Angela avoided any mention of Jack’s job loss, but when Rachel asked how she’d been Angela could hardly convince her long-time friend that everything was fine. Rachel prodded her, a sincere expression of concern on her face. It was too much for Angela; she began to tear up. Rachel put her arms around Angela and silently held her while Angela recovered from her sudden emotional overload.
“Sorry,” Angela said, sniffing and wiping away the last of her tears.
“Let’s go outside and we can talk about it. It’s a beautiful day out there.”
Outside the noon sun floated high in the sky, amid lazy clouds. A delicate breeze circulated crisp air, refreshing everything it touched.
The two sat down in chairs surrounding the patio table, and took a moment to admire the weather. Neither of them spoke for some time. Rachel waited patiently until Angela was ready to talk. When Angela did speak she did so with less reserve than she had done with Jack. She began by telling about the experience she had the previous morning, her conversation with Jack, and her effort to mend the wounds she had inflicted on Jack after Lily’s death. Rachel listened without interrupting. Angela expressed how good—how right—it had felt to forgive Jack.
“But,” she said, “I don’t know what to think about God anymore.”
This was not a statement Rachel expected to hear. And all she could think to say was, “Do you not believe He exists?”
“No, I believe He exists. I just don’t believe He’s the same god I used to believe in.”
“How do you see Him now?”
“I don’t know. Before Lily...before she died...I thought I knew Him. I believed in a kind and loving God, a merciful Father. I remember learning about individuals who had lost loved ones in tragic ways, and abandoned their trust in God because of it. I used to think how foolish they were. I believed if such tragedies ever happened to me, I would not let them shake my faith. Then my convictions were put to the test.
“Afterward I tried to go to Him for comfort. But all I could do was ask, ‘Why? How could you take my precious Lily?’ He never answered me.
“If Lily’s death was just a trial, a test, then I failed. It’s a nice idea to talk about God loving us and trying us for our good, until the day of the examination comes, and you discover the pain is as real as it is intense. Then it’s not a game anymore. It’s no longer theories and untried conviction.”
Angela paused, looking at the concerned face of her friend. The two of them had had similar discussions before. This time was different though. Angela acted calm, not accusatory, like she might truly want to listen to someone else. Rachel ventured to speak.
“So you don’t think God loves you?”
“That’s what I’m confused about. Two days ago I would have answered, ‘No, I don’t think God loves me,’ as juvenile as that may sound. But yesterday when I felt that Lily was happy and safe, I felt comfort like I haven’t felt before. It was too real for me to have made up. I felt it again when I saw the sunset that evening. I believe it was God, Rachel, finally showing me some signs of love. Finally, after all these years. But where has He been? Why did He leave me when I needed him most? Now to add to everything, Jack’s lost his job. And—”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Rachel said, cutting her off. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it seems like I only call you when something’s wrong.”
“I don’t care,” said Rachel frowning in disapproval. “Next time, you call me. OK?”
“Hopefully, next time I’ll be calling to tell you he has a new job.”
“How’s his job search going?”
“Terrible. Nothing thus far. He’s out right now looking into a few prospects, nothing too promising.”
“Are you guys alright, financially?”
Angela laughed a little, a slightly deranged laugh. “Things are looking a bit grim. We need to figure out something...soon. I don’t know maybe I’ll get a job flipping burgers.”
“It could be worse.”
“Could it?” Angela replied, in a more serious tone. “I suppose so. I could lose all my hair, have my teeth fall out, be bereaved of my three remaining children and have a husband with one hand on the bottle and the other on me. Sure, that would be worse.”
Rachel frowned at her exasperated friend again. “I’m sorry,” she said, softly. “But you know what I meant.”
“I know. It’s just that...well, like I said before I can’t figure out what God’s trying to do. If this is love I think I’d rather not be loved.” She sat for a moment in contemplation, searching through her feelings. “I’m grateful for what He did to help me with my loss of Lily. But it took so long before He did anything. And now with Jack’s job loss, I feel like...like I’d prefer it if God just left me alone.”
Rachel lowered her head. “I think I know how you feel. I’ve had trials that I wished He’d spared me from. And sometimes I worry what will come next. But I don’t think my fear has ever been justified—in the end. We’re not here to live without grief and pain, to live an easy and comfortable, ever-blissful life.”
“That’s not what I’m asking for. I don’t understand why my trials have to be so hard. I would take all the others happily if he’d just give me back Lily, or save us from losing our home and everything we own.”
“I know. But don’t you see? You’re looking at those ‘other challenges’ through the lens of experience. They don’t seem so bad because you have passed through much worse. He’s made you stronger than you were before.”
“But I don’t care about being strong. I want that peace and happiness God seems to always talk about, but sparingly gives.”
Rachel smiled softly. “There is only one way to have it: you have to give yourself to God, trust in Him. Peace and happiness do not exist without Him. He is Peace and Happiness, everything that’s good. You can’t create your own happiness apart from Him.”
“Well, where was His help after Lily died?”
“You felt it yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Sure, twelve years later!”
“Do you think you would have received His comfort soon after she died? He won’t force comfort upon us, just like He won’t force happiness or even obedience. His comforting embrace is ever present, but we must be willing to let it assuage our pains. Too often, I know I’m like a little child who cries inconsolably in her mother’s arms. If I would just stop crying for a moment I might feel the support that was always there.”
Angela looked up and stared at the swaying oak tree, which stood in their backyard. A red cardinal emerged from its leafy boughs, and darted across the sky.
“But why does it all have to be so hard?” she asked, with deep sincerity.
Rachel shook her head. “Only He knows the why. But I have an idea. We’re not here merely to get through life, or get it over with—which sometimes sounds nice. God has sent us here to make something of us, to make us more than we could ever dream of becoming. But He can’t do it without our consent. He’s willing to let us choose our own way. If life were a paradise why would we ever want to go back to Him? We wouldn’t even see the need for God’s help, or for the Savior. This life must hold obstacles and trials so that we can learn to rely on God, to hold His hand.”
“So,” Angela replied, “He’s sent us here just so we can learn to follow Him? What, did we not follow Him in heaven?”
Rachel waited for a moment before responding, letting her answer form clearly in her mind.
“He’s not merely playing a game with us. To say He sent us here is a bit misleading. We chose to come.”
“Well, I don’t think I would have chosen to come, if I knew how it would be.”
“But you couldn’t ever have known without experiencing it for yourself. We didn’t know what hard meant, or pain, or temptation. We knew nothing about being mortal. And somehow this experience plays a vital role in our reaching our full potential, attaining that fadeless joy.
“
I know He wouldn’t let us come here and suffer as we do if it weren’t all worth it. In the end, there’s nothing He won’t set aright. Nothing lost which He won’t restore, dead that He won’t resurrect, dull and blighted that he won’t polish until it glimmers and shines more radiantly than all the stars in the universe.”
“I like the sound of Him fixing everything,” Angela said after a few contemplative seconds. “It would be nice if He did that now, though.”
“I know. He will do some. His hand is in your life more than you probably realize. It’s hard to recognize sometimes, especially when difficulties come. But when those difficult times do come, try not to push Him away. I’m sure that must break His heart. And next time, call me!”
Angela let out a little laugh and the two embraced.
“Thank you,” Angela said, a tear starting to form in her eye.
“Thank you,” Rachel said, “for talking to me.”
The two of them casually chatted a few minutes more before Rachel had to leave. As she left Violet, Rachel’s guardian, gave us a high-five, before hurrying off after Rachel. Angela waved as Rachel drove away, then closed the front door. For a moment, she stood with her hand on the door knob, a smile on her face, thinking about her conversation with Rachel. The familiar rumble of Jack’s pickup interrupted her thoughts.
I turned to Clairus. “Time to find out about Jack’s job hunt.”
IX
STORM CLOUDS
Jack returned in a somber mood. His search had not gone well. The few job leads he had looked into were a complete waste of time. Several weeks passed without any change in Jack’s employment status. By this time Angela felt a tangible burden, like a dark raincloud, ever hanging over her, waiting to release a torrent of grief. It blackened her outlook, oppressed her hope. So worried she grew that she tried something she had not attempted for several years. She prayed.
It was a rather awkward prayer, like she was trying to remember the rules for prayer (as if there were any) and didn’t know in what order to arrange the magic words. Still, it represented her recognition of her dependence on God, her realization that she needed His divine help. How I loved that prayer! She still needed work, though. She had yet to put that complete and liberating confidence in God to which Rachel had alluded.
Angela began to make prayer a daily activity. Though, it was more out of feelings of desperation than desire to commune with God. Her prayers were all one in purpose: to ask God for Jack to get a job, so that they wouldn’t lose their home.
Despite her repeated petitions, the day she had been dreading finally arrived; their next mortgage payment came due. Jack and Angela were at a loss what course to take. They had canceled their cell phones, their cable and internet services, drove the car only when necessary, and were eating scanty, unsatisfying meals. Jack even put an advertisement in the paper for his 1969 Chevrolet Camaro—a project car he’d had forever. All this helped stretch their remaining funds, but not sufficiently.
Catherine, and even Justin and Kailey, were not oblivious to their family’s plight. Although, Kailey really only noticed that dinner was never good, and complained so often that Angela finally snapped at her and so she stopped. Justin didn’t care for the food either, but mostly he worried about losing his video games. Of the three children, though, Catherine most keenly felt the significance of their family’s situation. Her precious cell phone and internet-access loss, compounded with the prospect of no new clothes left her emotionally distraught. An American girl of her age simply couldn’t be expected to survive socially without these necessities of life. She had, of course, lied to her friends about her situation. Her cruel parents had unjustly and unaccountably grounded her, indefinitely. This little fable had won her the sympathy of her peers and saved her some embarrassment. Still, on the inside, Catherine was ready to burst. And it was only a matter of time before she did.
Dark, rain-laden clouds had moved in during the early afternoon, and by mid-afternoon they released their burden on Angela’s small town with a deluge of heavy rain. Angela drove their mini-van through the dreary autumnal storm. She would have preferred to stay home on that tempestuous afternoon, reading a book, but the children needed to be picked up from school.
She picked up the two youngest first. In the short run from the protective cover of the school’s awning to the inside of the van the rain soaked Justin and Kailey so thoroughly that they looked as if they’d stood in it for an hour. The two water-logged children strapped themselves into wet seats as they buzzed with excitement about the storm. Angela failed to find anything exciting about it, especially now that most of it was now dripping all over the inside of her van. They exited the school’s circular driveway and steered their barge in the direction of the high school.
Catherine’s journey from the school’s shelter to the van was even longer. However, she possessed enough sense to hold her jacket over her head. Still, the rain swept at her from all sides and angles, so that only her hair and makeup escaped the soggy fate to which the rest of her succumbed. Catherine’s reaction to the wet and rain contrasted noticeable with her younger siblings’.
“How was your day?” Angela asked.
“Fine!” Catherine growled, as she stared out the window. Angela made no further attempt to make small talk.
Except for the clamorous rain pelting the windshield, and the windshield wipers vigorously combating the down-pour, all was silent in the van. A white jagged flame traced across the sky, followed by a crack and the grumbling of clouds.
It was Loreli who broke the gloomy silence. “I was wondering when she was going to get to this.” Then turning to me and smiling, she added, “this should be interesting.” Before I could ask her what she meant Catherine began to speak.
“Um, Mom?” Catherine began, in a much gentler tone than before.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Angela replied, acting as though Catherine had not just tried to bite off her head.
“So...I was wondering if I could go over to my friend’s house tonight.”
“Who is this friend?” Angela asked, semi-casually.
“Her name’s Josie. She’s on the soccer team with me.”
Angela didn’t know who Josie was, and it made her nervous to send her daughter off to the house of someone she didn’t know. But with a little encouragement she avoided shutting down Catherine’s operation without further inquiry.
“What do you plan to do?”
“Probably just watch a movie and hang out.”
Angela resisted the urge to ask which movie. She knew only too well how much Catherine disliked the interrogation. She asked, instead, a question she was more concerned about.
“Will Josie’s parents be there?”
“Maybe...I don’t know,” Catherine replied, her voice beginning to indicate her annoyance. This Angela took to mean the parents wouldn’t be there. It was time for the ultimate question.
“Are any of Josie’s other friends going to be there?”
“Just a few other girls from the soccer team,” Catherine said, trying to make the gathering sound small.
Angela weighed the evidence in her mind. A high school girl wants to spend Friday night with a mysterious friend. Friend’s parents will likely be absent. Some other friends might stop by. Angela concluded that more than a casual gathering of intimate friends was the design of Josie. She thought it unlikely that boys would somehow be uninvolved in the conspiracy.
She didn’t wish to bluntly accuse Catherine of not telling her everything or flat-out forbid her to go. But she certainly didn’t want to send her daughter to her first unchaperoned party. Her first—she hoped—high school party.
“Well,” Angela began cautiously, “I think I’d like to meet Josie first, or at least talk to her parents.”
Catherine let out an agitated humph. “So, basically you’re saying I can’t go, right?”
“I’m not saying that. I’d just like to talk with the parents first.”
“You mean you
don’t trust me,” Catherine snapped back.
“That’s not true,” Angela said, stretching the truth a bit, “I just worry about you going off to someone’s house I don’t know.”
“Why won’t you let me grow up!”
“Catherine, sweetheart, you’re only fifteen.”
“Almost sixteen,” Catherine correct.
“You’re birthday’s still several months away. And besides, sixteen is still far from grown-up.”
“Well, most sixteen-year-olds have their own car and can go out whenever they want.”
“Not all kids your age have their own car.”
“Well it doesn’t matter,” snorted Catherine, crossing her arms and glaring forward into the darkness outside, “I’ll never have my own car...now that we’re poor. I don’t even have my own cell.” She finished with a mutter.
“We’re not poor, Catherine,” Angela said, as if exasperated from revisiting this topic. “Many people have a lot less than we have.”
“Well, pretty soon we’re not going to have anything. Dad hasn’t found another job. And I don’t think he’s going to. They’re going to take away our house and cars—everything. We’re going to end up on the street.”
Little Kailey interrupted the conversation. “Why are they going to take away our house?” she asked with a worry in her voice. “They won’t take my bicycle will they?”
“No one is going to take your bicycle, honey,” Angela reassured her. Then in a lower, but threatening tone, “You need to cut out this nonsense right now, Catherine!”
“What nonsense? It’s all true. We’re poor, and I hate it!”
“That’s enough! We can talk about this more at home.”
Diary of an Angel Page 7
