CHRISTMAS MORNING CAME, AND THE kids wanted to run downstairs to see what Santa had brought. Before they did, Emery said, “Mommy? Daddy? Are y’all ready to read our verses?”
Smiling with delight, I hugged her tight. “Emery, I love you. Thanks for leading our family and making sure we stick to tradition and remember why we celebrate Christmas.”
Thad retrieved the Bible as I gazed at our three children. I was so proud of and thankful for them. They were in their pajamas, Elijah with his Pillow Pet and “doggy,” Frensley in her robe and slippers, and Emery in her Christmas sweatshirt and fuzzy boxers.
Thad passed the Bible around, and the kids took turns reading the Christmas story. When they finished, they sang “Happy Birthday, Jesus,” as always, before running down the stairs.
I prayed silently as they sang. Happy birthday, Jesus. May You be encouraged and loved and praised today. Thank You for all that You have done for our family this Christmas. You are so good. I will forever praise Your name. Amen.
While egg casseroles baked in the oven, I fried bacon and warmed up the pumpkin–chocolate chip bread.
David, Trish, and their kids arrived about 10:00, along with Beauty and Pop. We gathered in a circle as Dad prayed, thanking God for His son, Jesus, who came to save us from our sins. As he prayed, I peeked at the family holding hands with Mom on Christmas morning. Closing my eyes, all I could do was thank Him for this miracle.
Lord, thank You that Mom is here with us. I never, ever thought she would be home for Christmas. This year has been terrible and painful. God, there has been so much suffering and heartache and confusion and fear of the unknown. You have provided for us as You promised. Thank You for Your faithfulness to our family and for carrying us through Your journey. I am forever grateful for Your gift—Your Son, Jesus Christ—and for my mom this Christmas Day. Amen.
Brunch was delicious, and once again Mom looked around the dining table, staring at each of her children. I didn’t want it to end. This was the best Christmas I could remember. How was that possible? How was it possible that amid the pain and suffering of Mom’s incurable disease, I was thanking God? It was possible because of prayers and the power of His love. God does the unthinkable, the unexplainable, the unexpected. He thrives on doing those things for us and showering us with His grace. We don’t deserve Him and His love. But that is His heart. His heart is love. Unending love.
As David and Trish were walking out the door, the house empty and quiet, I pulled David aside. “David, I need to tell you something.” I paused from a knot in my throat. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I get so emotional.”
He stared at me, waiting patiently.
“I wanted to tell you on the night you played the piano for Mom, but it wasn’t the right time.” I started tearing up. “I have to tell you in person.”
My voice trembled. “When you played that song for Mom the other night, I saw forgiveness. You have been on your own journey. I know the things you’ve shared with me the past few years about the hurt you have endured because of Mom. I don’t know what you felt as you played, but what I felt and saw was forgiveness, and I want to say thank you. Thank you for sharing the gift God gave you with our family and doing it for Mom.”
David smiled calmly at me. “You are right, Sarah. My intention was to show forgiveness. I love you very much, and this has been a very special Christmas.”
After we hugged goodbye, I ran upstairs, closed my bathroom door, and sobbed. God had restored a relationship between a mother and son in the most unimaginable way—through a disease. What was even more beautiful? He had allowed our entire family to witness His grace, forgiveness, and mercies before our very eyes.
None of us would have chosen this journey. It’s His journey, chosen for us. I am on it, and it’s the path of life He has chosen for me.
It was the best Christmas ever.
TWENTY - SEVEN
QUE SERÁ, SERÁ
December 30, 2016, to January 1, 2017
FOR THE PAST TWELVE YEARS, Thad, the kids, and I had traveled with his family after Christmas through New Year’s. Usually, we went to Mexico. This year, however, I couldn’t leave my dad in Dallas. The thought of him alone during the holidays pierced my heart.
“Honey, I don’t think I can travel. I need to be in Dallas with Mom and Dad. Would you be okay with that?”
Thad smiled, “Of course, honey. This has been a rough few months, so take it easy and enjoy some quiet time at home. You need the rest. Your dad will be happy to have you here.”
Thad was my rock. His support for me throughout our marriage, especially since his sobriety date, kept me going. He knew I was emotionally raw, and he knew I couldn’t do it all, so he carried some of my burdens. He shopped for groceries, ran errands, and even washed and filled up my car with gas. He participated more in evening soccer carpools for the girls and took Elijah to almost all of his activities. Patient and tenderhearted, Thad knew this was a personal journey, and he didn’t want to get in my way.
Thad also brought me flowers every Friday, and that November, he started taking Mom “Friday flowers” every chance he had. They had a special relationship, making each other laugh all the time, and Thad was the only person besides Carie who could make Mom zip her lips before she started trouble. Over the fourteen years of our marriage, Thad had invested much of his time with my parents. He loved my dad. Thad would tell me, “I hope I can be a father like your dad one day. He is so humble and loving, and he has so much wisdom. He is a gentle soul. I’m incredibly grateful to have him as my father-in-law. I want the special bond you and your dad have for Frensley and Emery and me.”
Thad and the kids left town two days after Christmas. Exhausted by the whirlwind of events, I must have slept twelve or thirteen hours that night.
The next morning, I got a text from Big Ginny.
“Hey! Can we please go to dinner while you are here kid-less? You and I have never been to dinner, just the two of us, and I would love to be with only you, Sarah. This has been so hard for me seeing your mother go down like this.”
As I read her text, I realized that it had rarely been just the two of us together. Maybe a few times in New York City, but that was back in college when I visited for long weekends. Over the past several months, we hadn’t had a chance to talk without being rushed. This was a fabulous idea.
“Let’s do it! How about Friday? By the way, would you want to spend New Year’s with Mom and me? I’ve told Dad I would spend New Year’s Eve with her, and the pianist, Denny, is playing with a band. I thought it would be fun if you, Mom, and I were together dancing the night away. Let me know.”
She immediately texted me back.
“Friday is perfect, and yes, I am in for New Year’s Eve. Go buy Beauty a cute blingy top, and let’s get all dolled up and make it a party!”
I was so excited, I jumped out of bed, threw on my clothes, grabbed a coffee to go, and hit the stores!
Heading to Chico’s, I checked out their “blingy” tops and bought three. One was cherry red with silver trim, another was navy blue silk with gold around the neck, and the third was gold and white, trimmed in gold around the collar. All elegant yet fun.
Over the next few days, I spent a lot of time with Dad. I stayed overnight several times, and we enjoyed our morning coffee together before seeing Mom each day. Having so much time on my hands gave me room for workouts, quiet times, and hours and hours with my parents. No responsibility other than loving on Mom and Dad—there was no greater gift my husband could have given me.
GINNY AND I CHOSE A favorite steakhouse in Dallas. We hadn’t had a juicy steak in a long time, so we splurged on a four-course meal.
The packed restaurant was loud, and the staff wove through the maze of tables. Ginny and I were seated in a back corner where we could hear each other talk.
After our waiter poured us some wine, we lifted our glasses for a toast.
“To Ginny, cheers! Merry Christmas and happy New Year. I love you
like a second mom, and I am thankful to God we are together tonight. Mom would be so happy to know we are together.”
Ginny’s eyes began to water. “Cheers, Sarah. I love you like a daughter, and I love your mother so much. She is the bestest friend I could ever have.”
We talked about the last year and a half since Mom and Dad’s move and all the changes for Mom since then. We discussed how Dad had begun to age before Mom was placed. We broke down every little thing we remembered that preceded placing Mom.
The conversation deepened as we discussed Mom and the trials and sufferings in our lives. I shared with Ginny that Mom had been praying for her for fifty years. It was hard for her to believe.
“Your dad told me that several months ago,” she said. “He said your mother had prayed for me nearly every night before bed for years. It’s really true, isn’t it? Why? Why did she pray for me so much? It’s really amazing, the depth of her love and friendship.”
I leaned in closer. “When I would come home during college, she would pray for you when we prayed together. Mom worried about you. You know, when Mom married Dad, her life changed. Her faith grew stronger, and she had three kids. You, on the other hand, married, had Little Ginny, and then your husband left—with no warning. Do you know how much that devastated Mom?”
Ginny’s eyes filled with tears. She tapped the table with her fingers and began to reflect.
“It’s true. He flat out left me. He left me to raise our precious Ginny all on my own. There I was, in Dallas, living the life, with this beautiful little girl. He was successful, we were financially secure, and we had a ton of friends. Then one day he tells me he doesn’t love me anymore and doesn’t come home. I was a baby, Sarah. I was so young. I didn’t know what to do. He left me for another woman.”
“I can’t imagine. That had to be terribly painful. You are an amazing mother. I can’t believe what an incredible job you did raising Little Ginny.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy. But the fact that your mother prayed for me all of those years just makes me feel so . . . so . . . I don’t have the words.” She dabbed her eyes with her black linen napkin. “Deeply loved.”
My heart was pounding. I wanted to tell Ginny more about how and why Mom was able to love her so well. I knew why, but I wasn’t sure Ginny understood.
“Ginny, she prayed for you because she wanted you to experience what she had, and that was Jesus. I don’t know how else to tell you, but she wanted you to know Jesus. She prayed you would understand who He was and how much He loved you, and she wanted you to have a better life that was more meaningful. A life that wasn’t focused on material things and money. When you moved to New York City when Little Ginny was six, you had to survive. And the way you survived was seeking things that were meaningless. Money and material things lead us nowhere. They fill us up for a while, but that sense of satisfaction doesn’t last. The one thing no one can take away is our faith. Do you see what I’m saying?”
She looked down and paused before speaking.
“Yes, I do. Look at me now. I’m seventy-two, and I still don’t have a husband. Oh, Sarah. Where did I go wrong?”
A tear rolled down Ginny’s face.
“You didn’t do anything wrong! You did everything you knew to do and to the best of your ability. Your daughter is amazing. I love her—she’s my soul sister. You raised her unbelievably well considering your circumstances. Don’t beat yourself up, Ginny.”
“Well,” she said, laying her napkin neatly in her lap, “I have to agree with you. I do have the best daughter in the world. I don’t know what I would ever do without my Ginny. We are so close.”
“I know you are. Believe me, I know.”
Ginny took a sip of her wine. I wasn’t sure what to say next but felt like my mom was saying, “Sarah, please share Christ with her. I have tried, but it’s your turn. I need you to do this for me because I can’t anymore.”
But it was Ginny herself who opened the door. She reached across the table and grabbed my hands as tears streamed down her face.
“Sarah, how can I get that love your mother has? How? Please tell me. I need to know, and I want to feel that. I want to know it.”
My palms began to sweat. I knew it was time for God and Mom to take over for me.
“All you have to do is ask Jesus to be Lord of your life, to commit to following Him. It’s not just about voicing or believing He is the Son of God. It’s about accepting Him into your heart and life and believing He will forgive you of your sins and make you new again. He can change your life, I promise you. He’s changed mine. He’s changed Thad’s. He changed Mom’s.”
I gazed into her big blue eyes as I squeezed her hands.
“It’s very simple. All we have to do is ask. He promises that if we ask in faith, we shall receive. I’m happy to pray with you right now, right here. Do you want me to pray with you?”
“Yes. Please. I want my life to change. I want to feel that kind of love like never before. I will do anything, Sarah.”
Ginny was desperate and hurting inside. She had questions she couldn’t ask her best friend anymore. I could hear the regret in her voice. But I had the part of Mom in me that Ginny wanted to be with that evening.
“Ginny, close your eyes and repeat after me.”
I said the Believer’s Prayer with Ginny, and she repeated every word. She asked Jesus into her life, to be Lord of her life, and she thanked Him for loving her despite her sins and faults.
After we prayed and opened our eyes, a peace came over Ginny. She smiled and laughed, and she grew more radiant as the night progressed. We shared things with each other that neither of us had shared with anyone else before.
I told Ginny on the way home how much I loved her, God loved her, and Mom loved her. I also told her that now that she had accepted Jesus into her life, it was up to her to pursue a deep relationship with Him. In other words, spend time in the Bible, read devotionals, seek fellowship, and pray.
On reaching home, I fell to my knees and cried. I cried, wanting Mom to be with us. I wished Mom had witnessed our evening together. Fifty years of prayer, and then God used me to share the gospel with Ginny.
Though shocked, I was elated over what had happened. Staying in Dallas to be with Mom and Dad had been my plan. But God knew all along that Ginny and I would share that impromptu dinner.
Our conversation was not by chance, and the dinner, no coincidence. It was divine intervention. Mom had prayed for Ginny, and God heard her, and in His time sent Ginny His saving gospel. He knew, and He was glorified that night.
THE NEXT MORNING, NEW YEAR’S Eve, I called Dad.
“Daddy, you won’t believe our dinner last night! You’re not going to believe how amazing it was.”
“Really? I’m so glad y’all had that time together.”
“Dad, Ginny accepted Jesus last night!”
“What?”
“We were talking about Mom and how much she loved Ginny and how she had consistently prayed for her over the years. One thing led to the next, and I really felt like Mom was speaking to me and wanted me to share Jesus with her.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Dad said. “Your mother has prayed for her for as long as I can remember. I can’t believe it. That is wonderful, Sarah.”
“I know, Daddy! She was so happy last night. We had the best time. I will never forget last night, ever.”
“I’m going to see Mom soon. Do you think it’s okay if I tell her? Or do you think Ginny will want to tell her?” Dad asked.
“I think Ginny would love for you to tell her. Who knows if tonight will be the time, with all their New Year’s Eve activities. You might explain it to her better in a quiet space, where she can take it all in.”
“All right then. I can’t wait. She’s going to be so happy. Even though she won’t remember, I know this is going to bring a peace and joy Mom hasn’t felt in a long time.”
A deep thought came over me. “Do you remember what I told you after we placed Mom
? I said that if Mom knew this disease would lead even one person to Christ, she would accept it a thousand times over again. And little did I know that one person would be her best friend. I’m speechless over the whole thing. It’s truly unbelievable.”
Dad spent all day with Mom, knowing that when he left, he would feel at peace that they had been together. Ginny and I would be with Mom for New Year’s evening.
Dad told me later that when he told Mom, she had the sweetest smile on her face. Putting her hand over her heart, she said, “She did? Wow. She really did it. He answered my prayers, David.”
“God heard you, Beck. It took a long time, but you were persistent and never gave up. Isn’t it amazing He used your own daughter to pray with her?”
“Yes,” Mom said. “It is.”
WHEN GINNY AND I ARRIVED for New Year’s Eve, we found Mom looking beautiful in the gold-and-white sweater with the gold trim and beading. Her tan pants complemented the gold in the sweater, and her makeup looked angelic. Once again, her face looked soft and beautiful with her brown eyeliner, mascara, and her favorite red lipstick.
We had reserved a three-top table downstairs. Carol, the social director, had decorated the tables with party hats and gold-and-black headbands that read, “Happy New Year!”
I put headbands on Mom and myself, while Ginny chose a gold hat. At the kitchen bar, I poured Mom a glass of nonalcoholic wine, while Ginny and I shared our own wine from home.
The three of us clinked glasses and cheered. After a cheer and a toast, Ginny said, “Becky, let’s show these old people how to dance!”
Mom was in heaven. She laughed so hard with her two favorite gals. In that instant, life couldn’t have been better for me. This is going to be my second best New Year’s ever, the first being with Thad fifteen years ago.
Broken Beauty Page 25