When Joy Came to Stay

by Karen Kingsbury

  Ben made a fist and gripped it with his other hand. Before all this happened he would have known the answer—of course Maggie would want her daughter. But now…now he had no idea what might be going on in his wife’s mind, what her reaction to Amanda would be. “You’re right.” He stared across the room at Amanda and her friend. “That’s why I’m afraid of telling her anything yet.”

  He sighed. The question had haunted him since the moment he laid eyes on the child. Now that he’d found her, there was something deep within him that couldn’t imagine ever letting her go. “I haven’t worked through all the details and, well, I know Amanda needs a mother figure.” His feelings for Amanda were greater than he’d thought possible. And if Maggie wasn’t interested…

  Does it matter, God…what Maggie decides about this? Aren’t children sometimes raised by single fathers?

  He searched for the right words. “What I’m trying to say is, I want to give her a home, Ms. Garrett. No matter what Maggie decides.”

  Kathy studied him and an understanding smile worked its way across her face. “I hoped you might feel that way.” Kathy glanced at her watch. “We can talk about it later. Let’s get Amanda back to school, then head back to the office so we can file the right paperwork.”

  He hesitated. “I’ve been a foster parent but…I can’t believe it’s this easy to take custody of a child in the foster system.” The idea worried Ben. What if he’d been the type of foster parent Amanda had had before?

  “The moment a licensed foster parent breaks the law or is arrested, that type of thing, a red flag shows up in the computer and the license is automatically revoked. But…” Her shoulders settled forward a bit, as though the weight of the matter were almost more than she could bear. “Obviously it’s not a fool proof system.”

  She looked at him intently. “I’ve prayed about you, Mr. Stovall. I know you’re a licensed foster parent in the state of Ohio; and I believe you’re married to Amanda’s birth mother. I also believe you know the same Lord I do. Because of that, I’m ready, if you are, to arrange a short-term agreement. I trust God to make the other details fall into place later.” She smiled, even as her eyes filled with fresh tears. “Much as I’ll miss her, you should know one thing, Mr. Stovall.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll be praying that your wife will get the help she needs…so she can see the chance God’s giving her. And that one day very soon—” Kathy’s eyes sparkled with hope—“the three of you will be a family.”

  The paperwork was easier than Ben was used to. Short-term care—especially for a foster parent already licensed by the state—was by nature designed to be an expeditious process, so that the child could be transported as soon as possible into the foster home. In this case, he and Kathy had talked to Amanda before taking her back to class. They’d agreed Amanda would go with him after school tomorrow. She could miss Friday and spend a three-day weekend with him.

  Now it was just after two o’clock, and Ben lay on his bed, sorting through the feelings assaulting him. Sometime tomorrow he and Amanda would drive the five hours back to Cleveland. Then, on Friday morning he would call and—by the grace of God—get a report on Maggie. As long as she was making progress and nearing the end of her treatment, he would do what some might consider the craziest thing of all: He would take Amanda to Orchards Hospital, where he wouldn’t leave unless Maggie refused not just him, but her daughter as well.

  How should I feel about Maggie, God? Part of me still can’t believe it, can’t imagine that she lied to me all those years, that she hid something as serious as this. But part of me feels guilty, Lord.

  For the life of him, Ben couldn’t understand why. What had he done to drive Maggie into John McFadden’s arms? How had he pressured her to give up her daughter and lie to him all these years?

  Love covers a multitude of sins, My son.

  Ben flipped onto his stomach and breathed in the sterile scent of hotel bedding. “What’s that mean? Tell me, God. Please.” He voiced the request through clenched teeth.

  Nothing came to him, and he closed his eyes. But as the minutes passed he drifted back in time through a series of memories, times that until then, he had completely forgotten.

  The first one took shape…he and Maggie were fishing on the edge of a dock along a small lake, hidden away from the main road. It was seven, maybe eight years ago. They heard something and turned to see a teenage couple walking hand in hand, heading into the woods. The girl looked nervous; she checked over her shoulder more than once. The boy had a thick blanket under his arm, and his steps were sure and steady.

  “Looks like trouble,” Maggie had whispered.

  He could see the concern on her face as clearly as he had seen it that day.

  Ben snorted softly. “She doesn’t look too worried.”

  Maggie’s eyes had widened, her eyebrows set in frustration. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ben remembered being taken aback. “It means whatever happens out there in the woods today, she asked for it.”

  He could still see the indignation that had flashed in Maggie’s eyes. “That girl isn’t asking for anything.”

  “Look, Maggie, when a girl sneaks off into the woods with a guy and a blanket, she’s asking for it.” He placed an arm around her and smoothed his thumb over her troubled brow. “Look at you and me. We didn’t get in trouble because we held ourselves to a higher standard, a godly standard. I’m not saying it’s easy to stay pure, Maggie. But we did it, didn’t we?”

  In the memory, Maggie’s response was something Ben hadn’t recognized before: A shadow crossed her face and she let her gaze fall to the water without answering him. Ask her what’s bothering her! He screamed silently at the image of himself in the memory, but it did no good. Years had passed since then, and the moment was obviously gone. Instead there was only the same verse that had plagued him too often.

  Love covers a multitude of sins…love covers a multitude of…

  Another image took shape. He and Maggie were sitting across from each other in a restaurant just after church one Sunday a handful of years earlier. It was a day when one of the elders had shared news of his fifteen-year-old daughter’s unplanned pregnancy.

  “Maybe I’ll give her a call,” Maggie had said. She was staring out the window.

  “I guess, if you want to.” Ben kept his eyes trained on the menu, but in the memory he could see the hurt expression on Maggie’s face.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ben looked up. “Nothing against you, Maggie. But she made her choice when she slept with the guy. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I feel badly for her, but she never should have let herself get in that situation.”

  Like with the previous memory, Ben saw the veil of shame cover Maggie’s face. But at the time he’d been too involved in whether to order grilled swordfish or chicken alfredo. He hadn’t really thought much about her silence, her expression.

  Maggie, I’m so sorry, honey. The signs were all there. How could I have been so blind? The questions tore at him, making him wish for a way back in time so he could look deep into her soul and gently pull the truth from her, talk with her so he wouldn’t have to wait until now to understand her pain.

  Love covers a multitude of sins…love covers a multitude…

  Memory after memory filled his mind. Each time the conversation was about immorality or fleshly weakness. And each time, as Maggie expressed compassion, Ben had silenced her with righteous indignation. Finally at the end of the last conversation Maggie had tears streaming down her face—and again Ben had missed the opportunity to connect with her.

  Love covers a multitude of sins.

  Ben lay in bed wrestling with himself and with the Scripture that refused to let him sleep. He rolled onto one side, then flipped onto the other until finally he lay on his back, his heart pounding, his eyes wide open. “I might have been kinder back then, God…but I loved her. This isn’t about me; it’s about Maggie
. It’s her fault she…”

  A new image took shape in his mind. The image of a man, nailed to a cross that was anchored on a hill and surrounded by a throng of people. But rather than weep for the crucified man, the people mocked and jeered and held their heads high. “You brought it on Yourself! You asked for it!” Suddenly Ben heard himself gasp out loud. Among the faces in the crowd, he had spotted his own. Then at the same moment, he caught the eyes of the one on the cross. Jesus’ eyes, calm and merciful and full of.

  Forgive them, for they know not what they do.

  Jesus’ words washed over him, and he blinked back the image. “Oh, God, what have I done?” Tears gave way to gut-wrenching sobs that tore at his heart and threatened to consume him. “What have I done?”

  He had asked for a sign, hadn’t he? Well, the Lord Himself had given one. He could deny the truth no longer. The same way the crowd had mocked Jesus, Ben had mocked those around him who were in pain. By believing himself somehow superior or invincible to the destructive reality of sin and temptation, he had missed dozens of opportunities to get to know Maggie, to really love her.

  Suddenly Ben knew with certainty that had he seen her back then the way he’d seen her tonight, in his memories, he would have pulled her close and asked her what was wrong. Had he seen her that way even a few years ago…a few weeks ago, maybe they could have unraveled the ball of lies that had become their life and prevented Maggie’s breakdown.

  Maybe Amanda would never have been forced into a foster home where people hurt her.

  And maybe the Lord wouldn’t have had to show Ben’s face among the crowd of people mocking Jesus.

  “Forgive me, God. Please, forgive me.” Ben wept, and as tear after tear coursed down his face, his heart grew softer than it had been in years. A hundred times over he apologized to Jesus, begging Him to prepare Maggie’s heart for the moment when he could finally tell her how sorry he was. When he was finished, he felt drained of every wrong emotion he’d ever experienced. What’s more, he no longer even considered Maggie’s role in all they’d been through. He forgave her completely and wanted only for her to be able to say the same about him.

  “Let her love me again, Lord. Make her believe me.” Ben did love Maggie. He knew that now more than ever, more than at any point since their first meeting on that long-ago summer’s night. Maggie was the only woman he would ever love, and Ben wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and soothe away the years of hurt and lies and anger. The years when she must have thought daily about her child, yet was unable to share those feelings with him because of her desire to meet his standards.

  And now where were they?

  The reality of their situation hit him harder than ever before. Maggie wanted a divorce. Having kept her feelings locked away for so long, she was no longer willing even to consider working things out with him. The thought terrified him until he realized something else. He loved Maggie’s child. If Maggie refused to come home, if she no longer wanted anything to do with her daughter, he would continue to pursue Amanda’s adoption.

  “I love that little girl, God,” he whispered into the still, night air. “Like she was my own flesh and blood.”

  As his tears eased, he begged God to work a miracle in the situation…pleaded that somehow, when this nightmare was over, the three of them could be something none of them had ever been before.

  A family.

  Thirty

  THE TIME HAD FINALLY COME.

  Now that it was here, Maggie noticed something that made her heart soar. It happened while she sat stiffly in a padded folding chair with the members of the group forming a protective circle around her. There, in the midst of them, she realized the darkness was gone.

  She closed her eyes and they filled with tears of gratitude.

  “Most of you know why we’re here.” Dr. Baker stood in the center of the circle, her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. Maggie felt the presence of the Holy Spirit as tangibly as if God Himself were standing there beside her. “Maggie has had a significant change of heart, and this afternoon she asked if we could meet here and pray for her.” Dr. Baker turned to Maggie. “Do you want to say anything to the group?”

  She nodded and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I want to thank you for…for being honest with me.” She sniffed once and then took a tissue from Sarah, who knelt at her side. “Sarah and Betty and…” Maggie looked at Howard and smiled, “and you, Howard, for being bold enough to be honest with me even when you knew it might make me too mad to ever come back.”

  Her watery eyes made their way around the group until she had connected with each of them. “You’ve taught me that depression isn’t something strange or unusual, that people who love God very much can suffer in the pit of darkness and still be believers.”

  There were gentle smiles from the group members; Sarah wiped at the tears that were now running down her face.

  Maggie knew she might not have another chance to say all that was on her heart, so she continued. “I used to think believers couldn’t be depressed. Or shouldn’t be. If a person trusted God and prayed and read the Bible and really had faith, then there was no room for things like depression, right? Christians who were depressed must have something wrong with them, or they didn’t trust God enough. That sort of thing.”

  Maggie couldn’t stop the small, sad laugh that escaped her. “Then I found myself fighting depression…and losing. So I was sure there was something wrong with me, that I just needed to trust more.” She firmed her shoulders. “But I know now that was all wrong. The problem is something else entirely. Too many of us have been afraid to be honest, afraid that by being honest, our spouse or daughter or sister wouldn’t love us. God wouldn’t love us. We haven’t felt able to walk and live and love in the abundant sunshine of God’s honesty and grace. I know I didn’t feel able…until now.”

  Dr. Baker squeezed Maggie’s shoulder, encouraging her. “So, I wanted to ask you to come here, to pray for me. Pray I’ll find a way to be honest with the people who matter in my life.” Her throat tightened with emotion, and she looked down at her hands. “It’ll take a miracle to save my marriage…”

  She looked up, met the eyes watching her again, and went on in a whisper. “But then, God’s done far greater things. I only have to look at the cross to remember that.” She hesitated as a fresh wave of tears slid down her face. “I know you’ll be okay when you leave here. We all will be so long as we remember how very big our God is, and how unconditional His love is. Even if we never see each other after this, I know we’ll meet again. Because I believe God will see us through. Thank you, each of you.”

  Maggie’s words faded into silence, but she didn’t mind. It was true…she would survive. God had brought her, as He’d brought so many others, out of the darkness into the sunlight of His grace and joy.

  Before they started to pray, Maggie remembered something else. “You know some of the specifics of my situation, but I need you to pray for something else.”

  “Whatever it is, just tell us, Maggie.” Sarah handed her another tissue and waited expectantly. “We’ll pray daily, you know we will.”

  Maggie nodded. “Somewhere out there, outside the safe walls of Orchards, I have a daughter I’ve never met. She’s probably doing fine, living with her adoptive family. But when I’m finished here, if I feel it’s really what God wants, I’ll do whatever I can to find her. I’m not sure I can have peace about that part of my life until I know she’s okay.”

  Then the group of downtrodden, desperate people, many of whom had only recently escaped the throes of desperation and found hope again, formed a chorus of voices and lifted Maggie and her needs straight to the hallways of heaven.

  Thirty-one

  AT 2:55 THAT AFTERNOON, KATHY GARRETT WAS WORKING AS diligently as possible on the stack of files that had gone unattended that day. She knew with everything in her that the decision to let Amanda go with Ben Stovall for the long weekend was a good one. And,
true to her word, she prayed that he would be successful in meeting with his wife and introducing her for the first time to her daughter.

  Kathy had no doubt that Amanda had made a connection with Mr. Stovall at their lunch. The child had an uncanny ability to recognize a genuine person, and from everything Amanda had said, she was hopeful things would work out with the Stovalls.

  Amanda was good that way, not given to long bouts of sadness when she had to leave the Garrett family It had happened often, and she understood.

  But this time—if things worked, out—Amanda’s absence would be for more than a few days…and the idea of saying good-bye to the child caused Kathy’s mind to wander, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on the files in front of her.

  Kathy took a sip of lukewarm coffee and reached for the top folder on the stack. As she did, the phone rang.

  She sighed. It never stops, does it? “Hello?”

  “Ms. Garrett?”

  Kathy didn’t recognize the voice. “Yes, this is she.” Something in the man’s firm tone sent an unexplainable ripple of alarm through Kathy’s veins.

  “This is Judge Hutchison. I’m worried about one of your charges, Amanda Joy Brownell. Earlier today I heard an emergency session for a man by the name of John McFadden. He appeared with documentation proving he was Amanda’s biological father. Before he got much—”

  Kathy’s heart skipped a beat. Amanda’s biological father? What was the judge talking about? “Wait a minute…why didn’t you call me?”

  “It never got that far. I doubted the man from the beginning—something about his eyes or his look…I couldn’t put my finger on it. Anyway I went into my chambers and ran a rap on him.” The judge hesitated. “DNA matches. He’s the girl’s father, all right. But he’s a bad man, Ms. Garrett. I’ve left you a few messages since then.”