When Darkness Comes

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  “Amy’s on a chair sleeping and Jamie just left the yard with Timmy from next door. Why do we need to pray?” she asked, her own face now reflecting her father’s sober expression.

  He held his cell phone out so she could read her mom’s text.

  “The Stephanie?”

  “The Stephanie.”

  HERE THEY SAT on somewhat equal ground. Stephanie had hoped to rattle her with her unexpected appearance, but the table had been turned. She had to respect the growth in the younger woman before her. Still, Stephanie knew that she had experience and wisdom on her side. Though she wasn’t sure why they might be needed, she had them in ready reserve.

  Smart move on her part to keep everything in public. Does she have an agenda? Is she afraid that I have one? Or did she really just want to talk?

  Their orders arrived after several minutes of very awkward, hardly-casual small talk. As they ate, Stephanie ventured into personal territory.

  “So, tell me about your family, Tara.”

  Tara put a knowing smile on her face and replied, “I’m sure you already know about my family. Tell me about yours instead.”

  Too early to tell if she’s being nasty or just curious, Stephanie thought. But she wasn’t sure how to handle the question, especially in light of what happened between her and Brendan. Don’t use anyone’s name.

  Stephanie decided to take a different tack. “Are you still practicing within the craft?”

  “Too impractical.”

  “Now, Tara, don’t let your naïveté begin to show.”

  TARA WAS FACED with a decision. This verbal sparring could go on indefinitely—or at least until the meal was over—or she could reveal where she stood. She asked her Best Friend to give her wisdom. Holy Spirit, I’m on solid ground with You, but here, before this woman, I’m at a loss. Please, help me know what to do and say.

  He did.

  “Tell me about how happy you are.”

  Stephanie went momentarily rigid. She recovered quickly, though. But Tara saw what God wanted her to see.

  “You are still the little girl, aren’t you? Except now you’re living in a fanciful world where the 6 o’clock news and Oprah guide your life.”

  “Stephanie, you don’t know anything about me,” Tara said with an easy smile. A boldness and confidence rose in her. She knew it was from the Holy Spirit. “You’re making some really big assumptions. None of which are true, by the way. And you didn’t answer me. Or was your silence the answer?”

  Stephanie put down her fork, took up her napkin, and with the mannerism of a woman of high society, wiped the corners of her mouth. Folding the napkin and setting it to the right of her plate, she said, “Tara, our definitions of happiness are at odds, I’m sure. My life is not spent on the pursuit of happiness. It is spent on purpose, on leaving an indelible mark on both society and history. My happiness lies in that. It is a byproduct of my work.”

  “Well said, Stephanie,” Tara responded with appreciation. “A very similar statement could have come from my mouth and would have been just as true about me. You and I are not so different.”

  A sudden, “Ha!” escaped Stephanie’s mouth and caught the attention of some nearby diners.

  Tara explained, “We are both attractive women. We are both confident and we’ve both been beat up a bit by the world. We both have aspirations, dreams that push us forward. We are not satisfied to just sit back and be average like most people in this world. You and I are passionate about what we believe. But there are differences, as well.”

  “GO ON. IF you can,” replied Stephanie. She wasn’t enjoying this meal as much as she thought she would. She was sure that she would have gained the upper hand by now, through intimidation, if nothing else. But before her, in some respects, sat a woman who was every bit her equal. Tara wasn’t the peon that Stephanie had anticipated, or hoped she would be.

  “Steph.” Tara hesitated. “You’re sad. Something terrible is eating at you from within.” Tara paused for a moment. “And … from the outside, as well. You’ve got misgivings about… I don’t know what. But it’s real and it’s deep. You are…” Again a pause. It almost seemed the woman was listening for the right words to say. “… questioning your purpose and your self-worth.”

  Stephanie realized that her breathing was becoming increasingly shallow and fast. Tara’s words had cut to the quick and she couldn’t just sit at the table and expose anything raw. Without a word, she pushed back from the table, grabbed her purse, and made her way to the ladies room.

  Tara sat staring in wonder as Stephanie stood up, grabbed her handbag, and walked quickly to the women’s restroom. She knew that the words that came off her tongue had been directed by the Holy Spirit. Words of Knowledge, the Bible called them.14 She had experienced the gift a time or two before, but not with such great impact.

  Lord, what do I do? Sit here and wait?

  She felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit to follow Stephanie into the bathroom. Tara placed her paper coaster atop her coffee cup, letting their server know that she intended to return to the table. She then grabbed her purse, as well, and followed the path of her former mentor.

  As Tara pushed open the door, she could hear sniffling in one of the three stalls. She took a quick glance below the three doors and found that she and Stephanie were the only occupants in the rest room.

  “Steph, are you all right?”

  “It’s Stephanie. Not Steph,” came the firm reply.

  “I’m sorry. I should not have become so casual. Please, forgive me.”

  “What do you want, Tara? Did you come in here to find out how well your darts landed?”

  “Nothing of the sort. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Well, don’t! I don’t need you in here trying to be my friend. Our history should make it very evident that we aren’t friends. We never were and we never will be. You were a recruit and I was a training instructor. Nothing more.”

  “I know. I never pretended that it was anything beyond that. But I did hold you up on a pedestal.” Tara almost couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, not to mention the emotion that was beginning to bubble up. “You were everything that I wanted to be. You will never know how hard I took it when you cut me loose from your life. I fell hard. I lost all balance and self-confidence.” She heard herself sniffle. God, this can’t be right!

  “Stephanie, part of me wanted to kill myself. My spirit guide was encouraging me to end it all to join him in the Otherealm. But I was determined to prove to you that I was worth something!” A sob escaped her throat. “I needed someone to believe in me. I needed someone to tell me that I wasn’t just a trophy or someone’s whore.”

  STEPHANIE TRIED TO stifle a gasp. What was going on? How could Tara have spoken so precisely what had been hidden within her own heart, the very fears and feelings of worthlessness that she had been dealing with throughout the past two days?

  “What do you know, Tara? What do you know about anything?” Really, Stephanie, that’s your response? “You can’t possibly know what I’m dealing with; what I’m going through…” Before she could put a cap on the toothpaste, the words had been squeezed out, with no way of putting them back in.

  “Stephanie, come out here. Please?”

  Stephanie sensed a word of warning within her. Her own spirit guide was telling her she needed to use caution and flee the situation. She felt exposed and she hated it, but she needed to know just how many of Tara’s assumptions about her emotional state could also be tied to Brendan and the Picti. Was Tara Lawton more of a danger to the Society of Bridei than even Brendan currently perceived?

  STEPHANIE EMERGED FROM the stall, eyes puffy and slightly red. She held a wad of toilet paper that sufficed as tissues.

  Tara’s first inclination was to step back, but she willed herself forward instead. She walked straight up to the woman that she had at one time both emulated and despised. Now a feeling of pity rose, and God was placing wit
hin her a love for Stephanie that she would never have achieved on her own.

  Tara spontaneously held her arms open, thinking to pass on what was starting to burn within her.

  The woman didn’t budge. Tara dropped her arms, feeling somewhat stupid for the display.

  “Tell me how you knew about …” Stephanie trailed off for a moment. “How you knew about my … condition.”

  “I can tell you, Stephanie, but you aren’t going to like the answer. But it will be the truth.”

  Tara could see a mental debate taking place by the movement of her eyes. She was scared, vulnerable.

  “Tell me,” she said again.

  Tara had to trust that God knew what he was doing here. She answered.

  “He loves you, Stephanie. He loves you passionately. He wants to satisfy your heart, your soul, your spirit.”

  “Just tell me!” she spat.

  “God the Father, Stephanie. The Creator of the Universe, the one you call enemy. He wants you as his daughter.”

  Stephanie stood staring at Tara blankly for a moment, then without warning made quickly for the door. Tara followed her out and watched as Stephanie ran as fast as she could through the restaurant and out to her SUV.

  By the time that Tara made her way back to their table, Stephanie was gone.

  Jenna sat on the living room couch, her father at the edge of his recliner, both of them transfixed. Her mom sat next to her describing in detail her encounter with Stephanie. When she finished, Jenna heard the cop in her dad come out. He was primarily concerned with one thing.

  “Did she threaten you in any way?”

  “Not at all. In fact, initially she seemed amused by the fact that I came looking for her at the same time she came looking for me.”

  “Okay, that’s just freaky,” Jenna intoned.

  “That, dear daughter, was the Holy Spirit,” came her mom’s smile-laden response.

  Jenna looked over to her dad. He crossed his arms. His stern facial expression appeared to reflect the serious nature of her mom’s replay of events. Something was definitely weighing on him; she was just wrong about what that could be.

  “Okay, first, I’m glad it all turned out okay,” her dad began, “but, what you did was a huge risk. Why did you think it was okay to haul off without letting us know what you were doing?”

  Her mom tensed. Jenna thought that maybe she should leave the room, and she would … if she were asked. Otherwise…

  “Brent, I’m a big…”

  “… big girl. Yes, I know.” He stopped and just stared.

  “Let’s not make a big deal about this,” her mom said. “Not in front of Jenna.”

  Here it comes. ‘Jenna, will you excuse us for a few minutes?’

  Her dad looked over and said, “This applies to you, too. You ever do anything this stupid and you’ll be grounded for weeks. Understand?”

  Jenna just sat there and nodded.

  “Stupid?” Her mom’s eyes grew intense. “Stupid. So, I’m stupid, now,” she said, with livid matter-of-factness.

  “Don’t,” said her dad holding up a hand. “Don’t even. You are not stupid, but your impetuous decision most certainly was. Tara, going off on your own, while purposely avoiding me and misleading your daughter, makes it clear, don’t you think, that your actions were going to be risky even in your own mind? Otherwise you would have told one of us. Isn’t that right?”

  Jenna could see that her mom was conflicted and apparently didn’t want to resign herself to her dad’s logic.

  “So? I’m not allowed to make decisions for myself now?”

  “Decisions? Yes. Decisions that include your daughter and me knowing your intentions.”

  “I didn’t want either of you to worry!” Her mom was getting loud. “Don’t you get that?!”

  Her dad got up from his chair, walked over, and sat between her mom and her. He softened a little bit. “I do get that, Hon. I know you’re strong-willed, confident, and capable. But wouldn’t you appreciate having all of that backed up with prayer also?”

  Her mom looked down at her hands. Jenna could tell that the wind had been removed from her sails. But her dad was right.

  “And if I had told you where I was going?”

  Her dad took her mom’s hand. “I’d have first told you that I would go with you…”

  “But that wouldn’t have…”

  Her dad interrupted her mom’s interruption. “And if you had said no to that, I would have relented.” He paused before wrapping up with, “Probably.”

  “Really?” questioned her mother, obviously unconvinced.

  “It would have, at the very least, allowed me the opportunity to pray with you and to know where you were going to be. Important information, in my opinion.” He took his hand and turned her face toward his own. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Just in case.” Another pause. “Okay?”

  Her mom looked deeply into her dad’s eyes, and with a slight nod said, “You’re right.” She looked over at Jenna and said, “I’m sorry, Jenna. Will you both forgive me?”

  Jenna could tell the apology wasn’t easy for her mom to make. Accepting the apology, she smiled and nodded, and then her dad gave her mom a quick kiss on the lips.

  I want a relationship like theirs.

  Her dad sat back. “So, now, back to the original conversation. We know Stephanie was caught off guard by your discussion at the restaurant. We don’t know if that’s going to create some misgivings on her part or if it’s going to incite more hatred toward you. One thing’s for sure, though, you’ve been targeted.”

  Jenna looked hard at her dad, then at her mom. Her eyes widened as she asked, “Targeted? Like targeted?” She looked back at her dad. “Is Mom safe?”

  Her dad looked her in the eyes as if pondering the answer to her question. Then he said, “Tell me about your relationship with God, Jenna.”

  Jenna’s eyes went from worried for her mom to utter bewilderment. “What? I don’t get what you’re asking.”

  “You. Jenna. Your personal relationship with God. Tell me about it.”

  A combination of shock and fear bolted through her chest. She thought that her relationship with God was obvious. Or was it that she hoped that her pseudo-relationship with God appeared real? I can get through this.

  “It’s good,” she began hesitantly. “I mean, I love God and I know He loves me.”

  “Great start. Keep going.”

  Jenna looked to her mom for some help. She didn’t know why she thought she’d get any, but it was worth a shot. Her mom looked back at her and cocked her head, as if to say, “I’m waiting, too.”

  Jenna took a deep breath and held it in for a moment, then released it.

  “I go to church with you. I pray. I…”

  “How often?” It was her mom.

  What is going on? Her next words sounded as if they were spoken in slow motion. “Every day?” Even she knew her answer sounded like a question.

  If there was one thing that Jenna knew for sure it was that she wasn’t putting on a very convincing performance. She must have looked like a trapped, scared rabbit, because her dad let her off the hook.

  Sort of.

  “Honey, for a lot of people God is a wonderful person to have around when they want something. But when the rubber meets the road, as is the case now in our lives, people who don’t have a trust relationship with the Lord begin to panic. Panic prayers get prayed rather than prayers of faith. They’re not confident that God’s heart toward them is truly good. They may start believing that the bad things befalling them are coming from God; maybe because they weren’t living up to what He wanted. The end result is that these people end up getting angry with God or they get consumed with guilt because they believe that they’ve disappointed God to the point that He no longer cares about them. Possibly both. Does that make sense?”

  Jenna looked down at her hands, now folded and in her lap. “So, you’re saying that if weird things start to happen or if
something bad happens, then I may not have the faith to handle it right. Right?”

  Her dad nodded and smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. So, Jenna, how is your relationship with the Lord?”

  “Not great.” No one said anything, and she didn’t want to look up. The silence made her start talking again just to relieve the tension. “But you don’t understand. I don’t want to be a freak to my friends.”

  She looked over at her mom who gave her a look of understanding and asked, “Do you know Brinn?”

  Her mom nodded.

  “Brinn is a Jesus freak. She’s so not popular because of it. It’s like she doesn’t care that people make fun of her. I can’t be like that.” Jenna’s heart began to break. She understood in that moment that she had denied Jesus just so that she could remain part of the “in” crowd.

  Her mom saw the realization in her eyes. Again, Jenna lowered her head and this time began to weep. I’m horrible, God! I so deserve you not loving me anymore. Within seconds her weeping became anguish and she folded herself into her mother’s arms. She knew she had failed God and that she had also failed her family.

  TO TARA THESE were the special moments of being a mother; the life situations in which the title ‘Mom’ were most endearing. Her daughter had just bared her soul, and truth had cut her open, causing her to see within herself. The result was a lovely girl who loathed what she had seen. What she didn’t realize, though, was that she was simply feeling conviction; a means that the Holy Spirit uses to draw a wayward soul back into the Lord’s presence.

  Tara held her daughter close to her chest and looked up at her husband who had bowed his head in prayer. She silently spoke to the Lord, as well. God, I love my family. Thank you so very much.

  After allowing Jenna to grieve for a minute or two, Tara began to soothe her.

  “Shh… Jenna, It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” Jenna pieced together between whimpers.

  “Yes, baby it is. Do you know why?”