by Glynna Kaye
“Jodi,” Garrett murmured against her ear. “I—”
A loud, merry tune abruptly shattered the quiet, startling her. The cell phone in her pocket.
Garrett grazed his lips along her cheek, then reluctantly stepped back.
With his arms no longer around her, the room’s chill once again pierced and, dazed from the unexpected turn of events, she pulled out her phone. Star.
“I’d better take this. It’s my sister. Keep your fingers crossed that they’ve changed their minds about coming.”
He nodded, and she longed to reach out to him, but he moved away to again inspect a dormer window.
She forced a cheery note into her voice. “Hey, Star, what’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know there’s been a change in plans.”
Jodi’s spirits soared. “That’s too bad.”
“No, it’s not. Ronda and I will be bringing the kids up on Wednesday instead of Friday. That way we can all have more time to relax and visit, and the kids will get more snow time. The weather forecast looks promising for additional white stuff.”
Jodi’s skyrocketing hopes deflated. There went any hoped-for time alone—and time to spend with Garrett to come to terms with what had just happened between them. “There’s no way I can be ready for you by Wednesday.”
“Don’t worry about it. Ronda and I’ll be there to help now, so don’t knock yourself out. We got to thinking that we’re dumping a lot on you. Expecting you to make all this happen for our kids, and that’s not exactly fair.”
No it wasn’t, but... “I don’t even have a tree yet.”
The porch rails had to be wrapped in fresh greenery and fairy lights, too. An order for Christmas dinner needed to be placed, groceries bought. More gifts purchased. Activities planned.
Baby Jesus found.
“Star, I’m not nearly done clearing things out and boxing them up for keeping or a drop-off at Goodwill.”
“Since we’re coming early,” Star said cheerfully, obviously thinking they’d hit on the ideal solution with an early arrival, “we can help with all that. And we won’t take no for an answer. We’ll pick up fried chicken or subs when we get to town, so don’t plan anything for lunch, okay?”
Jodi glanced toward Garrett, who was watching her with sympathy in his eyes, obviously getting the gist of the conversation. What choice did she have but to agree with her sisters’ plans? “Okay. Guess I’ll see you then.”
“Count on it.”
When her sister hung up, Jodi re-pocketed her cell phone.
“Not what you wanted to hear, was it?” Garrett moved to stand beside her.
“No. As I’m sure you could tell from my side of the conversation, my sisters and their kids are coming early. So I have until noon Wednesday to get everything done that I have to get done.”
“I’ll help as much as I can. And I’ll start with these windows.”
“Thanks.” But the heaviness in her heart didn’t dissipate despite the opportunity to spend more time with Garrett. “I really needed—”
Time alone with God.
“We’ll get ’er done, Jodi.” He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips for quick kiss. “And while we’re working together—”
“We have things we need to talk about,” she finished.
“Right.”
But she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about them. To dissect and pull apart the blissful moments she’d just spent in Garrett’s arms. To come back down to a world of reality—Garrett’s imminent departure and her secrets that would have to be shared if things were to move ahead between them.
“Or maybe,” she ventured, “we just live with knowing that we were stupid teenagers and that God knew what He was doing back then when He kept us apart. Not try to make something happen outside of His will that He has no intention of placing His blessing on.”
Chapter Twelve
Garrett flinched inwardly at her words as he thoughtfully stroked her hand with his thumb. Was she right? Were the kisses they’d shared only a few moments ago merely a rebound from their teenage years, holding no substance? “Is that what you want? To set aside what just happened between us?”
“A lot of years have passed. We’re different people than we were back then.”
“True. We’re now adults who are fully capable of honestly discussing our feelings. Capable of listening to each other and listening to God.” He gently squeezed her hand. “I know the timing stinks with me readying to leave town, and I can’t tell you what the future will bring. I can’t tell you what God’s plans are for my life, let alone yours. But I do know I’m open to whatever time He needs to share with us His direction. Are you?”
“I—” Her eyes searched his uncertainly. Searching—for what? A guarantee? A promise he couldn’t make at this time? “I...am.”
He softly released a pent-up breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“But—” she hurried on before he could speak, “there are things you don’t know about me, Garrett. Things that will make you feel much differently about me. Things that will open your eyes to the fact that maybe God has already cast His vote against any future for us.”
What was she talking about? “Sometimes we let things get bigger in our minds than they really are, forgetting there’s nothing that God can’t make right.”
“He can’t take me back in time to make better choices.”
“No, but—”
“I got pregnant, Garrett,” she blurted, pulling her hands away from his and taking a step back. “About a year after I moved to Philadelphia, I had a relationship with a man I wasn’t married to. And... I got pregnant.”
A muscle tightened in his throat.
Anton? Or some other guy? But he couldn’t point accusing fingers at her extramarital relationship. He, too, was guilty as charged. But she didn’t have a child now...did she? Was she trying to tell him she’d had an abortion? “So...you have a child?”
She shook her head, and his gut tightened.
“No. Not a full-term baby. I miscarried him—or her—at three months. Four years ago this very month.”
Grateful she hadn’t made a decision to end a life, but not relieved when he saw the raw pain in her eyes, he again took her hand in both of his. “I’m sorry.”
“And you know what’s even worse? What still eats me alive at times?” She blinked back tears. “For most of those three months once I suspected I was pregnant, I woke up every single morning and went to bed every single night wishing that baby away. Wishing from the depths of my soul that I’d dreamed the nightmare it had become during my every waking moment. Shaking my fist at God because He’d allowed it to happen.”
Chin trembling, she hung her head.
“I didn’t want that baby, Garrett. Not...not until only a few days before I lost him. I’d just begun to come to terms with my reality, with the fact that I carried a precious life within me when, suddenly, something went wrong.”
She looked at him again, her dark eyes filled with anguish.
“Did God,” she continued, “answer my prayers to put that baby out of my life? I don’t know, but I’ll always wonder. Wonder what impact on the world that life might have had if I’d carried him to full term. I mean, even though the situations are quite different, what if Mary, the mother of Jesus, had panicked and rejected him the way I rejected my own child? Prayed his little unborn life away?”
Staring into her pleading eyes, his mind flashed to her reaction when they’d first discovered her grandma’s nativity set was missing baby Jesus. How he’d unknowingly persuaded her to work on a project for unwed mothers.
“Oh, Jodi.” His heart breaking, he gently tugged her forward.
She came willingly, slipping her arms around his waist to press the side o
f her face against his chest. To cling to him as though somehow she could draw strength from him as her tears flowed quietly, her body trembling in his arms.
His sweet, sweet Jodi had made a wrong choice—and borne so much pain as a result. He closed his eyes and laid his head against hers. Please, God, hold her tighter than I can. Heal her heart. Fill her with your peace. Give me the words of comfort she needs to hear.
The cold coming in around the windows seemed to intensify, the silence around them broken only by the sound of Jodi’s muffled grief. Had the chimney sweep finished up by now? Left already? He’d gladly bear any consequences should someone take an exception to him being here alone with Jodi. She needed him, and he wouldn’t turn her away.
Right now he only wanted to comfort and protect—for a lifetime—the woman he held so closely. A woman he’d so swiftly grown to care for—to love? Plans for the mission field threatened to fade into the background. But he’d made a commitment. To God, if not to a missions team itself yet. A commitment he still had every intention of fulfilling. But was it his Heavenly Father’s plan to wrench this woman from his heart—or to somehow work things out between them?
He tightened his arms around her. How long they remained standing in the upstairs room, entwined in each other’s arms, he couldn’t have told. Time stood still. But eventually, Jodi pulled slightly back and looked up at him, lashes starred with tears. “Thank you, Garrett.”
He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You’re forgiven, Jodi. You know God’s already done that, don’t you? From the moment you first cried out to Him.”
She nodded, wiping away a tear, and he handed her his handkerchief. “But it’s hard for me to forgive myself.”
“At the risk of sounding blunt, being unwilling to forgive yourself is kind of like taking Jesus’s sacrificial gift and tossing it in the trash.”
“But I’ve harbored such a deep-seated anger toward God about all of it. Anger because He didn’t stop me from getting involved with Kel. Anger because I lost my baby. Anger because of Anton’s death.”
“Is that why things didn’t work out between the two of you? You told him about the baby and he couldn’t accept it?”
“No. Even though he wanted to marry me, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. I couldn’t even tell the baby’s father. Nobody knew except me, my doctor and the medical staff. Not even my family.”
She’d borne her grief alone.
“But—but can’t you see, Garrett, that I’m not exactly front-runner material for you, as a pastor, to be getting involved with? You may be able to forgive my past mistakes, but you can’t partner with someone who’s held a grudge against God, whose faith is still as wobbly as a sapling in the wind.”
He gently cupped her face in his hand. “We’re called believers for a reason, Jodi. Believers in God. Believers that He loves us and has good plans for us. Start believing now, this very moment, putting your confidence and trust in Him again. Let this be a turning point in your life that you’ll look back on and be thankful for.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“We make it more complicated than it is. I know you’ve often heard that without faith it’s impossible to please God. We have to believe He exists and recognize He rewards those of us who seek Him.” He smiled encouragingly. “And when you decide to believe—it’s a choice, Jodi—it’s been my experience that your eyes will be opened to how God has been with you all along. And you’ll begin to see evidence of His continued presence reinforced, even in the midst of the worst of heartaches.”
Hadn’t God found him when he was wallowing in the lowest moments of his life following Drew’s injury?
“So what do you say, Jodi?” He had no right to ask her this, not with his future up in the air. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Are you willing to join me in not only renewing your belief in Him, but believing He’ll provide us answers to where He wants our friendship to go?”
Her eyes searched his. “Kinda scary, isn’t it? I mean, what if He says no?”
“If he does, then we can know He has our best in mind and have peace with that.” He could say that glibly enough, but deep down he knew what he wanted. Knew he’d be deeply disappointed if God permanently closed the door. “So... I’ll ask you again. Are you willing to step out with me to see what He has in mind?”
A multitude of thoughts were obviously racing through her head. Then she swallowed. Nodded. “I am.”
Joy bolted through him. But he’d just leaned in, hoping for a kiss to seal their pact, when from somewhere above their heads came a loud thump. Then a scrambling, scraping sound.
Jodi’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
“Up on the housetop, reindeer pause...?” he couldn’t help but sing softly.
She gently punched his arm. “Oh, you.”
He laughed. “I think our chimney sweep has moved to the roof. Should we go out and make sure she’s okay?”
“Maybe we’d better.”
Hand-in-hand they headed to the stairs, his heart filled with hope. But uncertainty lingered under the surface for, as Jodi had put it, how would God cast His vote?
* * *
For the remainder of the day and all through the next, Jodi’s heart sang as she went about her chores. Praise songs bubbled up within. Old hymns surfaced from childhood that she’d long forgotten. And deep down inside, a peace she hadn’t had in years flooded her soul. No, there were no guarantees that God had a plan for her and Garrett as a couple, but her joy went much deeper than the glimmering hope she held for that.
Today, all on her own, she’d made a gift delivery to Kimmy, a local fifteen-year-old girl seven months pregnant, who’d recently been kicked out of her home. An elderly great-aunt getting by on Social Security had taken her in, so the two were struggling even though determined to give the baby up to a family who would love and care for it. Jodi had found herself encouraged by the girl’s resolve not to allow a mistake to become an even deeper, more permanent tragedy. And to her surprise, for the first time ever, when accusing fingers began to point at Jodi in her imagination, she’d prayerfully pushed them aside. Somehow, she hadn’t come away from an encounter with the pregnant young woman with self-condemnation filling her own heart.
She’d never before confessed to anyone the full nature of her relationship with Kel or the loss of her unborn child. There had never before been an opportunity to be held in comforting arms as the grief of regrets and loss poured out freely. Never had she confessed her carefully hidden doubts as to God’s love for her. Until Garrett.
It was long overdue. She could see that now.
And to audibly hear Garrett pronounce with such assurance that God had forgiven her? It had been as if a dam inside her soul broke open, and for the first time in ever so long, she was no longer held hostage to her doubts and fears.
O come all ye faithful...!
“We’re making progress.” Not long before sunset on Tuesday, Garrett stepped back to admire the fairy lights he’d finished wrapping around the greenery on the porch railings.
From the open cabin doorway, Dolly nodded her approval. “Picture-perfect, don’t you think, Jodi?”
“So festive,” she agreed. The tiny lights sparkling in the twilight reflected the glow in her heart—and the telltale shine in Garrett’s eyes when he looked at her.
“If you have everything done out here,” his landlady said as she motioned to the interior of the cabin behind her, “there’s tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches awaiting you. Better get in there before Al eats more than his fair share.”
Once inside, Jodi was again filled with a deep sense of satisfaction at the transformation of the cabin. With Dolly and Al generously offering to chaperone, they and Garrett had helped her with final preparations for her family’s arrival tomorrow.
A brightly lit eve
rgreen—straight from the local landscape nursery—now stood in a corner near the front window. She would let the kids decorate it when they arrived, just as she and her sisters used to do. Swags of greenery wrapped around support posts, and the nativity set—sans baby Jesus—stretched across the console table against the wall where it would be less likely to be knocked off by younger members of the family. Battery-lit candles flickered in the windows and on the mantel above a crackling fire, and the air held the subtle scent of pine and burning oak.
Garrett pulled out a chair for her at the big dining table. “Looks like something out of a magazine, doesn’t it, Jodi?”
“Thanks to all of you.”
“Your grandma would be so pleased with what you’re doing for your nieces and nephew.” Al reached out for Jodi’s hand on one side and that of his wife on the other, preparing for the prayer. He nodded pointedly at her to take Garrett’s hand on her other side, so she self-consciously slipped hers into Garrett’s big, warm one and bowed her head.
Did Al and Dolly sense any difference in their interactions? Catch the furtive glances, the quick smiles, the lingering looks?
“Father God,” Al began, “we thank You for this special season of remembering the most amazing gift You’ve bestowed on mankind, Your son, Jesus Christ. We thank You that on that day in history, hope was given birth, a bridge so generously established between You and your prone-to-wander creation. We are, indeed, a people blessed. Thank You for this food and our time together this evening. In Your son’s name, amen.”
Garrett gently squeezed her hand as amens echoed around the table.
“Looks like you’re ready to welcome your family. Around lunchtime you said?” Dolly opened a tall metal tin and pulled out a packet of saltines.
“Yes, they’ll be driving up in the morning. Today’s fresh snow should please the kids, but I think the roads should be mostly clear by tomorrow. I’m not sure, though, if anyone is really ready to open the doors to Henry.”
“He’s the four-year-old?”