by Chris Fabry
“It’s okay,” Veronica said. “Sounded like it was important.”
Her voice was as sweet as a honeycomb. And the package wasn’t hard to look at either. She had a seductive smile and a knockout figure. She treated Tony like he was the most important person on the planet, getting him coffee and making time for him in her busy schedule.
“The important thing here is your company getting exactly what it needs from Brightwell Pharmaceuticals,” he said. “On time. Period. Now, where were we?”
She flipped through the papers on her desk. “We have a signed contract, the shipment date, the payment schedule.” She looked up at him and bit her lower lip. “I have your personal cell number so I can contact you anytime I need to. I think we’re good.”
He put both hands on the desk and leaned over the papers but instead looked into her eyes. Veronica was a beautiful woman. And her eyes said something that reached to his core.
“We haven’t talked about you,” he said.
“Me?”
“I’m in sales, of course, but I see part of my work for Brightwell as a coach.”
“A coach?” Veronica said, dipping her head, her eyes twinkling.
Tony sat on the edge of his seat. “It’s my sports background. Everything in life is being part of a team. Getting people to move in the same direction.”
“You mean, everything is a competition?” she said. “Isn’t that what sales is all about? Isn’t that what makes you good at what you do?”
He smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with competition. It actually can bring out the best in a person. You strive to become everything you can be. And as you become the best, you bring others along on that journey.”
Veronica leaned back in her chair, her fingers interlaced under her chin. “Tell me more, Coach Jordan.”
“Well, as a coach, I try to do more listening than talking. I find out the person’s hopes and dreams. For example, how long have you been at Holcomb?”
Veronica told him and offered information about her personal life. He followed up, asking about her romantic relationships. “A gorgeous person like you surely has had some kind of long-term relationship.”
She stifled a smile and blushed. “I’ve had boyfriends, if that’s what you mean. But I’m waiting on the right one to come along.”
“Now that is wise. A lot of people don’t wait for the right one. They jump at the first one who says they love you. You’re an intelligent, wise, beautiful young woman and I see a bright future for you.”
“Does a coach do anything more than butter up his players?”
Tony laughed. “This is not buttering up, this is the truth. But teammates have to have a correct view of themselves. A realistic look at strengths and weaknesses.”
She looked at her watch and crossed her arms. “Hmmm. Sounds like you’re going to need more time to help me discover that. And I have another meeting in ten minutes.”
“There’s so much more we have to talk about,” Tony said. “Why don’t you give me the chance to continue this over dinner?”
Her eyes widened and she smiled. “You want to take me to dinner?”
He nodded. “There’s a lot more to cover. Plus, it’s on me. My service to the cause, and to thank you for being so easy to work with.”
“Coach Jordan, is it a problem that you have a ring on your finger?”
He stared at the wedding band he wore. The only problem was that it was holding him back from really being happy. “My wife and I are having some struggles. In a long line of struggles.”
“Well, maybe I can help you out, then. You know. Be a team player.” Veronica looked at her schedule, then back at him. “All right. Dinner it is.”
When she got home, Elizabeth went straight to her closet and, with resolve, tossed out the bean bag chair, moved her clothes to the spare room closet, then carried the boxes of shoes to the same.
She went to her desk and opened her Bible and Clara’s journal. As she read, she could hear the woman’s voice, her encouragement, her advice.
“There’s no magic in the location you pray. But Scripture does say to go into your inner room and pray in secret, and your heavenly Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. Get rid of any distractions, and focus your heart and mind on Him. Acknowledge that He is God and that you desperately need Him.”
Clara had suggested Elizabeth find several prayers in the Bible and meditate on them. One of the woman’s favorites was the prayer of King David at the end of his life.
“This is something you can memorize and keep going back to time and again,” Clara had said. “If you can’t think of what to pray or you run out of things to thank God for, go to this one.”
The prayer was in 1 Chronicles 29. As Elizabeth wrote the words, she prayed them from her heart.
Yours, Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the splendor and the majesty, for everything in the heavens and on earth belongs to You. Yours, Lord, is the kingdom, and You are exalted as head over all. Riches and honor come from You, and You are the ruler of everything. Power and might are in Your hand, and it is in Your hand to make great and to give strength to all. Now therefore, our God, we give You thanks and praise Your glorious name.
Elizabeth thought that was a great way to start any prayer, reminding herself who God was and immediately praying that to Him.
Clara had also made a point to talk about confession. “Now, be grateful for your blessings, but lift your needs and requests to Him. If you’ve got something to confess, then confess it. Ask Him for forgiveness. Then choose to believe when He says that He loves you and will take care of you.”
Elizabeth began to pray as she wrote and a new thought came. Instead of focusing on all the things Tony had done to wrong her, she wrote down the things she had done to hurt him. Once she began writing, the floodgates opened and the tears flowed and she saw the ways she had fallen short in her own heart. It was a lot easier to remember her husband’s faults. Writing down her own gave her a sense of ownership, that she had to not just recognize the ways she had fallen short, but tell those things to God and ask Him to relieve her of the guilt and shame. She knew she’d have to apologize to Tony at some point too.
The funny thing was, through the tears and all that writing, there came with the exercise a sense of freedom, of relief and release to the discovery.
Clara had said to ask God for the truth. “Discover the truth about God, who He is, how He works, how much He loves. And then you’ll uncover the truth about yourself, your sin, the ways you displease God. The truth about your life is always better to know, even if it hurts.”
So Elizabeth asked God for the truth. She wrote down each true thing that came to her mind. And with each entry she made a request.
“Father, I confess that I have yelled and interrupted my husband so many times. I’ve been so angry at him, and I haven’t really listened. Would You forgive me for my tone of voice and treating him unkindly? And would You create in me a heart that wants to respond to Tony out of love and respect and really wanting to hear him? Would You do that in my heart, Lord?”
“Then pray for the hearts of your husband, your daughter, and anyone else that the Lord brings to your mind,” Clara had said. “And don’t rush it. You take your time. Then you listen.”
Listening to God. What a concept. What a radical thought, to pause long enough to actively listen for God to speak. Elizabeth knew it wasn’t an audible voice she would hear, but that the process of reading the Bible and desiring for God to come alongside her would yield good things. That’s what Clara had said, and the woman seemed to know what she was talking about.
She prepared three pieces of paper for the wall of her closet: one for Tony, one for Danielle, and one for herself. On Tony’s she listed prayers for his work, his role as a father and as a husband, for his friendships, and for his heart. She asked that God would bring someone into his life who would tell him the truth.
Unite us in marriage, Father, and unite us as
parents to do the very best thing for our daughter. Don’t let the enemy tear us apart. Whatever You have to do in order to break me and him of our dependence on ourselves, would You make that happen? Would You bring us together in a way that causes us to cling to You no matter what? Bring us together so we can give You glory, just like Clara said.
She sat back and looked at what she had just written. Did she really mean that? Was she really ready to surrender? It looked good on paper, but how would it work in the real world?
And would it work? Would Tony respond? A little doubt crept in. Was she doing this just because some old woman had held out hope like a carrot on a string? Or was the feeling coming over her real? If Tony didn’t change, if things got worse, would she stop believing? Stop praying?
She looked at the section of Clara’s journal that held verses about doubt. One from Hebrews 11 stuck out to her, and she copied it down.
Without faith it is impossible to please God, for the one who draws near to Him must believe that He exists and rewards those who seek Him.
She closed her eyes and lifted her voice, whispering to the ceiling, “God, I want to have faith. I do believe You exist. I believe You reward people who seek You sincerely. And that’s what I’m doing. With everything in me, I want to know You. And I ask You right now to give me the kind of faith I need to be the wife, the mother, the person You want me to be. Thank You that You answer cries of the heart like this. I want to do like Miss Clara says—I want to surrender every part of me to Your will, to Your kindness and mercy and grace. Put a spotlight on the areas where I’ve never given You control. And thank You for bringing this woman into my life. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
It felt like a victory. It felt like movement toward God and toward her family. It felt like Elizabeth was becoming whole instead of fractured in little pieces. And she began to see the ways God had already worked in her life. He had given her a family, and she rarely thanked Him for that. God had given her a job she enjoyed. The feeling of fulfillment when a family moved into their own home was amazing, and she thanked Him for the chance to make a living helping others. She thought of Mandy and Lisa in the office and clients who had been kind. She should start a page for them. Then she thought of the clients who had stiffed her. What would she do with the anger and hurt and resentment she felt for them? Well, God would have to deal with her on those people, and she was willing to open that door, as painful as it was.
After dinner with Danielle, Elizabeth returned to her closet and taped the three pages to the wall. As she did, her phone chimed with a text message. How was she going to handle the distraction of the phone with this new prayer life of hers? She figured Clara would tell her to silence it and check it afterward.
She glanced at the message and saw it was from her friend Missy. She had texted Elizabeth before about new shops in town. But this message said: Liz, this is Missy. I’m in Raleigh. Just saw Tony in a restaurant with a woman I didn’t recognize. Somebody you know?
Elizabeth’s heart stopped. She stared at the message, reading it again. Maybe her fears about Tony were true. Maybe the look he gave the girl in church was nothing compared to what he was doing on the road. Her legs felt wobbly, and she leaned against the shelf. She held the phone to her heart. It felt like a punch in the gut, all the air going out of her lungs and her mind spinning, like spiritual vertigo. She tried to gain her balance, tried to stop her mind from racing with possibilities.
While she had been praying for her husband, praying that God would work in his heart, confessing her own sins to God, Tony had been cheating. Panic rose up in her like a flood. She wanted to call him and tell him she knew exactly what he was doing. She’d seen the way some women retaliated, ruining lives and lashing out in anger, and the thought crossed her mind—she could make his life really uncomfortable. But when she put the phone down, she saw her Bible.
She picked up the leather-bound copy and sank to the floor with her back against the built-in chest of drawers. She stared at nothing, unable to focus, unable to think or breathe. Then she remembered her prayer. She had asked God to give her faith. She had surrendered herself to His keeping. Maybe this was her chance to walk with Him in a place too difficult to walk alone.
With full reliance on a power she knew didn’t come from herself, she looked up and prayed, “God . . . I need You. I know I haven’t prayed like I should. I know that I haven’t followed You like I should. But I need You right now.”
Alone in that closet, in that war room, her heart overflowed and she let the fountain spill at the feet of God Himself.
The restaurant Veronica had suggested was pricey, but Tony thought the atmosphere was perfect. And so was she. She had worn a white, satiny dress and her hair fell over her shoulders. She was like a vision, her face lighting up the room. Though the place was crowded, it felt like it was just the two of them.
He smiled at her. “I want to thank you for meeting with me tonight. You’ve gone above and beyond the call.”
“Thanks for suggesting it, Coach,” she said.
He didn’t think of his wife or his daughter. He didn’t think of the promise he had made. Tony was simply in the moment—that was what he had learned about life. You had to be all there wherever you were, whether it was on the basketball court or on a sales call or at a restaurant with a beautiful girl who wasn’t your wife. There was no one here to see him looking at her, and he took all of her in.
Their server arrived, a pretty young woman in her twenties with her hair pulled back. She brought water with lemon slices and said she’d give them a few minutes with the menus.
Veronica looked hers over. “It’s a little expensive, isn’t it?”
“Not for a valuable client,” he said. “And you have to start believing that you’re worth something nice like this.”
“Really?”
“If you don’t believe you’re worth the best, others won’t believe it either,” Tony said. “Try whatever you’d like.”
She glanced up at him and he could tell she was enjoying the attention. He was enjoying the attention too. And the view. There was something about this girl, something about the look in her eyes that signaled desire and intelligence and that she was a person who took what she wanted. She must have interpreted his signals already. Tony was interested in being more than her coach.
They ordered drinks and Tony got an appetizer for the two of them to split. He showed her the best way to eat the shrimp cocktail, pinching the tail so she got all of the meat.
“Are you my food coach too?” Veronica said.
“I’ll be any kind of coach you want,” Tony said, raising his eyebrows.
“That sounds dangerous,” she said.
“Life is dangerous. It’s full of choices. And it’s too short not to enjoy yourself.”
“Is that your philosophy of life? Just enjoy yourself?”
“My philosophy of life is to help others become winners. If you do that, you win too.”
“That’s the Coach Tony rule?”
“Veronica, I see a lot of potential in you. Obviously Holcomb does too, or you wouldn’t have the position you have. And when I see someone with the kind of abilities and intelligence and charm that you have—”
“Charm?” she laughed. “Nobody has told me that in a long time. I thought charm was something for princesses in fairy tales.”
“Charm is this innate quality that few people have. It puts a spell on those around them. It attracts others like bees are attracted to the flowers.”
She took a sip of her drink and licked her lips. “There sure seems to be a lot of buzzing going on around here right now.”
Tony laughed. Something inside tingled and he couldn’t suppress it. Something that felt like it had died long ago was being reborn. And he couldn’t wait to see how the evening progressed.
Elizabeth wrestled with God, with Tony, and with her own heart in the closet. “Lord, I’ve been so angry at Tony. And I am still so angry at him. But I don’t wan
t to lose my marriage. Lord, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m not his judge, You are. But I’m asking You, please.”
She held her hands out in supplication, then balled them into fists. “Please, don’t let him do this. Take over. Please take over. Take my heart and take all this anger. Help him love me again. And help me love him.”
An image flashed through her mind. Tony at dinner. Then Tony in a car with another woman, driving toward a hotel. Was it from God? Was it true? She blinked and pushed the image away.
“If he’s doing something wrong, don’t let him get away with it. Stand in his way. I’m asking You, please, to help me.”
Tears again, and she wanted to shrivel into a ball and roll into a corner. She wanted everything gone, all the conflict in her life, her marriage. Her heart raced, the room pressed in, and she knew the only way forward was with God. But it seemed like such a narrow path ahead.
As she wept, she spoke to God silently. I don’t understand this, Lord. I feel like I’ve come back to You and asked You to help, and now You bring this up. Are You punishing me?
She felt the tears roll down her cheeks. She wanted to bang on the wall and reach out for someone’s hand, but there was no one there.
The truth.
She didn’t hear an audible voice, just an impression in her mind. The truth. She had prayed for the truth about herself, about God. She wanted to deal with truth and not what she could imagine. Clara had said, “The truth about your life is always better to know, even if it hurts.” Wasn’t there something in the Bible about the truth setting you free? She was sure Jesus had said that. It probably didn’t mean knowing the truth about your husband out with another woman—surely that couldn’t set you free—but still, knowing the truth was better than living in the dark. Living with truth was much better than living with what you hoped life was like. Knowing the truth about your diagnosis or bank account or marriage was better than believing something that wasn’t true.
Oh, Lord, I’m scared, Elizabeth prayed. I’m frightened. There’s the truth. But if this message about Tony is right, if he’s seeing someone else and this is where we are, thank You for showing me. As hard as it is to take, thank You for letting me see the truth now rather than finding it out down the road. But I don’t know what to do.
