The Desire

by Gary Smalley

  He nodded. “Korah.”

  “Right. Korah and this orphanage. Which I’m sure is a very good thing. And I’m sure those kids need all kinds of help. And I’m sure you’d do a great job helping them. And I feel totally guilty and totally selfish for even bringing any of this up. But I’m the one you married, Allan. I’m the one here every day. I feel terrible about the condition of those kids at Korah, but somehow, I feel they’ve taken your heart away from what I’m dealing with, and I’m not sure you understand how much I’m hurting now. I haven’t been able to tell you about my own pain because I don’t want to upset you or stop you from helping those poor kids.”

  Those rotten tears began to well up in her eyes. “And I don’t want to go through this infertility trial alone. I need you to care about this too. Maybe not as much as me, but a whole lot more than you seem to care about it now.” She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a napkin.

  He reached across the seat and took her hand. “You have no reason to feel guilty for anything you just said. The kids living in that dump are not more important than you are and what you’re going through right now. Not to me. I know it may not seem like that right now. Not by the way I’ve been acting since I got home.”

  He paused, as if thinking through something he wasn’t sure how to say. “Some people might think orphan kids eating decent food is a whole lot more important than whether you and I are having problems getting pregnant. But I don’t believe that’s how God operates. Jesus said the Father knows when a sparrow falls to the ground. He knows how many hairs are on each of our heads. He’s got the capacity to care just as much for those kids as he does for you, Michele, and what we’re going through here with you trying to get pregnant. I’m the one with the capacity problem. I’ve gotta figure out a way to care about more than one thing at a time. But I don’t seem to know how to do that.”

  She dabbed the remaining tears in her eyes. “I love you, you know. With all my heart.”

  “I know,” he said. “I love you too. I guess I just need some help figuring out how to love you the right way.”

  “This is helping,” she said.

  “Do you mind if we finish talking in the house?” he said. “I’m really starting to heat up sitting here.”

  “Yeah, let’s go inside.”

  He closed the windows and they got out of the car. Once inside, she saw his countenance change. “What’s the matter?”

  He set his keys, phone, and spare change on the hutch where he always put them. “It’s just . . . at the meeting I had with Ray, I kind of agreed to do all kinds of things to help get this orphanage thing going.”

  “You know I’m not asking you to drop that, right?”

  “I was kind of thinking that was the point of this whole conversation.”

  Michele laughed.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You. The way you think. You really can’t see yourself juggling both of these things at the same time.”

  “I guess I can’t. I haven’t been able to so far.”

  “Well, you’re in luck.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not a single guy. Because you married me. Remember that thing we learned in premarital counseling, about biblical roles? You know, between men and women.”

  “I remember we spent one session on that. But I remember the outline was quite a few pages. What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about what God meant when he told Adam that he was bringing Eve to serve as his helper. Remember what the pastor said about that not being what most people think? That God didn’t intend for Eve to be Adam’s little helper, like some junior assistant. By calling Eve his helper, God was pointing out how much Adam needed the help. And that was part of what God meant when he said it’s not good for man to be alone. You, my love, are not alone. You’ve got gifts, and I’ve got different gifts. And in this situation, my gifts can help you be able to do the things you told Ray you would do. And still have room in your heart to care about me and help me with this infertility challenge.”

  He put his arms around her. “I like the sound of this helper thing. But I don’t see how you can fix my problem. I think I’m hardwired this way.”

  “You are, on your own. But you’re not on your own. Not if you let me help you.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m going to put on some coffee while you go up and change that sweaty shirt.”

  He looked down at it. “I think I need a quick shower.”

  “Even better,” she said. “When you come back down, I’ll have the coffee ready. We’ll sit down at the table and work out a plan. I think what you need is to make time compartments for these things.”

  “Time compartments?”

  “I’ll explain more after your shower. The idea is to block out time for the important things and actually write them into your calendar. That way they don’t sit around inside your head and clutter things up. We’ll figure out how much time you can safely give this orphanage project, and your job will be to live inside the boundaries we set. It’s like how we budget the money, only with time.” She reached up and kissed him. “Now go get your shower.”

  “What about your nap?”

  He released her, and she walked toward the kitchen. “I’m not tired anymore.”

  30

  Thanks for walking with me,” Michele said.

  It was four days later, late morning on Thursday. Michele had called in to the school, but they didn’t need her today. But she wasn’t discouraged. She’d had a wonderful quiet time going over a chapter in the children’s ministry notebook Julie had given her last Sunday. She’d been reading it every morning for the last few days and was getting a lot out of it.

  “You know me,” Jean said, “always looking for an excuse to get out of the house.” They walked through a shaded park about midway between Elderberry Lane and Michele’s townhome. Jean pushed little Abby in a stroller; the baby was sound asleep.

  “Is my mom watching Tommy and Carly?”

  “No, they’re actually in this little preschool I found. Just till noon. They go three times a week.”

  Michele continued down the sidewalk. “Well, the reason I wanted to see you is this notebook, the one I talked to you about on the phone. In a way, it’s rocking my world.” Michele wished she had it with her so she could read some of the things she’d underlined that morning.

  “Really? A children’s ministry book?” Jean said. They reached a corner in the sidewalk and turned to the right.

  “Let’s see if I can explain it. This whole curriculum is based on four basic commands. The idea is that there are four main beliefs every Christian should know and own, and these beliefs flow out of four commands. Two of the four are about love. Love God, love others.”

  “Like what Jesus called the two greatest commandments,” Jean said.

  “Exactly. I’ve read those verses and heard teachings on them lots of times. I don’t know if I’m just in a different place now or if the stuff in this notebook is just saying everything in a different way. But it feels like I’m reading something brand-new. I wanted to run it by you and see what you thought.”

  Just up ahead, the trees ended and so did the shade. “Do you mind if we turn around before we reach there?” Jean said, pointing with her eyes. “I don’t have any sunblock for Abby.”

  “Not at all. It’s starting to get pretty hot out here anyway.”

  “So what about the stuff sounds new?”

  “For starters, I always thought loving God and loving others were just things I was supposed to do, commands I was supposed to obey. Not that I obey them all the time, but I’m supposed to. It’s my job, as a Christian, I mean.”

  “And this notebook says . . . that’s not true?”

  “Not exactly. But it says I need God’s help to love him and love others the right way. On our own, we don’t have the power to pull it off. Including something as basic as loving him and others.
That’s what humility is all about. Being honest about our weakness and being willing to ask for God’s help. Humility makes it possible for us to receive God’s grace, and it’s that grace that gives us the ability to love the way we’re supposed to.”

  They walked a few steps. Jean didn’t respond. Then she finally did. “Wow.”

  “I know,” Michele said. “Doesn’t that change things for you? It did for me. It made me think about why I’m not such a loving person.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jean said. “You are too.”

  “No, I’m really not. Not lately anyway. I know I’m supposed to love. And sometimes I try to be loving. But if I’m being honest, it’s a lot of work. And I think, for the most part, I’m mostly focused on myself. Like this whole getting pregnant thing. I’ve been obsessing about this for months. Really, almost a year.”

  “I wouldn’t say obsessing.”

  Michele stopped walking and looked at her sister-in-law and friend. “Jean . . .”

  “Okay, maybe you were obsessing.”

  “Were obsessing?”

  “You’re not obsessing now,” Jean said.

  They started walking again. “Okay,” Michele said. “Maybe not now but every single day—sometimes every hour of every single day—until this morning. And I’ve been totally stressed out by it. Which is another new thing the notebook talks about. New to me, anyway.”

  “It talks about stress? In a children’s ministry book?”

  “In the part to the parents it does. It connects loving God with living completely free of stress.”

  They reached the same corner of the sidewalk as before, but this time they turned left. Jean shook her head. “Don’t think I’ve heard that before. Go on.”

  “The idea is, when we’re loving God wholeheartedly—which grace helps us to do—we’re finally putting him in the highest place in our hearts. He becomes the object of supreme value. And we start looking to him to meet our deepest needs instead of to other people and other things. And he does. He’s the only one who can. Our tendency is to expect things from his creation that only he can give us. When I read that, Jean, I just froze. I think I do that with Allan all the time. I think I’m doing that with this pregnancy dilemma. I’ve gotten to the place where I can’t see myself ever being happy, not until I have a baby. And since that’s not happening, and we have no idea when it will, I’m doomed to be constantly miserable. Miserable and stressed out.” She was feeling stress just repeating all this.

  They came up to a bench situated midway through the park along the sidewalk. Michele sat.

  “I think I do the same thing,” Jean said. “At least I used to. I still do sometimes, but I think I’m getting a little better at trusting God since our world fell apart last year. That was our overwhelming situation, kind of like you’re having now with this baby thing.”

  Michele was trying hard to remember something she wanted to say. “There was something else I read that got to me. I underlined it twice. What was it? It was something about what causes stress. It was really simple . . .” Then it popped into her head. “I know—the author said stress is the gap between what we expect from God’s creations and what we’re actually receiving. Since only God can meet our deepest needs, the more we look to people and things to satisfy us, the more gaps we’ll have and the more our frustration will increase. Doesn’t that seem true to you?”

  “It makes total sense to me,” Jean said.

  “That’s how loving God with all our hearts reduces stress. The more we look to him as the only one who can make a difference, the less we look to things that can’t truly help us. The stress goes away because the gaps get closed. God fills our hearts with more love and joy and peace while we wait for our circumstances to get better. With our stress and anger no longer controlling us, we get freed up to care about others instead of always thinking about ourselves.”

  Jean just looked at her a few moments.

  “What?” Michele said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking . . . that’s pretty profound, what you just said. I’m thinking I want to read that notebook.”

  “So this kind of seems new to you too?”

  “Kind of,” Jean said. “Not like it’s some weird new doctrine. I just never heard it put that way before. It’s so simple.”

  Michele’s phone rang, startling them both. Even little Abby began to stir. Michele looked at the screen. “Hmm, that’s different.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Christina. She just texted me. She wants to know if we can meet this afternoon. She says she wants to talk about something pretty important.”

  31

  Come on in, Christina.” Michele stepped back from the doorway to let her in. “That’s a cute outfit.”

  Christina walked down the hall past the doorway leading into the kitchen. “Thanks. Your mom took me shopping at the Women’s Resource thrift store.”

  Michele closed the door and walked past Christina into the dining area. “I know where that is. I volunteered there a few months last summer.”

  Christina patted her stomach. “I’m getting down to the final stage where nothing fits. I start working at the gift shop this weekend, the one where your mom works.”

  “Odds-n-Ends,” Michele said.

  “That’s the one. Your mom thought I should have some clothes that didn’t look ridiculous on me.”

  Michele pointed to the dining room table. “I made us some decaf, and this is some crumb cake left over from last night. You can drink decaf, right?”

  “I can. Drinking that’s been one of the hardest things about being pregnant. Well, that and getting in and out of the car.”

  Michele laughed.

  “I miss my afternoon coffee,” Christina said. “I get so sleepy right about . . . now.”

  “Do you ever take naps?”

  “No. I just want this baby to come already, so I can start drinking coffee again.” She poured herself a cup. “Thanks for making it, though. That was thoughtful. And this crumb cake looks almost like the kind I used to get in New York.”

  “That’s real butter, in case you’re wondering,” Michele said. “It’s fattening, but I like putting it on the sides.”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t,” Christina said.

  After they fixed their coffee and cake, they moved into the living room. Michele couldn’t tell by Christina’s demeanor whether she came to talk about something positive or negative. She didn’t seem tense.

  Christina squirmed a few moments then seemed to find a comfortable position. She took a sip of her coffee and said, “Before I tell you why I’m here, I want you to know I haven’t talked to anyone else about this, not even your mom. I know she’s my counselor, or advocate, I guess they call ’em, and for the most part, she’s been really helpful. But after you hear what I’m gonna say, I think you’ll understand why I couldn’t talk to her about this. I didn’t want to put her in the middle.”

  That got Michele’s attention.

  “I prayed a lot about this. I’m still a young Christian, but I gotta go with my instincts, what my heart’s telling me to do. And I felt like I’m supposed to talk to you first, before anyone else. I’m not saying that God’s saying you’ve got to say yes to what I’m asking. I want you to. But honestly, I really can’t tell if you’re supposed to say yes. I’ve got no instincts on that. I’m thinking, God might speak to you or maybe Allan, not to me.”

  Michele took a sip of her coffee, attempting to quiet her growing tension. She wished Christina would get to the point.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m all over the place here. I always do that when I get nervous. You’re not making me nervous. What I’ve got to say is making me nervous.”

  Michele was getting nervous now too.

  Christina reached for her crumb cake, sliced off a corner with her fork, then stopped. “What am I thinking? I can’t eat. Maybe after I get done talking.”

  “You mind if I do?”


  “Not at all. It looks delicious, by the way.”

  Michele took a bite of the crumb cake, trying to break this tension Christina had introduced into the room.

  “Okay,” Christina said, “here goes. I’m at a point in my pregnancy where I have a decision to make.”

  “I thought you already made that decision,” Michele said.

  “No, not that one. You’re right, though. I did make that decision. According to the adoption agency, though, I can change my mind whenever I want.”

  “Are you thinking of changing your mind?”

  “No, not at all. I don’t know why I brought that up. The thing is, so far I haven’t taken very much assistance from this agency. Less than a thousand dollars, I think.”

  “Do you have to pay them back, whatever they give you?”

  “No, I don’t. They made that real clear in the beginning. In fact, if I go through everything, all the way to when the baby’s born, and I change my mind, even then they’ll still pay for everything. In fact, the woman at the agency said it happens to them all the time. And whenever it does, the birth mom is off the hook. Totally. She said if they made us pay the money back after we change our minds, the courts would say we only went through with the adoption because of money pressure. And that would nullify the adoption, because the decision was made under—what did she call it—duress.”

  “I guess I see that logic,” Michele said.

  “I figured out that’s one of the reasons why adoptions are so expensive,” Christina said. “The adoptive couple, the ones who actually get to adopt, wind up paying for all the deals that fell through. Well, deals isn’t the right word. But you know what I mean.”

  Michele thought she did. But she still had no idea where Christina was going with all this. “If you don’t mind me asking, Christina, what does all this have to do with me? I’m not really seeing—”