by Lisa Heaton
“You should talk to somebody. You don’t have to live this way.”
“It’s all I know anymore.” She left him at the foot of the stairs, understanding how full of questions he must be. But this was hers, and there was no one who could help.
“See you for coffee.” Watching her as she moved through the doorway, he became utterly certain of why he was there. “You sent me here, Lord,” he whispered aloud.
Note from the author:
Robin thinks, “If there was a possibility of being near to God, it was here.”
In the next chapter we discover Robin has attended church all of her life – still does. Sadly, many, if not most Christian women feel similarly. That was exactly how I spent the early years of my Christian walk – or shall I say my Christian stumble? There seemed to be a distance, a gulf between God and me that I could not seem to bridge. Maybe you feel the same. You may work and serve, all in the hopes of drawing nearer, yet you still feel far from Him, at least in your heart. Walking with Jesus in a close and intimate relationship is what He desires for each and every believer. His presence is our Promised Land here on earth. I invite you to visit www.unmendingtheveil.com to download the free companion study material to go along with the novel. Click the tab titled, Study Material. The sole purpose of the study is to help lead you into a more intimate relationship with Jesus and learn to love Him with all your heart, soul, and mind.
5
Early morning, just moments after the sun peered from behind the familiar tree line, and Robin was sitting on the steps, looking out at the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chris approaching. In a sense, she felt embarrassment over what happened the night before, both flinching away from him and what he witnessed when he followed her to the dock. What could she say? There was no way to explain it to him. She barely understood what drove her actions. How could she expect him to understand?
Bounding up the stairs, when he reached where she was, he sat quietly. Noticing the second coffee cup, he smiled. Taking the cup he nudged his shoulder into hers. “Great service here.” Then, after taking a sip, he offered, “I know someone who can help, someone you can talk to about this.”
She never went back to sleep after their encounter last night. For hours she had been thinking about the things he said. When he suggested the possibility of something tragic happening, and she found it was not something that sounded so bad, that was the point when she truly comprehended how far she had fallen into fear and despair. Conceding she did not want to live the remainder of her life the way it was, she questioned if there was even hope for her. Assuming there was hope, how could she ever find her way back? Every excuse rose up and gave her reason to run from healing.
“You’ve seen my days around here. I don’t have a whole lot of free time.”
“He will speak with you here.”
“I could never afford that.”
“He’s really cheap. As a matter of fact, he does a lot of free counseling at my church.”
“He would drive two hours? Why would he do that for someone he doesn’t even know?”
“As a favor to me. We’re pretty tight.” He outmaneuvered her every attempt to avoid it and was prepared for every excuse. “One session, that’s all you have to do. If you think it helps, great. If not, then at least you gave it a try.”
“Let me think about it.”
“Sure. Just let me know.” Surprised by her semi-willingness, and fearing she might talk herself out of it, he felt it best to change the subject entirely, so he told her, “I think I’ll take a boat out again today.”
“What do you paint while you are out there?”
“Anything. Everything. My time is running out, and I want to capture everything I can while I can.”
“You are here for another month and a half.”
“I know. It seems to be flying by, though.”
“Summer is like that.”
“Yeah. Time flies by,” he said thoughtfully.
Emma was in the kitchen watching Robin and Chris on the stairs. Smiling to herself, she hoped this could be a new beginning for her. More than anything, she wanted to see her happy. When Robin stood and came toward the house, Emma quickly moved away from the window, not wanting Robin to feel self-conscience. She poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, trying to act casual.
“Morning.” Robin dreaded the probing questions that were sure to come.
Smiling sympathetically, Emma noticed how her eyes seemed weak and heavy. “You look sleepy.”
Pulling a twenty from her pocket, Robin laid it on the counter. “For Tommy and Becky.” Hesitating a minute more, she added, “I’m sorry to say, you won’t be getting the other fifty bucks. I’m just not ready.”
“Then I will never push you about dating again.” Sad for her, Emma asked, “He is a nice guy though, right?”
“He’s a great guy, and I had a good time with him. But you know how complicated things are. I need more time.”
“You take all the time you need.”
Smiling half-heartedly, Robin asked, “So, where’s my fifty bucks?”
Pushing the twenty back at her, she agreed, “I owe you the rest.”
Moving into Emma’s arms, they stood quietly embracing. The turmoil she felt inside was worse than she had known in many years. Having hoped it would get better; instead, things seemed to be getting worse. Her greatest fear was that Mike would come for her and take her back, or worse. In the state she was in, she would hardly have the strength to fight him.
She moved through the remainder of the morning as if in a fog. For much too long she had spent days like this. The terrors would come, and she would spend the final hours of the night fighting sleep, terrified the dream would pick up right where it left off. Only once did she make it all the way to the end, and that was undoubtedly worse than the continual chase, much worse.
By early afternoon, she was exhausted and went to her cabin to rest. After only half an hour of napping, she woke feeling refreshed and renewed. Sitting there on the side of her bed, she prayed her first heartfelt prayer in many years, “I don’t want to live this way anymore.” Deep inside, she felt something within her cry out for healing. She wanted it, but could she ever really find relief? Bound and gagged for so many years, could she ever find her way back? The person she once was seemed too far away. The life she previously lived, happy and secure, was surely shattered beyond repair. “I know You are there,” she whispered.
Chris had been out on the lake for the past three hours. Painting and praying, his constant thoughts were of Robin. Without any doubt, he knew she needed help, and something told him she was truly considering it. Her eyes that morning were tired and sad, full of pain, not distant pain as they usually were, but pain, terribly present at that moment. Clearly, she was as low as she could possibly be. But was that not the best place for the Lord to begin a mighty work?
Admittedly, he was intensely attracted to her. Had he not have been, he would have never asked her out to dinner in the first place. So the attraction was something to be thankful for, but greatly avoided. He felt certain God had brought him there specifically to reach out to her, and that was accomplished by the initial attraction. God was funny like that. Had Chris not been drawn to her, he would have remained within himself, concentrating on his own end.
And as another example of the genius of God, in order to keep Chris totally dependent upon Him and his mind off of his growing feelings for Robin, it would require clinging to Him and dying to self, the likes of which he had never known. God was still choosing to grow him spiritually, even so close to death. Chris knew, in order to separate his feelings and thoughts from what was best for her, it would take dependence on the Holy Spirit each and every moment he was with her. How could he not marvel at the strategic wisdom of God?
When he arrived at his cabin, Robin was sitting on the porch, rocking. Dumping his paint supplies, along with two canvases of his not-so-best work, he joined
her in the other chair.
Without looking at him, she asked, “Do you really think he can help?”
“I don’t know about him, but I do know he will lead you to the one place you can find some rest.”
“Where?”
“To God. I know him well enough to know that is where he will take you and your broken spirit. I also can tell you that healing can be found no other place. If you will go to Jesus, it will get better. Maybe slowly, but it will eventually.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yes. He will be here tomorrow. Is there any particular time that is best for you?”
“Lunchtime, I suppose. That way I won’t feel the need to explain my absence.”
“You mean to Emma?”
“No. I will tell Emma. But I would rather not discuss it with anyone else.”
“You shouldn’t have to. This is between you and God and whatever you decide to tell the counselor.”
“Chris…” She sat for a moment trying to collect her thoughts. How could she say what she felt without it sounding as bad as it no doubt would sound? “I don’t know the way to God anymore. I used to, but I haven’t in a very long time.” No one knew that. She had been a tremendous pretender.
“I know that.” He had anticipated this conversation and knew his observations about her would likely swell up a defensiveness in her that might prevent any further openness. “At the risk of offending you, I will tell you the way I see it. Since I have been here, you have left for church on two Sundays, and it seems less productive or beneficial than if you were going to the grocery store. At least from the store, you would bring back a sack of food, something of value, something to nourish you. Instead, you are practicing religious routines. You leave and come home empty handed.”
She was silent, and he was unsure of how much more he should say. When feeling the boldness to continue, he asked, “Have you always gone to church?”
“Yes.”
“Has it always been as it is now?”
“No.”
“There is routine and there is relationship. The reason I know yours is routine is simple, really. Watching you jump in the water and swim, witnessing your apathy about your own safety, I understand the hidden meaning behind it; you want relief even if it is in the form of death. These things witness to your routine. You cannot be in a close and intimate relationship with Jesus Christ and remain so tormented. I say this because I have experienced the same thing in varying degrees. And I have thought long and hard about it.” Pausing for a second, he wondered if he could possibly express his thoughts in a way that might make sense to anyone but him. “I have never articulated this, so cut me some slack in the presentation of it.” Her smile prompted him to continue. “There is no such thing as darkness. In actuality, darkness is the absence of light. Make sense so far?”
Nodding, she indicated it did.
“Similarly, chaos and torment are the absence of peace. The absence of peace means you have somehow stepped away from God. And make no mistake, He will never leave you nor forsake you, so absence means you have moved, if you are a believer, that is. For non-believers, chaos and torment is their natural state, parenthetically speaking, of course. They can never know the peace we are offered.” He looked at her, and the way she looked back caused him to momentarily stumble with the words. Trying to ignore what her eyes did to him, he went on. “He is not the author of confusion. So anytime you feel that kind of commotion in your mind or in your heart, you have to determine what step you took away, or steps in cases where you feel far, far away. He is the Prince of Peace. He came to set the prisoners free. When you are in a close relationship with Him, you are free from that kind of turmoil. And you, Robin, are anything but free.”
Amazed by his correct estimation, she said nothing in reply. Standing, she moved to the stairs. Hesitating on the bottom step, she asked, “Here, at noon?”
“Yep.”
To her surprise, Robin had a restful night of sleep. As she was soon to be in the process of churning up muddy waters, she anticipated a difficult night, but it was, thankfully, a night of rest. Sitting on the stairs, she wondered if Chris would come again. She brought coffee for him just in case. Within seconds of that thought, she saw him appear from behind the small row of trees leading from the cabins.
When he sat beside her, he thanked her for the coffee. After a minute of awkwardness, he admitted, “After the things I said yesterday, I was not so sure I would be welcome this morning.”
“You were right in everything you said.”
“I thought about this all last night. You know what I’ve come up with?”
“What?”
“You’ve mended the veil.”
Thinking for a moment, trying to figure out what his words meant, she finally gave up. “What does that mean?”
“When Christ died on the cross, the Temple veil was torn.” Unsure of how much she had learned over the years, he determined going back to the basics might be helpful. “When you asked Him to come into your life and forgive you, from that point forward, you have had complete access to God. He died to offer you that. When you pray, you don’t have to toss words up into the air and hope He catches them. You can sit right here with Him and simply talk.” Patting the stone beside him, he suggested, “Here, every morning, He will sit with you. Standing out on that dock, He stands with you. Talk like you would to Emma or to me.”
He considered how he used to pray versus his current way and hoped to give her a “for instance” that would make sense. “This morning for example, I said, ‘Lord, Robin is in a mess, and I need the words to lead her to You.’ I didn’t use a whole bunch of churchy words. I talked to Him. Or, maybe I will say, ‘What do You think about this or that?’ Then I wait and listen for Him to tell me. Mostly, He responds through His Word. Sometimes, He speaks into my heart. But always, always He answers, even when it is not what I want to hear. Honestly, a lot of times it is not what I want to hear. But still, He speaks.”
This concept was foreign to her. Never, even before turning from Him had she prayed in such a way. If she had to explain what she experienced when praying, it was more like slipping words into a balloon, filling it with helium, and releasing it into the atmosphere in the hopes it would reach the right destination. When it mattered most, her balloon obviously missed heaven.
“All believers have this same access, and many of us use it. Some people, however, those who have been hurt or experience tremendous loss, spend their lives trying to mend the veil. What I mean by that is they build some sort of self-imposed wall between themselves and God. For many believers, this process may happen inadvertently and over time, stemming from doubt that God is active in the lives of believers, doubt that He is close, or doubt that He cares. Stitch by stitch, they recreate the veil in their own hearts.”
With his words she grasped a truth that she could have never identified on her own. What he said was an accurate description of what had happened to her over the past years. More than six years had passed since she was willing to look at God. That exact moment was burned so vividly into her mind, and so engraved into her heart, she could feel the weight of it in her chest still. She had intentionally stepped away from Him. From the reasons he suggested, in her case it was all of the above: hurt and loss definitely, but mostly, she was convinced He did not care. Had He not proven it?
Chris could see how intently she listened, certain his words were ringing true he continued on. “With the wall in place, they mistakenly believe God doesn’t see them, or probably more accurately, they are hoping not to see Him. In this way they run from His presence rather than run into it. They live out the Christian experience missing the One they really need, Jesus. It becomes a lifetime filled with ritual and routine, but never a relationship with Him.”
“I have never heard anything like this before.”
“This is something I have pondered over for years.”
“Obviously!” His thinking was so profound sh
e could hardly imagine how she missed his depth before. Then again, she had made it such a point of keeping him at arm’s length, that a conversation at this level was all but impossible.
“In my case, I realized that I could not reconcile what I read of the God of the Bible with what I was seeing in the world and experiencing in my life. Doubting He was active in the lives of everyday people like me, I just installed a zipper, closed the veil, and went through the religious motions. That got me nowhere but miserable and defeated. Eventually, I realized I was seeing other people with what seemed to be a real relationship with Jesus, and I wanted that.”
“What you said about stitch by stitch, that was probably more my case.”
“That’s what you need to talk about then, your stitches. Exposing them to Him will begin the process of unraveling them. Until that veil is unmended, you can never be close and intimate with Jesus. Until you choose to move back into Him, you will never know the peace and freedom He offers.”
“I am scared to talk about it. It terrifies me to relive it.”
“There is a verse that comes to mind, it’s about God being a candle shining a light into darkness. I’ll have to look that up for you. But basically, what I get from it is that you have to allow those things into the light and He will show you the way. He can heal them then. But if you keep them bottled up, you will keep swimming in dark waters.” He grinned at his pun.
“I don’t want to swim there anymore.”
“I know, and you are doing something about it. You have agreed to get help. You are choosing to move back where you belong, in His presence.”
