Alicen just continued to stare at the bag. Louise cleared her throat and set the paper bag on top of the room’s tall five-drawer dresser. “I’ll just let you go through that whenever you want.”
Silence filled the room as Alicen studied her friend’s face. Louise was probably waiting for Alicen to say something, anything, but nothing felt easier. Mostly Alicen just wanted to go back to sleep. Mostly she just wanted to be left alone. Louise hesitated another moment and then pulled a nearby chair over and placed it facing Alicen’s bed.
She sat, now nearly at eye level with Alicen, and flashed another soft smile. “You look better today. The nurse said you had a rough night but that you seemed in higher spirits this morning. That’s a good sign, right?”
Alicen tried to respond but couldn’t. Somewhere deep down Alicen really did want to interact with her best friend. After everything they had been through the last couple of months, it was cruel to treat her with such numbness. But Alicen was controlled by fog. So another moment of silence passed.
“Betty wanted to come,” Louise said, “but you know Betty. She’s probably in bed too.” Louise forced a chuckle to try and fight the silent awkwardness. “She just mopes around the house. She’s driving me crazy, to be honest, but then she always has.” Louise looked at Alicen and gave a small wince. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m complaining about her to you. Of all people.”
The thought of Betty and Louise stuck together, alone, in the Watson summer home, was comical. Enough that even through haze it brought a smile to Alicen’s lips. Louise noticed and gave a small laugh. She eased back in her chair a bit, and a comfortable silence started to settle. Alicen felt like maybe having her friend there wasn’t so bad. The company might actually feel good. Or at least it might if it felt like anything.
Louise shifted in her chair, switching the position of her legs and glancing around the room. “This is nice,” she said.
Alicen didn’t respond. The room was . . .
Her mind decided the rest of that thought wasn’t necessary, so she just continued her deadpan stare forward, listening to the steady rhythm of her own blood pumping in her skull. Had she ever been still and quiet enough to observe the way her blood pumped? She wasn’t sure. Was this what ultimate peace felt like? She didn’t know.
“Do you mind if I just stay with you here awhile?” Louise asked, her tone soft and almost sorrowful. “We don’t have to talk; I just want to be here.”
Alicen suddenly wanted her to be there as well. It wasn’t a strong wave of rolling desire, just a tiny pinch in the back of her throat that mourned the idea of lying in her room alone. She managed a nod, and Louise returned her muted gesture with another classic Watson smile.
The room fell quiet once more, Louise peacefully occupying the space while Alicen’s mind drifted back into the fog. They stayed like that for several long minutes, and warmth filled the room. Alicen could feel herself being dragged off to sleep, her eyelids heavy, the comfort of a friend creating a safe nook.
Alicen thought maybe she’d fallen asleep for a moment when the crunch of paper drew her attention. Louise had moved the paper bag she’d brought Alicen to the floor by the chair’s front leg and was pulling a glossy magazine from its interior.
Louise must have noticed Alicen’s stare, because she lifted her eyes from her task and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” she said. Then, as if someone had switched a light on in her mind, Louise’s eyes widened. “I almost totally forgot—I have something else for you,” she said. “I’m not sure I should be giving it to you, but when I found it . . . I don’t know, I just thought maybe you should have it.” She reached into the inside pocket of her blazer. “I didn’t put it in the bag because I was afraid they might take it from me.” She pulled out a thin, yellowed envelope and handed it to Alicen.
Alicen stared at the envelope for a long moment and then moved her hand out to reach for it. Her shoulder and side ached as she did. She hadn’t done much moving, and the stiffness of remaining in the same position for long periods of time had worked its way into her muscles. She grasped the envelope between her fingers and turned it over to see her name scrawled across the front in a handwriting that was unmistakable. Grandma Joe’s. She also noticed that several pieces of clear tape ran down the center, melding together two pieces with jagged edges. She glanced up at Louise, and Louise shrugged.
“I’m not sure what happened there. I found it in your mom’s trash basket the other day while I was cleaning up the place. You know me—stress equals cleaning, so the house basically sparkles right now.” Louise chuckled uncomfortably, and the room fell back to silence for a moment. She dropped her eyes from Alicen to her fingers. “It’s hard to know if letting them bring you here was the right thing,” she said, visibly struggling to contain her emotions. “And seeing you like this . . . I think maybe we, I, made a terrible mistake. And I know your mom believes that all of Grandma Joe’s mess assisted in getting you here, but . . .” Her words trailed off, and there was a beat of silence before she continued. “But I just remember all the love between you two, so maybe it’d be good to be reminded of that.”
Louise glanced back up to Alicen, and Alicen could see the sparkle of tears in the corners of her eyes. Alicen looked back to the letter in her hand, and two thoughts gathered at the same time. Once she could have said why her mother had torn this letter and thrown it away, though she couldn’t exactly grasp it currently, and in the fumed state of things she wasn’t sure she could still read.
She held the letter back out to Louise, who raised her eyebrows. Alicen mustered all her strength and said, “Read it to me?”
“Right now?” Louise asked, seeming a bit hesitant.
Alicen kept her arm extended, and Louise took the letter back. “Okay.” She flipped open the top flap and pulled out the folded message, which had also been torn and taped back together. She threw Alicen another hesitant look but unfolded the letter.
She cleared her throat and started. “‘Dear Alicen, As I write this letter, I am sitting inside the bay window at Grandpa’s old mahogany desk, watching you dance in the fading summer sunlight.’”
Alicen closed her eyes and listened as Louise’s voice was replaced by the sound of Grandma Joe’s.
You’re dancing to a tune only you can hear, your face filled with joy and happiness and hope. Nothing yet weighing on your shoulders, no troubles or pain, and even as I write, I want you to know I would give anything for that reality to never be dampened. But I know all too well what is coming.
Oh, my sweet, there’s so much to tell you. So much that you can’t yet fully understand, but I see now that we haven’t enough time together. I can’t explain to you how I know; it’s just a feeling I get in my old bones. I won’t always be around to guide you or to encourage you to find the truth. All I can do is trust in what I’ve seen of you so far. And oh, my sweet little girl, how great the glory in you is! It’s the treasure in your earthen vessel.
There is darkness in the world, Alicen—shadows and evil. You cannot avoid it. It comes for all of us. Remember that the world most see is only form, filled with necessary opposites. But beyond what most see is the unseen world filled with light and beauty. It took me a long time to realize that in order for light to be known, darkness must be seen for what it is: a shadow that blocks the light. Remember that shadows are only that—shadows.
Pain, shame, anger, fear—these are the shadows that hide the light, but only when you forget who He said you are. In these moments you must remember what Jesus taught: You are the light of the world. You are made of perfect love, and there is no fear in that love. You’re called to it and strong enough to show it to others.
People will mock you and say you are crazy because you see the world differently. Don’t get lost in the shame they will push on you. Seeing beyond what is right in front of you will save your life, as it has mine. Know this: the voice of the Holy Spirit will never lead you astray. It is a holy companion
and is with you wherever you go, even if you can’t always hear it.
Give your mother grace. It was my responsibility to show her different, and I failed. I believe you can succeed where I did not. Love her fiercely. As you find a different path to freedom, I pray she will follow.
People tell me the children I see are illusions. But I have always known they were sent to show me what my eyes alone couldn’t see. They’re real, and they speak great truth, all too often forgotten. That truth is Christ’s love, full of light and power, a love that keeps no record of wrong. A love that casts out all fear, all shame, everything but itself. There is no fear in love.
The world will try to steal that truth from you. Remember they can’t. You do not simply hold light but are made of light itself. All the world can do is try to make you forget who you are. At times it will be cruel. The pain will be overwhelming, and for seasons you may not be able to see through it.
When you can’t see, remember that your perception will determine your experience in this world. The eye is the lamp of the body, as Jesus taught. If your perception is clear, your whole life will be full of light. If your perception is clouded, you will experience darkness, shame, and fear.
Whenever you experience fear, it’s only because your perception is clouded.
To clear your vision, remember who you are as the light. Learn to forgive yourself because you’re forgiven. Shame will be your accuser; it will try to blind you. Learning to let it go will be your greatest struggle and your greatest gift. I know because it has been mine. Listen to the voice of love that holds no record of wrong, and when the accuser comes to remind you of your inadequacies, hear the voice of love in the stillness singing the song of your true identity.
Even though they will try to shake your faith to its core, believe in the truth of the glory within you, which is the light of Christ. The perfect love of Him who is the vine. You are one with that vine, a branch, an aspect of the vine itself. Abide there. You in the vine and the vine in you. Don’t forget where you come from. When you are called through deep waters, don’t be afraid. Go to the waters that summon you. Dive deep, and be transformed.
I don’t know where you will be when this letter finds you, but I am entrusting it to a woman who sees and knows more than she gives herself credit for, so I trust it will find you when you need it. My heart aches, thinking of what pain you may have already endured. Pain is not the enemy, Alicen; it is the doorway to moving beyond it. Only when we walk into the valley of the shadow of death do we understand that even death is just a shadow.
Remember, you’re never alone; a part of me will always be with you. Take heart, my darling granddaughter. May you see with the eyes of the Spirit, and may you trust in the light that is Christ’s perfect love. May you go into the deep whenever you are called, and perhaps even learn to walk on water. I love you with all my heart.
“‘Yours truly, Grandma Joe,’” Louise concluded, her voice choked with emotion. She glanced up, tears lacing her cheeks. Alicen was sitting up. She wasn’t sure when she had moved, but somewhere between the lines of her grandmother’s words, Alicen’s body had responded.
“Alicen . . . ?” Louise whispered but then fell silent.
Alicen could feel her heart starting to race. The most movement she’d had in days. The heavy numbness of medication seemed to be tightening its grasp on her mind, but something deep inside her gut was fighting back. “Read it again,” she whispered.
Louise complied. Grandma Joe’s words filled the room and bled into Alicen’s chest. Every line a gentle tug away from nothingness, toward something powerful.
How great the glory in you is!
The voice of the Holy Spirit will never lead you astray.
Don’t get lost in shame.
Learn to forgive yourself.
Remember, you’re never alone.
The words pressed further into Alicen’s body and expanded through her until it felt as if the entire room were filled with the warmth that was building from within.
“‘I love you with all my heart,’” Louise read, another wave of tears running down her cheeks.
“Again,” Alicen said, aware that she too was crying.
Louise began a third time, and as if her grandmother were in the very room, her tone echoed through Alicen’s ears.
Shadows are only that—shadows.
You are the light of the world.
Called to it and strong enough to show it to others.
Shame will be your accuser.
Trust in the light that is Christ’s perfect love.
Dive deep.
Be transformed.
Tears dripped off Alicen’s chin, each word stoking a fire inside her gut that threatened to burn through her stomach. Then something cracked open inside her skull, and pain rippled down the back of her neck. She leaned forward and placed her head into her hands, a small cry dropping off her lips. Her head throbbed and erupted with agony as another jolt of suffering exploded behind her temples. Tears flooded her cheeks as pain raced through her entire being.
Alicen, can you hear us? Not her grandmother’s voice but a chorus of voices she knew.
“Alicen?” Louise said. The chair scraped the tiled floor as it moved, and Alicen felt Louise’s touch on her knees as her friend dropped to a squat in front of her. “Alicen, what’s wrong?”
A familiar sense bloomed and spread at a rapid pace through her body. A well of emotions that had been muted now bubbled to the surface, and all at once Alicen felt everything. Her grandmother’s voice continued to echo through her drowning mind, her body filled with pain and agony, hunched over, logic screaming that this was wrong. She shouldn’t be feeling this deeply; the pain would be the end of her.
But the words of Grandma Joe and the familiar comfort of the chorus echoed over the tiny scream of fear, and for a moment it was blocked out entirely. And for that moment Alicen only felt peace. Warmth from somewhere beyond her body flooded her senses and wrapped her in comfort. It didn’t last, and nearly as quickly as it had gone, the aching in her mind and body returned, but the taste of such pure peace had been enough for Alicen to crave more.
“Alicen!” Louise cried, and Alicen became aware of her friend’s terrified concern. “I’m going to get somebody, okay?”
Louise started to move, but Alicen reached out and grabbed her friend’s arm. Louise stilled and returned her attention to Alicen. The pain was real and cruel, the shame thick and heavy, the loss terrifying and deafening, but that peace was still present, calm and quiet, waiting to be invited in. And Alicen wanted to feel it. For the first time since she could remember, she wanted to feel it all.
Pain is not the enemy, Alicen; it is the doorway to moving beyond it. It is written that only when we walk into the valley of the shadow of death do we understand that even death is just a shadow.
“Alicen, let me get you help,” Louise said again.
“No,” Alicen breathed out. Sobs began to pour from her mouth, shaking her shoulders, making her chest ache.
“I’m getting someone,” Louise insisted and tried to stand, but Alicen’s grip was strong. She tugged on her friend. Alicen stood from her bed, Louise turning back toward her, and Alicen pulled Louise in close, wrapping her in an embrace. For a split second Louise stood unmoving, and then as the shock washed away she relaxed into Alicen’s arms and pulled her closer.
“I want to be free, Lou,” Alicen whispered. “I want to be free.”
Louise hugged Alicen fiercely, and together they wept. Alicen wasn’t sure how long they stood there, caught up in the same pure moment of sorrow and joy, Grandma Joe’s words seeming to echo all around them as peace began to settle throughout the room. It could have been minutes or hours, but when Alicen finally pulled back from Louise, something in her was different.
The effects of her deadening medication had lifted. Her bloodstream felt free and clean, her mind focused, her soul singing. It was mysterious and unexplainable, and Alicen knew the little gir
l was there before she saw her. Evie. Standing behind Louise, beside the bedroom door, smiling and ready to guide Alicen to the end. And Alicen was ready to follow.
25
Alicen stared over Louise’s shoulder at the small girl and felt a tug at her soul. There was more for her yet to see, more to feel and receive. The peace she had barely touched on was vast; she wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she hadn’t felt so certain of anything for as long as she could remember. There was more, and Alicen had to find it.
“What is it?” Louise asked, reaching up and rubbing the side of Alicen’s arm. Her face still flushed from crying, her eyes sparkling with leftover tears, she sniffed and waited for Alicen to respond.
Alicen considered her words. How could she explain something she barely understood to the woman before her? She glanced back to where Evie had been standing, but the girl was gone.
Louise followed Alicen’s eyes and turned her head to look, then refocused forward. “What?” she asked again.
Alicen returned her gaze to Louise as the sweet voices drifted through her mind. Alicen, come and remember the truth. Her stomach warmed, her spirit yanking at her rib cage as though it were a gentle hand wrapped around her chest, pulling her forward.
“Alicen?” Louise said with a little more force.
“I’m sorry,” Alicen said, shaking her head slightly. A small gust of laughter left her lips.
Louise smiled, her eyes sparking with interest. “What is going on?”
“I need to go,” Alicen said and took a step to walk past Louise toward the door.
Louise grabbed Alicen’s elbow and forced her to stop. “Wait, what? Go? Where are you going?” Louise asked.
Alicen shifted around and gently pulled herself free of Louise’s grasp. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Well, try,” Louise said. Her tone was firm, filled with the kind of concern that came from deep love.
“Louise, it’s all right,” Alicen said. “Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry! Alicen, ten minutes ago you could barely lift your head off the pillow; you were barely speaking to me—”
When Through Deep Waters Page 24
