by T. K. Chapin
My mind jumped back to the Johnsons and how William beat his poor wife. “Humanity is ugly. It’s not pretty. It’s in a fallen state. If you find ten righteous in that city, would you spare the whole city? Remember that with Abraham talking to God?”
Nathan nodded slowly, and tears continued down his cheeks. “We need God,” he replied. “All of us. It’s not just a saying we sing in a song or post on Facebook. It’s a way of life. Or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be.” Wiping his eyes, he took a deep breath in and let it out. “I’ve never prayed as much as I’ve prayed these last few days at the inn.” He looked over at me as he continued, “Even though I went to church my whole life and read the Bible a couple of times over, it was always just part of my life. In a box of its own almost. The problem with that is it wasn’t my entire life—just part. A cute little box that I pulled out when convenient.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked, looking to Nathan for hope.
“Well, we’re going to go to counseling,” he said gently as he reached over and grabbed onto my hand. “We don’t need to tell the kids anything about what’s going on.”
“Okay. I agree.”
“Does that mean you aren’t divorcing me?” he asked.
“I’m not making promises, Nathan. Let’s start with counseling.”
**
Walking through the front door of our house filled me both with a feeling of relief to finally be home and a sense of uncertainty for the coming days. Jenny and Dakota promptly ran up to their rooms. Surveying the living room as I walked in, I felt like the entire house was from a different part of my life. The life in which I was ignorant of the truth. A time in which I did everything to get closer to a man who was secretly seeing someone else. Seeing the brown sofa in the living room, I thought about the nights crying into the armrest, waiting for him to come home. Worried he left me because of what I had done three years ago. My eyes welling with tears, I hurried through the living room and into the bathroom.
Locking the door behind me, I flipped on the light and gripped both sides of the sink tightly. The mirror showed me a reflection I didn’t recognize. Someone changed. I saw a deep hurt behind those sad blue eyes of mine. The scars I had brought home with me were deeper than I could have ever imagined. How am I ever to live in this house, God?
A light knock came on the door. Turning, I feared it was Nathan. “I’m kind of busy.”
“Oh. Sorry, Mom,” Dakota replied. Hearing him walk away, I felt bad.
Turning my eyes back to the mirror, I gave myself a pep talk. “You are a mother. You are a wife. You are a beautiful person. If you cannot handle being with Nathan, you will leave. It’s Biblical to leave. You have the power to decide.” It did little to help, but it did encourage me.
Walking out of the bathroom, I saw Nathan sitting on the couch with a picture frame in hand. He smoothed his thumb over the glass as I walked over and sat down beside him. With tear-filled eyes, he looked at me and said, “I jeopardized everything important to me. My whole life.” He set the picture down and wrung his hands. Looking around the room, his eyes fell on the picture of dogs playing poker on the wall near the television. He said, “That picture you hate is coming down.”
“Why?” I asked as he got up and walked over to the wall.
Taking it down, he looked back at me and said, “I’ll show you. I’ll be back in a bit.” He took off out the front door with the keys to his car and left.
Pulling out my phone, I called the one person who knew what was going on—Serenah. When she answered, I almost hung up.
“Hello?” she said a second time.
“Hey. It’s me, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, hey. How are things going?”
“I’m sorry I called,” I said as I stood and went into the kitchen. “I shouldn’t—”
“No, no. It’s fine, dear. What’s going on?” she asked.
Plugging in the coffee pot, I replied, “This is harder than I thought. Everything in this house is a reminder.”
“Did you read that verse? Treat it like an affirmation and memorize it. Every time you start to feel that anxiety rising in you, just repeat the verse out loud a couple of times.” I was quiet without a response as I went back to the living room to retrieve my Bible. “You know, Elizabeth. If you can’t do it, it’s okay. Biblically, you can divorce Nathan for what he did. There’s no rule against it.”
“I know. My mind says cut the jerk loose, but my heart and soul say to try. He really seems changed, but it’s my own mind that is the problem.” Opening up my Bible, I continued, “I’ll work on that verse. Take care.”
“Oh, wait. I need your address. For the wedding invitation. I want to get those sent out in the coming week.”
After giving her my address, we hung up. Highlighting 1 Peter 5:7 wasn’t enough. I used the white space beside the text to make a drawing. The image I drew were the hands of the Lord holding the whole world. In the world I wrote the words: hate, worry, anxiety, and fear. I did this because God was my redeemer and I needed to commit to Him everything. Truly everything.
**
After an hour passed, Nathan returned home with a wooden-framed picture of some sort. “Went to Kinko’s,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “But then I figured out they didn’t have a frame and it’d be kind of lame without one . . . so I had to go hunting for one around town. I hope I didn’t worry you.”
Watching from the couch as he went over to the wall, I said, “No. I wasn’t worried. What is the picture?”
“You’ll see in just a second,” he replied as he leaned the framed picture against the wall. “Kids, come downstairs, please,” he hollered toward the direction of the stairs.
“I found us an appointment,” I said. “It’s for the day after tomorrow at two o’clock at Pines Baptist.”
“Okay. Good.”
Soon, Jenny and Dakota came downstairs to join us in the living room.
“Sit by your mother, kids,” Nathan requested as he pointed to the couch. As they walked over, he continued, “I know we haven’t had the best church attendance the last little while.”
“Try forever,” Jenny replied with a laugh as she sat on the couch.
“Watch it,” Nathan warned. “It’s been about four years, but that’s going to change.” He turned and picked up the framed picture and hung it up. In beautiful cursive baby-blue handwriting, it read . . . as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15.
“I love it,” I said.
Nathan nodded and glanced at it for a moment and then turned to the kids. “Our house is going to revolve around this verse. We won’t just go to church on Sundays. We will live the testimony of Christ and serve Him in this house. Sitting in your room all day? No. Try one or two hours, and the rest of the time down here as a family. Also, there will be family time in which we read Scripture and study. When we invest our time into something, that’s where our heart is.” He pointed to the verse. “Our hearts are going to abide in the Lord.”
“What?” Jenny replied, annoyed. “You can’t force God on us like this, Dad. That’s not fair! We’re Christians and have been baptized. You don’t need to drill it into us more than that. I have a life.”
“You’re two years away from graduating. You deal with the rules until then, and then if you don’t like them, you can leave.”
“This isn’t fair,” Jenny said as she rose to her feet.
“Not another word about it. We’ll talk more once your mother and I come up with a solid plan. For now, you two can go back to what you were doing.”
After the kids were back in their rooms and I heard the doors shut, I patted the seat beside me on the couch. “What has gotten into you?” I asked as he sat down.
“Something on the trip to my parents’ house really clicked for me today. After we talked about Abraham, I began thinking about other people in the Bible, and I realized a ton of them were messed up.” He laughed and shook his head. “It’
s actually sad, not funny, but anyway, I thought about David. He messed up big time with Bathsheba, but he was still considered a man after God’s own heart. It was his faith and reliance on the Lord that kept David in the long run.” Nathan’s eyes returned to the verse on the wall. “God’s the only way this family can heal. It’s the only true way to do life.” Turning back to me again, he placed his hand on top of mine. “It’s how we can heal.”
While I didn’t trust Nathan fully, I trusted the Lord, and I knew Nathan’s heart was focused on Him. If he could stay that way, we had a shot. It warmed my heart to see my husband taking the leadership role seriously for the first time in years.
Chapter 13
The Pines Baptist Church parking lot was packed like a can of sardines on Sunday morning. Glancing at my phone as I silenced it, I saw we were about ten minutes early to service that morning. Looking at Nathan as he surveyed the parking lot rows, I noticed him leaning over the steering wheel as he squinted at the rows of cars.
“Does that help you see?” I asked playfully with a smile.
He laughed and relaxed his tense shoulders back against his seat. “I’m just nervous. So many people we know are going to be bugging us about where we’ve been for the last four years.”
“And the ignored phone calls . . .” I added. Touching his arm, I said, “Maybe they’ll just leave us be. You never know.”
“Ned won’t,” he remarked. “I know that guy will be asking.”
“It’ll be okay,” I insisted.
Finding a spot down one of the rows, we parked. As we all got out of the car, Nathan set his Bible on the roof as he adjusted his shirt to tuck it into his pants.
“You sure do look stunning in that dress, Honey,” he said, glancing at me as I came around the back bumper. The dress was a yellow summer dress I picked up at a flea market last year.
“Thanks,” I replied. The compliment was sweet of him. He knew I spent a couple of hours upstairs getting ready that morning. I just hoped the compliments he gave me would never stop. The affection, the happiness . . . they all made me feel great, but in the back of my mind, I felt it wasn’t forever. After all, he did do these things once before and stopped. What would keep him from stopping again? How do we avoid what happened, not only on his part, but my own? These were the questions that haunted my free moments of thought.
“Can I go to service with you and Dad?” Jenny asked as we walked through the parking lot toward the entrance.
Shaking my head gently, I looked at her. “Why wouldn’t you want to go to Youth Group? You always enjoyed it before.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous being here. Felisha and Cindy go here, and I’m not really friends with them at school anymore.”
As we came up to the doors, a few of the youth were coming out. A guy and two girls. “Hey, Jenny,” the boy said.
“I’m Nathan. Jenny’s father,” Nathan said firmly as he extended a hand to exchange handshakes with the boy.
“Dad,” Jenny said as she went beet red in embarrassment. “I’ll catch up with you after church,” Jenny said, going with the kids as they walked down the sidewalk to the youth building.
“Who was that boy?” Nathan asked as he watched the kids walk.
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” I replied, laughing as I linked my arm with his.
With Dakota still by our side, we went into the main foyer of the church. Swarms of people gathered in clusters around laptops that were set up on a table. Seeing past one of the ladies in line, I saw the screen. They were checking in their children to the digitized system. I don’t recall these, I thought to myself.
Leaning in my ear, Nathan said, “I’ll grab us seats in the sanctuary.”
As Nathan left in pursuit of seats, I felt a deep peace set over me. Nathan was a good man. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to love him the way I did before, but I at least knew my children had a good father and a role model. Sure, he made a mistake, but I’d never tell them.
“Mom,” Dakota said, bumping my arm with his elbow.
Turning, I saw he was alerting me to show me I was next in line. I stepped up to the computer to sign Dakota and Jenny into Sunday School.
**
That evening, I made a needed trip to the store to pick up a gallon of milk and a pizza for the kids and Nathan. After the never ending laundry saga I had going on in the laundry room for the second day in a row, I was too tired to cook. The kids and Nathan loved pizza anyway, so they didn’t complain. When I pulled into the driveway back at home that evening, I noticed the living room lights were off. Strange. Taking the gallon of milk in one hand and the pizza in the other, I ventured up the driveway and to the front door. It was open.
“Hello?” I said, stepping into the dimly lit living room. The hallway light came on and Jenny came down the stairs.
“Hey, Mom. I’ll take that. Dakota and I are upstairs doing a Bible study guide that Kurt gave me.”
“Kurt?” I asked, perplexed as I handed her the pizza.
“Yeah. The guy from church today? Remember? He was in my Biology class last year.”
I nodded. “Okay. Where’s your father?”
She smiled and looked toward the kitchen. “Out back. He’s waiting for you.” Turning, she hurried back up the stairs and into her room. Setting my purse down on the counter, I went over to the sliding glass door and saw the fire pit ablaze outside.
Opening the door, I stepped outside and went down the steps to the backyard. Near the fire pit was a small table with a rose lying across the center, but no Nathan. Peering across the moonlit yard, I saw no signs of him. “Nathan?” I asked into the darkness.
“Right here,” he replied, coming around the corner with a plate of steak. “Sorry. I didn’t know you’d be back this quickly.” He set the plate of meat down on the table and pulled out a chair. “Your chair, ma’am.”
I smiled and took a seat.
“Just a moment, and I will return with our meals.” Taking the plate of steak, he went inside. Seeing the rose again, I picked it up. It was real. Bringing the petals to my nose, I breathed in the aroma of the rose and grinned. When did he have time to get this? Looking over at the crackling fire not far from our table, I knew he built it specifically for me. When we were younger, we’d sit outside in the summer and watch the stars while sipping on cups of coffee. I’d always have a blanket wrapped around me or make him build a fire. Even if the temps were in the sixties at night, I’d always have some source of heat to help keep me just a little bit warmer.
Hearing the door open, I glanced over to see Nathan return with two plates in hand. As he set my plate of food down in front of me, my smile grew. He really was trying. The steak looked perfect, and the salad too. “This looks amazing, honey,” I said as he took a seat across from me.
“Good.” Folding his hands together, he bowed. I joined him. He prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you this evening and ask a blessing on the food. May it bring nourishment to our bodies. Let us remember that You alone, God, are the one who can restore the broken-hearted. It’s through Your power, mercy and grace that we can find life and joy and peace and happiness. I pray these things in Your name. Amen.”
“And bless the cook. Amen,” I added.
Looking up from the blessing on the food, I saw Nathan. Not the sinner of a man who had done the unspeakable, but my husband. The real Nathan, who loved me like crazy. Setting his fork down, he reached a hand across the table, palm up. “I love you, Lizzy.”
“I love you too,” I replied, placing my hand in his.
“I want you to know that I’m not doing all of this just because I’m trying to make up to you. Well, okay, that too.” He let out a short laugh before continuing. With my hand still in his, he said, “I’m never going to stop loving you the way I should—ever again. It doesn’t matter what happens. I won’t ever let myself get comfortable and take you for granted. Every moment I spend with you is a gift from God. I know it’s so
mething that should have been there all along, but it wasn’t.”
“I messed up too, Nathan,” I added. “I know what you mean.”
He nodded and released my hand. Picking his fork and knife up, he smiled across the table at me and I smiled back. Counseling didn’t feel needed in a perfect moment like this one, but I knew we had to do everything possible if we were going to have a chance.
Chapter 14
Usually, I was the one who would take a long time to get ready to go anywhere. Not this time. Instead of me spending an hour on my hair and another thirty minutes on what to wear, I was ready in twenty minutes flat. Today, none of the outward appearances mattered. What was important was preparing my heart for marriage counseling down at Pines Baptist. We’d be meeting with the associate pastor, Tom, a man we’ve known for years. What would I say? How much information and detail would we need to go into about Nathan’s trespasses and my own? I wasn’t sure of the answers, but that didn’t stop me from repeating the questions in my mind while I waited for Nathan to finish getting ready. Sitting with my feet curled up under me on the couch downstairs in the living room, I ran the questions in my mind over and over again.
To me, marriage counseling was like admitting I didn’t know what I was doing, almost like a dirty little piece of laundry you don’t want to air. ‘We screwed up’ and ‘we’re not sure what to do now’ were the statements I didn’t want to say. Those kinds of sentences echoed the reality of our marriage. I loved the idea of getting help for Nathan and me, but that didn’t mean I wanted people to know my business.
A sigh came from the stairs as Nathan came down them. Glancing over the back of the couch, I looked at his wide-eyed expression. “You ready?” he asked as he came down and into the living room.
“Yep. Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied. Standing up, I slipped on my flip-flops and picked up my purse. Walking over to the door, Nathan held it open for me.