The Earth Is Full (Child of Deliverance Series Book 1)

by B. D. Riehl

  Stacey filled out the paperwork and wrote the first check with a great sense of this is right, a nice Christian school where Lydia could be involved in morally sound classes and activities. She would get plenty of Christian influence, and maybe in the small setting, she would make more friends, become more outgoing.

  Stacey had to admit that their church involvement had been lacking since Henry had cheated. Bryan had been too disgusted that a church leader had turned out to be such a hypocrite. Stacey was so engrossed in work that by the weekend she was too tired to attend church Sunday morning. Maybe Lydia at Christian school would be that push to bring them back around. And it had worked—sort of. They definitely became more regular attendees.

  Instead of thriving, though, Lydia had become withdrawn and less interested in church activities. She begged to go back to public school, but Stacey and Bryan expected the mood to pass. When she began to obsess over leaving Central Valley, they bought the Jeep to encourage her to stick to it. And she had.

  Unfortunately, she had also become mouthy, provocative in her dress, and less interested in things of the Lord. Stacey began to wonder if the school had anything to do with it. It seemed her only friends were Ethan and that strange boss of hers, Zanna.

  She took a deep breath and spoke softly. Maybe a different approach would work.

  “Lydia, I don’t know how to get through to you. What more can we do for you? We send you to one of the top schools in the area. We respect your privacy. We bought you a car! What more can we do? I’m at a loss.”

  Lydia, annoyed with her mother’s plea, slumped in her seat. “I didn’t even want that car,” she murmured.

  Old wounds were opened with that statement…

  For months Lydia had dropped hints about a car. She flipped through car magazines and would beg Bryan to take her to car lots “just to look.” When they surprised her two years ago with the red Wrangler, they said it was all hers if she would stick it out at Central Valley.

  She had not been the gushing teen they had expected. After Bryan opened the door and pointed out the new stereo system and the leather interior, she stood back and whispered thank you in an even, lackluster tone. As she turned to go back inside, Bryan and Stacey stood with mouths agape.

  “Don’t you want to take it for a spin?” Bryan had asked crossly.

  “I don’t know how to drive a stick, Dad.” She had stomped her sandaled foot, tears coursing her cheeks. “You know I wanted an automatic!”

  “Lydia, your father can teach you. We found a great deal on this Jeep. I thought you would be pleased.” Stacey tried to coax more appropriate appreciation out of her.

  Lydia sniffed and wiped the makeup from under her eyes with her fingers. “You knew I wanted a Beetle. If you’re going to bribe someone, you should do your homework. You guys just don’t listen or care about what I want.”

  The reminder brought all of Stacey’s careful control crashing down.

  “You know what, Lydia? I’m sick of this. I don’t know what happened to make you such a brat!” Stacey growled in frustration and threw everything she had at her daughter.

  “Spoiled. Ungrateful. That’s what you are. We sacrifice; we do whatever precious Princess Lydia wants to do. It’s never enough. You are the most materialistic girl I have ever met. Do you even understand how privileged you are? And now drugs?”

  She pulled the car into a spot near the Jeep and let the engine idle. She grabbed Lydia’s arm before she could exit the passenger door. The younger Gray shook her off, but remained seated; her eyes icy.

  “There are people in this world other than you. Most teenagers can only dream of the life and freedom your father and I give to you. All you care about is your own way.”

  Lydia, hurt by her mother’s outburst but full of pride and self-righteous anger, looked pointedly at her mother’s designer suit, expensive manicure, salon highlights, and diamond earrings.

  “You’re right, Mom. I’m not the only one in the world. And I’m not the only one that cares about stuff. You’re quite the role model,” she ground out.

  They considered each other before Lydia shook her head, once again the degrading teen. Lydia’s blasé mask fixed back on her face; she exited the car and unlocked her Jeep.

  ***

  Sitting on the floor of the entryway, Stacey realized she had forgotten to ask Lydia about the implied abuse from Ethan.

  The Jeep roared to life outside, the tires squealed as Lydia backed out of the driveway. Stacey’s heart pounded with anger, then shame and worry.

  You’re not the only one she doesn’t respect, Bryan, she thought. But do we really know our daughter or what’s happening with her?

  Chapter Four

  Mike Bowen, the discipleship pastor at First Bible Church, sat in his office, Bible open before him, hands fanned out across the pages; so many of these passages were written on his heart. Many nights he had sat just this way, seeking the Lord’s wisdom. Tonight he needed an easy answer.

  Earlier, as he had prepared to leave for the evening, his phone rang, the glad tidings on the other end shattering hopes he had for the following weeks. He barely had a chance to end that call before another more somber one came through.

  What now, Lord?

  A light rap sounded at his door before his wife, Karen, poked her head through. He smiled at how the room instantly brightened with her presence. He had married her on her nineteenth birthday twenty-six years ago. Four children, three children-in-law, two ministries and an abundance of life between them later, he was still smitten.

  “Oh, good, you’re still here. We’re in a crunch. Could you call Stacey Gray for me? She’s our volunteer for coffee service tonight, but she hasn’t arrived yet. I would go ahead and do it, but she has my key to the coffee cart.”

  The ladies on the women’s fellowship team were busy with preparations for a community dinner. This was Karen’s favorite kind of ministry outreach, but Mike knew it could be stressful.

  “Sure. I’ll call her right now.”

  She smiled at him and blew a playful kiss.

  Mike’s smile faded once the door was shut. He knew better than to give her the news now. He would wait until tomorrow morning. Lord, it would be wonderful to have answers for her by then, wouldn’t it? He shook his head at his own boldness. I know, Lord. In Your time.

  He reached for the church directory, found the G’s then the Grays. The picture next to their name displayed a small, attractive family. Poised. Mike had known the Grays for years. He respected Bryan for his work, found him to be a quiet man with great character—overworked, for certain. He remembered years that the family barely made it to church because of Bryan’s schedule. Although Stacey had once admitted it was more than that; they had a hard time coming to church after Henry’s infidelity.

  Mike understood. He remembered feeling the same anger and betrayal at a church leader. Sin was like a pebble thrown in a pond; the rings of repercussions began small and close to the source but worked their way outward, wider and broader until the entire body of water was affected, especially in a church. Folks had a hard time remembering that even church leaders were human and struggled with their flesh.

  Mike shook his head. God had certainly breathed life into the Pattersons. Henry had confessed, repented, and stepped out of a leadership position to focus on his family. Though they had used God’s forgiveness to heal their family, the rest of the church body still suffered, even all of these years later. The Grays were proof of that. Not that all of their problems could be laid at the Pattersons’ feet.

  He considered the young woman in the picture. Lydia had grown into a beautiful young woman, her looks a mirror of her mother’s beauty. He smiled at his memories of the young family. He and Karen had enjoyed numerous dinners with the Grays. They’d even taken the young couple out on a double date or two. The Grays had come to them in the early years of marital hiccups. He wished they still felt comfortable enough to come to them now. It was obvious by looking
at them lately that things weren’t well behind their walls. He fondly remembered the day he had officiated Charlotte’s wedding. He remembered with joy when she and Sam dedicated each of their girls to the Lord.

  Mike considered the younger Gray again. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in the picture. Her lips turned upward, but were tight; her eyes were unfriendly—hard. He’d been in the ministry long enough to recognize that sometimes people were lonely when they appeared hard, hurting when they appeared indifferent.

  He knew a few busybodies at church believed Lydia was a tramp based on the way she dressed. While Mike agreed privately that he wished Bryan would make Lydia cover up more, he knew her looks did not reveal her heart. No, the Lord was just getting started with that one; of that, he was sure.

  The phone at the Gray residence was answered on the third ring.

  “Stacey?’ he assumed.

  “Yes?” her voice sounded strained and he wondered if he woke her.

  “It’s Pastor Mike. I hate to bother you, but were you planning to come for coffee fellowship tonight?”

  A gasp on the other end confirmed she had forgotten.

  “Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry. Give me ten minutes.”

  When Stacey arrived, it was obvious she had been crying. Her makeup did nothing to hide her splotchy skin. Her red-rimmed eyes were bright and glaring.

  Mike took her elbow and led her to his office. Once she was seated, he took the key from her and instructed her to wait. She nodded as tears sprung fresh.

  When Karen had the key, Mike returned to his office and closed the door. He lifted the blinds on his office window; he wanted Stacey to be free to speak without fear of anyone eavesdropping but was careful to create an opportunity for others to look in. He and Karen had laid ground rules early in their marriage. Privacy with a woman he was counseling was not appropriate. Once seated at his desk, he listened while Stacey brought him up to date with their problems at home.

  “I just don’t know what to do with her,” she finished brokenly. “She doesn’t respect us. She’s getting into a bunch of stuff. At first I thought it was a passing phase and didn’t want to push. We give her freedom; we put her in private school. I just don’t know where we’ve gone wrong with her.”

  While Stacey rifled in her purse for a handkerchief, Mike’s mind wandered to the issue that plagued him before he called her. This was a comparably small problem, at least on the surface. He sensed there was more to it that Stacey obviously didn’t want to share, but he understood.

  He and Karen had gone through years of frustration with their oldest son. So many nights spent pacing the living room, calling friends, trying to find where he was. Karen had been convinced she had done something to make him so rebellious. Something had to have gone wrong in his childhood, hadn’t it?

  In the end, a bad hangover had brought him to his knees one morning. He had said that all of his dabbling in the world caught up to him and God used that awful morning hanging over the toilet to get his attention. Mike didn’t believe a change had happened at first. But Beau’s faith and transformation had proven genuine. He and his wife were now missionaries in China.

  Before he could encourage Stacey with that anecdote, he felt the Lord nudge Him and a small stirring whispered through his heart.

  What, Lord?

  Stacey took a deep breath and gave him a wobbly smile.

  The two seemingly random phone calls from earlier, the problems at the Grays, it was suddenly obvious that God was, indeed, at work here. The answer to both of their problems was so clear he felt shivers of goose bumps up and down his back.

  Yes, Lord. Yes, of course!

  ***

  Lydia sought refuge at Got Your Back. She didn’t know where else to go but to Zanna. She entered the small boutique and gave a cursory greeting to Matty, the night clerk. A highly feminine individual with a flare for fashion, he wore skintight pants and a loose fitted shirt, similar to hers.

  “Hey, girl! What’s got you here so late, honey?” he called.

  Lydia mustered up a small smile and slipped into the back without answering. Matty didn’t really like her; he just enjoyed being loud. And obnoxious.

  She found Zanna going over order sheets in the back office. She cleared her throat when the older woman didn’t immediately look up.

  When she noticed Lydia, Zanna dropped her pen and rotated her chair toward her. “Well, this is a surprise. I noticed your Jeep missing when I came back to work on the books,” she said, waving her hand across the papers. “What happened? Did Ethan get over you flirting with that guy in chapel?”

  Lydia shook her head at her realizing that, while Zanna and Ethan had been smoking weed earlier, Ethan had been talking about her. On her drive home she had also deduced that Zanna must have seen Ethan slip his half-smoked joint into Lydia’s bag.

  “Zanna, my dad could have been fired. Do you get that? Fired!”

  Zanna scrunched her face at her. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Lydia gave her a cursory summary of the events that led to Ethan being in handcuffs and the police discovering the joint in her backpack.

  Zanna curled her lip. “First of all, I doubt Ethan was that crazy about you breaking up with him. As usual, your flair for the dramatic is coming through.”

  Lydia’s mouth hung open in shock.

  But Zanna continued her assessment of Lydia’s troubles, ignoring her. “And second of all, the cops had no right to search your bag. If you protest it, they’ll drop everything.”

  “No, Zanna, I gave them permission to look in my bag when they asked because I don’t smoke weed! I had nothing to hide!”

  Zanna smirked and stood to walk toward her. “Well then, it’s your own fault, isn’t it?”

  She flashed a smile at Lydia and sat down on a shipping box. “So I’m guessing they kept the joint?” She asked, glancing toward the front to be sure Matty didn’t hear.

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “No, Zanna, they gave it back and said, ‘Enjoy!’ Of course they kept it. As evidence. Against me!”

  Zanna laughed. “Oh, well, I’ve got more at home.”

  She motioned for Lydia to sit next to her and punched her lightly in the arm when she did. “Girl, you need that joint. You need to chill.”

  Lydia shot to her feet at that. “Zanna, you don’t understand! But even more than that, you don’t even care! You care more about your stupid pot!”

  Zanna bolted up as well and clapped a hand over Lydia’s mouth. “Shut up, you hear!” Zanna’s words grounded through her teeth like tires spinning on gravel. “It’s your fault the police came to find you. Who tries to break up with their boyfriend while he’s driving? Who flirts with other guys right in front of her boyfriend in chapel of all places!” As she talked, it was clear Ethan had gotten to her first. He must’ve called her when the police took Lydia with them.

  Lydia stood in disbelief, breathing hard against Zanna’s hand. She closed her eyes to blot out Zanna’s enraged face.

  “This is your fault, Lydia. Your doing. You could have gotten Ethan in a lot of trouble. He’s lucky that joint was in your bag, or he could have lost his chance at college ball because of your reckless treatment of him. He’s lucky that he was able to explain that you were acting crazy while he was driving, and he pulled over to be safe. They let him go with a warning, thankfully.”

  Her fault? Hardly.

  But it was obvious neither Ethan nor Zanna would see it any other way. Lydia felt lost and confused. She opened her eyes and looked back into Zanna’s angry glare.

  Zanna slowly loosened her grip. “Right? If not for you, they wouldn’t have pulled Ethan over in the first place. Got it?”

  Seeing no way out and afraid to lose the one friend she felt she had, Lydia conceded. “Right,” she agreed. “If I would have just ignored Joey at school or tried to talk to Ethan later, I wouldn’t have put him in that position. You’re right.”

  Zanna let go and turned back to her desk. “Why
don’t you take tomorrow off,” she said as she took a seat, clearly dismissing Lydia.

  The younger woman nodded and numbly walked out to her Jeep, unsure of where to go. Her phone rang incessantly, the screen flashing a picture of Ethan and his number. She hit mute and tossed it on the passenger seat. She drove for over an hour before she found herself near her sister’s home on the outskirts of town.

  It’s better than home, she thought.

  She stood on the porch of Charlotte’s house and rang the bell. She smiled in spite of herself at the sounds inside: squeals of laughter as Sam growled playfully. He was the right kind of man to be surrounded by women. Fun and relaxed, he was not easily ruffled by anything. When he had three emotional teens on his hands, he would be ready. Charlotte had an amazing husband; she would never understand why Lydia put up with a guy like Ethan.

  She rang the bell again, and this time, Charlotte answered the door.

  “You’re a little late for dinner,” she nagged, opening the door wider to invite Lydia in. “What did you do this time?”

  “Dee Dee!” Her nieces rushed at her in a frenzy of blond curls and giggles. Lydia loved their nickname for her, given to her when Leah was young and couldn’t pronounce Lydia. Dee Dee had developed, and she’d asked the family to stop correcting the toddler and just leave it. Now the family, when everyone was on good terms, anyway, referred to her the same way.

  She allowed her nieces to knock her to the ground and tickle her. They wrestled for a bit before falling back in a heap together. She smiled at the sweet smell of lavender soap on their soft skin.

  “All right, girls,” Sam called from down the hall, “kiss Mama and Dee Dee goodnight and come brush your teeth.”

  While Sam put the girls to bed, Charlotte led her younger sister to the kitchen. She pushed a mug of hot chocolate her way as she took a sip of her own. “Better spill your side to me. I called mom when you first got here. She should be here in thirty minutes.”