A Family Worth Fighting For (The Worthy Series Book 3)

by S. M. Smith

  My mother’s words resound in my ears as if she were standing right next to me, catching my breath and spinning my world on its axis. I feel the weight of everything crash down on me. I chose to come on this trip so that I could get away from all my worries and concerns and here I am, weeping in a vegetable garden on my hands and knees, alone and completely unsure as to what I should do next.

  Why are you scared, child? Haven’t I shown you how I can provide for anyone? I know the desires of your heart and I will meet them. But in my way. Can you have faith that I will provide you with the things I need you to have for what I have in store for you?

  The voice of God floats gently through my head, causing my tears to immediately dry up.

  I sit down, pull my legs under me and close my eyes, letting the gentle breeze cool the damp skin of my face. When I open them the first thing I see is a bird. I’m not sure what kind of bird it is, but it makes me think of the verse in Matthew where Jesus is teaching about worrying. He asks the masses if we are not more important than the birds in the sky, who God provides for so that they do not have to store their food.

  I miss the feeling of God having control of my life. I always felt like I was flying, like I had no worries to tie me to the ground, like the world was at my fingertips. I feel like I lost His provision the moment the doctor told me that I’m going to have to fight for the family I’ve always dreamt of.

  It was then, ironically, that I tried to take control of the situation when I should have let Him do His thing with it. I’ve been fighting this fight without the single most important weapon I could possibly have and it’s exhausted me. It’s tied me down and kept me from the feeling of flying.

  I miss flying. I miss the freedom His provision has always given. And I miss the peace I had when He had control over my life.

  So the question becomes do I continue to fight this ridiculous fight on my own. Or do I let Him take over so I can fly again?

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~Jessie~

  I feel weak and tired when I find myself back at the school. I take my dinner from the counter full of bowls and find an empty outward facing table to sit by myself. I’m not really in a conversational mood and I’m pretty sure the rest of our crew can tell. I get through the bowl of beans and rice when I feel him behind me. His posture is rigid, telling me he’s still mad.

  “We need to be packed before we leave the tent in the morning. Bus leaves at four in the afternoon. Make sure you’ve said your goodbyes by then.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” I don’t look at him and he doesn’t reach out to me, but he doesn’t leave immediately either. I wait for another harsh comment that doesn’t come and after what feels like a decade of awkward silence, he finally walks away without another word.

  Not really feeling hungry anymore, I get up and take care of my bowl and spoon before heading toward the tent. On autopilot, I quickly pack up everything that I won’t need between now and the morning and leave the stuff I will need easily accessible. I hear Rowan and Monica enter the tent, in a heavy conversation but I don’t focus in to hear what they are talking about.

  Wordlessly, I pick up my Bible and timidly smile at them on my way out. I see Stephen walking toward the clinic, no doubt to spend the evening with Baby Dauphine and I feel a little resentment rear its ugly head as I think that he’s choosing to spend the time with her rather than trying to apologize for his mean words to me.

  It’s probably best. You wouldn’t want to talk to him right now anyway, I tell myself.

  I make my way over to the school, going around back to slip in through the door to the patio. I scare Alex when I step in.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be here.” I cling my Bible to my chest. “I was just looking for a quiet place to read. Do you mind?” I look longingly at the large wooden rocking chair sitting near the front of the room. She turns in her seat, following my gaze.

  “Not at all. I’m just about done anyway.” She smiles quietly and turns back to the papers in front of her.

  I sit in the spacious seat, thankful for the room to pull my feet under me, and open my Bible. I don’t really care what I start reading but find myself in the Old Testament. I spend hours reading story after story of the men and women who stood up for their people, not caring what sacrifices on their part that were required for their mission. I get lost in the stories of the kings and their downfalls. At some point, I decide I need a story of hope again and find myself skipping to the New Testament, reading through the book of John and the life of Jesus. I read until my eyes feel heavy and I think I need to get up and move or head to my cot.

  However when I finally pull myself up, the dawn is rising. I don’t even remember Alex leaving, though I do remember the sound of the back door opening, a couple of times maybe. When I stand, I feel the repercussions of sitting all night hit me. I stretch my arms up and search my spiritual temperature, gauging to see if I’m any closer to feeling stronger about being the parent I feel Stephen, and on some level God, is asking me to be. But all I feel is a numbness from information and anxiety overload. So, still feeling lost, I gather my Bible and make my way back to the tent, noticing that I’m not really feeling tired, just numb.

  Stephen isn’t in the tent when I step in, but his suitcase is already packed and sitting on his cot, awaiting the time to travel. Amelia and Monica look up at me as I approach my cot and start packing up the untouched blankets on my cot.

  “Stephen asked us to let you know he’s in the nursery should you need him today.” Monica smiles apologetically at me. I nod my thanks to her and proceed with picking up what I need for the day.

  I don’t waste time getting on with my day. After changing and double checking my belongings one last time, I head to the kitchen, preparing to say my goodbyes to all the kids and the beautiful, loving women who have blessed my days by singing songs I have no clue what they mean. All I know is the tune, and the tone is warm, and it brings a joy to my heart.

  The ladies all greet me with wet eyes, but with smiles that shine brighter than the Haitian sun. I have yet to have a full conversation with any of these women who don’t know a lick of English, but they’ve ministered to me in a way that only they know how, showing me that with all the demands of each day, there is always a reason to sing and always a reason to smile. Even with my heavy heart, they make me feel warm and welcome today and I try not to dwell on the fact that after today, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to spend another day with them.

  All too soon the back door opens to the school and the bright eyes of the masses explode out of the building. Alex brings up the tail end of the group and blows her whistle as she has done since the day I first served these amazing kids.

  After saying their prayer of thanks, I serve each child another bowl of stew and rice, and every single face reflects their truly thankful hearts. My own heart aches as I think this will be my last time to hear their hearty laughs and see their brilliant smiles.

  A very enthusiastic set of girls are the last to be served today, and the vibrant grins I saw the first day are back on each of their faces. They linger as I am handed my bowl and shoved out of the kitchen by the sweet cooks one last time.

  “Do you go home today?” Nadia asks me, her shyness no longer holding her back from talking freely to me.

  “I do.” I smile sadly at them and all theirs falter a little. “But I don’t think I want to go. Can I come live with you?”

  Marie’s quiet eyes widen and her head nods exuberantly. I can’t help but laugh and when she realizes that I’m only joking, her head dips down in embarrassment. I reach over and pull her toward me and she throws her arms around my shoulders and kisses my cheek before hugging me tightly.

  “We will miss you,” Flore says sadly.

  “I will miss you too. But maybe we can write to each other.” All three girls nod enthusiastically. In that moment, I feel a piece of my heart break itself away and attach to these amazing young women.

 
“And him too.” Nadia’s boldness causes her dark face to flush. I turn to see who she’s gushing over to find her totally crushing on my husband. He doesn’t see us watching him, but I notice the edginess he’s walking with. The idea that I’m the one making him this way saddens me.

  “He looks sad,” Flore says.

  “He just isn’t ready to go home yet either,” I say more to my half-eaten bowl than to the girls. Needing a change of subject I remember I talked to Anita yesterday. “Nadia, your brother is doing really well. The doctor is very happy with his progress.”

  Her eyes smile with a peaceful contentment. “Thank you,” she tells me quietly.

  I reach across the table and pick up her hand.

  “You’re a strong young woman. God has big plans for you.” I look up at the other girls to include them too. “For all of you. He loves you and wants the best life for you. I’m so thankful that He put you girls in my life”

  Alex blows her whistle again, signaling the end of lunch, helping me to end this goodbye quickly. As one, the rest of the children at the tables stand and start their way toward the back door. But before they go, all three girls engulf me in a huge group hug, squeezing me tight so that I feel their love deep in my bones. Just as I’m afraid I’ll start crying, they release me and make their way to the line moving back into the classroom, waving at me until they enter the building.

  ***

  After cleaning up the kitchen and getting hugged by all four women at least three times each, I make my way toward the clinic to start my goodbyes there.

  “Jessie, I’m so going to miss your efficient feeding skills,” Moreen jokes when I first enter the clinic. She embraces me in a warm hug.

  “You and I both know I take forever to feed half the patients here,” I laugh.

  I hardly spent any time in the pediatric rooms simply because I spent most of my time with the chronic patients. They have spent the most time here so I always felt like I needed to spend most of my time with them. I didn’t really get to talk to too many people simply because I find the Haitian Creole the hardest language known to mankind. But I made sure to take my time with them, letting them know that I valued the time serving them.

  “Stephen just left, but he spent the majority of the day in the nursery. Took a few calls, but has pretty much had her in his arms all day. I’d say he’s pretty smitten.” I know she must have heard our heated exchange yesterday, but I really don’t need anyone explaining to me how much he’s fallen for that baby girl. I knew it the moment he first met her, it just took me two weeks to really see how much.

  “I just don’t know if we’re on the same page on this,” I say in one quick exhale.

  “You will get there, but I have a hard time believing he’s going to back down on this.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I give her a weak smile. I change the subject before I start crying unnecessary tears. “It was an absolute pleasure working with you.”

  “You too. But this isn’t goodbye. I have a good feeling I’ll be seeing you guys again.” She gives me a knowing smile and squeezes my arm before stepping around me and handing a couple of clipboards to Dr. Miller.

  “Jessie, all ready to be heading home?” he asks, not really looking up at me as he skims the paper on the clipboard.

  “Yes and no. It was an amazing experience getting to work here with you, Dr. Martinez and the rest of the team. Thank you for sharing this with us.”

  He looks up at me this time, a hint of astonishment on his face.

  “No, thank you. I understand that the difference between the commitments I’ve made and what people like yourself have made. Honestly, I think I’ve taken the easy road here. I don’t have to go back to that world and try to live in it knowing what’s here. You guys do and the sacrifices you’ve made to turn your world upside down…I just made this my world. I know it can’t be easy for you all.”

  He too gives me a knowing smile and I feel like he just might understand all the craziness going through my mind right now.

  “Just remember, Jessie. Out of all the many places throughout the world He could have sent you, He sent you here for a reason. I think you’ll understand why when He’s ready for you to. Don’t sweat it, okay?” He pats my shoulder and continues on

  “Jessie,” Monica’s tear-stained face appears in from the front door. “It’s almost time to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  I turn and take a step toward the nursery but get stopped by LeAnn who pops out of the room of chronic patients and pulls me into a tight hug.

  “Keep an eye on these babies for me, please,” I say. Her tiny body shakes with laughter and she pulls back.

  “I already promised your husband.” She smiles perceptively and subtly shakes her head. “She’s in good hands until you guys get back.”

  “How can all of you be so sure?” I feel a tear slip as I recount everyone that has insinuated that we’ll be back for Baby Dauphine. LeAnn looks deep into my eyes and then glances off briefly as if to consider her words before she turns back to me and speaks.

  “I just have a peace about it. And an excitement for Dauphine, like I know she’s going to be okay and it will be because of you and Stephen.”

  She hugs me again and before I even see him, I feel the tension rolling off Stephen as he approaches us.

  “Jess, it’s time. We have to go now.”

  LeAnn squeezes me one last time as I turn to leave. He nods appreciatively at her, but doesn’t look at me as he turns and follows me out.

  I come around the end of the bus and get pelted by three charging girls. I squat down and wrap my arms around Flore, Nadia and Marie one last time. I wipe tears off their cheeks and kiss each of their foreheads before I climb onto the bus. Stephen stands in the aisle, letting me take the window seat. I spot the girls standing together by the school waving fervently. I wave back and let the tears fall one last time as the bus starts its slow journey back to Port-Au-Prince.

  Chapter Twenty

  ~Jessie~

  The morning sun peeks through the curtains, waking me from a deep, restful sleep. I pull the plush comforter up to my chin, snuggling down in the soft mattress, soaking in the luxuries of my life. I reach over to the space beside me and find it’s empty.

  Sitting up, I hold the blankets to my chest and look around, not recognizing the room. The walls aren’t the warm mocha color of our bedroom, but instead a clean egg white. A wide blade ceiling fan hangs from an alcove in the raised ceiling, slowly circulating, creating a comfortable draft. Clothes are strung all over the floor and hang from my favorite orange chair, so I know he must have been here.

  I pull back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. A picture of Nadia, Flore, Marie and me on our last trip to Haiti smiles brightly from my nightstand and I see the fuzzy slippers sitting on the hardwood floors, waiting for my cold feet. I hear giggles, peaking my curiosity. I climb out of bed, slide into the slippers and grab a pale pink satiny robe hanging on a hook on the closet door. I slip through the bedroom door and walk quietly down the hall.

  The hardwood floors are darker than those in our apartment, and artwork that looks like it came from a preschool class adorns the walls in simple espresso frames. I wonder where I am and whose house I’m in. I don’t recognize the sunny kitchen I pass with its stainless steel appliances and white cabinets. I see our coffee maker on the counter and itch to make myself a cup, but I feel an overwhelming urge to find my husband. So I continue on down the hallway, turn the corner and find him.

  Stephen’s sitting on the floor, back facing me, talking to someone I can’t see. Pink and purple Duplo blocks, baby doll clothes, a toy bottle and an abandoned baby doll stroller lay scattered across the floor around him. He leans down and whoever he’s facing bursts out in a fit of giggles again. The sound is heavenly, making me want to giggle too. I do as I step into the room and take in the bright décor.

  Large bay windows let in the brilliant morning sun, illum
inating pictures of a family I barely recognize hanging everywhere. Rich purple and yellow throw pillows lay haphazardly across a gray sofa, the telltale signs of little feet that have recently bounced on the thick cushions. A pink sippy cup sits on a table, half full of milk, next to a white “I’m the Daddy” coffee mug. When I turn back to Stephen, a dark head of crazy curly hair pops up in front of him. Bright white eyes widen when they find mine and little pearly teeth become exposed as a fat grin explodes across a rich, dark face.

  “Mommy!” she squeals. Throwing her arms into the air, she races out of Stephen’s reach, jumping just before she gets to me, forcing me to catch her midair. I pull her up and feel a warmth spread through my chest I can’t explain. Pink palms grab either side of my face and a wide, soft nose rubs mine in an Eskimo kiss.

  “Morning, Mommy.” She pulls back and smiles a megawatt smile before hooking her arms around my neck and squeezing tight. Stephen looks over his shoulder and chuckles before climbing up off the floor and reaching for his coffee mug.

  “Sorry, Mommy, we were trying to let you sleep in. Good morning, by the way.” I can see the content and serenity in his eyes as he leans in to give me a kiss.

  When he pulls back though, his face starts to fade and I feel like I’m being shaken.

  “Jessie. Jessie, wake up. It’s time to board the plane.”

  I open my eyes and take in my surroundings again. Disorientation plagues me as I search the faces of the people around me. It takes me a few moments to realize we’re at the airport. Atlanta. I remember now, and suddenly I feel sad. He was happy. I was a little alarmed with not knowing where I was, but I know I was happy too. And not just a placated happy or a “settled” kind of happy, but a joyful, “satisfied” kind of happy that only comes with being at peace with what you’ve been blessed with.

  Stephen stands up and places his book back in his backpack, still very much irritated. The look on his face is painful too. I know how much he didn’t want to leave her there. Can I really do this?