The drama from the hospital room had settled to a dull roar. After many debates, online reviews, and geography research, there was an unspoken mandate over the topic of Consider Africa: agree to disagree. They were all tired of the fight and I was tired of fighting.
**********
I pulled my running shoes on, needing a reprieve. Though having a new baby in the family had brought so much joy, I couldn’t ignore the ticking of the clock. Every day that passed reminded me of what I was leaving behind, of who I was leaving behind. Every day I told myself that I had made the right decision—the only decision.
As I ran down Stacie’s street, I passed the familiar houses, pond and park. I felt a pang in my chest. It was the same desperate tug I had been discounting for weeks.
I pushed on, fighting the resistance in each stride.
I just needed my fix—however temporary it was.
But it never came.
By the time I got to the bridge, my legs felt like lead. It was the first time in nearly two years that I hadn’t been able to escape…from myself. I couldn’t take one more step; the heaviness in my chest was too unbearable.
I had spent so much time and energy trying to forget, trying to right the past, trying not to feel. And now, as I stared at the bridge in front of me, the truth was overwhelming. All along I had looked for a way out, but that was never the answer.
Stop running.
Though I had done the work, though I had made some progress, the gap between my future and my past wasn’t yet bridged. I sank to my knees and wept.
It was time to stop running.
**********
My palms grew sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel. Today I would deliver the letter. I was one stop away from closure, one stop away from peace. I had thought for weeks—months even—that in order to find healing I had to do it alone. That support had to come from within.
I was wrong.
Breakthrough rarely happens alone; mine was no exception.
The people who had been a part of my journey were catalysts to my growth and advocates in my recovery. Gratitude was far too simple a word for what they had helped me see.
Going to Africa may have been a dream for some, but it wasn’t my dream—it was my escape. It wasn’t moving forward; it was leaving the only future I wanted, behind. I was done chasing after escapes.
No matter how far I could run, it was never far enough. My problems, my hurts, my fears, my failures, all came with me.
Every. Single. Time.
I wasn’t fixed, I wasn’t whole, but I was ready.
I was ready to bridge the gap.
I was ready to move forward.
It had been more than two months since my last flashback and longer still since I was frozen in my guilt and isolated in my shame. God had sought me and He had won me. There was still much I did not understand, much my heart still could not fathom, but I knew the taste of freedom and I wasn’t going back. What God had asked of me was nothing short of everything, but what He had given back was the promise of a future.
I pulled my car in, overwhelmed at the enormity of my decision. The letter remained on my passenger seat. This was not its home; this was not its recipient. I grabbed the box out of my trunk, securing its lid and walked forward, each step easier than the last. My heart thudded hard inside my chest and my hands shook with nerves.
There were at least twenty men I could see as I approached the large open door. I scanned the room, feeling faint as one by one the eyes of the firehouse were on me. I saw Briggs tap Kai on the shoulder, causing him to turn, causing him to blink me into focus. I took five more steps, stopping just a foot from the floor inside the station.
I waited there for him, making certain he was willing to see me. In record time, we were standing face to face. I held out the box to him.
“This is for you,” I said.
Perplexed, he took it from my hands, opening the cardboard lid.
“Shoes?” he asked, looking from them to me.
“Yes, my running shoes. I’m done running, Kai. I’m done running from God, from life...from you. I’m not going to Africa. I want this future, I want you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “I love you, Kai.”
“Oh, Pele,” Kai said, dropping the box and lifting me up off the ground hugging me tight.
We kissed, holding onto each other with no intention of ever letting go. The men inside the station went wild. Their whistling and clapping continued even after our kiss broke, laughter escaped from us both.
I could not contain my joy.
“I may share a piece of your past,” Kai said as he dropped to his knee, “but you are the only future I could ever want. Will you marry me, Tori?”
Without a single doubt, I yelled my response for all to hear, “Yes! I’ll marry you, Kai!”
Kai rose, grabbing me around the waist. Pulling me close to him, he kissed me again, this time with renewed fervor and passion.
Our story may have begun in the midst of heartache and loss, but our future would forever be rooted in hope and love.
EPILOGUE
Hand in hand we walked up the grassy hill. Her grave was marked with fresh flowers and a bench seat that had been cleared of all debris. We sat, Kai wrapping his arm around my shoulders as I opened the letter.
I took a deep breath before I began:
“Dear Anna,
I never knew you, but there were many days it felt as if you were more alive inside of me than I was. I used to dream of what your laugh would have sounded like, how your eyes would have sparkled, how your hair would have looked in the sunshine. There are many things I’ll never get to know about you, but even in your absence you have managed to teach me. Your mom talked about your love for God, your hope in Him, your salvation. I didn’t understand those things. I didn’t think I could ever believe in Him that way—the way you did.
I tried to be your savior, Anna, and I thought all this time that I had failed you. I thought that I had contributed to your death, that I had taken your life away from your family. But I realize now that I was never in control of that.
I did try to save you. I wanted more than anything to see you alive, to feel your heartbeat, to hear your breath. But I can no longer accept the blame for your death.
The forgiveness your mom offered me is the same forgiveness I must offer myself every day that you’re not here. I’ve found faith, Anna—in your Savior. You helped me find Him. You helped me know Him for the first time. Thank you for that.
I will never forget you.
Goodbye, Anna.”
I wept into Kai’s arms as he rocked me slowly, feeling the release I once never believed possible. My letter turned to ashes in the wind as a tiny spark took it away in an instant.
Anna would always be a part of me and I knew in some way I was a part of her, too.
The End.
John 16:33 (NLT):
“Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart! I have overcome the world."
Author’s Note: Recovery
Recovery.
A necessary evil.
Often it feels like a hike that’s uphill both ways, in the snow, while wearing a swimsuit and no shoes.
Sound familiar? Whether you need recovery for something you did to someone else, something done to you, or something you are currently doing, recovery is hard and always painful.
Though Tori’s journey is purely fictional, her recovery from shame and guilt is far from unique. I, too, have battled with those issues as I have explored the depths of my addictions and coping mechanisms.
Though my addiction was easy to mask and hide from others—even those closest to me—my body and mind bore the scars. Listening to the lies, believing them, and acting on them have a heavy price to pay, but thankfully, it was a price that was already paid for me.
My need for a Savior came in the midst of my recovery. Though I had claimed to know Christ all my life and had grown up in a faith-based home,
I had no idea the magnitude of my need for Him. It was in a dark pit of despair where He found me, a pit I was certain I would never climb out of. I believed I was a lost cause. My addiction was a weed, choking out all hope in the pit that surrounded me.
And then...I cried out.
It was not the cry of countless years prior, the one that was full of empty promises which led me back to my old ways. Instead, it was a cry that marked my desperation; I could not go on without Him.
That is where my Savior found me.
That is where my Savior won me back to Him.
Often people think recovery is a journey of self-reflection and healing. With that being true, it is also about others: those we have wronged, those we have hurt, and those we have lied to and manipulated in order to keep our masks on tight.
Without the process of “making amends” just like Tori did in this story, recovery is only surface deep. God desires our heart—our whole stinkin’, rotten, black-as-night heart.
And then, only then, change can happen.
Isolation is the enemy of recovery. I continue to learn this lesson over and over. Every time I thought I could handle it on my own, I was knocked down. Truth finally took root in my heart once I became vulnerable enough to be held accountable by those who loved me. Re-learning how to think, how to deal, how to live, is difficult, but sharing with others can lighten that load tremendously.
I am not fixed, but I am far from the pit that once consumed me in darkness.
If you are in the pit, it is not too late for you. You are not too far from God’s reach, or too far from His redemption.
There is hope for you.
Cry out. Your Savior awaits.
Psalm 103:2-4 (NIV)
Praise the Lord O my soul, and forget not all His benefits. Who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, and crowns you with love and compassion.
Special Thanks:
God: Your relentless pursuit of me, your unfathomable grace, your endless forgiveness, your all-consuming passion, your boundless love, your unreachable depths, your constant faithfulness.
Without You I am nothing.
Husband: You are a rare gift, Tim Deese. Your love for me is a reflection of your heart for Him. You have pursued me, you have fought for me, and you have won my heart for all of eternity. It is yours and you are mine. Thank you for letting me stay up until the wee hours of the morning to write. Thank you for pretending not to notice when I stole your energy drinks in order to stay up, and for your forgiveness when you did notice! Ha! Thank you for believing I was great before I ever typed a word. Your support was the anchor I needed…as it always is. I love you.
My Boys: Preston (7) and Lincoln (4). Though you were often sound asleep while I typed, there were plenty of times that my story was a distraction in our day to day lives. Your patience has not gone unnoticed. God has blessed me with two smart, independent, loving, sensitive, active and overall amazing boys. I am more grateful for you with each passing day. I love you both to infinity and beyond.
Family: My life is made up of many wonderful people and so many of those I’m privileged to claim as my family (whether by blood or by marriage). I wish I could list you all by name.
I love each one of you so very much!
Dad and Mom: Thank you to my amazing parents who read my entire manuscript aloud to each other despite my utter disapproval and humiliation...haha! Thank you for showing me how to love and how to be loved. I am blessed to be your daughter.
Aimee Thomas: Thank you for thinking our “reading parties” are cool—even when other people may find them weird. You are an endless supply of passion and dreams; you are an inspiration.
I love you, sister.
Ashley Brahms: Thank you for reading my original “sloppy-copy” and for loving it just the same. Your many phone calls and texts over this last year have reminded me that home is relevant only to love, not location. I love you, sister.
Friends: Without your love, support and continual encouragement, this book would have ended around chapter five. I am SO blessed for the diverse friendships God has given me. To all my friends in the Pacific Northwest…all the way over to my friends on the East Coast (and especially to all my cyber friends!), please accept my deepest, most heartfelt thank you. You have enriched my life.
Kacy Koffa: You are a tangible representation of faithfulness in my life. Our friendship has withstood the trials of many seasons, yet our bond continues to strengthen with time. I am undeserving of such loyalty and devotion. I love you.
Kim Southwick: You are the older sister I never had, the bosom buddy I always wanted, and the other half I never knew was missing…until you found me. Your friendship is matchless. I love you.
Lara Brahms: You are my little ray of sunshine. Thank you for the countless hours you have spent in “fiction land” with me and for pretending it was totally normal. Thank you for reminding me to laugh—a lot. I love you.
Nicki Davis: Let us never underestimate the bond that can form over purses and books! I value our many forms of techy-communication in a day. I love you friend.
Rebekah Zollman: Your friendship has been such a sweet answer to prayer this year. Your honesty, empathy, and love continue to challenge me to be a better wife, mom and friend. I love you.
Renee Deese: I find it quite funny that you can fit under all three categories: family, friend and editor. Words cannot express how grateful I am for you little sister. Your “Renee-ness” has blessed me beyond measure. Thank you for the MANY hours you have poured into my manuscript, for your opinions, and for your constant affirmation. You are a rare gem; I treasure you greatly. I love you.
Beta Readers: Many, many thanks to all my beta readers. You inspire me to write from my heart. I love each of you: Ashley Brahms, Aimee Thomas, Bill Deese, Bethany Deese, Cara Dyson, Helen Deese, Irina Owens, Kacy Koffa, Katie Karin, Kim Southwick, Lara Brahms, Meredith Hall, Nicki Davis, Rebekah Zollman, Renee Deese.
Community Girls: Irina Owens and Katie Karin. Thanks you for your prayers, your love, and your encouragement. My life has been fuller because you are in it.
Cover Design: Thank you Sarah Hanson at Okay
Creations! You are brilliant. I am in love with your work!
Check out: http://www.okaycreations.com.
Georgia Varozza: Your words changed my life. I cannot thank you enough for your time, your critique, and your belief in me.
I am forever in your debt.
Regeneration Ministries: I found my “voice” during ReGen. Thank you Watermark Community Church for providing such an amazing recovery ministry…my heart and life will never be the same.
Thank you.
All for Anna is the first in a series of novels.
Please visit http://www.nicoledeese.com for more information.
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