Time Tsunami

by Danele J Rotharmel

  “Oh, Sue!”

  “It was a hard time, but Billy was a rock. After a while, things got better. Bill got a promotion and I took care of Danny. We still didn’t have much money, but we did have lots of fun. Our favorite thing was to pack up Danny, grab a picnic lunch, and go for a hike in the woods. Bill could make even a simple walk seem like a grand adventure.”

  “You loved him very much,” Sam said, looking off into the distance.

  “Yes,” Sue quietly replied. “I did.”

  Sam looked back at her. “And then…?”

  Sue took a shuddering breath. “And then he got sick. It started slowly. I’m not even sure when it first started. Bill would get tired playing with Danny, but we didn’t think much of it at first—we thought he was just working too hard. But I started noticing he was losing weight. I was worried, but Bill brushed it off. I wanted him to go to the doctor, but he didn’t want to spend the money. In the end, he went more to please me than because he felt worried, but…”

  Sam gently tightened his arm around her and waited.

  “It was cancer.”

  Sam brushed away the tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  They sat in silence, gliding slowly back and forth. After a moment, Sue cleared her throat. “The final two years were a nightmare—and a treasure. Bill was weak from his treatments, but he stayed upbeat. Every day, he tried to show me how much he loved me. When he quit his job, I found work at the plant while he watched Danny after school.”

  “Danny mentioned his dad reading the Bible to him.”

  Sue nodded. “Bill was determined to teach our son all about God. He became so frail that he had to lie on the couch, but he’d have Danny cuddle up with him and they’d read the Bible together. Eventually, Bill couldn’t hold the Bible, so Danny turned the pages for him.”

  “He sounds like a wonderful father.”

  “He tried to be, and he was.”

  “And a wonderful husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for your pain,” Sam murmured, taking her hand.

  “I was more numb than in pain. I’d never worked outside the home before, and suddenly, I was pulling full-time shifts to pay for massive doctor bills, taking care of a sick husband, running a house, and raising a child. Even though Bill’s health kept deteriorating, I was certain God would heal him. I refused to let Bill talk about funeral plans. I wasn’t in denial about his type of cancer—we both knew it was terminal—but I was convinced God would give us a miracle. I had the deacons anoint Bill and pray over him, I fasted and claimed his healing, I taped healing scriptures all over the house, I put Bill on prayer chains, I played worship music in every room, I even Jericho marched around the house, but…”

  Sam held her close and remained silent.

  Sue cleared her throat. “At the funeral, one of the deacon’s wives told me that if I’d had more faith, Bill would’ve been healed. Another person said Bill must’ve committed a secret sin or all the prayer would’ve worked.”

  “Oh, Sue!”

  “I stopped going to church after that. I was hurt and angry, but most of all, I felt betrayed by God. Billy was a good man. He did his best to serve God. And I did have faith. I did! I believed so much in Bill’s healing that when I discovered he wasn’t breathing...it was a shock.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Sam said gently.

  “So am I,” Sue muttered. “Bill’s death was senseless and it hurt.”

  Sam nodded and gently rubbed her shoulder. “I don’t know what it feels like to lose your soulmate, but I understand the pain of losing someone you love after praying for them. When my father died, it hit me hard. I don’t know why God sometimes chooses not to heal.”

  “I don’t know either,” Sue mumbled, her voice thick with tears. “But I do know that it wasn’t because Billy was sinful or because I wasn’t praying hard enough.”

  Holding her close, Sam said firmly, “Those people at the funeral were wrong—horribly wrong. It’s our job to pray for healing, but it’s God’s job to decide whether or not to do it. We can’t hope to understand the scope of God’s plans.”

  Sue shifted in his arms. “Before I moved here, the deacon’s wife visited me. I didn’t want to talk to her, but I didn’t know how to get rid of her without being rude. Over tea, she brought up Bill’s death. She said since Jesus healed everyone He met it was obviously my fault or Billy’s that things hadn’t turned out differently.”

  Sam made a disgusted sound in his throat. “That’s the cruelest type of heresy! Granted, there were some instances in the Bible when Jesus healed everyone present at a particular time, but there were also instances when He deliberately avoided healing. In John chapter five when Jesus healed the man at the pool of Bethesda, there were lots of people waiting to be healed, but Jesus didn’t heal any of them. Only God knows why. Only God sees the big picture. Humans can’t begin to understand why some are healed and some aren’t.”

  “It just feels awful to be ignored by God.”

  “He didn’t ignore you,” Sam said, gently stroking her cheek. “He just said no.”

  “Even though I know you’re right, it still hurts. I felt like God was playing games with me—that’s why I walked away from Him. I didn’t want anything to do with a God who’d let me experience such pain. I couldn’t understand why God let Billy die.”

  “I felt the same after Dad passed away. I believe it’s the why that drives a person crazy.”

  “It was the why that kept me up at nights.”

  Leaning down, Sam picked up a stick. “When Dad died, I was so angry at God that I wrote the word why over and over on a piece of paper. As I did, I began to see a truth.” With the stick, Sam drew a W in the dirt. “When we’re in pain and start to ask why, it’s as if we’re traveling through the word itself. At first, we come to the W. We embark on a crooked path full of downs and ups. We struggle with who we believe God is. We struggle with how we’ll respond to Him in light of our pain. We hate God. We run to God. We hate God. We run to God. We’re traveling in the W.”

  “That’s how I felt,” Sue said. “I wanted to run to God with my pain, and at the same time, I wanted to punish Him by ignoring Him. I felt so confused.”

  “That’s the W. Confusion. Crookedness. Ups. Downs.” Sam drew an H on the ground. “The devil loves to take advantage of us when we’re confused, so after the W, we come to H—the place of entrapment. Satan loves to whisper lies in our ears. Soon, he has us trapped between false ideas about why God let us be hurt.”

  “I did feel trapped in my pain. I didn’t understand why Bill wasn’t healed.”

  Sam retraced the H. “When I was angry at God, the two things the devil kept telling me was either God wasn’t powerful enough to stop Dad’s death, or else—”

  Sue spoke up quickly, “—or else God was mean.”

  Sam nodded. “The devil had my mind running back and forth between those possibilities. God isn’t powerful. God is mean. My mind felt like a ping-pong ball hitting two walls. I was stuck in the H.”

  “So what did you do?” Sue asked.

  “Well, after the H, you come to the Y.” Sam drew a Y on the ground. “In the Y, you start at the bottom and work your way up. You acknowledge that God’s tugging at your heart and you reexamine your faith. You decide if you’re going to believe that God is real and that He’s personally interested in your life. You look at what the Bible says and decide if you’re going to trust it. It’s as if your old faith was made of building blocks that have come tumbling down, and you inspect each block and decide what to do with it.”

  “My faith did feel like a pile of toppled blocks,” Sue said softly. “But even while I was trying to ignore God, little things kept drawing me to Him...I just kept resisting.”

  Sam smiled. “I think God shows His love best when we, as His children, throw a temper fit and He calmly waits for us to stop kicking so He can hug us again.”

  Sue slowly nodded. “I knew God want
ed to help me with my pain, but I was too angry to care. I thought if God had done things my way, everything would’ve been fine.”

  Sam squeezed her shoulders. “I think everyone feels that way at times—if they’ll admit it. I know I did. But when I stopped fighting, I came to the crossroad at the top of the Y. After you reexamine your beliefs, you’ll either deny God and throw away your faith in Him, or else—”

  “—or else you’ll accept the fact that even though you don’t understand why things happened, God is still God and He loves you.”

  “Exactly.” Sam retraced the why in the dirt. “There’ll come a time in every Christian’s life when they have to walk through the why and decide to follow Christ even when life seems unfair.”

  Sam sighed and looked at a hawk wheeling in the sky. “I never understood what a sacrifice of praise meant until the first time I worshiped God after my father’s death. I was in such turmoil that singing was the last thing I felt like doing, but after I gave my sacrifice of praise, I felt God’s peace enveloping me again.”

  “You were pretty upset, weren’t you?” Sue asked.

  “Truthfully, I was so angry that I accused God of lying in Hebrews 4:15.”

  Sue frowned. “I don’t think I’m familiar with that verse.”

  “It says that Jesus suffered in all things just like we do.”

  “And you didn’t think that was true?”

  “I thought it was a bald-faced lie. I told God that Jesus never had anyone die on Him except Lazarus. And since Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, it didn’t count. As I was yelling, I heard a sorrowful voice deep within my spirit say, ‘What about Joseph?’”

  Sue blinked. “I never thought about him.”

  “Me either, but I did some research and learned that Joseph probably died when Jesus was young. Being the eldest boy, the support of Jesus’ family likely fell on His shoulders. Mark 6:2 says He worked as a carpenter. Jesus knew the pain of death, and He knew the pressure of finances. Not only that, He knew betrayal by His own family. When He began His ministry, His brothers and sisters didn’t believe in Him. His hometown rejected Him. The religious leaders accused Him of being drunk and demon possessed. The gossips tore His character apart and twisted His words. He was lied about, misunderstood, and tossed out of towns. One of His best friends betrayed him to the authorities. He was arrested on false charges and beaten. He died a horrible, humiliating death. And worst of all, while He was dying on the cross, He felt completely forsaken by God. The miracles surrounding Jesus are only one side of the coin. The other side is full of suffering and pain. If we want to follow Jesus, we’ll experience both sides of the coin—not just one.”

  “What exactly do you mean?” Sue asked, looking startled.

  “Jesus said the servant is not above his master. Since Jesus experienced trials, temptations, and troubles, so will we. I think people get tripped up in their faith because they expect a wonderland existence in a world wracked with sin and pain. They expect the road to be smooth, and when they hit the bumps, they get mad at God. I know I did. We live in a fallen world, and we’re in a spiritual battle with evil. Denying that truth gets us into trouble and tricks us into getting angry with God when He’s the one we should be running to for shelter.”

  “That’s a sobering thought,” Sue said, biting her lip.

  “Yes, but it’s reassuring to know that although Jesus thought God had forsaken him—God hadn’t. Our feelings, and the pain we’re in, can make us feel as if we’re separated from God, but in reality He’s always right by our side. To me, it’s comforting to know that Jesus understands our confusion when bad things happen. He’s experienced grief and pain first hand.”

  Sue sighed and snuggled back into Sam’s arm. “I’m glad God’s big enough to handle our problems and our doubts as well.”

  Sam nodded. For the next several minutes, they sat in silence, sipping coffee as the sun appeared in a golden blaze above the treetops. Breaking the silence, Sam said, “Thank you for telling me about Bill. He sounds like a wonderful man.”

  “He was wonderful,” Sue whispered, turning toward him, “and Sam, so are you.”

  Sam’s breath caught as Sue brushed back a lock of hair that had tumbled down on his forehead. As she smiled, the morning sunlight seemed to intertwine with her hair, turning it into burnished gold. Her beauty seemed almost too much for him to bear, and at that moment, Sam realized that Sue had completely captured his heart. Barely breathing, he gently took her hand, and the glance that passed between them was as tangible as a gentle caress.

  * * *

  Marc yawned and rolled over on the lumpy futon in Ryan’s living room. As the morning light cast dim shadows over the furniture, he sighed. Ryan had barely spoken after the movie, and he knew he owed him an apology—he just hated admitting it. His opinion about Crystal hadn’t changed, but he shouldn’t have teased Ryan about liking her.

  Flinging back the covers, Marc rose from bed and stubbed his toe on the cupboards sitting on the floor. Stumbling back, he fell against the coffee table and knocked over a jar of nails. As the nails clattered across the floor, Marc bit back an oath and began scooping them up. The bedroom was suspiciously silent. It was obvious that Ryan was still mad. If he wasn’t, he’d be shouting out a laughing comment—after all, the nails hadn’t exactly been silent.

  Leaning down, Marc inspected the cupboards Ryan had built. Woodland animals were cunningly carved into the oak doors. He gave a silent whistle. He knew Ryan was an artist, but he hadn’t realized the extent of his talent.

  Wading through sawdust, Marc went to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. As the rich aroma filled the air, Ryan emerged from his bedroom and leaned against the table. Shifting uncomfortably, Marc rinsed a couple of mugs in the sink. He’d been hoping to ignore the situation, but seeing the anger in Ryan’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” Marc said awkwardly as he gave Ryan some coffee. “I was a jerk last night.”

  Ryan blinked and remained silent.

  “I shouldn’t have pestered you about Cris. I was angry that you didn’t want to confide in me, but you have the right to keep your personal life private.”

  Ryan blinked again and slowly smiled. “I’m sorry too. As far as Christianity goes, I have just as much to work on as you. The way I handle my anger is anything but godly.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Marc replied with a grin. “You didn’t slug me.”

  Ryan’s lips twitched. “Maybe I was afraid of your right hook.”

  As Marc laughed and poured himself a cup of coffee, Ryan dropped a sugar cube in his mug and sighed. “I need to apologize for more than bad temper. A few days ago, God told me to seek you out, but I pulled a Jonah. I unplugged my phone and avoided you like the plague.”

  “Why’d you do that?” Marc asked in a startled voice.

  “I was upset about Cris, but that’s no excuse. If I’d done what God asked, you would’ve been at my place days ago and avoided some of the trouble with Molly. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Marc replied, taking a sip of coffee. “I’m here now, and I’m grateful.”

  Ryan gave half a grin. “Grateful enough to start installing my cupboards?”

  “Don’t push it.” Marc laughed. “Those things look heavy.”

  “Why’d you think I invited you?”

  “My stellar company?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” Ryan chuckled, pushing a box of chocolate-frosted donuts toward him. “I need your brawn. I tried lifting the cupboards myself and nearly broke my back. Next time I do some carving, I’m gonna use balsa wood.”

  * * *

  Rick sat in his car and glared at the Cunningham Hotel. Nathan and Zara hadn’t been home for days and a hotel was the logical place to look for them. Unfortunately, they must’ve registered under an assumed name. The Cunningham was the last hotel on his list, and the parking lot was restricted and covered. Since he couldn’t search for their car, he’d spent hour
s watching the lobby and pool, but he hadn’t seen a trace of Nathan’s Jamaican wife.

  Rick slammed his fist against the dashboard. The Cunningham was another dead end. Revving his engine, he drove away and didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Morning light streamed into Gil’s bedroom as Twinkles and Poppa began detaching her tubes and wires. Seeing what they were doing, Gil gave a whoop. “Freedom at last!”

  “Are you sure she’s well enough to be off the monitors?” William asked anxiously.

  “Quite sure,” Twinkles assured him. “Look at her, she’s turned the corner.”

  William bit his lip. “But she’s so pale. What if—”

  “Trust me, my boy,” Poppa said gently. “I know what I’m doing.”

  As William nodded and brushed back her bangs, Gil watched as Poppa detached her IV. Suddenly, she blinked. “Poppa, have we met before?”

  The old man smiled. “You were the best waitress I ever had.”

  Gil squealed and turned to William. “Poppa’s the mystery man who gave me my scholarship to NSU!”

  “I didn’t know that,” William said, adjusting her blanket and offering her some water.

  “Stop hovering like a worried old granny, and I’ll tell you all about it!”

  As William chucked and sat beside her, she said, “You know my parents died my senior year of high school, but what you don’t know is that after their funeral our house was sold to cover debts. I didn’t have any money left for college. Any money left for anything really. I rented a grubby little apartment and waitressed at Bubba’s Bonanza to make ends meet.” She bit her lip. “Money was so tight, sometimes I had to choose between food or electricity.”

  “I’m sorry,” William said, squeezing her hand. “I didn’t know it was so hard.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not something I like to remember, but luckily it didn’t last long. One day, Poppa came into Bubba’s and ordered a Beefy Burger with fries. After he left, I cleared his table and found a cookbook with an envelope inside. A note said I could have the envelope’s contents if I promised to master all the cookbook’s recipes.”