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

by B. D. Riehl

  Lydia laughed out loud. Now that Michelle mentioned it, she did remember. “Well, no one had good hair then; remember how I used to have my bangs?”

  “I seem to remember them being extra curly.”

  Lydia snorted as she effortlessly wove a French braid down one side, and then sorted the rest of Michelle’s thick hair into sections. “Right. My hair wasn’t sure if it wanted to be straight or curly back then, so I had a perm and my bangs grew out before the rest of my hair did. So I had just my bangs re-permed. I still shudder when I think about that. What was I thinking?” She groped behind her on the bed for a band and tied off the second braid. “All set.”

  Michelle ran her hands down each braid and smiled at Lydia. She turned to face her, an arm on the bed. “Are you nervous about tonight?” she asked.

  Lydia thought for a moment. “The Killing Fields were crazy. I can’t get that terror out of my mind. Like when I first saw images from the Holocaust. It’s unbelievable how people can treat each other like that. As awful as that was, it’s in the past. It’s kind of easy to put it in a box as something horrible that happened once.” She leaned back on the bed and shrugged. “Tonight, we’re going to see things that are happening now, right in front of us. I think it will be awful. I mean, this isn’t because people are betraying their country, or because some crazy man has irrational expectations and plans. This crime doesn’t make sense. Why do people make money off this? Can’t people who want to have sex find a willing partner instead of raping little girls or hiring prostitutes? I just don’t get it.”

  “Me neither. I’m not looking forward to being there, not able to do anything.”

  “What do you mean?” Lydia tucked her legs underneath her and turned toward Michelle.

  “Well, we know what’s going on behind the scenes, right?” Michelle lowered her voice, even though it was just the two of them. “We know there are little girls in there somewhere. I think I’ll want to shout at all of those pervs that are enjoying Walking Street, ya know? I’ll want to run in each brothel and save them all. And kick a few guys in the downstairs on the way out.” She jutted her chin in the direction of the bathroom. “I wish I could squash them like I did that hairy spider in there.”

  “Why don’t they do that? I mean, why not take the police and go raid each place and take out girls? The government has to know it’s happening if a place like Deliverance knows.”

  Michelle snorted, “I can imagine the government doesn’t mind the money being poured into the economy here. If a perv is here for girls, he has to eat and shop, get cab rides, hotels and things, right? Not bad for the country. Plus,” she lowered her voice even more, “a big money maker like prostitution and trafficking…well, there has to be mafia influence or something behind it, right? Like the drug cartels? That’s a nasty group that will do anything for money.”

  Lydia could not understand that. Was money really that important? It made no sense to her. Sure, she enjoyed nice things, and she didn’t hate money. But she was certain she’d never murder to get it. Of course, she’d never had needs such as those she saw in Cambodia and as she was sure she would also find in Thailand. She wondered as she and Michelle readied to go to the market how her sister and baby Noah were doing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte winced and held the phone away from her ear as a loud shriek in the background rang in her ear. Once it ended, she laughed and asked Sam how he was holding up. She barely heard his answer over a burst of giggles and loud squeals echoing off the kitchen where Sam was trying to talk while the girls ate dinner. The sounds were so familiar her heart ached.

  Just one week ago she’d wondered how she would survive the dull routine of her life. Today she couldn’t wait to get back to it. The late long nights of nursing Noah gave her a lot of time to think. And pray.

  While she wouldn’t call her time in Cambodia thus far a vacation, it was a rare opportunity to be still before the Lord: to pray, to read Scripture, to take a long look at her heart. It was amazing the thinking and soul-searching that could take place when a woman had no access to the Internet.

  As she sat with Noah for hours each day and long into the night, she had an opportunity that being a mother and wife hadn’t afforded her. She had time. Undistracted, un-Pinterest inspired, un-blogworthy, un-Facebook-intruding time.

  Even when Leah was the only baby, she had responsibilities: laundry, dinner, play dates (which were really just coffee outings that involved babies sleeping in carriers at their mothers’ feet), bills to pay, and so on. Here, with this baby, the only demands on her time were his needs.

  That morning, Charlotte read the parable of the sower and the seed. Usually she skipped it because she had heard it so often, but something her pastor had said recently stood out and caused her to look over the verses more carefully. As she read, she could hear his soft and sure voice…

  “Turn with me to Matthew 13. Here, Jesus is sitting in a boat, while large crowds spread out before Him on the shore. Can you see it? The wind tousling their hair? Mother’s hushing children so they can hear? Jesus’s words repeated back through the crowds? Maybe it was hot outside. Maybe it was cold. Everyone was there for a different reason, but they all wanted to know what Jesus had to say.

  “Matthew tells us He began to speak in parables.”

  Charlotte re-read the parable of the sower and the seed and again thought back to what Pastor Greg had said.…

  “Now Matthew 13:18-23. The Word of God says:

  ‘Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart. This is the one on whom seed was sown beside the road. The one on whom seed was sown on the rocky places, this is the man who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no firm root in himself, but is only temporary, and when affliction or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he falls away. And the one on whom seed was sown among the thorns, this is the man who hears the word, and the worry of the world and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful. And the one on whom the seed was sown on the good soil, this is the man who hears the word and understands it; who indeed bears fruit and brings forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty.’

  “I used to think that everyone was one soil or another,” he had said. “But now I wonder; is it just me? Or can everyone relate at some point in his or her life with each soil or situation described? I, myself, have been on the road that seed has fallen on, without understanding and vulnerable to the enemy snatching the Truth away. I’ve been the rocky places. I hear the truth and receive it with joy but have no depth for roots to grow. I’ve been excited about something God has shown me, but when I tell a doubtful or nasty person about it and they ridicule me for it, my joy fades and the truth withers and dies in me.

  “I’ve also been, so many times, the thorny places. Worry overwhelms me. ‘God, how can this be? How can this be the answer?’ I ask and wonder. Or I think, ‘If only we had this or that, then we could really spread the Word or make a change.’ Worry over this world, the deceitfulness of the need for wealth take over and choke out the fruitfulness of the gospel.”

  Charlotte remembered fondly how he had looked out over the congregation then with a misty smile and a great pause.

  “Then, dear friends, there are times that I have been that good soil. Receptive. Because of God’s mighty work in me, I hear the gospel and understand it. And by the grace of God, I’m able to produce fruit…”

  Charlotte sat with her Bible open in her lap while Noah slept and shook her head in wonder. He was right. She had been each of these at some point. It was glaringly clear that during her years as a wife and mother, the seed had fallen among the thorns. She could see clearly for the first time and was so ashamed.

  Sure, she had been involved in church and active in Bible study. She had numerous opportunities to hear the Word. But had she heard?r />
  She saw now that the truth fell on piles of laundry. Seed was scattered through messy bathrooms, worn furniture, messy diapers, naughty attitudes; both hers and the girls’—the demands of being a good wife, and so much more.

  She looked at Noah sprawled on his back, a little fist next to his head, curled fingers twitching as he took deep, peaceful breaths. She listened to the chaotic scene unfolding in her home and shook her head.

  She was able to get a little word in with each girl, told them how very much she loved them, proud that she held her tears at bay. Once Sam was back on the line, they exchanged I love yous and signed off.

  Charlotte would need to call Sam at a different time when the girls were asleep to really explain what was happening in her heart. She took in the small, sparsely furnished room, and thought of the filthy streets just beyond the grounds of Deliverance. And yet here, in this place, God was present and active, much more than she had seen in her life in Idaho. She knew an important truth was ready and waiting to fall fresh upon her; what was it? Those nasty thorns were still in the way, choking it out.

  There was a light tap at the door, and Charlotte rose to answer it. Megan regularly checked in with Charlotte to offer help or an update on their search for Noah and Maly’s family. Each time Charlotte heard the knock, she held her breath, terrified that the news would be that family had been found, that they were there for Noah.

  Megan saw the question on Charlotte’s face and shook her head. Charlotte exhaled, her relief evident.

  “Charlotte, does your husband know how attached you’ve become to Noah?” Megan wasted no time in asking.

  The other woman hung her head in response.

  “No, I don’t want you to be ashamed.” Megan rushed to explain. “It makes sense to me that you would be attached. I do think your husband should know exactly what’s happening to your heart, though.”

  Charlotte opened her mouth to answer when Noah began to whimper. “He just fell asleep a little while ago after he nursed, but he’s been a bit restless today. Would you walk with me? He does pretty well in the sling when I move around, and I think we could both use some air.”

  With Noah settled close, her hand spread protectively against his back, they walked down the hall, past the rooms full of children. Charlotte heard the teacher in one room call out something in a singsong voice and the echo of the children.

  “You know, I used to think that daycare was evil,” Charlotte confessed with a laugh. “People have asked if I plan to return to work, and I involuntarily shudder at the thought of sending my kids to a facility to have them cared for. Being here it doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “I’ve always admired women that stay home with their kids. I think that takes guts,” Megan said, and led the way to a small courtyard outside tucked under a few shady trees. Three benches were arranged in a semicircle and a stone cross was set in the middle.

  As Megan sat, Charlotte made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Says the single woman with an incredible job.” She bounced up and down, looking down into Noah’s face. When she looked up again at Megan, she was astonished at the pained look on her face. Instantly, Charlotte heard her words and felt the heat of shame creep up her neck.

  Megan cleared her throat. “You know, Charlotte, I do have an amazing job. I’m happy to be available to these kids and their parents. I’m proud to be part of the work God is allowing us to do here. But I have to admit, I would give just about anything to be a wife and a mother. In that area, I’m still sitting on this side of hope.”

  Charlotte was quiet, unsure of what to say, afraid to say something even more foolish.

  The silence stretched between them for a minute more before Megan spoke again. “Did you know I used to work at a bank? I’m pretty good with numbers and had a way with customers. I worked as a teller for years before I became a teller manager. I was young and proud of how quickly I was making a way for myself in the business world. I met a banker from another branch at a meeting, and we began to date. He always encouraged me to go for more.

  “He was ambitious and funny, but also mean. After we’d been together long enough to discuss the future, he said he wouldn’t marry me until my FICO score was better. He intended to be a millionaire and would not have his wife’s score stop him from investing in real estate. I was constantly told that I needed to move up in the bank, work more, earn more, be more. Ironically, he took me home one spring to meet his family, and we attended church with his parents.

  “I don’t believe they had a relationship with the Lord, but viewed Christianity as something Americans did. They didn’t know a missionary was coming to speak that day. He gave the gospel message in no uncertain terms. He laid out the truth of mankind’s sin, from the Garden of Eden to present. He explained God’s plan of salvation and Jesus’s saving work on the cross and triumphant resurrection from the dead.

  “As he spoke, I realized I’d been having little naggings in my heart for years. All the pushing that my boyfriend did, hit me wrong. I knew in my gut that even if I accomplished all of that, even if I did raise my credit score to his standards and became president of a bank, somehow it would never be enough; I would always be unhappy.

  “The man I loved and whom I thought loved me had such expectations and demands of me. At first, when the missionary began to speak, I felt discouraged as he spoke of God’s expectations of me. Then he surprised me when he asked if I had lived up to God’s standard. ‘Of course you haven’t!’ he’d yelled. ‘No one can! Except Jesus.’” Megan’s voice boomed as she imitated the missionary.

  Charlotte smiled, captivated by her testimony.

  “It was amazing. For years I had not been enough, and here I was hearing I was really not enough to Someone much more impressive than my boyfriend. But then he told me the most amazing things. Jesus was enough and He was enough for my sake. Mine.” She tapped her heart. “He gave an altar call, and I realized I had to make a choice: believe and change my life, or stay in my seat and let the man next to me dictate my life.

  “I think my boyfriend and his family were mortified when I went forward, but I didn’t care. I really heard it from him on our way back to our hometown. In the weeks that followed, I couldn’t get enough of reading my Bible, and it struck me how much Jesus helped and reached out. He never denied anyone who needed Him. I passed up a promotion at work that would have taken up more time and, instead, volunteered with a shelter downtown. My boyfriend found out and took me to a fancy dinner near the shelter. We sat on the patio with views of downtown all around us.

  “He pointed out the main office of our bank, a tall tower in the middle of a dozen others, and said, ‘There. That’s where you can be. The sky is the limit. Together we can run that bank and make a great life for ourselves.’ I remember clearly how the summer breeze felt against my skin, rustling my business blouse. I had a bite of delicious, fluffy roll in my mouth and was waiting for a scrumptious steak that I had ordered and red wine to complement. I looked at my surroundings, listened to the conversations around me. It was all vanity to me, and based on the way he looked at that building he pointed at, I realized it would never be vanity to him. I took a slow sip of wine and told him I had contacted the missionary from the church and planned to go on a summer trip with his organization.”

  Megan shook her head sadly. “He was irate. ‘What a rotten waste,’ he said to me. He said more, but it’s too ugly to repeat. I finally saw the entirety of what my new commitment was: an all or nothing—no matter what—commitment. I told him good-bye, went on my trip, and have never regretted it.”

  Charlotte sat next to Megan on the bench; Noah curled against her body, causing sweat to trickle down her back in the humid air. “I think you have an incredible testimony, Megan.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, God has done some serious work here.” She patted her heart. “That’s for sure. But the reason I shared that with you is this: No matter where we’re planted, it will feel mundane at times. I had a great job
at a bank, and I was bored out of my skull. But if God asked me to do that now, I would count the work important because He said so. I love it here and really don’t want to be anywhere else. That doesn’t mean there have not been times the routine got to me. I am often lonely without a family of my own. I get tired of such poverty all around me. I meet new people often, but they move on and more come in, and it’s a great big never-ending cycle.”

  “Like laundry,” Charlotte said in self-mockery.

  “Well, I don’t know about that. I guess what I’m saying, as cliché as it sounds, Charlotte, is that the grass is always greener on the other side. Life can be mundane. We’re not supposed to be comfortable this side of heaven, anyway. Although I love this ministry, I long for a family. Although you love your family, you want excitement. God wants us to be faithful and ready to obey Him no matter what. I need to obey Him in this place, single or not. You need to obey Him at home doing laundry.…” She elbowed Charlotte playfully. “Or here, taking care of this little angel. Because He has put a task before us, it is holy and worthy of our care, not because of how we feel about it, but because He has set it before us. Remember that verse? ‘Present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice to God.’ It’s in Romans 12. As remarkable as this boy and this situation is, your life at home is just as remarkable because He has set it before you to serve Him with. Rejoice in His use of you.”

  Both women watched Noah sleep, a thoughtful quiet replacing the strained one from moments before.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lydia couldn’t keep up with the various smells and sounds and sights that pulsed around her. Hawkers selling their wares chattered on with customers, bargaining and bowing. Mopeds roared through the crowds, carrying sometimes up to five people on the back. She stared at one loaded down with a refrigerator. A giggle bubbled up from deep in her belly. How was that possible?