by Gary Smalley
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered, “I guess I was wishing you were more like you were before we married. You always seemed to know how I was feeling. It was like you could read my facial expressions or tone of voice. You already know how much I’ve wanted to be a mom. We talked this out before we got engaged. You said you wanted kids just as much as I did. Ever since I was a little girl, besides getting married, being a mom’s the only thing in life I ever really wanted.”
She wiped her tears with her hand. “Haven’t you even noticed the depression I go through every month when that day comes, and it’s obvious I’m not pregnant . . . again? I’ve wanted you to ask me about it and pray with me. Maybe help me find Scriptures to encourage me. Or just hold me close and tell me it will be okay, and say someday soon our baby would come.”
The words hung there in the air between them. For several moments, he didn’t answer. He just kept staring at his half-eaten plate of spinach-noodle casserole.
When he did look up, she could see that tears had welled up in his eyes. He got up from the table, walked around to her side, and held her. He gently kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Michele. So very sorry.”
20
It was all happening so fast.
Christina had hated this dingy apartment from the first day she moved in. She walked through the handful of rooms to make sure she hadn’t left anything she might care about later. Once she had given the key to the manager, there was no coming back. He’d made that clear. First thing tomorrow morning, his maintenance crew would come through and clean everything out. Everything would go to Goodwill or the dumpster.
She was betting on the dumpster getting the bigger share.
The apartment had come unfurnished, except for a few odd chairs in the living/dining area. She had added a wobbly dinette table with two metal folding chairs (her ex-boyfriend had actually pulled these out of someone’s trash pile). In the bedroom, the same decor. In the center of the floor, a double bed mattress—no box spring. In the corner, a fake-wood chest of drawers—no mirror. One end was actually propped up by three bricks, making it one inch higher than the other.
An image of the garage apartment she was moving to flashed through her mind. Stepping out of the bedroom, she shook her head in fresh disgust. “This is so awful.” Back in the living area, she slowly spun around the apartment. “Thank you, Lord, for delivering me from this place.”
Shutting the front door behind her, she felt such relief. Marilyn had told her all the furniture in her new apartment was staying. Doug was coming back this weekend to gather up the few things he’d left behind, but everything else she had seen when touring the place was hers to use for as long as she lived there.
Bending forward, she locked the front door . . . for the last time. “This is so wonderful,” she said aloud. She walked down the steps toward her car, wondering if she’d see Doug at church that morning. She hoped so. Marilyn had invited her to join the Anderson family afterward for dinner. Then she could move into the apartment. Starting today, she would be a resident of River Oaks.
River Oaks. She couldn’t restrain a smile.
Her car started right up, compliments of the new battery. Another Anderson family provision. She glanced at the seat beside her then at the floorboard. She reached behind her, pulled out an empty Walmart bag, and started cleaning up. From now on, this car would be parked in a garage on Elderberry Lane. It had better start looking the part. Right then, she decided to spend the five bucks and drive through the car wash. She had enough time before church began.
She turned around in her seat to back up her car, noticing the smattering of small boxes covering the backseat. All she owned in the world. But that was okay. God was giving her a fresh start. Half this stuff might go in the dumpster too in the next few days. Even looking at it now, she saw a number of things that were much too ugly to fit in that adorable little place.
She put her foot on the brake and typed the church address into the GPS app on her phone. She felt a little nervous about visiting a new church, but just a little. It couldn’t be worse than the handful of churches she had visited nearby. No one would miss her in any of those places, that’s for sure. No one had even attempted to reach out to her.
She drove out of the apartment complex then down the road toward River Oaks without looking in the rearview mirror a single time.
Christina pulled into the crowded parking lot of the high school where the church met, following the directions of several men wearing bright orange vests. People of all ages were getting out of their cars and making their way toward the auditorium. They all looked pretty happy.
She parked the car and wrestled with whether to wear her sweatshirt or just carry it in. Now that she had reached the seven-month mark, she was usually too hot, and it did a lousy job of hiding her . . . bump.
She lifted herself out of the car and began walking behind a nice young family a few yards ahead. Mom, Dad, a boy, and a girl, both preschool age, and a baby in a stroller. This is what a family looks like. This is what I want for my baby. God meant for babies to be in families like this one. She was doing the right thing. Adoption was the right choice.
For her, anyway.
As she neared the double set of glass doors, she began scanning the crowd for Marilyn, who was supposed to lead her to where the rest of the family sat. She began feeling edgy and realized why. At the last church, each of the official greeters by the door had done the same thing: smiled, extended their hand, noticed her pregnant belly, noticed she was alone, and noticed there was no ring on her finger. Then the same look in their eyes. She couldn’t quite name it, but it sucked all the welcome out of the air.
But here, that didn’t happen.
Oh, a few of the greeters noticed she was pregnant, but that was as far as it went. The joy in their eyes remained. She didn’t feel judged. She felt . . . welcome.
“Christina, over here.”
She looked toward the voice but didn’t see Marilyn. Lots of other people. A few seconds later, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
“There you are.” Marilyn gave her a hug. “I love that dress on you.”
It was the same dress Christina had worn at the restaurant. “Thanks. This place is crowded.”
“Especially just before the service begins. The pastor said when we get our own building, we’ll make the lobby much bigger, so people can stand around and chat without bumping into each other. Come on, I saved you a seat right next to Jim and me.” They started walking toward the auditorium doors. “Tom and Jean and the kids are here. So are Allan and Michele. They’re a few rows back. But you’ll get to meet them at dinner.”
“Is Doug here, or did he—”
“Yes, Doug’s here. Right next to Jim.”
They walked into the auditorium, which was a little darker except by the stage. The worship band began to play, and everyone stood. The music was fairly loud with a strong beat. People started clapping. Marilyn led her toward the left and down a side aisle. “Just a few rows more,” she said.
The vocalists up front began to sing. Christina recognized the song. It was one of her favorite worship songs on the radio. In fact, the band sounded just like the group on the radio. The people began to sing.
“Here we are,” Marilyn said.
Christina looked down the row and recognized Marilyn’s husband Jim, who was clapping and singing. Doug stood next to him, not clapping, but he was singing. At least, she thought he was. People leaned back to let them by. As they got closer, she looked up at Doug again. Even better looking than she remembered.
He noticed her, smiled, then looked back toward the stage. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. Stop this. She had to put any thoughts of him out of her mind. That wasn’t why she was here. Anyway, with the way she looked, who she was, and who he was . . . it was obvious he’d have no interest in someone like her.
After the closing song and prayer, everyone stood up and began to file out of their seat
s. Marilyn turned to Christina. “So, what did you think?”
“I really liked it. All of it.” She really did. She wasn’t saying that to get in good with Marilyn. “I really understood what the preacher was saying. Parts of it felt like he was talking right to me.”
“I know,” Marilyn said. “That happens to me every week. Come on, I want to introduce you to my other kids. Well, they’re not kids. They’re older than you. There’s Tom and Jean right over there.”
Christina followed Marilyn a few rows back, closer to the exit.
“Christina, I want you to meet my oldest son, Tom. This is his wife, Jean.” Christina shook their hands. “They have three children, Tommy, Carly, and little Abby.”
“Which reminds me,” Jean said. “I’ve gotta go get them out of children’s ministry. It was nice meeting you, Christina. You’re coming to Sunday dinner, right?” Christina nodded. “Then I’ll see you there.”
“And here’s Allan,” Marilyn said. “My daughter Michele’s husband.” Marilyn looked all around. “Where’s Michele?”
“She ducked out already. She’s got a quick meeting with Julie, to go over some new thing with the children’s ministry. But we’ll both be there for dinner.” He reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Christina.”
“Julie is Ray’s wife,” Marilyn said. “He’s one of the pastors. You’ll like Michele. I’m sure of it.”
They stood around a few seconds. Christina looked back to see if Jim and Doug were coming. They were. She thought Doug was looking at her, but he quickly looked away.
21
Michele did her best to suppress her emotions, but it wasn’t working.
She knew Julie, Ray’s wife, would be there any minute. She had to pull it together. They were meeting in one of the classrooms down the hall from the main auditorium. It was pretty much empty. All the parents had already come and collected their children. The teacher’s assistant, a girl about fifteen, was over in the corner putting supplies back in big blue plastic containers.
Michele sat on a chair closer to the door, trying to recover from the horrible words the teacher of that class had just said to her. The middle-aged woman had already left, saying she had some big family celebration to get ready for. Whatever got her out of the classroom.
How could the woman be so cruel and thoughtless? She’d said what she said with a smile on her face, as though passing on a compliment. Michele had recognized the woman as a regular in the church but couldn’t remember her name. She seemed to know Michele and at least some of Michele’s situation.
“Hey, Michele, sorry I’m late.” Michele looked up into Julie’s kind, smiling face. “I was trying to get here but kept getting stopped in the halls.”
“That’s okay. I’ve only been here a few minutes.”
Julie sat in the chair next to her. She was holding a white notebook. “This shouldn’t take but a few minutes,” she said. “The introduction chapter in the notebook does a great job explaining itself. I’ve read it over, cover to cover, slowly. Ray didn’t have time to read it because of the trip, but I briefed him pretty thoroughly over coffee yesterday. We’re both excited about this.”
The enthusiasm in Julie’s voice helped to clear the emotional fog for Michele. “What’s it about?”
She handed Michele the notebook. “Let me share the basic concept with you first. We don’t hate the children’s ministry curriculum we’re using now. But Ray and I have been talking, and we’re thinking maybe we could do better, especially with the elementary-aged kids. The biblical content is pretty light in what we’re using now. In some ways, it’s just Christian babysitting. That might be okay for the younger kids, but we’re thinking we can accomplish more with the older ones. So I’ve been on the lookout for a new curriculum that’s still kid-friendly but also gets them in the Word a lot more.”
“So what can I do?” Michele asked.
Julie pointed to the notebook. “We’re hoping you can tell us if you think this material connects well with the older kids in children’s ministry.”
“I suppose I can do that. How much time do I have?”
Julie stood up, so Michele did too.
“You’ve got lots of time. We couldn’t even think about ordering this until after Thanksgiving. Our new semester begins after the Christmas holiday.”
That was a relief. The two women walked to the doorway. “By the way,” Julie said. She looked up and down the hall to make sure there was no one nearby. “A few weeks ago in our prayer group, you asked for prayer about some problem you’re having getting pregnant. I know a little bit about that if you ever want to talk.”
Michele couldn’t help it; she burst into tears.
“Oh no, what’s the matter?” Julie said gently. “Did I say something wrong?”
They stepped back into the classroom. “It’s not you, not what you said.” Michele opened her purse and pulled out a tissue. She sat back in the chair. “It’s something somebody else said.”
Julie sat beside her. “Who? What did they say?”
Michele shook her head. She didn’t even want to repeat it.
“Was it Mrs. Harden? The woman teaching in this classroom a little while ago?”
Michele nodded, wiping her tears. “How did you know?”
Julie released a frustrated sigh. “I’ve had some complaints about her before, and some run-ins with her myself. She’s not the most tactful person.”
“I’ll say.” Michele looked up into Julie’s face. “I don’t think anyone has said anything more hurtful than what she said to me a few minutes ago. I don’t remember if she was in that prayer meeting, but she obviously knew I’ve been trying to get pregnant for almost a year.” Michele paused, trying to regain her composure. “She said it so calmly, like it was just nothing at all.”
“Oh, Michele . . . I’m sorry. What did she say?”
“She said, pretty much just like this . . . ‘Well, don’t worry about it, dear’—she was talking about me not being able to get pregnant—‘God is in control. He knows what he’s doing in these things. Sometimes he doesn’t let women get pregnant because he knows they wouldn’t be good mothers.’”
“What!” Julie shouted. Her face instantly became angry. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You know that’s just a lie, Michele. I’m serious. It’s a complete lie.”
Michele knew on one level it had to be, but it still hurt so badly. First, hearing it, then saying it again just now.
“I am . . . so . . . angry right now,” Julie said. “I just want to . . . no, I’m a pastor’s wife. But you know, Christians can be the most insensitive people on earth sometimes. That is such a ridiculous and ignorant thing to say, on so many levels.” She touched Michele’s arm. “Michele.” Her voice became calmer. “I am so sorry someone from this church said something like that to you. I don’t think that. Ray doesn’t. I can guarantee you none of the other pastors or wives think that. I’d be surprised if anyone else in this entire church thought a thing like that. Because it’s not true. Our faith is based on what Christ said and the things he taught his disciples. He never said anything like that. I’ve got to do something about this.”
“Oh, please don’t do anything,” Michele said. “I don’t want to turn this into a big deal.”
“But it is a big deal,” Julie said. “I don’t want someone who thinks that way—and doesn’t even have the good sense not to say it out loud—to be turned loose in our children’s ministry. I’m sure Ray will feel the same way. Of course, he’ll want me to calm down quite a bit before I do anything. But honestly, I can’t let something like this slide.”
Michele stood up. “Well, I’m glad to hear you say this. Although I really don’t want to make any trouble.”
“You’re not making trouble, Michele. I’m just so sorry you had to experience something like that, in church of all places. Are you going to be okay?”
Michele assured her she would. She looked at the clock on the wall. “I really better go. Got a big Sunday dinner to get to.”
As she walked to the car, she remembered that Christina would be there. When her mom had mentioned this a few days ago, Michele said it didn’t bother her.
Now, for some reason, it kind of did.
22
Michele and Allan drove out of the church parking lot and turned right toward River Oaks. “Do you need to go home first,” Allan asked, “or can we go straight to your folks’?”
“I’m okay, let’s just go straight there.” Michele was doing a little better since that awful experience with the children’s ministry teacher. Hearing Julie’s strong reaction definitely helped. That wasn’t how God felt about her, and it didn’t have anything to do with why he hadn’t allowed her to get pregnant yet.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m okay,” Michele said.
“Did your meeting with Julie go well? You seem a little upset.”
“The Julie part of the meeting was fine. It’s what happened before that.”
Allan stopped at the light. “You mean during the service?”
“No. When I first got to the classroom, before Julie got there.”
Allan looked confused.
She didn’t really want to tell him; it was so upsetting. But she knew their relationship wouldn’t get back on track if she didn’t start communicating more, right when things happened. So she told him everything: what the teacher said, the way she said it, and Julie’s reaction.
His eyes became angrier than she’d ever seen them. “What’s this lady’s name?”
“Why do you want to know?”