War Room

by Chris Fabry

  She let those words echo in her heart. I don’t know what to do.

  That wasn’t true. She did know what to do. She could pick up right where she had left off on her list. She looked at the words on the pages on the wall and something stood out to her, something Clara had copied down from her Bible.

  A thief comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.

  Tony probably thought that running after another relationship would bring him life. Someone prettier or younger would make him happy. But the truth was it would only lead to death, the death of their marriage. He was probably as tired of all the fighting and bickering as Elizabeth was. How could he buy into that lie?

  She looked at the wall and read the next verse aloud. “‘But the Lord is faithful; He will strengthen and guard you from the evil one.’”

  The Lord is faithful. The Lord will strengthen. He will guard you.

  She focused on those words and her heart felt lighter somehow. God had seen what was happening. He knew her need. And He knew that Tony was headed down a path he’d regret the rest of his life, if what she feared was true.

  She put her hand against the wall and looked at the next verse she had copied.

  Submit to God. But resist the Devil, and he will flee from you.

  She repeated the verse and wiped away her tears as a feeling rushed through her. Call it fire or resolve or determination—no matter the term, it rose up and so did she, finally understanding. If she submitted to God, which she had done, asking Him to take control of her life, then she could resist the devil. She was resisting the urge to move toward anger and bitterness or anything but God Himself, and she was standing up for her husband’s heart, for the life of her family. If those things were true—and by faith she believed they were—the enemy had no recourse. There was only one thing he could do. He had to leave. She wiped at new tears and stood, walking into the living room and staring as if there were unseen forces behind the scenes. She remembered what Clara had said to her before she had ever begun to study with her.

  “I see in you a warrior that needs to be awakened.”

  Now, here Elizabeth stood, fully awake to the battle.

  “I don’t know where you are, devil,” she said loudly, “but I know you can hear me.” She looked at the stone fireplace and the furniture in the room. “You have played with my mind. And had your way long enough. No more! You are done!”

  She walked into the kitchen, lights reflecting on the granite countertop. She glanced back from where she had just come. “Jesus is Lord of this house, and that means there’s no place for you here anymore! So take your lies, your schemes and accusations, and get out! In Jesus’ name!”

  Elizabeth could hear Clara’s voice echoing in her head—the way she would say those words. She opened the back door and walked onto the deck.

  “You can’t have my marriage, you can’t have my daughter, and you sure can’t have my man! This house is under new management, and that means you are out!”

  She walked inside and slammed the door behind her. Then something clicked in her mind and she opened the door again and stepped outside.

  “And another thing! I am so sick of you stealing my joy. But that’s changing too. My joy doesn’t come from my friends, it doesn’t come from my job, it doesn’t even come from my husband. My joy is found in Jesus, and just in case you forgot, He has already defeated you. So go back to hell where you belong and leave my family alone!”

  Elizabeth slammed the door again and it felt like the exclamation point to her proclamation. She was finally taking control. No, that wasn’t the truth. She was getting out of the way and letting God take control. She was going with Him, agreeing with Him instead of her enemy. No longer would she be ruled by fear or by the actions of anyone else.

  As she walked back into the house, she glanced upstairs and saw Danielle looking at her with a puzzled stare. There was no way to explain this change, so she didn’t try. She just kept moving, back to her closet, back to the war room. There was something urgent she had to say, something she needed to do on her knees.

  She got to the closet and knelt, closing the door. “Father, I am asking You now to intercede for me. I don’t know how any of this works. I don’t know if You send angels or if Your Holy Spirit works this way. But I don’t need to know how it works. I need to believe You can do what I’m asking. And I’m asking You in faith to stop my husband from doing something he’s going to regret. Stop him somehow, Lord.

  “If Tony is honoring You, bless him. But if he’s doing something wrong, don’t let him succeed. Stand in his way, Jesus.”

  She let the words drift toward heaven and realized something had changed. Something wonderful and assuring had come over her. It was more than a feeling—it was a deep-rooted conviction that she was no longer going through life alone. God was with her. Maybe He had been there all along and she hadn’t noticed. But He was going to walk with her through all of this. And she couldn’t wait to see what He was about to do.

  CHAPTER 9

  Tony pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with a napkin. The server asked if they’d like dessert and Veronica declined politely.

  “Are you sure?” Tony said. “It’s on me. We could share a crème brûlée.”

  Veronica smiled and shook her head. “I can’t eat another bite. But you go ahead if you want.”

  “We’ll take the check,” Tony said and their server disappeared.

  Veronica leaned forward. “You know what I’d really like right now?”

  “Tell me.”

  “A glass of my favorite wine.”

  “Okay, we can do that,” he said without hesitation. “What is it?”

  “It’s not here. It’s at my apartment.”

  She gave him a look and Tony stared back. He’d thought he would start with dinner, get to know her better, and let things move forward at a measured pace. But her words were clear. She was ready.

  Tony smiled. “Well, if it’s your favorite, I’d like to try it.”

  “I think you’ll like it.”

  The server reappeared and handed Tony the bill. “Here you are, sir. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

  “Thank you,” Veronica said. She glanced at Tony. “We will.”

  He got out his wallet, excited, like a high school kid who’d asked the prettiest girl in school to the prom and she had said yes. Not just to the prom but to the whole night. He couldn’t wait until they got to Veronica’s place. He couldn’t wait to see what happened after a glass of wine.

  Shifting in his seat, he felt his stomach gurgle. And it wasn’t small, it felt like something major—a funny pain he hadn’t experienced since a conference he’d gone to when he’d first joined the company. Several of the group had eaten some rubbery chicken at a banquet and they had all paid the price. But the food he’d just eaten was cooked to perfection. Surely he couldn’t have food poisoning.

  Tony signed the bill and added a generous tip. He thought maybe he was just nervous, butterflies and all that. But as he put his credit card away, it felt like his stomach was about to do a backflip. The room swayed and spun like he was on an amusement park ride or he was looking at one of those sideshow mirrors that made your face too fat or too tall.

  “Veronica, listen,” Tony said, trying to act nonchalant as the pain intensified. “I need a minute, all right? I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him get up. “Okay.”

  He walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Are you really going to go through with this? he thought. There’s a young lady waiting right now to take you home.

  As he looked at his reflection, his mind spinning, an image of Elizabeth flashed for a moment. He blinked, then saw Danielle. The pain in his stomach intensified and he ran water in the sink and splashed it on his face, groaning as he did. The churning heaved and suddenly he couldn’t hold back. He hit the stall door and made it to the toilet jus
t as the gurgle became a geyser.

  Elizabeth was still on her knees, still praying. She couldn’t stop knocking at heaven’s door. There was a burden so heavy on her heart that she couldn’t hold back. It felt like her whole being burned with conviction.

  “Jesus, You are Lord. You can turn Tony’s heart back to You. So whatever it takes, Lord. I trust You.”

  Tonight Elizabeth’s mind didn’t wander like other times in prayer. When she ran out of ways to ask God to reach Tony, she thanked God for things like Missy and her text message. “Lord, what are the odds that she would be at the same place as Tony? That she would see what she saw? You placed her there for a reason, and You let me know this information. I thank You for that and pray You would use it for Tony’s good. I pray that You wouldn’t punish him, if he’s doing something wrong toward me and Danielle, but that You would enable him to make good choices. Help him turn to You. Don’t let the enemy win a victory in his heart. Lord, do whatever You need to do in order to bring him to his senses.”

  There were no guarantees in prayer. She couldn’t know if God would do something miraculous or if He even heard. But by faith she believed God not only heard but was working in Tony’s heart at that very moment.

  Tony had tried to leave the bathroom twice, only to have to retreat and endure another round of stomach clenching and the awful loss of that expensive dinner. He wondered if Veronica could hear him outside because the noise he made was anything but romantic. A man had come in, briefly, and exited when he heard Tony. He couldn’t blame the guy.

  As a child Tony had hated even the idea of throwing up. He’d felt the quiver in his stomach late one night in bed and ran down the hall to get his mother, then ran back to the bathroom, stuck his head out the door, and tossed his cookies on the carpet. That was a story his mother loved to tell, and when Danielle went to see her grandma, she always asked her to repeat it—and she and Elizabeth laughed and laughed. He had to admit it was a funny story, but the idea of getting that sick had terrified him as a child. Even as an adult, he did everything he could to avoid it, and when Danielle was ill, he let Elizabeth care for her in that department.

  Tony came up for air and wiped his eyes. What in the world had happened? One minute he was fine and the next he was violently ill, like a tornado had hit his insides. He glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like he’d gone several rounds with a prizefighter. He washed his face again and let the room stop spinning, then gathered himself and headed to the front of the restaurant.

  Veronica was waiting by the door, a concerned look on her face. “You okay?”

  His stomach did another flip. He needed to get to his car. If he could just get inside and sit, he might be okay.

  “Veronica, I’m sorry, but I need to go back to my hotel room.”

  “Well, I can go with you.”

  “No, I mean, I’m not feeling well. I need to go lay down.”

  She gave him a pouty look. “Baby, I can take care of you.”

  If she’d heard him in the restroom, she wouldn’t have been so keen to follow.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll call you later. But I need to go.”

  Tony walked outside slowly, the pavement spinning beneath him. He had to close his eyes as he neared the car and take a deep breath. He looked back at Veronica. She was heading to her car looking hurt and confused.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure how long she had been in her closet, but there came a point where she felt her job was done. She wanted to call Tony or text him and ask him who he was with. She wanted to call his hotel, if she could track it down, and see if they’d send someone to knock on his door.

  Maybe just a text, she thought. Something like Praying for you. No, that would just be telling him she was checking up. She wanted to rely on God fully. And she wouldn’t worry about this the whole night. She was putting it in God’s hands. If Tony came to mind, she’d pray. Otherwise, she needed to keep moving forward. Do the things she was assigned to do.

  Elizabeth washed her face and emptied the dryer, bringing the clothes basket to her room. As she dumped the clothes on the bed to fold, Danielle entered, already in her pajamas.

  “What happened to your closet?” she said.

  Elizabeth smiled and sat on the end of the bed, then motioned for Danielle to sit next to her. Danielle obliged. She was getting so big, so grown-up. They had only eight more years with her—no, less than that. She’d soon be off to college and then she’d meet some guy and get married and start a family.

  “I’m doing something that I should have done a long time ago,” Elizabeth said. “I’m learning how to pray and fight and trust.”

  Danielle looked as though she was trying to digest her mother’s words. “By cleaning out your closet?”

  “No. Well, yes. But no. I mean . . .” Elizabeth tried to think of the best way to help her daughter understand what she’d only come to understand herself. “It needed to be cleaned out, but that’s not why I did it. I did it to fight in prayer.”

  A scrunched-up face. “You’re fighting God?”

  “No, I’m not. Well, sometimes I do fight God. But I shouldn’t because He always wins. So I’m praying for God to fight for me, because I’m just sick of losing, but not against God. I need to lose against God.”

  She wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining. She took another run at it.

  “I’m sick of losing in other areas where I’m just fighting but I keep losing all the time. It’s exhausting. So I’m learning how not to fight God and how to let Him fight for me so that we can all win. Does that make sense?”

  Danielle frowned and gave her a look like her mind had been spun in a blender. “No.”

  “You know what?” Elizabeth said. “I don’t make much sense when I’m tired.”

  “You must be really tired.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t hold back a smile. “Let’s just go get a late-night snack and I’ll try it again, okay?”

  Danielle hopped up and raced her to the kitchen. They made fruit smoothies, though Elizabeth put her foot down and refused to include gummy worms or chocolate syrup that late at night. While they cut up the bananas and added the frozen berries and yogurt and a little granola, Danielle said, “Is Dad on another trip?”

  “Yes, he had to go to Raleigh.”

  “Why does he have to be gone so much?”

  “It’s part of the job. Comes with the territory of being a salesman.”

  “I wish he could be home more,” Danielle said. “Sort of.”

  “What do you mean, sort of?”

  “I like it when he’s home, but I don’t like it when you guys fight.”

  Elizabeth poured the smoothies into two glasses. It was such a thick concoction that the spoons stood straight up.

  “I don’t like it when we fight either. And I’m hoping that’s going to change really soon.”

  “Is that the reason you emptied your closet?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What do you mean, sort of?” Danielle said.

  Elizabeth laughed. Such a bright girl. If she and Tony could only get their lives together, they could watch her grow together and be good models for her. They could show what reconciliation looked like.

  “Danielle, I haven’t been the mother I need to be to you. I haven’t been the wife I should be. I’ve nagged your father, I’ve tried to get him to see all the things he’s done that are wrong, and I haven’t seen a lot of the things I’ve done that are hurtful. So I asked God to forgive me. I asked Him to come in and clean out my heart, just like I did the closet.”

  Danielle focused on her smoothie as her mother spoke, swallowing spoonfuls of the cold creation as she listened.

  “I’m going to apologize to your father when he comes home. But I guess I owe you an apology too.”

  Danielle looked up at her. “You want to apologize to me?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  Her daughter’s forehead wrinkled. “You didn’t do anythin
g wrong, Mama. You were right to be upset with Daddy. He yelled at you a lot.”

  “I was right to be upset for some of the things he’s done, but I didn’t handle those things well. I let my anger guide me. What I’m saying is, I want to love you and your father like God has loved me. He’s been so good to all of us. And I want to show that love to you and your dad. Does that make sense?”

  Danielle didn’t respond. She just took another bite of smoothie, put the spoon down, and folded her arms on the table in front of her.

  Part of being a good parent was knowing when to say something and what to say, Elizabeth thought. The hardest part of parenting was knowing when to say nothing and listen.

  Finally Danielle looked up at her mother with something that looked like regret. “You’re not the only one who needs to love that way.”

  “What do you mean, sweetie?”

  “I haven’t been the daughter I want to be either.” Her chin quivered and her lips began to tremble.

  Elizabeth took her daughter in her arms and held her tight as Danielle began to recite some of the things on her heart she had been holding in. Little things, stuff she’d said, things that had happened at school—they all just came spilling out there at the table, and Elizabeth stroked her head, letting her talk. As Danielle confessed the things she had held inside, Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned her face toward heaven and whispered, “Thank You, Jesus.”

  The two of them prayed together there at the table. They finished their smoothies and Danielle seemed like a weight had lifted from her.

  “Could you help me do something?” Danielle said after they washed their dishes.

  “It’s getting late, sweetie. What is it?”

  “Could you help me clean out my closet?”

  The question made Elizabeth want to cry and shout at the same time. She wanted to call Clara right then and tell her they had another prayer warrior to add to the platoon.