Jenna cautiously unfolded the letter and began to read –
Dear Ms. Martinez,
Thank you for your kind communication. I am so thankful that you are there for Jenna. While I do not understand everything she has been through, I trust your judgment in whether or not she is ready to confront her past life. Please, when the time is right, let her know there are people here who care for her and miss her. She was like a sister to me, and a part of my heart has been missing since she left.
Michelle Cottrell
Jenna felt tears sting her eyes, and she quickly unfolded the other piece of paper that had been clipped to the first –
Ms. Cottrell,
Jenna has become like a daughter to me, even though we are only eight years apart in age. She did not have an easy go of things, and in fact, represents one of the worst breakdowns in the juvenile system in this State I have ever seen. She is dealing with a lot of emotions surrounding her father’s death, and while I agree, reacquainting herself with her friends would be beneficial, I don’t know that she is ready for that at this time.
Please know that I am doing everything in my power to get her to go home for a visit. Jenna is a smart young woman with a heart of gold. I know that once she returns to Cathedral Hills, she will realize that is where she belongs. Until then, I will remain her friend and counselor, pushing her towards healing and recovery with God’s help.
Teresa Martinez
Jenna re-read the letters, trying to find some anger towards Teresa for keeping Michelle’s letter from her, but as her anger dissipated, she realized Teresa had done her a huge favor. If she had insisted on Jenna coming back home too soon, Jenna would have lashed out at everyone, creating a chasm that might have never closed. By waiting for the appropriate time and place, Teresa had ensured that Jenna would be able to look at the bigger picture and push her emotions to the side. Thank you!
Jenna put the letters in a pile to take with her, and began to methodically go through the paperwork in her father’s files. She finished perusing the larger drawers and then pulled out the center drawer where her father normally kept things like pens and rulers.
The usual office stuff was there, but a thin, brown leather book was what caught her eye. She removed it from the drawer and then opened it and began to read. It was a journal, and as she read a random entry, she realized it was a prayer journal. And it’s all about me!
Entry after entry recorded her father’s heartfelt pleas to God to bring his baby girl home. To keep her safe. To help her forgive him for violating her trust so severely. The list went on and on, and each entry showed evidence of having had water dripped on the page. Tears? Had her father cried over the entries as he wrote them? Oh daddy, what happened to us?
Jenna flipped back to the beginning and started reading. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t care. Her father had loved her and the fact that his actions had driven her away was something he had never gotten over.
She got to the last entry, noticing the date was the same as his death. He never stopped thinking about me! He loved me!
Jenna was still sitting in his chair, holding the journal in her hand and crying when Trey found her shortly before lunch. She looked up when she heard footsteps on the wooden floors, not surprised in the least to see Trey entering the office. “My dad loved me.”
“Of course he did.” Trey came over and leaned back against the edge of the desk, facing her as she scooted the chair back a little bit. “After he came back from rehab, making things right with you was all he could think about. He sold the guide business to some folks in Ridgway, and dedicated himself to trying to make amends for what had happened after your mother’s death.
“He even made weekly trips down to the correctional facility to speak with other men who had fallen victim to alcohol and drugs. He never gave up on finding you, and he spent the rest of his life trying to make amends for his behavior. He even had a new headstone placed over your mother’s grave.”
“Really?” Jenna asked, finding it easier to believe Trey today than yesterday. Before leaving Trey’s home this morning, she had placed a phone call to Teresa, and spent thirty minutes sharing with her friend and counselor everything she had discovered the day before. Teresa had encouraged her to take things slowly and not to burn any bridges until she had time to process all of her emotions.
Jenna had discussed everything with her, including the mix up at the bank, meeting with the girls the night before; she’d even mentioned Trey a time or two too many. Teresa had picked up on that fact and started asking questions. While starting any kind of relationship in the midst of strong emotional upheaval was a textbook mistake, Teresa had encouraged Jenna to allow herself the freedom to explore these new feelings. They could lead only to friendship, but you also wouldn’t want to miss out on something bigger if that is God’s plan.
Jenna had hung up the phone after Teresa prayed with her, determined to make some progress on her father’s office and deal with the feelings of attraction towards Trey separately. Yet here he is!
“Grab your stuff and come with me and I’ll show you,” Trey offered, pulling her up from the desk chair by her hand.
“Okay.” Jenna wasn’t sure how she felt about going to visit her mother’s grave. Intellectually she knew that her mother’s spirit wasn’t buried there, only her physical remains. And yet, in the course of studying for her degree, she had discovered that many people, regardless of the spiritual beliefs, found great comfort in visiting the gravesites of their loved ones and talking to them. Maybe I need to go talk to my father’s grave! I could tell him all of the things I’ve only ever spoken in my head!
Trey drove Jenna back to the other side of town and pulled over outside the graveyard. The open space was attached to the back of the church, and large trees provided shade in the summer, and were now blanketing the ground in their leaves of reds, yellows and orange. Beneath the layer of leaves, the grass was a vibrant green, and grave markers could be seen here and there.
Trey helped Jenna from the car, and then hung back as she started walking across the cemetery. He leaned back against the car, knowing this first visit was something she needed to do on her own. He was determined to be there for her, no matter how long it took.
* * *
Chapter 15
Jenna felt Trey hang back and was grateful for his intuition. She hadn’t wanted to seem ungrateful, but what she needed to say to her mother, and possibly her father, was between her and them. And God. Tucked in her pocket was the prayer journal of her father’s, and she worried the leather cover with her fingers as she walked to the small garden area where her mother had been buried.
When she saw the elaborate headstone, done in pink marble, and lovingly carved and inscribed, she sank to her knees and sobbed.
Here lies Belinda Baxter. Beloved mother. Adored wife. Child of God.
Taken from us too soon, but never to be forgotten.
Jenna let her tears flow, tears for the mother who had held their small family together and tears that should have been shed six years earlier, but had been held deep inside. When she could speak, she started talking, “Momma, I’m here. I know I haven’t visited before, but I’m here now. Things got really messed up after you died. Dad lost it. He started drinking again and I didn’t know what to do about it. He became this horrible person for a while, and my friends were so worried about me that they took me some place where they thought I’d be safe.
“The last six years have been awful and Trey says daddy changed and tried to find me. I wish I could have seen him one last time before he died too. I miss you, Mom.” Jenna dropped the journal and reached down to pick it up, accidentally moving the leaves over a grave marker next to her mother’s headstone. When she saw the name inscribed on the simple concrete marker, she gasped and felt a new surge of tears fill her eyes.
Jimmy Baxter.
Nothing else, other than the dates of his birth and death occupied the marker stone. No epi
taph. No accolades of statements declaring what he meant to people while alive. Just a name. Jenna moved the leaves away; running her fingertips over the inscribed letters and feeling some of the old anger come back up. “You were horrible to me after mom died! I needed you and all you could think about was yourself. And where the next drink was coming from. I tried to help you, but I was only a kid! I wasn’t supposed to be taking care of you, it was supposed to be the other way around!”
Jenna stopped as she realized she was screaming her accusations at the concrete marker. Taking several breaths between her tears, she tried to calm herself down, but there was more to be said. “You hurt me. Not only physically, but you destroyed my spirit, my confidence, and my identity. It’s taken me over six years, and I thought I had it all together. I’ve built my healing around hating you!”
She picked up the prayer journal, waving it in the air at the gravesite, “But then I found this! I can’t hate you, and I don’t know what to do about that. My life was so horrible at times; I would have gladly come home and gone back to being your punching bag, if it meant I could have just come home. How twisted is that! And now that I am home, nothing is as I thought. You made me doubt my worth! You pushed me away and it cut so deep, that I assumed everyone else had gone away because I wasn’t worth their time or energy.”
Jenna screamed out her anguish, continuing to tell her father’s gravesite everything she was feeling. When her voice grew hoarse, and her tears dried up, she was exhausted and simply lay down on the bed of leaves and sobbed for the loss of whom she’d once been.
Trey had been keeping a careful eye on Jenna until she started yelling at her father’s grave. His own father, Pastor Terrence Cottrell, had come out the side door of the church, having heard the commotion and concerned that someone was in need of assistance. When he saw his son keeping watch, he joined him by the SUV, “Is everything all right?”
Trey shook his head, “Dad, I don’t know. Jenna’s been out there by her parents’ gravesites for almost an hour now. She started screaming at her dad a few minutes ago. I’m really worried about her.”
Trey looked at his dad and then confided in him, “She thinks we all abandoned her because she never heard from any of us. You wouldn’t believe some of the things she told me happened at the youth facilities she was in over the years. She’s had it so rough, and to go through that believing that everyone had thought so little of you, you weren’t worth contacting or keeping in touch….I can’t even begin to know how to help her.”
Pastor Cottrell looked at the young woman who had finally exhausted herself and was now lying prostrate on the ground. “Let me go talk to her. Your mother is wanting to run to the store, would you mind taking her?”
Trey looked at where Jenna lay, and then nodded to his dad, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Dad, I can’t explain it, and I know the timing isn’t right, but I care what happens to her.”
Terrence looked at his son and nodded, “I can see that. Trey, you’ve always been a compassionate person, but I can tell there’s something different about your feelings for Jenna. You may not know this, but whenever she and Michelle were at the house and would start singing, I would step out of my study and just listen. I lost track of the times I heard you open your bedroom door and do the same.
“That young woman has a true gift, and while it may have been mothballed for the last several years, God has wonderful plans to use all of the hardships she’s suffered for the good. Nothing happens in His world by mistake or accident. I can see that you’ve been feeling guilty over your part in her leaving Cathedral Hills, but even that wasn’t an accident. You have to believe that God is working everything out according to His plan.”
“I do believe that, but how could Jenna having suffered so much be considered a good thing?”
“I didn’t say that, son. I said that God could turn those trials into victories if she’ll let Him.”
Trey nodded his head, “I think she’s already started down that path. She wants to open up some sort of half-way house for teens who were like her. She’s even studying to become a licensed counselor.”
Terrence looked out over the cemetery and then back at Trey, “Take your mother to the store and leave Jenna to me. I’ll talk with her and you can pick her up when you get back.”
Trey watched his father start out across the cemetery grounds, relieved that he didn’t have to try and navigate Jenna’s emotions by himself. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing, but he just felt so inept. He could manage the paperwork and duties of running the small bank, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to help Jenna come to terms with everything in her life. Just be there for her. Be her friend. Be her confidant when she needs one. Be the shoulder she cries on when her insecurities paralyze her and keep her from moving forward.
Trey closed his eyes and asked God to be with his father as he tried to help Jenna. Opening them, he felt better and headed over to retrieve his mother. The quicker he took her to the store and got back, the sooner he’d be able to put into action what he was being directed to do.
* * *
Chapter 16
Terrence approached Jenna quietly, wondering, when she didn’t stir, if she’d fallen asleep. As he came up next to her, he saw that her eyes were open, tear tracks drying on her cheeks, her hands clutching a small leather book as if it was her last lifeline.
“Jenna?”
Jenna sat up abruptly, hearing someone other than Trey call her name. Looking to her left, she saw Pastor Cottrell standing nearby with his hands in his pants pockets. “Pastor.”
“Mind if I sit down?” Pastor Cottrell inquired, gesturing to a spot on the grass nearby.
“No. Sorry if I disturbed you. I guess I was pretty loud, huh?”
“Depends,” he replied.
“On what?” Jenna asked, perplexed at his one word answer.
“Did you say everything you needed to say?”
Jenna started to answer him in the affirmative and then paused, “Not quite. I told him everything wrong he did, but I didn’t get around to telling him I forgive him.”
“Ah,” Pastor said with a nod of his head. “You know, Jenna. Forgiveness is the most precious gift we can ever give. It not only frees the person who has wronged us, it frees us to live in grace and peace. Forgiveness is like untying a balloon. Once given, it allows all of the negative emotions attached to the situation to float away, never to return.”
Jenna was quiet for several minutes, her finger alternating between picking up fallen leaves, and pulling up blades of grass as she thought about his comments. “I do forgive him, but I wish I had tried to contact him sooner and been able to tell him that face to face.” She held up the small journal, “I found this in his desk drawer this morning. He prayed for me every day for the last five years and some.”
Pastor nodded his head, “Yes, he did. He also met with the men of the congregation once a week for a Bible study, and not a week went by where he didn’t request prayer for you. Never doubt your father’s love for you, Jenna. You were his life! He was a perfect man, by no means. But he did repent and try to make things right the last few years of his life. That is what counts!”
Jenna nodded, “I’ve hated him for a long time. How do I let go of that? I can’t forget what I suffered because of his actions.”
“No one’s asking you to forget, but maybe you could find a way to turn those hardships and struggles into battles won and victories. God never promised us easy lives, but He did promise to always be with us. You may not realize it now, but God never left you. He was with you through everything.”
“I know that. I abandoned him, I think. I was so angry when I first left here, and then hurt and alone, and depression set in. I allowed my circumstances to dictate my choices, and I made some monumental mistakes.”
“But you’re here now, so those mistakes were rectified, correct?”
“Yes. To tell you the truth, since I arrived in Cathedral Hills yesterday, everything has b
een so different than I thought, I feel like I’ve been crying the entire time.”
“Trey mentioned that you felt like everyone here had abandoned you. Can you accept that you believed a lie?”
“I’m trying. I really am. My counselor said pretty much the same thing to me this morning when I called her. It sounds easy on paper, but maybe a little more difficult in actual practice.”
Pastor Cottrell was silent for a moment, and then suggested, “Jenna, I want to pray with you, and then I think we should head indoors to wait for Trey and Mary to return.”
Jenna glanced to where Trey had parked his vehicle, frowning when the parking space was empty, “Where did he go?”
“Mary needed a few things from the store and I asked him to drive her there and back. Let’s say a prayer together. Gracious Heavenly Father, we ask right now that you would be with Jenna. Strengthen her and let her feel your comforting presence as she confronts the lies she has lived beneath for these last few years.
“Give her your wisdom to discern the truth, and give her a clear direction for her future. Be with her now as she let’s go of the negative feelings of abandonment and hurt, and give her peace in the knowledge that she can move forward from this point on having forgiven every wrong thing she has suffered. Heal her emotional scars and give a new found purpose for her life. In Your Holy name we pray, Amen.”
Jenna lifted her head, feeling a lifting inside her soul. She smiled, and for the first time in years, it reached her eyes. “Thank you,” she told Pastor Cottrell. “I really do feel better.”
“Good. Now, if you would be so kind as to give me a hand up off this damp grass. I’m not as young as I used to be, and the old knees are starting to complain a bit.”
Jenna laughed, pushing herself to her feet and then giving Pastor Cottrell a hand up off the ground. “There you go.”
“Thank you, my dear. Now, I hope we’ll see you in church Sunday?” he inquired as he led the way back to the small home he shared with his wife.
A New Start Page 13