by B. D. Riehl
Her face must have given her thoughts away because Michelle put her arm around her shoulders, and whispered, “No, just listen.”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to give back what I’ve taken. Every time someone looks at those pictures or videos, those women lose another chunk of their dignity. They lose another piece of their soul. I want to give back what I took. I want to help deliver these girls from guys like I used to be. I didn’t go on Walking Street because I didn’t need to see it. I’ve seen the same depravity in a basement in America. I didn’t need or want to experience it here. I don’t want to see those girls in that way; I just want to help them out.”
Tears welled in Lydia’s eyes. She shook her head and glared at Luke. “Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to tell me I need to be taken on some camping trip? That I’m the problem?” She shook Michelle’s arm off of her shoulders and stood, jabbing a finger in Luke’s surprised face.
“I’ve been on a camping trip, or don’t you remember when your pal Jay felt me up while I was sleeping on a bus. When your sweet Christian,” she spat the word like a curse, “girlfriends gossiped about me and spread lies about me. They saw and they didn’t help me. They knew I was sleeping and that he took advantage, but they hated me from the beginning and spread lies. So I did my best to cope. They hated me already, so I gave them reason to hate me more. They’re jealous of my body, so I’m sure to give them the view they need to gossip about.”
Her voice became hysterical and high pitched. She could hear herself and knew she made no sense, but her voice of reason was stuffed deep inside and wouldn’t come out. Years of hurt and frustration poured out of her.
“You all sit in class and church and pray and give the right answers. You all stick together with your Christian words and rhetoric and it means nothing! Then those guys call at me in the hall, whisper dirty things to me as I pass, or grab at me when no one is looking, on their way to chapel or Bible class. You’re all a heap of rotting garbage, but you can’t smell your decay because you all smell the same. And now you tell me here tonight, after worship and communion to this all-knowing, all-loving God of yours, that I’ve been the temptress from Proverbs leading you away to the open grave!”
She stood over them, nose flared, breathing hard, throat sore, head throbbing. She wanted to storm off, but the sand at her feet was like cement.
Michelle gazed up at her for a full minute before she began to clap.
Lydia, incredulous, turned her head toward Luke, her eyes darting between them when he, too, began to clap. They stood and applauded her like two very polite golf spectators.
Lydia clapped her hands over her ears and sat back down on the log.
“Lydia, I think that’s the first time you’ve been transparent since I’ve known you.” Michelle crouched on her knees before her, tears in her eyes. “I had no idea that had happened to you. I’m so, so sorry.”
Lydia tensed when Michelle hugged her, but the other girl held on tight. The small crackling around Lydia’s heart spread until the thick armor of bitterness shattered. She wrapped her arms around Michelle’s neck and sobbed.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Michelle on her knees in the dirt, their arms intertwined, Luke standing nearby, hands shoved deep in his pockets. When the sobs finally subsided, Lydia noticed tears streaming down Michelle’s face.
“Why are you crying?” she sniffed, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.
“Because I hate what you’ve been through. I hate that you’re hurting,” Michelle answered, as she also wiped her eyes.
Lydia looked to Luke, who swallowed hard. He looked like he could cry right along with them. “Seriously? You’re crying for me?”
Michelle nodded and Luke crouched next to them.
“Lydia, I’m sorry that those things happened,” Luke said. “That’s why I started to tell you all this. I came to Central Valley after all that, but I heard the rumors, and I didn’t say anything. I avoided you in school and church because your clothes were so revealing. It was difficult to look at you. But I was so busy trying to be appropriate that I forgot to love. I didn’t check facts and assumed things instead. I’m sorry that guys like Jay are out there,” Luke continued, “and that you’ve been a victim. I’m sorry at the poor representation you’ve seen of Christ at our school. But,” he ducked his head and sought out her eyes, “please don’t judge God on His people or even on people that claim to be His. Take Him at His word. Take Him for who He says He is, not for the mess we all make trying to figure Him out.”
Lydia wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I don’t know if I can. For so long I’ve watched so-called Christians tote their Bibles around and talk about prayer as if it were some magic word, and…I just don’t know if I can separate God from that image—that fake, plastic image. I mean, really, what sets Him apart from Buddha or Gandhi, Vishnu or even Zeus? In all religions you have your devoted followers and your wannabes. But what hope does any of it really offer other than something nice to think about? No matter what you say, the world is still like that awful place we saw tonight. There is pain and suffering and serious need. If God is the Creator you all claim He is, why is there so much despair and devastation? Couldn’t He fix it? Shouldn’t He?”
Michelle and Luke gave her similar soft smiles; she could hardly separate their faces through her blurry tears. She shrugged as if to say, it can’t be fixed.
Luke patted her shoulder in a rough, big brother kind of way. “I think that light Paul was talking about is exclusive to Jesus and His work in people. And I know that we’re going to see a roaring fire tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty
Charlotte was finally able to coax Noah into taking a bottle. She felt both triumphant and melancholy about the achievement. Her girls had taken bottles easily, and although it had symbolized the end of nursing and babyhood, it didn’t mean she was finished caring for them. With Noah, she knew time was running out; even if they didn’t find his family, she would have to leave him soon.
Her flight home was just six short days away. Deliverance had arranged for her to meet with her sister in Bangkok and fly home with the group. She both dreaded that day and ached for it. After speaking with her family the day before, she was even more homesick. Sam was doing an incredible job as a single dad and the girls delighted in telling her about their park visits and dinner making extravaganzas. Sam made everything a game, and she had never seen her girls so happy. Maybe they didn’t miss her as badly as she thought they would. Her throat closed at the thought, and she concentrated on the baby in her arms instead.
When Noah was first handed to her, she was entranced. He was so lovely and soft. She was amazed at how this boy, which she hadn’t known about days before, fit so perfectly in her arms. She was even prideful at his clinginess to her.
But the sleepless nights were getting to Charlotte, and her emotions became a jumbled mess. Once the initial coziness of nursing a baby wore off, she grew confused at the purpose of this. She was in a foreign country on a wild mission trip, and here she was in a small room caring for an infant.
Charlotte had felt like a baby factory for years with the repetitive cycle of being pregnant then nursing. This mission trip had turned into a picture of her life at home…different country, same story. She had hoped this trip would jolt her out of the funk she’d found herself in. Instead, Charlotte became even more confused as to why there was a funk to rise out of in the first place.
Her entire life Charlotte had dreamt of marriage and motherhood and had known she would be a stay-at-home mom. She was blessed to be living her dreams. So why could she not rise out of this slump? She loved her girls, and while she had dabbled with the idea of a job at times, she knew there was nowhere she would rather be than at home with them. She missed their little faces and wished she could go home early. Would it matter so much if she did?
She stroked Noah’s cheek with one finger, while holding the bottle with the rest of her hand. He
reached up to grasp her wrist. Her heart clenched.
What is the point of this, Lord? If I hadn’t been here, surely You would have provided another way for this boy. And now that I am here…now that I know him…Oh, Lord, how can I ever leave him?
The fog that clouded her daily routine at home began to fill in around the corners of her mind. The idea that she was only useful for nursing and caring for children hurt. It hurt her pride and her heart. Even now, the fact that her family was doing so well at home without her was crushing. Not only had she been useful for motherhood all these years, now it seemed she couldn’t take pride in that either.
Her dissatisfaction stung; she knew it was wrong. For a year Charlotte had cried out to the Lord to awaken her, to give her joy, to help her cast off these feelings. When her mom had approached her to accompany Lydia on this trip, she thought the Lord was finally answering her. Charlotte needed a jolt, a purpose outside of managing a household.
Now Lydia was in Thailand without her, and she was aching, torn in a thousand different directions. Hadn’t she settled this with Megan days before? Hadn’t they come to a beautiful conclusion to “bloom where you’re planted” and all that? So why did she feel empty, worthless? Like she fell short and would never catch up?
What purpose, Lord? What purpose? I have to give him back and I love him now. I am going to go home and nothing has changed, except the realization they don’t even need me. Why did You bring me here?
She had a headache and felt like she’d swallowed a hot rock.
Noah finished the bottle and drifted to sleep. Charlotte stood abruptly, jostling him. She brushed a kiss across his cheek when he whimpered and set him in the bassinet. He stayed asleep, and Charlotte grabbed her shoes before she closed the door quietly behind her.
Megan’s office was down the hall from her room. As she’d hoped, the younger woman was at her desk and invited her in.
“Megan, I don’t know what’s happening to me. We had such a great talk the other day, and I was doing okay. I really was. But now, I just…it’s like I’m going crazy.”
Megan’s chair squeaked as she sat back and gestured for Charlotte to sit in the chair across from her. “Maybe it would help if you just let it all out.” She twirled her hand around in the air. “Sanctuary. No judgment. Spill.”
And spill she did. From her feelings of being a baby factory, to her admission of boredom as a stay-at-home mom; her feelings of inadequacy and unimportance; her love for the Lord, but her questioning of His purpose for her. She spilled and cried and babbled and spilled while Megan sat quietly and patiently. Just listening.
“I feel like I have to get out of here and scream. Can you point me in the right direction?”
Megan sat back and smiled. “I know just the place. Mind if I come with you?”
They let the ladies in the nursery know that Noah was sleeping and left him in their care. Charlotte felt comforted that he had successfully taken a bottle and wouldn’t need her for hours as they boarded a Deliverance moped and sped through the city. The wind in Charlotte’s face and sun on her back began to clear the fog, just enough for her to breathe again. Her heart still ached, but some of the heaviness streamed off of her with the wind. Megan pulled the moped into a vast dirt parking lot dotted with tuk tuks.
“Good,” Megan’s voice was muffled until she pulled her helmet off, “it’s not very busy.”
“Where are we?” Charlotte asked, as she set her helmet next to Megan’s on the moped seat. As far as she could tell, they were in the middle of the jungle. Charlotte noticed tourists walking down a wide stone path that disappeared into the lush landscape.
“Angkor Wat. Cambodia’s great tourist attraction.”
“A temple?” Charlotte couldn’t imagine why Megan brought her to a pagan temple when she was seeking her faith.
“Well, the ruins of one. The Khmer people built it for the Hindu god Vishnu. Now it’s a Buddhist place.” Megan gathered the tangled wisps of hair that had escaped from her helmet on the ride and secured them in a ponytail.
“So this place is twice as ungodly?” Charlotte commented nervously.
Megan turned to her and held out her hands. Charlotte grasped them, thankful at the quick bond between them.
“Charlotte, yes, this place was once dedicated to idols. And according to the people that live here, it does still belong to Buddha. But we belong to Christ. We are not here to worship; we are here to observe and learn. I have something incredible to show you that not many know about. I know that Christ is in us and no weapon, including spiritual, formed against us will stand. I do pray each time I come here before I go in. The evil one cannot inhabit us, but he can oppress us. Will you trust me and pray with me?”
Charlotte agreed, but felt a shiver run through her, despite the humid air. The women bowed their heads; two believers crouched together at their Father’s feet.
“Lord God our Father, You—and You alone—are God. We praise Your name. We thank You for our struggles, for they bring us to Your feet. Would you walk with us in this place, Lord? There is no God but You.
“I know the Enemy wants to keep us from learning, from growing, from sharing. Lord, before we walk into this place, we put on Your armor. We gird our loins with truth. You alone are God. We put on the breastplate of righteousness. You have taken our sin and cast it away; we are no longer separate from You, but righteous in Your sight because of Your work on the cross. We shod our feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; may we rejoice in it and share it with anyone You lead us to. We take up the shield of faith against the evil one. We believe You God. We trust You, even when we don’t understand.”
Charlotte’s throat closed. She knew this to be true: She had complete faith in God, in mind and spirit, if not in emotion. It was her feelings that were getting in the way, but what were feelings? Feelings didn’t dictate faith or salvation. The chill she felt earlier was replaced with a rush of warmth so real she opened her eyes to see what had caused it. There was nothing around them, just the security of Christ. She closed her eyes in agreement with the rest of Megan’s prayer.…
“We put on the helmet of salvation: You have saved us, Lord. Keep our thoughts right before You. We take up the sword of the Spirit. This, Your word, is sharper than any double-edged sword. Finally, as we walk through this place, may we keep in mind what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. You, and You alone are God. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“And amen,” Charlotte agreed.
They squeezed hands before they let go and turned to walk to the ruins.
Chapter Twenty-One
The stone causeway led them through the canopy of tropical trees and into an open space where either side was surrounded by large vats of water.
“That’s actually a moat,” Megan explained. “The Khmer people built a vast empire with this as the center. The moat was supposedly once filled with crocodiles.”
Charlotte looked to her right at the water, which glistened in the morning sun. The thought of fierce reptiles swimming hungrily below the surface sent a small shiver through her. She focused on the walk.
“It sure is a long way, isn’t it?”
“Just about four hundred feet now,” Megan commented.
Charlotte smiled to herself. Sam was always talking to her that way: distance in feet, directions as east or west, instead of right or left. She could never track that way. Her husband was about six feet tall, and she tried to do the math of how many Sams lying down end-to-end they had to go. Thinking about it made her ache for her family. She shook her head, as if to rid herself of the homesickness, and pointed to a few shaded booths ahead of them.
“What are those booths?”
Megan turned to her with a raised brow. “They’re actually bikes. The locals are ingenious with what they can fit onto a moped or bike. They bring large baskets of fruit to sell to tourists. Here…” she pointed to one as they came closer, “have you ever tried pap
aya?”
“Just the stuff in the canned tropical fruit from the grocery store,” Charlotte answered.
Megan wagged her finger at her. “Then you haven’t lived.”
Megan spoke to the woman holding a green fruit in her hand and what looked like a knife in the other. The two exchanged smiles and bows. Megan handed money over and the woman sliced off two sections of the pink fruit.
Despite the early time of day, the sun was hot and the air damp with humidity. The papaya was deliciously refreshing.
The two walked again. And walked and walked.
It seemed to Charlotte that no matter how many steps they took, the giant arch, she could now see at the end of the path, stayed the same distance from them. Eventually, they did get close enough to see the details. The arch was covered in greenery and moss. Charlotte was instantly enchanted. The structure had a giant face on the top. A man, eyes closed, with a small, peaceful smile on his face invited them to walk through. Charlotte gasped when she saw their destination was still a great distance away. Not wanting to complain, she, instead, asked questions about the carving.
“Is that supposed to be Buddha?” she asked Megan.
“It’s actually King Suryavarman II, who had the temple and grounds built. Like I said before, this was originally a temple dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu. That face is Suryavarman’s, most likely in meditation. It’s actually all over the temple.”
“So how is this a Buddhist site now?”
“From what I understand, monks in the early 1900s took over and made this a Buddhist place.” She shrugged. Sometimes history was distorted and not everyone was an expert.
When the women finally arrived at the ruins themselves, Charlotte felt energized. The trek had done her good. Charlotte had been inside for the most part, nursing Noah and helping around the daycare, when she could, for the last week. To be outdoors with the sun on her skin felt wonderful.
A giant stone structure rose before them, conical-shaped spires at the top. Charlotte thought they looked like gray asparagus heads and said so. Megan told her they were meant to resemble closed lotus buds.