And then I knew—somehow deep inside me I knew—it was God. Its like He was trying to get my attention. And although I had no idea why this would be happening to me, I knew without doubt that I wanted to listen. And so I actually got on my knees. Right there on the wood plank floor, I knelt down and closed my eyes and I waited.
Now I know this might sound hokey or phony or just plain bizarre, and I'm not even sure that I want to tell anyone about all the details yet, besides writing them in my diary, but I felt as if God reached down in that very moment and just touched me, right on the top of my head. There was this hot feeling, almost like electricity, that ran right through me. And somehow I knew that it really was God, that He was touching me. And somehow I knew, and I totally believe, that He was empowering me. Just like that.
I stayed on my knees for a while, just thanking God and praising Him for whatever it was He was doing, and finally I knew it was time to stand up. So I opened my eyes and looked around, but everything in my room seemed the same as before. Everything in its proper place. The only thing that seemed different was me.
I felt this rush of hope and excitement, like I was on the verge of something powerful and wonderful—a crossroads of sorts. And for the first time since accepting Christ last fall, I felt like I really had God's power running through me, bolstering me up. Did that mean I could do miracles, like moving mountains or making blind men see? Well, I don't know about that. But I felt like whatever kind of power He was giving me, it was going to be life changing. And perhaps even more important, I realized that God would be the One in control. Not me. This wasn't up to me. And that was an enormous relief.
So then I unzipped my carry-on bag and pulled out the Bible I'd already packed. I could remember reading the part where Jesus' disciples had been waiting for Him to reappear after He'd risen from the dead. I knew it was in the New Testament, as I recalled it came directly after the gospels.
I finally found what I was looking for in the first two chapters of Acts. And as I read about the people gathered together, just praying and waiting, I could understand (in a small way) what was happening. And I could relate to how God's power, His Holy Spirit, just swept through that place and how everyone in there was changed—and empowered. It made perfect sense to me. And I believe that God has filled me with His Holy Spirit—in much the same way.
Okay, I haven't discovered any ability to speak in a foreign language, but I'm open. Mostly I just know that God is REAL, that He is changing me, and that He's going to do something amazing in my life. I just know it. And best of all is that HE'S going to do it. Not me. This isn't up to me. I just need to be ready, to be listening, to be available. And I think I can do that. I really do.
Seventeen
Saturday, July 6
I was flying high when the plane took off from Naples this morning.
“You sure look happy today, Kim,” Uncle Garth had commented as he drove us, speeding again, to the airport. “You must be glad to be going home.”
“That's not it,” I told him and Grandma.
“What is it then?” Grandma asked from the backseat.
“Well, I'm sure part of it is because I've had such a great visit here. But I also feel excited about what God is doing in my life.”
“What s He doing?” Uncle Garth asked as he passed a farm truck.
“I'm not totally sure,” I admitted. “But I just have a feeling that He's got some really great things ahead for me.”
“I'm sure you're right,” said Grandma. “I think God has big plans for you, Kmmy I'm just so glad that you got to come out here and see us for a spell. And I hope you'll keep in touch. Almost makes me want to get a computer like you use to send that electric mail.”
I laughed. “E-mail. Well, don't worry. I can write real letters too. And I promise that I will.”
“Good,” said Grandma. “I reckon I'm too old to figure out these modem contraptions anyway. And I do love getting letters in the mail.”
I hugged them and thanked them at the front door to the airport. “You don't need to come inside. I'll be just fine.”
“Such a grown-up young lady,” Grandma said as she pinched my cheek. “Can't say I fattened you up any. But your color is good.”
“Thanks.”
“Get that package from the trunk,” Grandma said suddenly. “I almost forgot.”
Uncle Garth ran to the back of the car and returned with a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string.
“What is it?” I asked as I tucked the soft package under my arm.
“The crazy quilt,” she told me. “I wanted you to have it—something to remember us by.”
Then, waving at them, I took my bags and went inside. And I guess I wasn't surprised to discover that my face was wet. I'd obviously been crying.
I felt amazingly calm and relaxed as I waited in the check-in line and went through security and then finally boarded my plane, which was nearly an hour late in taking off. I knew this might mess me up on my next flight, and yet I wasn't concerned about this. I honestly believe this was due to what God is doing in me. Its like I have this new confidence—a deep peace—like I really believe that God is in control and that I'm going to be okay
That doesn't mean I think my life is going to be perfect. I don't imagine that I'll be floating on clouds or walking on sunshine. Although I suppose that part of me would like it to be like that. But I have this strong suspicion that will not be the case. And that's okay.
I was running late when I got off my flight to switch planes in Orlando. And when I discovered the gate I needed to get to was quite a ways away, I decided to run. Maybe God had delayed that flight and I was going to make it. But by the time I reached the gate, the plane had already taken off. The woman at the gate rearranged my ticket, which meant I now had a layover of nearly three hours.
Okay, I admit I felt a little dismayed. What was I supposed to do for that long in the Orlando airport? Now if the delay had been really long, like eight hours, I might Ve been tempted to go to Disney World. I had just gotten a frozen yogurt when I heard someone yelling my name.
I looked across the concourse and saw Allie Curtis waving frantically from the moving walkway. I couldn't believe it! Was it possible that their rock band, Redemption, was performing around here? I hurried to catch her, jogging alongside the walkway as I tried to keep up.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I'm on my way home. I was visiting my grandma down near Naples. What are you doing here?”
“We just got here. I forgot this,” she held up a backpack, “on the plane so I had to run back and get it. The others are waiting for me at Starbucks.” The moving walkway ended, and she hopped off and grabbed me by the hand. “Come on down here and say hi, Km. Have you got time?”
Already we were on the next moving walkway. “Yeah,” I told her, catching my breath. “I've got almost three hours to kill.”
“Cool.”
Before I knew it we were all sitting at Starbucks— Chloe, Allie, and Laura and I. It was so awesome.
“The others went to pick up our bags and the car,” Chloe explained. “We've got a concert at the Christian book convention tonight.”
“I can't believe I'm seeing you guys,” I said, still astonished. “It has to be a God-thing.”
So we sat and talked for a few minutes, then Allie and Laura decided to run over to the sunglasses shop since Allie had broken her favorite pair of shades. “We'll be right back,” they said.
And then, I'm not quite sure why, I proceeded to tell Chloe about what had happened to me last night. And she just nodded and smiled.
“I know exactly what you mean,” she said after I finished. “That is so cool, Km.”
“So, do you think its what I think? I mean, the part about the Holy Spirit?”
She nodded. “I'm sure it is.”
“That's so amazing.” I laughed. “And then meeting you guys here. Its like God is so in control.”
“But let me warn you about something.”
“Yeah?”
“While it's totally cool to feel like that—like you're high as a kite but without using drugs—you need to remember that the feeling won't always be there like that.”
“I sort of thought about that. I mean, I've always been such a realist.”
Chloe laughed. “You and me both.”
“So what happens then?”
“It's just like life—you have your ups and downs, but you know that God is still with you, He's still in control. And that sustains you.”
Then Allie and Laura came back, both sporting some pretty cool shades. “They have everything over there,” Allie told us. “You should check it out, Km.”
“Well, I've got plenty of time for that.”
“Speaking of time,” Laura said, looking at her watch. “The limo is probably waiting for us.”
So we all hugged. But before they left, Chloe reached into her bag. “Hey, I just read this C. S. Lewis book, Kim. You want it for the trip home?”
“Sure.” I reached for the smallish book, thinking I'd probably have it read before my flight even took off.
“Its a lot heavier than it looks,” Chloe said. “But I think you'll get it.”
And so I went back to my gate and started reading “The Screwtape Letters.” And it is totally unlike anything I've ever read before. But Chloe was right on. I am definitely getting it. And I'm trying to read it slowly so I can take it all in. Amazing stuff. Already, I can tell that I'm going to be a C. S. Lewis fan.
I take a reading break to check my e-mail. I haven't been online since the Fourth of July celebration, and then only briefly. It looks like Matthew and his grandpa are getting tired of traveling. Matthew says they'll be home by July 20 and that he can't wait to see me. And normally I would think this was great news, but for some reason, I'm not so sure now. Still, I can think about that later.
There's also a sweet note from Dad wishing me “happy travels” and warning me that a few things have changed around the house. This has me pretty curious. I e-mail back, telling him about my delayed flight and that I'll call him later on my cell phone, in case he's not checking e-mail today.
The e-mail from Maya is hard to decipher. She sounds like she's really mad at her mom, but that she's also working on some kind of mysterious plan. My guess is she's going to go live with her dad. Although with her dad on tour, I'm not sure how that will work. Even so, I write back and encourage her to get on with her life—and not to let her mom's bad choices drag her down. I also remind her that I'm still praying for her and that I think the only way she'll ever get the direction she really needs is to come to God. He's the One with the answers.
The last e-mail is from Natalie. I had e-mailed her on Thursday to let her know I'd be home this weekend. And while she seems relieved, she also still sounds bitter, like I'm somehow to blame for her troubles. But instead of getting irritated, I just pray for her. And in my response I tell her that no matter what she does about this pregnancy, her life will never get better without God—period. Then I hit send.
I don't get home until nearly seven o'clock—four hours later than expected. Oh, well. But Dad is waiting for me down in baggage claim. He has flowers and a “Welcome Home” balloon, and I burst into tears when I see him. We hug for a long time, and it occurs to me how much I love him and how much I need him. And I'm thinking maybe he feels the same way.
“Now, I warned you about some changes at home,” he tells me as he drives away from the airport. “I hope you won't mind.”
“What kind of changes?”
“Well, I've been going to that therapy group…and one of the steps toward recovering from this is to take control. For me that meant I should remove some of the things that made me sad. I know it might sound silly, but every time I walked past the couch in the family room, I would look at it and remember your mother sitting there, feeling bad because of the cancer, and that memory would blot out the happier ones.”
“Yeah?”
“So I got rid of the couch.”
“Oh.” I'm not sure how to respond as I suddenly imagine our entire house stripped of furniture.
“Do you mind?”
I consider this. “No, I think I know what you mean. I probably have had some of those same feelings about that couch.”
“And naturally, I don't want to change everything, Kim. There are lots of things I like because they remind me of your mother and the happier times. I just needed to feel as if I had some control now. Do you understand?”
“I think I do.”
We stop to eat a late dinner on the way home. And to my surprise, Dad continues to talk about Mom and what he's doing to get through the grieving process.
“I realize you can't rush these things. But it does no good to put them off either. There is a way to recover, and I'm working toward that.”
“I'm so glad for you, Dad.”
“I went through her personal things last week, Km. I'm keeping the items that have meaning for me, and I thought maybe you'd want to go through them too. And then we can donate what's left to the Salvation Army.”
I nod. “Yeah, that's probably good.” Still, the idea of going through Mom's personal stuff is a little unsettling. It makes everything seem so final. Not that it isn't final, but I guess I've been putting it off too.
Anyway, I try not to act too surprised when I get home and see that some things are gone. I'm not even sure why it was that Dad got rid of certain things and kept others. But I guess I'm okay with it. And after I get over the shock of seeing some bare spots, I think Dad is right. It's like we really do need a new beginning.
“I know you're probably worn out from traveling,” Dad says after I have a chance to look around. “But maybe you'd like to go furniture shopping with me tomorrow. I'm sure I could use some help.”
“Sure,” I tell him. “Is after church okay?”
He nods. “And I've gone back to church too, Km. You were right; I needed that more than I realized.”
“Good for you, Dad.”
“And I feel close to your mom when I'm there. I think it makes her happy too.”
“I'm sure it does.” I consider telling Dad about my own incredible spiritual experience last night, but I'm just not sure if it's the right time. I don't want to overwhelm him. I'd also like to talk to him about the situation with his birth dad too, but I think that will be a timing thing as well. In the meantime, I think it's okay to just wait.
“It's good to have you home, sweetie.” He gives me another hug.
And even though I miss some things about Grandma s house, I'm really glad to be home too. It feels pretty good to put my things in my room. I arrange some of the pretty shells I found on my dresser and bedside table, and I stick some of my better photos on my bulletin board. I plan to have some of them enlarged and framed later on down the line. And then when I finally put Grandmas crazy quilt on my bed, it feels just like home.
I consider calling Natalie but decide it can wait. It feels later than it actually is, but it s probably because I'm still on Florida time. Finally, I answer some letters before I fall asleep.
Dear Jamie,
My dad died when I was three, and it was just Mom and me for the next ten years. Then “John* came into the picture. They dated for a while, then Mom married him last year. The problem is, he thinks he's the boss of me now. And he makes all these rules that I think are totally stupid. Ifs like all he wants to do is get me into trouble so he can yell at me. I hate being yelled at. And I hate being grounded (like I am right now). Sometimes I want to kill this man. Or maybe I should just run away. What should I do?
Desperate Daughter
Dear DD
I'm sure that must be very hard for you. And neither of your options (killing him or running away) will solve your problems. I suggest you talk to your mom. Tell her how you are feeling. Ask her if there's some way she can step in and straighten this guy out The way I see it, she's your mom a
nd she should be the one who deals with you. if this doesn't work, maybe you should ask your mom and stepdad to join you in meeting with a good family counselor. Good luck.
Just Jamie
Eighteen
Thursday, July 11
It felt like Natalie and I were having a standoff again. She assumed that since I came home, I would be willing to take her in to get an abortion. And when I told her I couldn't do that, she got mad. But instead of getting mad back at her, I told her that I wanted to be supportive of her, I wanted to help her through this pregnancy, and that I would be her friend no matter what. Of course, this only seemed to make her angrier.
“So you're saying that you're okay hanging with me when my belly is sticking out to here.” She held her arms in a wide circle for a visual aid.
“Yeah,” I told her.
“You're not the least bit embarrassed to go to the mall, youth group, school, whatever…with a big, fat pregnant best friend?”
I considered this. To be honest, I might feel somewhat embarrassed. “Okay, I might be a little uncomfortable at first. But after I got used to—”
“Well, don't worry,” she snapped. “You won't need to get used to it, Km. I'm not having this baby.”
“How far along are you now?”
“Three months.” She leaned back on the new leather sofa that Dad and I picked out on Sunday and folded her arms across her chest (which has become bigger since I've been gone).
“And you still won't tell anyone?”
She just glared at me.
“Not even a counselor?”
More glaring.
“Well.” I stood up now. “I think this is wrong.”
“What?”
“You keeping this to yourself. I think Ben has a right to know, and I think your mom has a right to know.”
“It's my body.”
“But it's Ben's baby. And you are your mother's daughter. And what if you get an abortion and something goes wrong, and there are complications? You think your mom won't find out then? And how's that going to make her feel?”
Falling Up Page 14
