by T. K. Chapin
She stopped and looked over at me, then at the picture in my hands. “I spoke to his mother at the funeral, but outside of that, No. Not really.”
“Did his mom say how he was doing?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t ask.”
“I think I’m going to meet up with him. Do you have his or his mom’s number?”
“Yeah. I have his.” She set the plate down and went over to her purse in the living room. As she dug through the purse she asked, “What are you planning to do?”
“Just want to sit down with the kid and let him know I don’t blame him for what happened. Ya know?”
She nodded. Pulling out a piece of paper, she came over to me in the kitchen and gave it to me. “That’s a good idea.”
“I think so too.”
Heading back out to the garage, I texted him and set up a time to meet for coffee. He was working a new job at a gas station, but he would be off around five, so we planned on six at a coffee shop downtown.
Almost not recognizing the kid when I arrived at the coffee shop, I walked over to his table and sat down. He looked sad and had a sense of hopelessness in his eyes. “Hey, Mr. Freeman,” he said, fidgeting with his cup of coffee in between his hands on the table.
“Austin . . . What happened to you?”
He shook his head and set the cup down, looking away. A tear came out of the corner of his eye and he tightened his jaw. Looking back at me, he said, “I’m not doing so hot.”
“Why?”
“I could have done something differently. Could have never met her and she’d be alive. Maybe, um . . . I could have told her not to leave your house.” He looked down at his cup and picked it back up.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s entirely my fault! I was driving that night!” he slammed his cup down and the coffee shop went silent for a moment as they looked at us.
The crowd turned their attention back to their own activities after a moment and I leaned across the table. “It was her time, Austin. You have to understand that it was nobody’s fault.”
“I saw you at the funeral. You looked mad, sad and destroyed.”
I leaned back in my seat and shrugged. “I was mad, but not at you. I was mad with God for taking my little girl.”
He scoffed and shook his head. “You’re not anymore?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, It’s not God’s fault she died. He only allowed it happen because it was her time. She’s in heaven now.”
“Heaven.” He laughed and shook his head as he kept his eyes on the cup. “Yeah. I’m sure she’s floating in the clouds and playing a harp. Oh—And you can’t forget she’s eating grandma Pearl’s famous cookies.”
“That’s not heaven, but that’s an entirely different conversation. Look—what happened was horrible, and I do wish she hadn’t died, but we can’t stop our life because of it. She wouldn’t want any of us to be miserable, Austin.”
“I can’t be happy in this life. Ever. She was my world, Mr. Freeman!” He wiped his cheeks of tears and said, “She was the breath in my lungs, the air beneath my wings.”
“Look, Austin, you’re young.”
“That doesn’t mean our love wasn’t real, dude!”
Leaning in, I said, “I didn’t say your love with my daughter wasn’t real. I’m just saying that you’re still young. There’s a lot of life ahead of you. If you loved Jasmine as much as you’re declaring, you would want to honor her memory.”
He nodded.
“You can do that by enjoying your life. She loved the Lord and was a Biblical born-again Christian. Maybe start there and see what heaven is really about.”
He sniffed and said, “Maybe I could see her again in heaven.”
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod. “With salvation through Jesus Christ alone, you can make it to heaven and see her again someday.”
“Then we’ll be together forever.”
I shook my head. “There isn’t marriage in heaven or anything like that. But you can see her again. Just start studying, and you’ll figure it all out.”
He nodded in agreement. “You know, I’ve just spent every day since the accident wondering how I could have saved her.”
My heart burned with regret for not talking to this kid right after the accident. I just was so focused on myself and my own pain that I couldn’t even see the others that were hurting. “That’s not good.”
“I know that now. You know she applied to Eastern?” He choked up on his words as they came out. “She wanted to go to school where her dad went. She was scared to go to New Jersey. She had already applied before I met her, but she didn’t tell you guys. It was a pretty big toss-up in her mind between Rowan and Eastern.”
“Why didn’t she tell us?”
“She didn’t want to disappoint you if she didn’t get accepted.”
My eyes began to water. “She got accepted.”
“Wow.”
“She was such a sweetheart.”
He nodded in agreement. “I loved her.”
“I know you did.” Getting into an argument about how young love is dumb and blind wasn’t the type of conversation I wanted to have with the kid, so I didn’t argue with him on the affection he felt toward Jasmine. “Here’s my cellphone number,” I said, grabbing a napkin from the holder on the table. Pulling the pen from my pocket, I jotted it down and slid it over to him. “Anytime you need to chat, call me. Anytime you need a break, come see me in Ocean Shores.”
He took the napkin and put it in his pocket. “You’re moving?”
“Yep. Going to be a pastor.”
His eyebrows went up. “Wow. Looks like you’re just chugging right along.”
“It’s been a strange journey to arrive at this point. Denise and I have struggled with losing Jasmine, but God has been there for us all along the way. It’s through Him that we are able to have peace and hope.”
It looked like something clicked in Austin’s head. He said, “I want a relationship with God. Just the thought of it brings me comfort in a weird way.”
“He’s drawing you to Him, Austin.”
“But I don’t want Church and the Bible. I don’t need that stuff. I’m a good person. Plus, I don’t want the commitment.”
I could tell he wasn’t going to make a decision, at least not on that day, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to share as much information as I could about the good news. “If you want a relationship with God, you need the commitment, you need the Bible and you need the Church. The Church is a place where believers gather, and the Scriptures are God’s love letter to humanity. The commitment is bringing it all together to one. Let me ask you something, Austin. Why would you not want those?”
“Church is full of hypocrites, and the Bible is full of rules.”
Shaking my head, I said, “There are some bad churches out there, but you can’t just say you won’t go because of some bad experiences you had in life. And as for the Bible’s rules . . . they’re not in place to hurt you, but to allow the freedom and peace of living a life by design. How God designed it. The Bible isn’t just a big ancient book, it’s the written words of God Himself. If you have any desire to have a relationship with Him, reading the Bible isn’t a requirement . . . it's a necessity.”
Austin stood up and extended his hand. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Mr. Freeman.” He looked me in the eyes, and this time I saw hope.
“Take care of yourself, Austin.”
Coming in the front door, I saw William sitting on the steps that led upstairs. His head was dipped and he seemed to be bothered by something. As I shut the door behind me, I looked at him and asked, “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged and looked up at me. “I’m just sad.”
“How come?”
“You lost your daughter. It makes me sad.”
I sat down next to him on the step he was sitting on. “It was hard, but God got us through it, just like it was hard for you to live wi
th Charlie and to wait all that time for your brother.”
“I guess I just wish she were alive. Seeing all her pictures and stuff around makes me think she would have been a pretty cool older sister. I never had a sister.”
I smiled and put my arm around him. “She was a pretty neat kid. You would have liked her, but chances are you wouldn’t have ever been with us if everything didn’t happen the way it did.”
“Can you ever be happy when someone you love dies?” he said bluntly.
“I don’t think happiness is really the goal. I have the joy of God, though, and I’m okay with how God worked everything out in my life and even in my suffering.”
“How’s pizza for dinner?” Denise asked, coming into the hallway that connected into the living room and kitchen.
I looked over at William and raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to answer.
“Yes! Pizza!” he said, jumping off from the stairs.
That turned around quickly, I thought to myself as I smiled and stood up.
“We’ll order the pizza. Go head upstairs and take that shower,” Denise said.
“Okay!” William hurried up the stairs and into the bathroom while Denise and I headed into the kitchen.
“How’d it go with Austin?” she asked, turning around as we entered the kitchen.
Thinking about how sad he was, I shook my head. “He was sad. Really sad. Overall it went good, though.”
“How could it if he was sad?”
“We talked about God and heaven. I think it was good for him to talk about it.”
She smiled and came closer, touching my chest. “See? God has equipped you, Micah. Someone like Austin can sit down and feel better after just one conversation. Your being a pastor makes more and more sense.”
“I think I did what anyone would do in that conversation.”
She shook her head as she looked me in the eyes. With the sweetest voice, she said, “Look over the time you’ve had at the station with the guys. The people and lives you’ve touched. You know, I heard last night at the reception what the Chief was saying about you.”
“I don’t know, Denise. I’m still fairly nervous about it all.”
“I know it doesn’t come naturally to tout your abilities, but that’s good. Let God be your strength as we go forward with rebuilding this church and starting this new chapter in our life.”
I nodded. “I will.” Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed her cheek and pressed my head against hers as I held her close to me.
CHAPTER 24
Not even two months after leaving Spokane, we closed not only on the sale of our home in Spokane, but also the cabin in Ocean Shores. With seed money to help renovate William’s childhood home, we began to settle into our new life in Ocean Shores.
It was Sunday morning, and I was getting ready for church in the bathroom when William walked in. Seeing his reflection in the mirror behind me, I smiled and turned around.
“Hey, Dad—I mean, Micah.”
Bending down on my knees, I looked at him and said, “You can call me Dad if you want.” Denise walked in and we both looked over at her.
“I do want to. I feel like my first mom and dad would be happy I found new ones that love me, and they wouldn’t mind me calling you that.” He turned and looked up at Denise. “Can I call you Mom?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, smiling.
He grinned and said, “God does answer prayers.”
“Oh yeah?” I said.
“That morning I met you on the beach, I had been praying for a new mommy and daddy for a while. I asked God to send me someone who would love me like my old mommy and daddy did.”
My eyes began to water and I said, “God does answer prayers.” Pulling him in close to my chest, I kissed the side of his head and hugged him.
Approaching the pulpit that morning to preach, I looked across the faces I had become acquainted with over the last couple of months. Some names I knew; some names I hadn’t learned yet. Whether I was in Spokane in a pew or Ocean Shores at the pulpit, God and His Word never changed. It was the one absolute in life. The hardships I had endured had one consistent thread through them all: God was always there for me, never changing and everlasting.
My experiences and time spent with the guys at fire station 9 in downtown Spokane would never be forgotten. I believe my time served there equipped me to stand at the pulpit and preach the Word of God today. The trials, hardships and storms that life threw at us were prime examples of how fast life can change, how in a single moment everything we know and love can come crashing down around us. The one constant when it comes to our lives is God, and He alone remains firmly planted. While our worlds collapse and we lose all ability to carry on, it’s He who carries us through to an end.
Whether we are amongst the flames or our life is up in smoke, it’s God who can bring us out of the ashes and heal us after the fire.
The End.
Thank you for reading the Embers & Ashes Boxed Set (Books 1-4)
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One Thursday Morning (Click/Tap here to view on Amazon)
Prologue
To love and be loved—it was all I ever wanted. Nobody could ever convince me John was a bad man. He made me feel loved when I did not know what love was. I was his and he was mine. It was perfect . . . or at least, I thought it was.
I cannot pinpoint why everything changed in our lives, but it did—and for the worst. My protector, my savior, and my whole world came crashing down like a heavy spring downpour. The first time he struck me, I remember thinking it was just an accident. He had been drinking earlier in the day with his friends and came stumbling home late that night. The lights were low throughout the house because I had already gone to bed. I remember hearing the car pull up outside in the driveway. Leaping to my feet, I came rushing downstairs and through the kitchen to greet him. He swung, which I thought at the time was because I startled him, and the back side of his hand caught my cheek.
I should have known it wasn’t an accident.
The second time was no accident at all, and I knew it. After a heavy night of drinking the night his father died, he came to the study where I was reading. Like a hunter looking for his prey, he came up behind me to the couch. Grabbing the back of my head and digging his fingers into my hair, he kinked my neck over the couch and asked me why I hadn’t been faithful to him. I had no idea what he was talking about, so out of sheer fear, I began to cry. John took that as a sign of guilt and backhanded me across the face. It was hard enough to leave a bruise the following day. I stayed with him anyway. I’d put a little extra makeup on around my eyes or anywhere else when marks were left. I didn’t stay because I was stupid, but because I loved him. I kept telling myself that our love could get us through this. The night of his father’s death, I blamed his outburst on the loss of his father. It was too much for him to handle, and he was just letting out steam. I swore to love him through the good times and the bad. This was just one of the bad times.
Each time he’d hit me, I’d come up with a reason or excuse for the behavior. There was always a reason, at least in my mind, as to why John hit me. Then one time, after a really bad injury, I sought help from my mother before she passed away. The closest thing to a saint on earth, she dealt with my father’s abuse for decades before he died. She was a devout Christian, but a warped idea of love plagued my mother her entire life. She told me, ‘What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.’ That one piece of advice she gave me months before passing made me suffer through a marriage with John for another five trying years.
Each day with John as a husband was a day full of prayer. I would pray for him not to drink, and sometimes, he didn’t—those were the days I felt God had listened to my pleas. On the days he came home drunk and swinging, I felt alone, like God had left me to die by my husband’s hands. Fear was a cornerstone of our relationship, in my eyes, a
nd I hated it. As the years piled onto one another, I began to deal with two entirely different people when it came to John. There was the John who would give me everything I need in life and bring flowers home on the days he was sober, and then there was John, the drunk, who would bring insults and injury instead of flowers.
I knew something needed to desperately change in my life, but I didn’t have the courage. Then one day, it all changed when two little pink lines told me to run and never look back.
Chapter 1
Fingers glided against the skin of my arm as I lay on my side looking into John’s big, gorgeous brown eyes. It was morning, so I knew he was sober, and for a moment, I thought maybe, just maybe I could tell him about the baby growing inside me. Flashes of a shared excitement between us blinked through my mind. He’d love having a baby around the house. He really would. Behind those eyes, I saw the man I fell in love with years ago down in Town Square in New York City. Those eyes were the same ones that brought me into a world of love and security I had never known before. Moments like that made it hard to hate him. Peering over at his hand that was tracing the side of my body, I saw the cut on his knuckles from where he had smashed the coffee table a few nights ago. My heart retracted the notion of telling him about the baby. I knew John would be dangerous for a child.
Chills shivered up my spine as his fingers traced from my arm to the curve of my back. Could I be strong enough to live without him? I wondered as the fears sank back down into me. Even if he was a bit mean, he had a way of charming me like no other man I had ever met in my life. He knew how to touch gently, look deeply and make love passionately. It was only when he drank that his demons came out.
“Want me to make you some breakfast?” I asked, slipping out of his touch and from the bed to my feet. His touches were enjoyable, but I wanted to get used to not having them. My mind often jumped back and forth between leaving, not leaving, and something vaguely in between. It was hard.
