by Lois Richer
“I got that idea from all the bad things that keep happening to me.” Again Brianna felt a surge of bitterness take hold.
“What makes you think you should be immune from bad things?” Brian Benson demanded. “Did someone promise you perfection?”
“No. But—” She frowned. Put that way she sounded childish. “So many things in my life have gone the opposite to what I expected,” she admitted.
“Then maybe your expectations were wrong.” He set down his cup and turned to face her. “Everyone’s allowed to lapse into self-pity sometimes, Brianna, but if you stay there, you’re heading for trouble.”
Self-pity? She wanted to reject that, but maybe he was right.
“Honey, you have to trust the future to God. He has plans for you, though it might not seem like it now. You can’t let the present problems obscure the future.”
Brianna smiled. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d been telling her clients? The old adage “Physician heal thyself,” mocked her. She’d been pushing the kids she counseled, and their parents, to look for possibilities, and here she was doing what they did, letting current problems confound her.
“The thing is, it’s called a ‘faith walk’ because you have to have faith to walk it,” her father continued. “You can’t know the answers ahead of time, no matter how much you want to. Believe me, I have my own whys that I’d like answered. But God doesn’t owe me any answers.” His voice grew serious. “Long ago I said He was Lord of my life. A servant doesn’t ask the master why he has to do things. He just does them, trusting that the master has a good reason.”
His words bit deep into Brianna’s soul. That’s what she’d been doing. Asking God to justify Himself to her.
“The Bible says the same thing a little differently. It says the clay doesn’t look at the potter and say, ‘Why did you make me into this kind of a pot? Change me. Make me that kind.’” He chuckled. “My dad told me that and it’s stuck with me. Whenever I want to ask God why, I think of myself as a pot on the potter’s wheel, one eye wide open, peering at the master potter and telling him how to make me. It makes me feel ridiculous every time.”
“I can imagine.” She watched while her father stretched, stood, picked up his cup and bent to brush his lips against her forehead. “Good night, Dad.”
“Good night, honey.” He walked to the back door, paused and then peered through the gloom at her. “Maybe it’s time to start thinking about what God is trying to teach you.”
Alone in the night, with the moon creeping into the starlit sky, Brianna felt ashamed of her attitude. Yes, it had been hard to raise Cory without his father, hard to learn after Craig’s death that he’d known he would die soon and hadn’t told her. It was hard to keep encouraging kids when the parents fought her so hard. It was more than hard to see her mother and be subjected to her verbal abuse every time.
Last Sunday’s sermon echoed inside her head.
God never promised you a rose garden, but He said He’d be there to help you deal with the thorns.
Brianna resolved to change her thinking. She was still angry at Zac, and she’d have to work to get over that, but she’d also learned a lesson. Zac wasn’t considering a future here in Hope. He had plans to move on, plans that made her silly daydreams of what might be futile.
Better to face that now before her heart got in any deeper.
* * *
“You are as close to God as you choose to be.”
The minister’s words hit Zac with the impact of a steel brick.
“Intimate friendship with God is a choice, not an accident,” the pastor continued.
Wait a minute. Did that mean these feelings of uselessness that had plagued Zac for years—that was his fault? That God hadn’t given up on him?
“If you want a more intimate connection with God, first of all you’re going to have to learn to share your feelings with Him. All of them.” The sermon seemed specially chosen for Zac. He couldn’t have ignored the words if he wanted to.
“God doesn’t expect His kids to be perfect. None of the great Biblical figures were perfect. If that was a requirement, none of us would attain His friendship. But God does expect your honesty, even if that involves messing up a million times. Even if it involves complaining and arguing with Him. Read the Psalms. David often accused God of unfairness, betrayal and even abandonment. He said, ‘I pour out my complaints before Him and tell Him all my troubles. For I am overwhelmed.’ David never pretended everything was okay between God and him.”
Zac considered his attitude. He’d always believed he didn’t possess the qualities God required in order to use someone, that he was a misfit and therefore unfit for God’s work. After all he didn’t have the same glib ability as his friends to talk to others about ordinary stuff, let alone about godly things. But that wasn’t what the pastor was saying.
“If you read the Old Testament, you’ll find God was very honest with His children. He got so fed up with Israel’s disobedience in the desert He told Moses He would keep His promise regarding the Promised Land, but He refused to go one step farther. God was sick and tired of his kids!” The man joined the congregation’s laughter. “I see some of you parents can relate. So don’t worry, God can handle your honesty. He can handle your anger. But if you’re going to be honest with God and others, you have to be honest with yourself. You have to open yourself up to others being honest with you.”
And that was his stumbling block, Zac knew. He just couldn’t let go of the fear that if he were honest, if he let someone see inside to all his cracks and weaknesses, they’d make fun of him. That’s what terrified him, that people would see his insecurities and mock him as nothing but a teacher who couldn’t even master his own issues. How could he help others?
Whatever was said next, Zac missed as he kept turning the issue over and over in his mind. Why was the deep intimate kind of honesty so hard for him?
When the service ended, he saw Brianna greet Jaclyn and Kent, but though the couple waved, Brianna kept her head averted and soon left with Cory. She was still mad at him and he didn’t blame her. He hadn’t been honest with her about Your World just as he hadn’t been honest all those years ago when he’d latched on to her mother’s offer like a life preserver.
It was time—past time—to apologize to her.
Zac hurried out the door and searched the parking lot. He saw Brianna pulling away in her father’s car. She didn’t even glance his way though Zac saw Cory turn and wave.
“What’s the rush, professor?” Kent stood behind him, peering down the street. “You missed Brianna.”
“Thank you for that astute observation.” Zac regretted the frustrated response as soon as he said it, but apparently Kent didn’t take offense. He simply grinned. “I was hoping to apologize to her,” Zac muttered.
“For what?” Kent’s grin slid away. “You did something really stupid, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Zac admitted freely.
“So make it right,” his friend ordered before he loped back to his wife.
Yeah. Make it right. But how?
Honesty increases the level of intimacy. But if you’re going to be honest with God and others, you have to open yourself up.
Open himself up—to Brianna? Could he do that again and risk leaving himself unprotected? Could he risk not doing it and losing Brianna’s help?
Zac trudged the short distance to his home, struggling to dislodge the minister’s words. But the words before the benediction hung in the back of his mind like a chant he couldn’t ignore.
If you want to be close to God, then learn how to trust Him, no matter what He asks you to do.
Zac ate his lunch without tasting a thing as the inward battle raged.
Trust God?
That was the root of his problem.
Zac didn’t t
rust anyone.
* * *
“These colors don’t go together. If you’d stayed in the store and learned from me, you’d know that. I can’t understand how you could be so stupid.”
“Neither do I, Mom. Neither do I.” A wealth of bitterness suffused her as Brianna gathered her array of quilt patches and stuffed them into her bag. She said a quick goodbye then left the room, tears overflowing the moment she stepped over the threshold. She felt rather than heard her father follow her and, for his sake, tried to regain her calm.
“Your mother loves you, Brianna. In spite of what you think.”
“That was love?” She shook her head, her eyes clouded by tears.
“That was frustration.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed.
“Dad, it’s obvious that she hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t. She loves you very much. She just can’t express it. She never learned how.” He wiped away her tears. “Try to imagine her world. She wakes up and she’s here, alone. She doesn’t always remember why she’s here or where we are. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen to her. She can’t get the words she needs to communicate, to express what she wants. Everything has changed and she’s confused and angry and hurt and scared. And, yes, she takes it out on you. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
“Ha! You heard what she said. Being called stupid is a strange form of love.” Brianna gulped. “I’ve made quilts for years, and sold many of them to people who claimed I have a knack for blending colors and textures. I paid for my schooling that way. But my own mother can’t see any potential in my work. What kind of love is that?”
“She does love you,” her dad insisted.
Brianna sniffled her disbelief. She pressed away from him, her eyelashes damp and stuck together.
“I stayed away all these years because she wanted her disappointing daughter out of her life, so I wouldn’t ruin her success. I came back because you said she wanted me here, but that’s not true. She doesn’t want me here. I’m still the bad daughter who wouldn’t become part of her business.” Her lips tightened. “I’ve had it, Dad. I’m sick of being put down so she’ll feel better. It’s better if I don’t come here anymore. Less upsetting for both of us.”
“No.” Mr. Benson clasped his daughter’s shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Your mother does not hate you, Brianna. She never has.”
“I don’t believe you.” Brianna saw Zac coming toward them from down the hall. She blew her nose and thrust back her shoulders. “And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“I do, but we’ll have to discuss it later. I’m going back in to make sure Anita’s settled. I’ll see you at home.” He hurried into the room just as his wife called for him.
“I need to talk to you, Brianna.” Zac stood in front of her, blocking her exit.
“Isn’t it amazing that even after all those years of her running him ragged, Dad still worships the ground my mother walks on?” Brianna muttered as she glared at him.
“I don’t know.” He frowned. “Did you hear me?”
“I don’t want to talk to you or anyone right now, Zac.” She walked around him, down the hall and out into the parking lot. “I just want to get out of here.”
“I’ll take you for a ride.”
“I’d rather be alone.” She strode away, furious that he thought he could just waltz back into her life after using her to get his big master plan under way.
“I’m not going away and you won’t shake me until I say what I came to say.” Though she ignored him, he kept pace easily, modulating his steps to hers.
The afternoon was warm and it wasn’t long before Brianna began to perspire. It was clear that Zac wasn’t going to be brushed off so easily. Tired, cranky and fed up with her life, she jerked to a halt and wheeled around to face him.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Today’s my day off. I’m not available to give you counseling about your new goal. Or anything else. I need to figure out how I’m going to get to Las Cruces and pick up Cory’s birthday present before his party tomorrow. So whatever you need, you’ll have to handle it yourself.”
“I could take you.”
“No, thanks.” She glared at him. No way did she want to spend the afternoon tied in knots because of Zac Ender.
“Please, Brianna. Just listen.” He gazed at her, his dark eyes serious. “I’m sorry. I mean that sincerely. I apologize for not telling you what I was planning. At first I didn’t even think about it mattering to you, and then later—”
“Later I stupidly fell in with your plan, like the idiot I am, and you decided not to give me the consideration of telling me the reason you sucked me into the whole thing. Is that what you’re saying, Zac?” She loaded the words with as much scorn as she could, still stinging from her mother’s rejection.
“Not exactly what I meant.” Zac frowned, hesitated, but after a moment, nodded. “But if that works for you, then, yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Some apology.” Brianna hissed a sigh from between her teeth, glaring at him in utter frustration. “Just like before. When are you going to figure out that all you have to do is be honest, Zac? I would have helped you anyway because I care about helping the kids in this town. What would it have cost you to tell me the truth?”
“A lot.” He shrugged. “I don’t open up to people easily. You know that. You know that I’m a klutz at human relationships.”
“That’s your favorite song, isn’t it? I can’t help it. That’s the way God made me.” She moved so her face was inches from his and glared into his eyes. “It’s baloney, and you know it. You aren’t a klutz when you forget about your silly preconceptions. It’s when you get the focus off of others and on to yourself that you mess up.”
Chapter Seven
Zac flinched, decimated by her diagnosis of his problem. But more than that, with that simple touch on his arm, she’d reached past his self-imposed barriers to reignite that part of him that was not immune to her.
He was tired of this age-old reaction to Brianna, the fizzling spear of tenderness that flamed whenever he looked at her, then shot straight to his gut, doubling his nervousness in spite of his determination to remain unflappable. He was tired of his inability to erase the blaze of feeling he’d had ten years ago. Mostly he was tired of always trying to measure up and feeling like he constantly fell short.
He spared a moment to wonder if God was fed up with him.
Zac inhaled and forced out the words he should have said weeks ago. “I don’t want us to be at loggerheads, Brianna. We have to work together. I screwed up. I didn’t tell you my plans when I asked for your help and I should have. I’m sorry and I apologize.”
There. He’d said it. There was nothing else to say. He turned and walked toward his car.
“That’s it?” She grabbed his arm and drew him to a halt. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What more do you want?” Anger that she kept pushing him bubbled inside. “I messed up. Again. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No. I’d like to hear why you’re doing Your World.” Her beautiful eyes impaled him. “What’s the big draw working at state level?”
Zac studied her, searching for the best way to explain because he knew she wouldn’t let it go. “Curriculum, which I’ve always wanted to be involved in.”
“I get that. But that’s not all of it,” she challenged. “Be honest with me, Zac.”
“Curriculum is primarily office work. Developmental.”
“Uh-huh.” Brianna’s sandal-clad feet were planted, her stance combative.
“In curriculum I won’t have to do any public presentations,” he finally blurted out.
“But—you’ve always been so great with kids. You used to live to get in the cla
ssroom and make education come alive. You’re willing to give that up?” The green of her eyes darkened to a forest tone. Her mouth formed an O. “You will, won’t you? To avoid public speaking.”
“Yes,” he agreed, wondering if he looked as small as he now felt.
“But you’re not required to do a lot of speaking now.”
“Assembly tomorrow,” he reminded her, dread dogging his spirit. “The parents will be there.”
“So what? They’re mostly people we went to school with.”
“Exactly.” He could imagine what they’d think when nerdy Zac Ender stuttered his way through an explanation of Your World.
“Most parents’ concern is that their kids do well. They’re not going to be focused on you as much as the program.” Brianna craned her neck forward, scrutinizing his face. “You’re really that bothered?”
“Yes,” Zac assured her, embarrassed by the admission. “If you remember, I was never that good at presentations, and trust me, I have not improved with age.”
“Yes, but—” She spluttered, obviously at a loss. “But I’ve seen you with the kids. You’re not nervous when you’re with them.”
“Sometimes I am, but it’s easier to hide it with kids. Not so easy with adults. Especially ones who knew me in the good old days.” He shrugged. She wanted honesty? Okay, let’s see how she handled him baring his soul. “I freeze up, Brianna. I get tongue-tied and I don’t make sense, even to myself. Who wants to listen to that?”
“But you can’t just opt out. Not now.” She gave him a speculative glance. “Your World is your project. You have to be involved. Publicly involved,” she emphasized.
“I will be.” Humiliated and embarrassed, Zac wanted this conversation to end. “Forget my problems. What I wanted to do today was apologize for not telling you my plans. Now that I’ve done that, I’ll go and let you enjoy your afternoon.”
He’d almost made it to his car when she spoke again.
“Is the offer of a ride to Las Cruces still on?”
