He’d learned Harriet, who was cooking all of their meals, normally took care of her mother with advanced Alzheimer’s. Pete and Lily had a daughter who was away at cystic fibrosis camp. Hugo left Patsy at home, rejoicing in her pregnancy after they’d struggled in silence through several years of infertility. Ben’s teenaged son was addicted to drugs.
Heartaches. Everyone has them. A little voice whispered, “But they turn to Me.”
Kip grabbed a cell phone and toggled it in the air. “I’m due to check in with the folks back home.”
“I just called home, myself. Everything is fine.”
“That’s always good news. See you at chow.” Kip left the tent.
Nathan looked at the Bible Kip left behind. He’d brought his own. He hadn’t read it in years. At first, it sat on the coffee table, but he’d moved it to the dresser, then finally tucked it in a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind. While packing for this trip, he’d tucked it in with his gear. He hadn’t had the courage to open it. Steeling himself, he pulled it out of his bag.
The unusually thick latigo cover still felt supple in his hands. Sturdy. Enduring. Unlike my faith. He opened it up and braced himself for the pain. It didn’t come. Instead, he traced the lettering inside with a wash of gentle feelings.
With all the love God has given me for you, Evie.
She’d given it to him the Christmas they were engaged. She’d fretted because the lettering went uphill slightly. He’d found it endearing. He’d told her it represented how they’d always look up.
But I didn’t. To the end, Evie clung to her faith. Me? I railed at God, then hid away from Him.
He thumbed through the gilt-edged pages. . .many marked with sermon notes or comments. The faded purple ribbon placemarker lay with an odd twisted quirk at the center of Psalm 139.
Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to heaven, You are there. If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me. If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night,” even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You.
Nathan felt like he’d been punched in the gut. I’ve been trying to hide, but it’s impossible. In the darkness of my grief and anger, I was overwhelmed—but that was because I didn’t look to the Light and hold fast to Him. People told me that, but I didn’t listen.
The memory of Lick’s disobedience came back to him in a whole new light. He’d called, and Lick had ignored him; he’d commanded, and finally, when Lick did come, he’d petted and praised him—hoping it would make it easier for Lick to come back the next time. And I’ve ignored God’s voice. He’s beckoned me, wooed me, called to me. . .yet He will still have a place for me like the father did for his prodigal son.
“Nathan?” He hadn’t heard Kip come back in the tent. Kip hunkered down beside him. “Do you need time alone, or do you need a brother right now?”
“I’ve been so bitter at God instead of holding fast to Him.” His voice cracked. “I’ve been such a fool.”
Kip sat down and gently pulled the Bible from him. He glanced down at the page, then looked up somberly. “David was a champion repenter. He messed up so many times. He went against God’s will, but he knew the Lord’s forgiveness was his if he confessed his sins and truly sought to restore his relationship. Is that how you’re feeling?”
Tears burned Nathan’s eyes. He barely choked out, “Yes.”
Kip ran his stubby finger along the last verses of that chapter as he read aloud, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way.”
“That makes it all sound so simple.”
“It is. You’re complicating it. God knows you. He was waiting for you to turn to Him. His arms are wide open.”
Someone slapped the side of the tent. “Supper’s on!”
“Be there in a minute,” Kip called.
Nathan grasped his hand. “Pray with me first.”
❧
“Who was on the phone?” Vanessa came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head.
“Dad called.” Jeff lay on his belly on the floor, his brow furrowed with concentration as he arranged several plastic figurines in specific places. “He said he’ll call again tomorrow. I told him I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m going to go start supper.” Vanessa stood in the hallway for a second and sagged against the wall. They’re fine, but I’m not.
Staying in Nathan’s home was a huge mistake. She’d been sleeping in the guest bedroom next to Jeff’s, but even it carried Evie’s stamp. No matter where she turned, Vanessa felt the lingering ghost of Nathan’s wife—in the silk pansy arrangement on the bedside table, the Battenburg lace comforter and curtains, the kitchen’s pink flowered dishes, floor, and wallpaper. Nathan couldn’t bear to change Jeff’s room, even though it looked woefully infantile. The first thing Vanessa did was to shut the door to Nathan’s bedroom. A pair of portraits hung in there—one of Evie in her wedding gown, and another of her and Nathan.
Father, I went into this with the right intentions. Where did I go wrong?
She rewrapped her turban and dragged herself downstairs. Consuelo normally came in to do the housekeeping and laundry, but she had the flu. Vanessa tried to keep the house picked up as she went along, but between Jeff and Licorice, it wasn’t a successful operation. She tucked his book bag against the couch, out of the way of traffic, and made a mental note that he still had to take a ruler to class tomorrow.
With Consuelo sick, Jeff didn’t have anyone to go pick him up after school or watch him until Vanessa got off work. She juggled her schedule so Jamie was at the shop for the twenty minutes each afternoon that it took for her to zip over to the school and back. Jeff would do his homework in the back room, show it to Vanessa, then help her out with filling water bowls or playing with the animals. The makeshift arrangement actually worked out fairly smoothly.
Vanessa headed into the kitchen. Somewhere along the line, she’d gathered that Nathan’s culinary skills encompassed the vital ability to open cans and microwave frozen foods. All week long, Jeff sat wide-eyed at the table as she put home-cooked meals in front of him. Tonight, she didn’t have the energy. She opened a can of chili.
As it heated on the stove, the phone rang.
“I’ve got it!” Jeff shouted from the stairs. He rocketed across the living room and snagged the receiver. In a breathless voice, he said, “Hellowhoisthis?”
Vanessa bit her lip. Maybe they should talk about phone manners tonight at dinner.
“Van, it’s for you.”
She took the phone. “Hello?”
“Vanessa, this is Dave.”
Dave. Dave from Guide Dogs. . . She mentally placed him and said, “Yes?”
“I’ve got a tough one for you. They’re starting a new training session up at the facility on Monday. One of the dogs they were going to use just got held back. He got into a tussle with an unleashed boxer.”
“He didn’t get injured, did he?”
For all of their work, the hardest thing the puppy raisers had to deal with was unleashed dogs. They disrupted all but the most polished, obedient, mature puppies, and even then, it could be dicey.
“No, but we think he needs another couple of months of citizen training before we put him through the program. You’ve done a marvelous job with Amber, and I’d like to go ahead and slip her ahead into that position.”
Vanessa drew in a quick breath.
“I know we had her slated to go in six weeks, Van.” He spoke quietly, his words measured with understanding of the sacrifice he asked. Vanessa knew he’d raised a puppy and relinquished it—he knew firsthand how much it hurt. “It’s hard to let them go, even with a
target date.”
She let out a long, choppy breath. “Is there any other candidate you could have go?”
“That last trip we all made to Disneyland is what made me think of you. Amber performed like a pro. She got on and off the Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean like she’d been on them a million times. When that little girl came up and yanked on her tail, she showed exceptional tolerance too.”
Vanessa remembered that trip. The puppy training club went on monthly outings to socialize and to expose the dogs to challenging situations. She’d posed Amber with characters for photos, sat on Main Street and watched the parade, and had been proud that Amber didn’t bat an eye at the huge draft horses pulling a trolley.
In a small voice, she said, “So Amber passed the final, and I didn’t even know it was an exam.”
“It wasn’t meant to be, Van.”
“I know. You’ve always been right up front with me. It’s heartache talking. You know me.” She laughed sadly. “Always talking before I think.”
“I’ll make the flight arrangements and get back to you. You’ve done a fine job, and someone is going to be lucky to have Amber as their guide dog.”
“Thanks, Dave.” She tearfully whispered, “Bye,” and quickly hung up the phone.
“Van?” Jeff tugged on the hem of her sleeve. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
❧
Nathan scowled at his cell phone. He’d accidentally left it on, and the charge was almost shot. He dialed home. “Van? Listen, my battery’s almost gone. I won’t be able to call tomorrow. How are things going?”
“Jeff’s over at the Wilsons’s for Caleb’s pizza party.”
“I forgot about that! I didn’t get a present.”
“I called Caleb’s mom to get approval. He’s now the proud owner of a second hamster.”
“I owe you, big time. How about you?” Just then, his cell phone let out a pitiful beep. “Van? Van?”
He kicked a small stone, sending it flying into a metal trash can. The ping wasn’t loud enough to tattle on his frustration, but Nathan hated having to wait to tell Vanessa his good news. Then again, he smiled to himself, it’s the kind of news best given in person.
The next day, hundreds of tools rattled in the back of the truck. At one of the preplanning meetings, he’d assessed what folks were taking and deduced their team was grossly under supplied. His construction company had donated materials, and he’d packed a generator and all sorts of power and hand tools in his truck. He hit a pothole, and everything made another loud clunk. Nathan didn’t care. Normally, he took pains to treat his tools well, but it didn’t matter this time. He was going home, and he wanted to get there as soon as possible.
Kip understood. He’d helped Nathan pitch the tools in and shoved him toward the cab. “I’ll take down the tent. You go on ahead and get home. You have someone waiting for you. . .and I don’t mean Jeff.”
Nathan had paused for an instant and given Kip a searching look.
“Vanessa is yours, Buddy.” Kip lifted his blistered hands in a gesture of surrender. “I gave it a try, but I know when to quit. You’re the right man for her. Now that you squared things away with God, there’s nothing standing in the way. Go home. Make her a happy woman.”
Nathan remembered Kip’s words as he pulled onto his housing tract. Everything had fallen into place. Life had a sense of rightness. A neighbor was mowing his lawn, and a few kids were tossing a Frisbee. His son and the woman he loved were just a street away.
Instead of the welcome he expected, his reception was anything but delirious. Vanessa sat on the steps with her arm around Amber. Jeff sat on the other side of the retriever. All three of them looked glum.
Nathan had barely jammed his truck into “Park” when he bolted over to them. “What’s wrong?”
Jeff popped up and gave him a hug. “Van has to give Amber back.”
Vanessa’s pretty blue eyes were red rimmed and puffy. If ever she needed comfort, now was the time. Nathan plopped down beside her and slid his arm around her shoulders. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
Even choking out that one word stretched her. Nathan could scarcely stand seeing her hurt. He tilted her head onto his shoulder and whispered into her soft, golden hair, “You can keep her if you really want to, can’t you?”
Vanessa shook her head. “I gave my word. From the day I got her, I knew I’d have to let go.”
“She’s being honor’ble, Dad.”
“Yes, Sport, she is.” He wondered aloud, “How are you going to do it?”
She lifted her head and looked at him. Tears glistened in her eyes. “God loved His Son supremely—but when it came time for mankind to stop walking in darkness, to shed spiritual blindness, God sent his beloved Son to lead us to eternal freedom. It was an unspeakable sacrifice—but I’m eternally grateful for it.”
He let her talk, not knowing where she was going, but willing to let her talk if it gave her any comfort.
“Each time I’ve given up a guide puppy I’ve trained, I’ve remembered God’s sacrifice for my soul. I’ve had to trust Him to give me consolation. He’s been faithful, and that’s why I’ve always taken on another puppy. By giving up Amber, someone who lives in darkness can find liberty. It’s nowhere near the scope of the Lord’s sacrifice, but drawing that parallel helps me let go because God proved that by giving, we’re set free. I’m just following His example.”
Tears ran down her pale cheeks. Nathan wrapped her in his arms and held her as she cried. He’d spent the last months thinking she was so innocent in her faith, yet she’d been far wiser than he’d been. She’d let God come alongside her in her times of loss. Oh, to be sure, the loss of a guide puppy didn’t in any way equate with his losing Evie, but the God who cared about the lilies of the field and counted every hair on a man’s head certainly covered every concern with His love.
Vanessa sniffled and pushed away.
“Van, we need to talk.” He wanted to tell her his good news, to maybe shed some light in the midst of her sadness.
“No.” She dipped her head. “I need time alone with Amber. I really need to go.”
“Can’t you stay just a little while? Maybe I could take a quick shower, and we could go out for supper.”
“No.”
“I’ll drive you home. You shouldn’t be driving right now.”
“I need to drive. It’ll help me clear my head.” She flipped a swath of hair behind her shoulder and stood. Pasting on a smile that was anything but genuine, she said, “Jeff is a terrific kid. You can be proud of him.”
“I’ll help you put your stuff in the car.”
She pulled her key ring from the pocket of her jeans. “Jeff already helped me. I need to go. G’bye.”
He fought the urge to snatch her back, to hold her and let her pour out every last tear. She wanted to spend this last night alone with Amber, and she deserved that. Nathan stood on the porch and watched her drive off. If he had his way, she wouldn’t be doing that again.
❧
Amber sensed something was wrong. She gently nosed Vanessa. That action opened the floodgates. Vanessa sat on the floor by her bed, wrapped her arms around her puppy, buried her face in her fur, and wept. Everything in her life felt like it was falling apart. She had no one to blame but herself.
She’d chosen to take on this puppy. All along, she’d known the time would come to give her up. What kind of fool was she to keep setting herself up for this kind of parting?
And then there was Nathan. The tears flowed even faster, wetting Amber’s soft coat. Mom and Dad and Val and even Kip had warned her. They’d each come to her and discussed their concerns. Oh, but did I listen? No.
In the week that she’d cared for Jeff, she’d come to realize how much she adored him. The feeling was obviously mutual. He was a great kid. Cute. Smart. Tenderhearted, grubby faced, and ultimately lovable.
The first few nights, she’d looked forward to a
cell phone call from Nathan. Then she’d grown to dread them. As she stayed in his home, the truth became undeniable. What started out as an innocent business arrangement had ensnared her, and she couldn’t let the relationship continue.
Vanessa had to face the heart-wrenching fact that she’d unwisely let her heart get ahead of her spiritual welfare. A huge ball formed in her throat.
God, I’ve been so foolish, so arrogant. All along, I thought I was in control of my feelings. Ever since I accepted You, I knew I was meant to fall in love with a man who wanted to serve You as much as I did. In my dreams, we were going to have a marriage based on You as our foundation.
I didn’t listen. Mom and Dad came to me. Val tried to talk sense into me, and Kip even confronted me. Instead of listening to wise counsel, I charged ahead. I really thought I was doing the right thing. I wore my faith as a shield and thought it would serve as a barrier against any heartbreak. How wrong I’ve been!
I love him, God. I do. I hate to admit it to myself and to confess it to You. How did I come to this point? In the past, I’d been so positive about setting my affections on a man who was on fire for Your kingdom. Nathan is burned out, yet I want him.
I know I have to make a choice. Nothing can come between me and You. Abraham faced having to choose, and he was willing to sacrifice Isaac. You gave Your Son. Nathan professes to still be Your child, but he isn’t walking with You. What kind of home would we have if the foundation isn’t built on Your will and holy Word? If my husband isn’t following You, how can he lead me? What about any children we’d have? I know it’s wrong. Father, I know it’s so very wrong.
But in my heart, I long for Nathan to be restored to You. His bitterness has faded into. . .emotionless acceptance. It’s progress, but it isn’t enough. I have faith You can reclaim him. Until he comes to that point, I see how I cannot let the love I feel flourish. I don’t know how to stop it. I’ve never understood how Abraham could put his son on the altar. Can’t you work a miracle for me, just as you did for him?
Love Is Patient Page 13
