He’d prayed over every word, and he meant them.
*
All the warm fuzzy feeling the kids’ cute notes sparked in Sarah vanished. She pressed hard on her chest to push her swelling heart back where it belonged.
How could he write that? Fraser’s clear voice and steady eyes held total sincerity. So much, she had to look away.
Accepting what he’d said wasn’t easy. She’d fallen into believing the defective gene made her defective too. A mistake that shouldn’t have happened. An imperfect blip in God’s perfect plan.
Her throat clogged, and she swallowed hard. She wanted to believe it, but clearly, she wasn’t there yet.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, Sarah. I only want you to start to see yourself how others see you. A beautiful big-hearted woman facing tough challenges with courage, making the world a better place for everyone who knows you.”
“If you think that, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She fiddled with her papers. Pain seared her lungs, but she tried to make a joke, lighten up things suddenly way too intense. “You should try writing greeting card verses. You’ve got the right lines.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward and flattened his hands on the table, releasing a low exasperated breath, bordering on a growl. The tension emanating from every inch of his frame suggested he’d barely stopped himself forming fists.
“Don’t belittle my feelings. You’re better than that.”
She let go a sigh of her own. “I’m sorry, Fraser.”
She was sorry. She didn’t mean to hurt him by rejecting his words. But they weren’t meant for her. They were meant for the fantasy he had of who she was, some alternate Sarah who was good and brave and strong.
Not her.
He pushed back from the table, hard enough to jolt it, then stood leaning on it, eyes closed. His shoulders dropped, and she watched him systematically force his tense muscles to loosen.
She’d used the same technique before a race and taught it to the kids. Probably, she should use it now as well.
“We’re finished here. The pages are sorted.” His voice softened as he picked up the stack with her name on it and handed it to her. “Take the rest of the afternoon off. I can deal with the classes. Trish will still be with your mum, so you’ll get some time for yourself.” A short laugh escaped him, and he scribbled something on another piece of paper before passing it to her. “This is the next piece of homework for the Year Seven kids. You should do it too.”
Without looking at it, she bundled it up with the other pages. She had to get out of there.
Right now.
If her constant running away didn’t prove she wasn’t the courageous woman he thought, nothing would.
“Thanks, Fraser. I know you mean well.” She avoided meeting his eyes as she shoved the papers in her backpack and pulled her diet cola and sandwich from the fridge.
“Here.” He held out the deli bag, with the remains of the huge salad he’d bought her. Tears filled her eyes over his thoughtfulness. If only the life he imagined with her was possible.
But it wasn’t.
*
Sarah needed to walk, get somewhere she could think.
After a quick call to Trish to check Mum was okay, she headed for The Meadows. On a sunny spring afternoon, students from the nearby university, roller skaters, joggers, cyclists, and mothers pushing prams thronged the park. She found an empty bench and sat in the dappled shade beneath an old oak tree.
This had been her favourite place as a student, but held a less happy memory now. She’d met Dad here between classes, the day he told her he was leaving. Maybe that was why she’d chosen to come here, to remind herself.
Fraser using the words she’d tried so hard to convince him had value for their students hit her hard. She’d never realised how badly she needed to learn the lesson she tried to teach.
Hadn’t she aimed low, stopped celebrating anything, lived as if her test result was a death sentence? Everyone stood equally accountable to God for how they used the gifts He’d given them. But she’d used her diagnosis as a get-out clause.
In truth, she’d been a coward. She wasn’t the woman Fraser thought.
The best thing she could do was tell him to stop giving her the gifts and surprises. Turn away all his offers of help. Ask him not to volunteer any more for the garden project. Get him to leave her alone.
Something in her rebelled at the idea.
Her phone beeped. A message from Fraser.
Have you heard the joke about the man who sent away offers of help in a flood, saying God would save him? He refuses help one too many times and drowns. When the man meets God, he angrily asks why He didn’t rescue him. God replies, “My son, I sent you a rowboat, a motorboat, and a helicopter. You turned them all away.”
Letting out a long breath, she closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. Had she lived like that man since her diagnosis? Angry God seemed to have abandoned her, while refusing to accept the help He offered?
As if she’d find the answer hidden there, she pulled out the papers Fraser had given her. The class homework was to write a list of ten things she liked about herself.
Ten things. That would be tough. She ran out of steam after five.
Now if it had been ten things she liked about Fraser…
Scrawled across the top, he’d written a couple of Bible verse references. She opened the Bible app on her phone.
“Long ago, even before he made the world, God chose us to be his very own through what Christ would do for us; he decided then to make us holy in his eyes, without a single fault—we who stand before him covered with his love.”
Four words rang in her mind like bells—without a single fault. That was what it was all about.
Could she believe God chose her, too? Or had believing her damaged genes made her less than everyone else stopped her allowing Him to cover her in His love and grace.
The other verse read, “Today I am giving you a choice of two ways… You can choose life or death. The first choice will bring a blessing. The other choice will bring a curse. So choose life!”
God had been working through Fraser all week to teach her this lesson.
To believe God did have a plan for her. To see she’d been making her life too small, closing out colour and light. To realise she’d chosen to make her genetic inheritance a death sentence. To accept that God truly wanted her to stand before Him, pure and perfect, because His love covered every fault. Even her damaged genes.
On the day they told her the test results, she’d chosen death. But God wanted her to choose life. And love.
Both His love, and Fraser’s.
She buried her face in her hands.
Lord Jesus, help me. I’ve gone so wrong, and I don’t know how to get back to You. Please, I want to choose life. I want to choose love. Cover me with Your love. Make me faultless in Your eyes. Make me the woman Fraser sees when he looks at me.
The words were wrung from her heart, twisting so hard it felt torn from her chest. She held her breath through a long agonising moment. Then the pain lifted, and sweet peace flooded her. Peace and a sense of certainty. God kept His promises, and His promises were for her, too.
She’d choose to live as full a life as she could, for as long as she was given.
And she’d choose to live in love.
Chapter Thirteen
Part of Sarah longed to run straight to Fraser and shout out loud that she’d chosen life, but she needed to get home to Mum before Trish left. And she didn’t want to break this peace and joy by rushing things.
It all seemed too fragile, too new. A whisper in her heart told her to wait. Let Fraser show her the rest of his plan for how good their life together could be. Give him more time to be sure he was sure.
And spend time with God, letting His love in.
Only when she felt secure in God’s love and acceptance could she start to let Fraser love her.
She sent him
a short text, thanking him for the verses and telling him God was working on her. He sent back an even shorter one.
Good. Let Him.
On Thursday, while Mum napped after lunch and she tried to work on a course assignment, her phone beeped. A link to praise music, a quiet contemplative instrumental, not what she’d imagined Fraser listening to. But as the music played, it seemed as if the two of them prayed side-by-side, going joyfully deep into the presence of God.
Your life together could be like that, a soft still voice deep inside her whispered.
When Mary turned up on Friday afternoon wanting to sit with Mum, Sarah sensed a prompting to use this time. She asked Mary if she minded her going out.
As she drove off leaving Mum, guilt twisted painfully in her chest, but her run on Portobello Beach refreshed her. The wind off the sea blew her heart and mind clean of everything that wasn’t love.
It would have been even better if Fraser ran alongside her. Maybe next time.
She hoped and prayed there would be a next time. But if she wanted it with Fraser, she’d have to do the asking.
Please, Lord, give me the courage to take a chance on trusting him. And let him say yes.
The thought of seeing Fraser again flowered in her heart like a huge red rose. After Mary left, she sang as she did the housework.
On Saturday morning, Mum was fussy getting dressed, worried about going out. Was taking Mum along to help with the garden instead of leaving her home with a carer wise? What if it was too much for her?
Normally, Sarah would have retreated, taken the safe option, phoned Cat to ask her to take charge, and then stayed home with Mum until she could get Trish or someone else from the agency.
Normally, she wouldn’t have planned to go out at all.
Committing to do the garden changed everything. When she prayed, she experienced a sense of peace about taking Mum. She had a balance to get right. Keep Mum safe, but also help her live as full a life as she could, rather than wrapping her in cotton wool and hiding her away from the world.
Mum was probably simply picking up on her own nerves about seeing Fraser.
Before they left home, Sarah sent him another text.
I’m choosing life.
He messaged back a single letter.
X
Chapter Fourteen
If that was a kiss, she fully intended to claim it. Sweet excitement fluttered through her as she drove to the kirk.
She’d hoped to see Fraser, but instead Mary and Moira stood chatting beneath the blossoming apple tree, right next to her parking spot. Mum went straight to Mary with a beaming smile.
“Hello…” Mum trailed off uncertainly.
In the past, Sarah would have fretted over her forgetting the name. Today, she gave thanks that Mum recognised she knew and liked Mary. Seeing her happiness over the meeting was blessing enough.
Help me to be thankful for these tiny splashes of joy with Mum. They’ll be there, even as her illness progresses. I just need to look for them.
“Hello, Mary.” Sarah gave the older woman a hug. “It’s such a lovely day, so Mum’s come to help with the garden.” She took her mother’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Mum, you haven’t met Moira before. She and her husband are award-winning gardeners. Moira, this is my mum, Isabel.”
Hard to believe the two women were much the same age. Mum’s illness made her seem so much older. Moira smiled so kindly at her mother, Sarah forgave her the difficulties they’d had last week.
After greeting her, Moira glanced at Sarah. “Actually, I need to talk to you, Sarah. Could I have a moment?”
“Isabel, would you help me with the sandwiches for lunch?” Dear Mary picked up straight away on what was needed. “I have a whole loaf of bread needing to be buttered. I’d really appreciate help.” Her little nod and smile for Sarah reassured her. Mary would take good care of Mum.
Letting other people shoulder her responsibilities still felt wrong, but she had to learn. When her burdens felt too big to bear, she needed to look for where God sent her help and she’d refused it.
Moira clutched her hands in front of her and looked to the ground. Her pompous attitude had vanished. “I…I owe you an apology for how we behaved last week. We weren’t happy that our design wasn’t chosen, and we let that get in the way of helping. We were wrong.”
That was the last thing Sarah expected. It took her a moment to form her scrambled thoughts into a reply. “It’s brave of you to admit that. Thank you for coming back to help.”
The other woman raised troubled eyes to Sarah’s. “We’ll give you our full support now. We’ve been pretending it wasn’t happening, but Derek’s father was diagnosed with the early stages of dementia on Tuesday. Your sensory garden will do him far more good than our parterre.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Sarah laid a comforting hand on Moira’s arm.
“Derek’s going to bring him along today, if that’s okay?”
“Of course.” Sarah hesitated before saying more. Anxiety clenched her stomach. She’d tried to hide her mother’s illness. Admitting it felt huge.
Help me, Lord. Help me do what will help her most.
She pushed out the words. “My mother has Alzheimer’s. That’s what sparked me to suggest this garden.”
Moira surprised her with a quick hug. “I’ll pray for her. And you.” She pulled back and hurried away, but not before Sarah glimpsed the tears in her eyes.
Despite those tears, Sarah had the strongest feeling disclosing her truth helped Moira. All this time she’d concentrated on keeping her secret, she’d not only refused to accept help other people could have given her. By locking herself and Mum away in their tiny world, she’d refused to offer help to others as well.
Awareness filled her. Choosing life didn’t just mean accepting God’s love and Fraser’s love. It meant stepping into a whole community of love, right here in the kirk.
Thoughtful, she walked back to the chatting group of volunteers. Still no sign of Fraser. She didn’t doubt he’d turn up. He’d said he’d be here, and he would.
Instead of letting herself worry, she took Mum’s arm and led her over to see the garden. Now, with the retaining walls and the firmly packed clay and gravel paths in place, the garden’s outline stood clear. She whispered a prayer of thanks. It looked good. It looked very good.
“We still have a huge job to do,” she told her mother. “All the heaped-up soil dumped behind the walls needs spreading. We have to get the plants in. Then there’s mulch to lay. And the fence to go around the outside.”
“You’ll get it done, lass.” Mum beamed. “You always do what you set out to do.”
Sarah smiled. “I hope so.”
Today wasn’t just about making progress with the garden. She needed to talk to Fraser, too. Something in her felt it would burst if she had to wait much longer.
He’d be here. Cat and Ally hadn’t arrived yet, either.
She needed to learn to trust.
Trust grew harder to maintain when everyone else began work and he hadn’t arrived. Disappointment and doubt gnawed at her.
Pushing the feelings down, she focused on the garden. Charlie and Fiona raked down one pile of soil, while Derek and Moira worked on the other side.
“You’re doing a great job,” she told them. “That’s exactly right. Fill the deep hollows so they’re level with the top of the wall, but leave some raised sections too. It shouldn’t be too flat.”
Mum sat safely beside the kirk, with Mary one side and Derek’s father, Richard, a distinguished looking and courtly man in his seventies, on the other. Judging by the smiles Mum and Richard shared, they were getting on well.
Sarah could get involved with gardening without needing to worry. “I’ll get my rake from the car,” she said, to no one in particular.
At her car, a crunch on the gravel made her turn.
Fraser, carrying gardening tools. Her heart somersaulted.
But something wasn’t right.
Dark circles under his eyes and the fatigued sag of his shoulders suggested a sleepless night. She’d seen that look in the mirror herself, after difficult nights with Mum.
She ran to him and grabbed his hands. “What’s wrong?”
His lips curved in a weary smile, and warm comfort spread from his grip on her hands. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get a message to you. Of all the times to forget to charge my phone.” He gave a tiny head shake. “It’s Brodie. He’s in the hospital. Nothing life threatening, the docs think it’s a kidney stone. I drove Mum there in the middle of the night and stayed with her till we knew he was okay. Cat and Ally are there now, but they’ll try to make it here later.”
“Is this your brother with special needs?”
He nodded. “When we were kids, Bro was in and out of hospital more times than I can count. He’s been a lot better lately, and now this.”
“You need to go home and rest. You don’t have to be here.”
She should let him go, but she clung to his hands, reluctant to release their sweet connection.
Fraser smiled down at her, so tender and warm. “I don’t have to be here, but I want to be here. I want to see you. And talk to you.” He raised their linked hands. “Between this and your messages, I’m guessing things are okay?”
She smiled back, joy flooding her heart. “More than okay. God’s been teaching me a lot this week.”
“Me too. He showed me how much I needed to change. How I feel for you triggered it, but the change had to happen anyway.” His intent gaze seemed to see right to the core of her. “I meant it when I said knowing you made me want to be a better man.”
Instead of ducking her head like she normally would have done, she raised her face to his and met his eyes steadily. God’s love made her fearless at last. The shame she’d carried since the test results had gone.
Love Blossoms: 7 Spring-Fresh Christian Romances Page 29