To Heal A Heart (Love Inspired)

by Arlene James

  “Hold on to that, dear heart. Don’t let him go, for if you do, you also let me go, and how can I bear that? To lose you as well as him is more, surely, than God can allow, so I beg you, please don’t leave. I need you. We all need you. How he would hate it if he thought that his loss would tear this family apart!

  “Whatever you do, please know that I love you. I don’t blame you in any way. You will always be my treasured little sister, not a baby anymore but a woman with so much to offer those who suffer! But you are suffering now. I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize how much. In my sorrow, I selfishly took of your strength. We all did. Perhaps we always have, and your leaving will force us all to rely finally and completely on God alone. If that is so, Pip, then I take back my plea. Go if you must, sweet girl, but come back to us soon. I promise we’ll appreciate you more.

  “If I’ve never told you how proud I am of you, Pip, then let me do so now. We know how hard you worked to save Asia, how hard you work to save all your patients—and how often you are successful! I’m glad for Asia that you were in the room when his spirit departed his body. He deserved the best, and that’s what he, we, always got, always will have, with you.

  “So if you must go, go with God, and know that the love and prayers of your family are with you, too. That includes Asia, I am sure, and how I praise God for it! And for you.

  “In Him, your loving brother,”

  It was signed “Gordo.”

  Piper let the letter fall to her lap and reached for her brother with both arms. How could she have hidden herself away from such love? He didn’t blame her. He had always trusted, had always understood, that she had tried her best for Asia, even when she hadn’t known that it was him on that gurney.

  Why had she believed she had lost everything? In reality she had lost only one member of her family and only for the remainder of her time here on earth. It was no small thing, to lose that time with a loved one, and yet the promise of reunification in heaven was real, as real as the brother she held in her arms, as real as the man who, in obedience to his personal mission and God’s will, was bringing love back into her life when she would have banished it forever.

  Looking up at Mitch, she reached out one hand and tried to tell him with her grip that she understood now, or at least that she was starting to understand.

  “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly. “Thank you.”

  He just smiled and bowed his head. Piper and Gordon naturally followed suit, and as easily as breathing, they went together to God, for comfort, for forgiveness, for understanding and wisdom, for direction, for peace, but most important of all, in genuine gratitude.

  Mitch had never felt so torn. On one hand, he knew without doubt that he had done the right thing in calling Piper’s brother and forcing the issue. Already the healing had begun. As always, it was a joy to see, but this time the joy was especially bittersweet and the satisfaction had a dark, sharp side to it. In doing what was best for Piper, he might well have dashed his own personal dreams and hopes. Telling himself that God had only his best interests at heart in this, too, helped, but not as much as it should have.

  It was easiest just to keep busy, holding at bay thoughts of the future, and as usual, he found plenty to do. For one thing, the Ninevers deserved to be kept abreast of the situation, and for another, Piper desperately needed to eat. He’d been shocked to see how much weight she’d lost in less than two weeks! Thankfully, when he asked if she’d like him to get in something for dinner, she’d shot him a wan smile and suggested somewhat mischievously, “Pizza?”

  He now had no doubt about her idea of comfort food, at least. Chuckling, he’d left her in the capable hands of her brother, with whom he seemed to share a natural ease, and went out to fulfill her request. He knew exactly how to manage it. After climbing the stairs, he knocked at the door of the Ninevers’ apartment. Melissa opened the door at once.

  “How is she?”

  “Better.”

  “Thank God!”

  Mitch smiled to hear the words tumble so effortlessly from her mouth. “And thank you, too.”

  She waved that away with a flip of her hand. “Does she need anything?”

  “Pizza.”

  Both Scott, who sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, and Melissa seemed momentarily taken aback, but then they began to smile. When Melissa had hit upon the pizza invitation, she’d insisted that she actually intended to feed her friend pizza, so it wasn’t a lie, even if it was a trick.

  “It’ll need warming,” she warned, heading for the kitchen.

  “No problem,” he told her, rocking back on his heels.

  Scott got up and came to lean on the back of the couch. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked.

  Mitch felt his smile fade. “I don’t know for sure.”

  “She’s going back to Houston, isn’t she?” Melissa asked from the dining area, pizza box in hand.

  Mitch found that he had to swallow before he could answer. “She should.” But he couldn’t help hoping that she wouldn’t.

  Nevertheless, when Piper turned to him a couple hours later—after dining quietly on microwaved pizza and seesawing back and forth between uneasy joy and sudden sorrow—with very nearly the same question as Scott, Mitch gave her very nearly the same answer.

  “I know what needs to happen next, Piper.” He saw the trust in her beautiful amber eyes and reached down deep for the will to do what was best for her. “You should go home to Houston and join Gordon and the rest of your family in grief counseling.”

  She bowed her head at that, her hands tucked away beneath the small table around which they sat in her dining area. Mitch glanced at Gordon and saw a wealth of understanding in his serene expression.

  “You’re right,” she said finally, and the tight, brittle sound of her voice perfectly reflected the state of his heart. She sighed and lifted her chin. “You can run from grief, but you can’t hide.”

  He smiled, aching with a growing sense of loss. “It took me three years to learn that lesson.”

  “I don’t know how you managed to cope for three years,” she told him softly. “I’m exhausted after three months.” Her eyes filled with tears again. He knew that they would come unbidden at the drop of a hat for a while. But he wouldn’t be there to dry them for her.

  “You’re not as stubborn as I am,” he said softly, trying—and failing—to lighten the mood.

  “It’s a shame we can’t counsel with you,” Gordon said, but Mitch shook his head.

  “I’m too personally involved.”

  “Yes,” Gordon murmured, “I suspect you are.”

  Mitch looked up, and once more the two men joined in a moment of absolute clarity. Finally Mitch looked away and cleared his throat.

  “You need to get some rest. I should go now.”

  “I suspect tomorrow will be a busy day,” Gordon commented, and Mitch pushed back his chair. Gordon did the same a heartbeat later. For a moment Piper seemed too tired even to try to get up from the table, but then she straightened her shoulders and rose.

  Mitch selfishly let her walk him to the door. It was only feet away. Still, she had weathered a great emotional storm that evening and it wasn’t over yet, though he suspected, prayed for her sake, that the worst had passed. They paused together.

  “Mitch,” she began, shaking her head, “I don’t know how to—”

  “Hush,” he interrupted, knowing her thanks would be misplaced. “You just concentrate on yourself and your family for now. God will take care of everything else, especially me.”

  “Will you stay in touch with Melissa and Scott?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll see them every Sunday, at least. Scott says they’ll be joining church soon.”

  At that she closed her eyes, hands clasped against her chest. “I’m so glad.”

  “You see, good has already come of this.”

  She smiled through her tears. “It has, hasn’t it?”

  He nodded and heard himse
lf promise, “The best is yet to come. You’ll see.”

  “Will I?” she asked. Then, before he could answer, “Will you?”

  He knew what she was asking, but he wasn’t sure how to answer. His own fear was that his part in her life was finished. Now that he had accomplished his purpose, his mission, he had no more excuse to remain close to her. Gordon was right about God having a reason for all that He allowed into the lives of His children, but Mitch knew that he was correct when he’d told them both that no one could predict that purpose. Considering the way God had used Piper and her family thus far, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that she would one day soon find herself called to the foreign mission field. With her nursing ability, it seemed a strong possibility to him. It seemed improbable that God would ask the same thing of him, though. He had important work right here in Dallas.

  Finally he managed to say, “We’ll leave that all up to God.”

  For a long moment she stood staring up at him through her tears, supplication evident on her face, but he couldn’t give her the assurances she seemed to want. He couldn’t even assure himself that she would still want them in a few weeks. As if coming to the same conclusion, she bit her lip, nodded and reached out a hand to him.

  He took her into his arms, perhaps for the last time, and held on so tightly that he was sure, once he finally managed to tear himself away, that he would forever carry her imprint on his heart.

  Piper couldn’t quite believe that she was going. Intellectually she knew that Mitch was right when he said she needed to return to Houston and join her family in grief counseling. Yet a part of her no longer recognized Houston as home. Then again, this apartment was not home, either, though she had lived here for months. She knew that without any doubt as she stood in the open doorway surveying it all for the last time.

  Had it been only two days since she’d climbed those stairs expecting pizza, only to find her brother—and healing—waiting for her? She checked her watch. Not even two whole days, as it was only about two o’clock in the afternoon. They would be back in Houston before seven. It seemed impossible that it should be so, yet her bags had been packed and were even now being stowed in the trunk of Gordon’s car.

  Mitch had used his legal expertise to get her out of the apartment lease, citing familial hardship, and the landlord had been kind enough to agree to return her deposit. The rental agency would come around to pick up the furniture soon. She’d resigned her third job in as many months by saying simply that a family death necessitated her immediate return to Houston, and Melissa had agreed to call Hannah at the insurance company and explain in whatever fashion she felt best why Piper had left things there as she had. Piper suspected that the two women would get along well, perhaps even become friends, especially after Melissa had wondered aloud whether she should invite Hannah to church.

  Piper smiled to herself. Good had come of this tragedy, perhaps more than she would ever know. She would never have chosen to meet the Ninevers, Hannah, or even Mitch in this fashion, and she couldn’t with good reason say she had been the agent for any blessing that might have come to any of them through knowing her. Yet good had resulted.

  The Ninevers were in church and growing in their relationship with God. Hannah, and who knew how many others, might well be influenced because of them. Mitch had fulfilled his mission; God had channeled blessing and healing through him as surely as water flowed through a pipe. Apparently even Thai had benefited, harsh as the lesson had been, from what had happened. Only time would tell what the results of that would be, but Gordon seemed to feel that Thai had turned an important corner. If that were so, then in anything that Thai accomplished during his life Asia would have a hand.

  The thought comforted more than it grieved, and that was a good thing, too.

  Only in one regard was Piper unsure. How could she let go of Mitch? Somehow without her even knowing it, he had become her anchor. No, it was more than that.

  Now, when she thought of home, it wasn’t Houston or Dallas or houses or apartments that she thought of; it was Mitch. And yet she couldn’t stay here. She knew that as certainly as she knew her own name.

  Sighing, she closed the apartment door behind her.

  “Is that everything, then?”

  She turned at the sound of Mitch’s voice. He looked very dear standing there—big, strong, handsome. Right. His serene smile both gladdened and worried her. To cover the latter, she adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. Could he really let her go so easily? She pushed the thought aside and answered his question.

  “I think so.”

  “Well, then.” He offered his arm.

  She felt an instant’s letdown, but then she squared her shoulders, disciplined her disquiet and slipped her hand around the curve of his elbow, allowing him to escort her toward the security gate and the front parking area, which was actually closer to the apartment than the residents’ parking lot.

  “It was good of you to come to see us off,” she said after taking a moment to further compose herself. “I know you’re busy.”

  “You didn’t imagine that I would let you leave without saying goodbye, surely. After all, I was the first to welcome you to Dallas. I reserve the right to be the last to let you go home to Houston again.”

  “Houston isn’t home,” she said, echoing the earlier thought.

  “No? Where is, then? You said the same about Thailand once, as I recall.”

  Home is wherever you are, she thought, but she wasn’t brash enough to say it aloud. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, however, for he quickly looked away.

  “Have you seen Melissa and Scott today?” he asked, casually changing the subject.

  She shook her head and targeted her gaze on the path that her feet followed by rote. “I said my goodbyes to them yesterday, and I don’t want to have to do it again.”

  “I understand.”

  Trying to think her way through to any loose ends, she suddenly remembered something. “You never told me about the doctor’s case.”

  “It’s not resolved yet. Any time you get the State Department involved, you can expect a lengthy litigation, but I suspect it will come out all right in the end. Meanwhile, my client’s been offered a job in hospital administration. It’s not what he really should be doing, but at least it’s medicine.”

  “Will you tell him that I’m praying for him?” Piper asked impulsively, and was rewarded with a warm smile.

  “I’ll be glad to. You’re not alone in that, by the way. My mother’s rallied a veritable army of prayer warriors on his behalf, and frankly, Dad was instrumental in getting him that job.”

  “I didn’t expect less,” Piper told him truthfully, but then she stopped and looked up at him. “About your parents, Mitch. I don’t know what you’ve told them.”

  “Everything,” he said flatly. “I always do.” His lips quirked. “Eventually.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I hope they don’t think—”

  “They think their prayers for you have been answered,” he interrupted softly. “Not that they, we, won’t be praying for you in the future. We most assuredly will.”

  She looked up at him helplessly, trying to tell him with her eyes what she dared not put into words. Finally she tried to say what he hadn’t really let her say so far.

  “Mitch, I owe you so much.”

  “Now, now, none of that.”

  “No, please, it’s important that you let me say this.”

  He dropped his gaze, but then he nodded. “All right.”

  “When I first met you,” she began, “I sensed…well, that you were a danger to me, or rather to my very carefully constructed house of cards.”

  “Piper, please believe me,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t,” she hastily assured him, squeezing his arm. “Just the opposite. You saved me from myself.” He was shaking his head, but she pressed the point. “Mitch, I was running blind, and I was headed s
traight for a brick wall, and you were the one person who saw the signs, the one person uniquely qualified to see them.”

  “But that’s just it, honey. God engineered this thing. I didn’t go looking for you. He shoved me right into your path.”

  “I know that, and I’m not diminishing His hand in this, but you were willing, Mitch. You are willing to be used by God. Thank you. Not just for myself but on behalf of all those who are blessed by your willingness to let God work through you.”

  He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He even seemed a little embarrassed by it. She took pity on him. Going up on tiptoe, she wrapped her free arm around him, pulling his head down to hers, and kissed his cheek.

  They stood locked in an awkward embrace for long moments before he whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  Heartened, Piper pulled back in order to search his face, but he wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. “Mitch,” she began urgently, “you once said that you loved me. If you still—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off the flow of words. “This is best, Piper. You have to go with Gordon. You can’t be thinking of anything right now but of getting through to the other side.”

  “The other side?”

  He dropped both hands to her shoulders, cupping the tops of her arms. “Grief is like a deep, dark canyon. You know in the twenty-third Psalm where it talks about the valley of the shadow of death? Well, I think that’s talking about grief, the shadow that falls on us all when someone we love no longer inhabits this world with us. It’s like walking through a dark, scary canyon all alone without any idea where we’re going, but God is always right there with us, and if we just keep going, just keep working our way through, we’ll come out on the other side and once more find that our cups are overflowing with blessings. I’ve done all I can to point you in the right direction, sweetheart. Now it’s up to you to take the hand that God is offering and let Him guide you through to the other side.”