He had to pretend he had a million dollars and spend every cent. The things he came up with were so sweet.”

  Sylvia’s eyes lit up. “Then pretend you can have a million blessings—anything you want. What would they be? Just think of the snapshots of those blessings.”

  “A heart for Joseph,” she said without thinking. “One that works.” She paused. “Snapshots. Joseph on his bicycle. Joseph hugging the dog. A family portrait when the kids are grown—all four of them, not just three.” Her gaze lowered, and she tried to think of more. “But if he dies, those snapshots will be so different.”

  “What will they be?” Sylvia asked, taking her hands and making her look at her. �
��Not the loss, the sorrow—what’s the blessing?”

  Brenda paused, forcing her mind by sheer power of will to see her situation from a different angle. “Reunion,” she said finally. “In heaven. When I get there, and Joseph comes running, with Jesus right behind him. And the love he’s brought to our lives, that you can’t put in a snapshot, but it’s there, in our family. It won’t ever die. That will be one of the blessings.”

  “And the friends who’ve been praying for you and loving you,” Sylvia said. “Hasn’t that meant something?”

  “Yes,” Brenda said. “It has. I just…I want them to see that God does still answer prayer.”

  “Don’t you think He does?”

  She wasn’t sure. “It’s just like I’ve told you before. I want this to be answered a certain way. But I know God may have another plan. And I don’t want Joseph to suffer. I want to put him into God’s hands. I just don’t know how.” She broke down, and Sylvia hugged her again. “Pray for me, Sylvia. Pray that I’ll be able to lay Joseph in God’s arms, and trust Him to do the perfect thing. Even if it hurts me. Even if it hurts all of us. Right now, I feel like if I lose my focus, Joseph will die. If I close my eyes and sleep, he’ll slip away. If I go downstairs to eat, he won’t be there when I get back.” She got to her feet. “Even now, it makes me crazy sitting out here, knowing that he could breathe his last breath. I feel like his living depends on something I can do. But in my heart, I know better. Pray that I’ll trust God about Joseph, Sylvia. Pray that I’ll have enough faith to let go.”

  “I have been all along, sweetheart,” Sylvia said. “And I think that prayer is being answered as we speak.”

  CHAPTER

  Thirty-Seven

  The urgency surrounding Joseph’s heart transplant became more apparent to Cathy each time she visited him that week. It was clear that he was running out of time.

  On Thursday, Cathy came home from the hospital more depressed than she’d been all week. Annie was sulking in front of the television, unable to leave the house or talk on the phone since the stunt she’d pulled at the restaurant. Cathy had threatened to keep her from getting her driver’s permit if she was disobedient during her punishment, and that had worked. Annie hadn’t made any more surprise disappearances.

  The phone rang as Cathy searched the refrigerator for something quick to cook for dinner. Annie leaped for it. “Hello?” she almost shouted. Cathy gathered from her scowl that it wasn’t for her. Rolling her eyes, Annie shoved the phone toward her mother.

  Cathy froze for a moment. “Is it Brenda?”

  “No,” Annie said. “Some guy.” She looked up as Cathy took the phone. “Why? Is Joseph worse?”

  “He’s real bad,” Cathy said. She thought of getting Annie to take a message, but the thought crossed her mind that it might be Steve. She hadn’t heard from him since their lunch Sunday, and didn’t really expect to. Still, she didn’t want to take the chance of missing his call. “Hello?” she said.

  “Cathy? This is Steve.”

  Her spirits instantly inflated again. “Hi.”

  “Hi. Listen, it sounds kind of busy there…”

  She reached for the remote control and turned down the television, then took the cordless phone into the dining room. “No, no. Not at all.”

  “Well, I won’t keep you, right here at supper time. I just wanted to see if you’d like to have dinner tomorrow night.”

  She was so stunned that she almost couldn’t answer. “I can’t believe you’d ask me again after being around my kids.”

  He laughed. “I’m not inviting them.”

  “Still…I thought I’d heard the last of you.”

  His laughter faded, and there was a moment of silence. “I meant to call before now. I just…didn’t.”

  She didn’t tell him that she’d noticed, or that she’d had at least two depressing, miserable nights hoping he would. It had taken all week for her to get philosophical about it. “It’s okay. I’ve been busy, anyway. I didn’t know if you had or not.”

  “Sometimes…” His voice faded off. She frowned, wondering what he was going to say. “Sometimes dating seems too complicated,” he went on. “I start to worry about Tracy’s reaction, and I think about all the potential problems…”

  She swallowed, but tried to keep her voice light. “Hey, it’s not like we’re walking down the aisle together. Just two friends having dinner. Without their kids.”

  He laughed again. “So—Tracy will be spending the night at her grandmother’s tomorrow night.”

  “My kids’ll be at their dad’s.”

  “Then tomorrow sounds good.”

  But by the next evening, Cathy’s spirits were lower than they’d been all week. She was looking forward to her dinner with Steve, but she had talked with Sylvia on the phone that afternoon about Joseph’s plight, and the news wasn’t good.

  Steve arrived exactly on time, and she tried not to look too eager as she let him in. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  There was a chemistry between them, an electric spark that she hadn’t felt in years. She liked being around him. His very presence made her feel better. “I’m almost ready,” she said. “Just let me get my sweater.”

  “Sure,” he told her. “No hurry.”

  She ran to get her cardigan, then hurried back to the front room. He took it out of her hands and helped her put it on. “So how’s Joseph?” he asked.

  “Not well,” she said. “I’m starting to think he may not make it until he gets a heart.”

  Steve’s expression mirrored her own concern. “No kidding.”

  “Yeah, it’s getting pretty bad. I don’t know how Brenda does it. She reads to him, sings to him, talks and tries to play with him. But he just lies there, too weak to do anything.”

  “What’s your friend next door saying? The doctor?”

  “They don’t give him much time,” she said.

  His expression collapsed, and he sank onto her couch. “Wow. I didn’t expect that. Guess I thought that, with all the success at the fair and all the money we raised, he’d have to get better. Stupid thinking, I guess.”

  “I had the same idea. It just seemed like everything was working out.” She got her purse and looked down at him. “So where are you taking me?”

  He thought for a moment. “Well, I was thinking of some place where we could get some good seafood, but…” He hesitated.

  “But what?”

  He got back to his feet and met her eyes. “Cathy, I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but I had this idea this afternoon…”

  “What?”

  “Well, I was thinking we could go to Kinko’s and print up some flyers about Joseph. Get about a thousand run off, and then go to the coliseum where they’re having that big gospel thing tonight, and we could go around and put the flyers on the car windows asking for prayers and donations. I mean, if they don’t send any money, we need the prayers even more.”

  She gazed at him for a moment, moved to tears. “You’re right.”

  “Does that sound like a good idea, or would you rather go eat steak?”

  She laughed. “How can I say no? Steve, it sounds like a wonderful idea.”

  “The restaurant will still be open when we finish,” he said. “We’ll miss the movie, but I don’t care about that if you don’t.”

  She could hardly speak. As they walked out to his car, she prayed silently that God wouldn’t let her fall head over heels for this man unless it was part of the plan.

  CHAPTER

  Thirty-Eight

  The home video of the Dodd kids singing a song for Joseph played across the hospital television screen. Brenda watched Joseph staring at the screen with dull eyes. The videos weren’t cheering him anymore, and she wondered if he had the energy to smile. The song ended, and the video camera began recording the supper table conversation. They had set the tripod in Joseph’s place, so it would seem as if he was there, listening to the idle chitchat and the family b
antering.

  On the video, David looked tired, bedraggled. She knew he’d been taking in more work than he could handle and working around the clock to get it all done. He was a proud man who didn’t want to depend on donations to pay for his son’s medical bills, if there was any possibility of his paying them off himself. Often, his days were interrupted by real estate prospects wanting to view their house. At night, he spent as much time as he could at the hospital with Brenda and Joseph, while Sylvia sat with the kids. She saw the despair on his face as he ate, and she wished there was something she could do about it. But she was as helpless to make things better for David as she was to help Joseph.

  “You want me to turn the video off, honey?” she asked her son.

  For a moment, Joseph didn’t answer, then finally, in a voice just above a whisper, he said, “No, I like it.”

  She turned on the bed so that she was facing him, and gazed down into his pale little face. “What’s wrong, honey? You seem kind of sad today.”

  He looked up at her and tears filled his eyes. “Mama, if I die, how long before you’ll come to heaven?”

  A cold hand gripped her heart. In all the books she’d read on parenting and homeschooling, she’d never seen advice on answering this question. “You’re not going to die.”

  “But if I do. How long?”

  She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I can’t say for sure,” she whispered. “But I bet it’ll just be a blink of an eye. Time passes differently in heaven, you know.”

  He nodded pensively and looked back at the television screen. “You think Daddy’ll ever get there?”

  She turned her head back to the screen so Joseph wouldn’t see her tears. The video showed David piddling in the kitchen, chattering with the kids, talking to Joseph every now and then as if he was at the table with them. “Honey, I pray every day for your daddy,” she said. “Something’s going to get through to him one of these days. I know it is.”