One Sunday at a Time

by E. N. Joy

  Deborah didn’t recognize the voice. Suddenly the white light was no more. She saw spots, and then the blurry image before her began to transform into a clear image. Deborah looked to the left and then looked to the right. She saw machines. She saw IV bags pumping something into her arms. She looked down and realized she was in a hospital bed. She went to sit up but then realized she was being restrained.

  Oh, Lord. Had she been arrested again? The last time she’d been restrained in a hospital bed was the night she had to get stitches put in her head.

  Deborah tried to move her arms. When she looked down, she realized that this time it wasn’t handcuffs that were restraining her, but instead some pockets attached to the bed through which her arms had been weaved.

  “Relax,” said the woman who had been shining a white light in her eyes. “These are so that when you woke up, you didn’t freak out and try to pull the IVs out or anything. Okay? Plus, we didn’t want you to try to hurt yourself again. Okay?”

  Deborah looked at the smiling nurse. She looked like she was really there to help Deborah, not like that Ms. Folins. Deborah nodded.

  “Good,” the nurse said. “Now, let me finish taking your vitals, and then I’ll go get the doctor to come talk to you, okay, Deborah? You don’t mind if I call you Deborah, do you? It’s such a pretty name. Comes from the Bible, right? She was the first judge, or first female judge?”

  Deborah nodded again.

  “Yay. I was right.” She then leaned down and said to Deborah, “I don’t know a whole lot about church and the Bible, but what I do know is that taking a bottle of pills is not the way to get to heaven.” The nurse winked, then left the room.

  Deborah lay there, feeling really surreal at that moment. Then embarrassment took over. What in the world was she going to tell people when they learned that she’d tried to end her own life? What would Lynox say? Dear God, what would her kids say? How would she explain to them that she didn’t try to kill herself because they weren’t enough for her to live for, but because she couldn’t live without them?

  Watching Lynox leave that bedroom, hearing that front door slam shut, and seeing him drive out of the driveway had pushed Deborah over the edge. She had lost everything, not just her mind, but her husband and her children too. Those were the only people she’d lived for, and since they were gone, she had no reason to live.

  Perhaps going back to counseling and taking pills would have ultimately helped Deborah, but she hadn’t thought she’d be able to bear the process of doing it without her family by her side. She’d been in mental pain, which had turned into physical pain. Her mind had hurt; her body had hurt. She’d just wanted the pain to end. So she’d ended it, or so she’d thought.

  “Mrs. Chase. It’s good to see you awake,” the doctor said as she entered the room. “You had us worried there for a minute.”

  “Us?” Deborah questioned.

  “Of course,” the doctor said as she began removing the restraints from Deborah’s arms. “There are a lot of people who love you and care about you. You scared quite a few people. But everyone is glad you are okay.”

  Deborah watched the doctor free one arm and then the other. She rubbed her arms, and then she spoke. “Who? Who found me?” Deborah asked.

  The doctor pulled Deborah’s folder from where she had it tucked under her arm. She opened it and then read through it. “Margie. Your pastor, I believe. She’s actually waiting to see you, if that’s all right.”

  “Lynox? My husband. Is he here?”

  “Um, I’m not sure,” the doctor said. “But why don’t we worry about that in a minute? Let me ask you a few questions, chat with you a second, and then I’ll let you see a familiar face. How’s that sound?”

  Deborah agreed, and for the next few minutes the doctor asked her questions about both her physical and mental health. Not wanting to bombard Deborah, she then told her she’d allow her a few minutes of visits, and she’d be back to check on her later.

  About five minutes after the doctor left, Pastor Margie entered the room. When Deborah looked into her pastor’s eyes, she couldn’t do anything but burst out crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Pastor Margie.”

  Pastor Margie immediately went to Deborah’s bedside and took her member’s hand in hers. She began praying in the spirit while Deborah cried. This went on for a couple of minutes before Deborah stopped crying and was ready to talk.

  “I’m so sorry,” Deborah said, apologizing again to her pastor.

  “You don’t have to apologize to me, Deborah. I’m so glad Lynox had called me and asked me to go see about you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be here for us to have this conversation.”

  “Lynox? Where is he?” Deborah asked. “Is he out there?”

  Pastor Margie shook her head. “No, but I did call him. Considering the whole thing with children’s services, he can’t leave the boys right now.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Staying with a friend of his. Rock. Rico. Larrock. Or something like that.” Pastor Margie couldn’t recall clearly.

  “Reo Laroque?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” Pastor Margie said. “They have a guesthouse or something they are letting them stay in. I could tell when I was talking to him on the phone that it took everything in him not to break down. But he was with the boys. He has to be strong for them.” She petted Deborah’s hand. “And you have to live for them.” She smiled. “As badly as he wants to be here, he didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to leave the boys. I promised him I’d come see about you and call to update him.”

  Deborah found some comfort in her pastor’s words. She’d figured that Lynox and the boys would go to a hotel or something. The last thing she wanted was for her boys to have to live out of a hotel. She figured if she was gone, they could all go back to the house and live happily ever after . . . without her.

  “Lynox was tore up when I had to call him. I prayed for him. Told him to keep the faith,” Pastor Margie said. “He’ll be up in the morning, once he gets Tyson to school.”

  “Okay,” Deborah replied, already getting nervous about seeing Lynox face-to-face. She was worried about what Lynox would think about her now.

  Pastor Margie could see the worry in Deborah’s eyes. “But don’t think about that right now.” She petted Deborah’s hand again.

  “Can you call him? I want to talk to him and the boys.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to bring a cell phone in here with me,” Pastor Margie said. “But there is someone else here who I think you’d love to see.”

  Deborah couldn’t fathom who else besides Jesus or her family she wanted to see more than anything right now. Then a person popped into her head. “Is it my mother?”

  Pastor Margie shook her head. She then thought for a moment. “Well, kind of, sorta.” She stood. “But I’ll let you see for yourself.” She headed over to the door. “I’m going to keep praying for you.”

  Deborah smiled and watched her pastor exit the room. No sooner had Pastor Margie left the room than someone else entered it.

  “Well, if you wanted me to come all the way from Kentucky to see you, the only thing you had to do was call me. But leave it to you to be so dramatic.”

  Deborah immediately broke out crying when she saw the woman standing in the doorway. It wasn’t Deborah’s biological mother, who in fact had been in Deborah’s room before Deborah had come to. Ms. Lucas was now in the cafeteria, grabbing a bite to eat and some coffee. But the woman standing in Deborah’s room was her spiritual mother, the one assigned to mother and nurture her by God Himself.

  “Mother Doreen!” Deborah cried out in between tears.

  Mother Doreen walked over to Deborah, who couldn’t even look Mother Doreen in the eyes. Instead, she was weeping into her hands. Mother Doreen took Deborah’s head and pulled it right to her bosom. She then wasted no time doing what she’d come to do.

  She planted her hand on top of Deborah’s head and began to pray as if she had an all
-consuming fire on her tongue. “Lord, I bind up that spirit of suicide right now, in the name of Jesus. We’re not going to play with it today, O God. I’m coming straight to the throne with Holy Ghost boldness, demanding that you hear my prayer and act on it. God, your Word says that the prayers of the righteous availeth much. Well, I haven’t been righteous all my life, but you changed me, Lord. You picked me up and cleaned me up with the very blood of your Son, who is blameless, spotless, blemish free, and sinless. I’ve lived it, and I’ve walked in it. I’m not perfect, but, dear Lord, I stand here before you today holy and righteous. I can honestly say that I present this body to you holy and acceptable. So, Father God, I trust that your Word will not come back void and that you will hear my prayer and it shall avail.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” Deborah said between tears.

  “God, I ask that from this point on, Deborah is about your business. Let her not be like the man in the field that was left behind. Yes, he was busy, but not about your business. The man next to him that you took, Lord, the man you welcomed into the Kingdom, was busy with the business of the spirit. Let her not be so overwhelmed in life with things that bear no witness or fruit to you, dear God. Let her not operate out of fear of poverty, for financial gain, but consume her with the works of you, God. Take her mind back to when she first was on fire for you, Lord. Take her mind back to when she was a child, for we know that it’s easier to train a child than to fix a broken man. But we know you can do it all, Lord.”

  “Yes, Lord, do it,” Deborah cried out. “Train me. Fix me. Have your way.” This was the closest to, and the most focused on, God that Deborah had been in a long time. Too bad it had taken getting her into a hospital psych ward to achieve such a feat. But God would break a person all the way down to get them to see that they needed fixing and that Jesus was the answer.

  “God, I know with this prayer you are going to have to shut off some things in Deborah’s life. But don’t let her fret. Don’t let her lose her mind over the stuff you are going to shut off, God, because she is going to need her mind for the stuff you turn on.”

  “Keep my mind.” Deborah wanted God to know that she was a part of the prayer. She was cosigning everything Mother Doreen had to say on her behalf.

  “God, I know Deborah is going through a storm right now and has gone through one. Give her the patience of Job to wait on you, God. Let her know that even if you don’t take her out of the storm right now, you will give her the power and the resources to get through it. And, God, we know your resources never run dry.”

  Deborah raised her hands and continued sobbing.

  “Right now, God, you have asked the woman of God to sacrifice her children unto you. But let her see that like with Abraham, you only want to see how far she is willing to go in your obedience and sacrifice.”

  “Yes, Jesus, my babies.” That last part of Mother Doreen’s prayer really stirred up something in Deborah. She was no longer looking at children’s services removing her children from her home as a punishment from God, but instead as her sacrificing them to God. She had to look at this thing from the spiritual perspective. And the same way God had allowed Abraham to keep his son, she would be able to keep hers and would give them the peaceful life they deserved.

  “Let this time be a time for Deborah to separate herself from the world while she saturates herself with your Word. The success of the devil is based on the ignorance of your Word, O God, so fill her up,” Mother Doreen continued. “Lord, fill her with the spirit of the fruit of temperance, which is self-control. Increase her power, because you have to have power to have patience to wait on the Lord. Whatever man serves will control Him, so let her serve only you, God.”

  Deborah nodded.

  “So we rebuke that jezebel spirit of control right now in the name of Jesus,” Mother Doreen said. “Father God, we know that everything we are praying for will come to pass, because as long as we pray according to your Word, we are praying according to your will. So, Lord, we say this prayer in the name of your Son and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Deborah said, closing her eyes as tears seeped out.

  There was such a peace in the room that Mother Doreen began to pray softly in tongues. Deborah joined in. Being of one accord, the two women ceased their prayers.

  Deborah opened her eyes. “You’re like my Superwoman,” Deborah told Mother Doreen. “Every time Lois Lane is in trouble, there you are.”

  Mother Doreen laughed. “I’m not Superwoman, but I am a woman of God who is always on assignment to do God’s will.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I keep making you have to come all the way from your home in Kentucky to see about me.”

  “Well, don’t feel too bad,” Mother Doreen said. “I was actually already headed to Malvonia.”

  “Really?” Deborah asked. “What brought you here?”

  “Oh, that pastor of yours,” Mother Doreen said. “I can’t speak on it right now, but, oh, you’ll find out about it soon enough . . . you and the rest of the world.”

  By the way Mother Doreen was talking, it sounded like something juicy was going down. But the last thing Deborah needed to concern herself with was somebody else’s business. Nope, she was going to be all about her own and God’s.

  “Thank you so much for your prayers, Mother Doreen,” Deborah said. She looked downward as tears began to fall from her eyes.

  Mother Doreen handed her a tissue.

  “I truly feel as if my mind is renewed and that God will heal me.” Deborah began wiping her eyes.

  “God has already healed you, daughter. He told me that on my drive here,” Mother Doreen said, believing her very words to the fullest. “You need to walk in it. Walk in your healing and walk in your deliverance. Need I remind you that Second Corinthians five-seventeen says, ‘Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’” Mother Doreen pointed at Deborah. “The spirit in you is renewed. It’s re-created in Christ. Retrain yourself according to your spirit of Christ instead of your old self and traits.”

  Deborah nodded. “Thank you for helping me see that.”

  “Your help will always cometh from the Lord, but the Lord puts people and sources right here on earth to help us.” Mother Doreen put her hands on her hips and said in her sister girlfriend voice, “Now, walk in that healing and deliverance by going and finding yourself a good shrink.”

  Deborah’s mouth dropped. “What?”

  “You heard me,” Mother Doreen said. “Black folks and church folks better recognize something.” She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “There is nothing wrong with prayer, fasting, and speaking healing over one’s life, and there is also nothing wrong with therapy.”

  “I hear you,” Deborah agreed.

  “And relax a little and enjoy life,” Mother Doreen said to Deborah. “Nobody ever makes it out alive, anyway.”

  Deborah smiled.

  “But let God be the one who decides when it’s time for you to go out. You hear me?”

  Deborah exhaled and nodded. “Yes, Mother Doreen. I hear you. But sometimes I feel like I’m going to lose control.”

  “Good!” Mother Doreen exclaimed. “Because when you finally lose control, maybe God can finally take control.”

  “You just preached right there,” Deborah said, putting up her hand and shaking her head.

  “Good. Now, let me get on out of here so that your mother can get back in here to see you now that you’re awake,” Mother Doreen said. “She was in here earlier, you know.”

  Deborah didn’t know. She’d been too out of it.

  “I have faith that you can do this, Deborah,” Mother Doreen said. “But I have more faith that God is going to help you do it.”

  “I believe your words, and I receive them, Mother Doreen,” Deborah said. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of failing again.”

  “God will never set you up for failure. But He will set yo
u up to learn from your failure. Have you learned from your failure?” Mother Doreen asked.

  “I have.” And Deborah meant that.

  “Then you already know what failure looks like. Now go get the victory.”

  “I’ve already got it,” Deborah declared, pumping a fist in the air. “I’ve got the victory!”

  Epilogue

  It had been two weeks since Deborah’s suicide attempt. The hospital had suggested, and the courts and children’s services had ordered, that Deborah seek counseling as well as attend anger management classes. She’d hoped that when Lynox refused to be a state witness, her domestic violence case would be dismissed. It wasn’t, not completely, anyway. She ended up being charged with battery. She didn’t have to serve jail time, but she did receive one year’s probation and one hundred hours of community service, and she had to pay court and attorneys’ fees.

  Realizing that it was more convenient for Deborah to stay at the Laroques’ than for Lynox and the kids to remain there, she and Lynox switched up. Lynox and the boys returned home. Both Ms. Lucas and the Perkins pitched in to help Lynox care for the boys.

  Deborah now stood in the bathroom mirror, getting prepared for her first visit with Dr. Vanderdale since being released from the hospital. As she stood there, with lipstick, foundation, blush, mascara, eyeliner, and lip liner at her fingertips, she couldn’t help thinking about the question she’d posed to Dr. Vanderdale during her only visit with him. “I can’t help but wonder if I’m looking crazy right in the eyes,” she said aloud. What was the definition of crazy? What did crazy feel like? Could some of the feelings Deborah had experienced be categorize as crazy? Crazy couldn’t just be let go to run free. Crazy needed to be treated.

  Well, she was about to find out officially if she was crazy or not. And this time she wouldn’t jump up and exit the courtroom without getting the verdict.

  Deborah finished getting herself together, and an hour later she was thirty-five minutes into her session with Dr. Vanderdale. In speaking with Dr. Vanderdale, Deborah learned that Klarke’s layman’s assessment about her had been right. More than likely, postpartum depression had triggered Deborah’s mental condition.