Letting Go (Healing Hearts)

by Michelle Sutton

  Diane nodded. It was the only time she hadn’t won . . . and the same year her father died. She wondered how to change the subject.

  She was relieved when Rachel said, “Well, that’s it for introductions. Does anyone have a prayer request before we start reading?”

  Diane hesitated and looked around. She started to open her mouth, but lost her courage.

  Katia tapped her arm and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Do you want me to tell them about your upcoming surgery and ask them to pray for you? I won’t tell them what it’s for if you don’t want me to.”

  Diane shook her head and whispered, “No thanks.” Feeling uncomfortable, she folded her hands and listened, not wanting to sound dumb.

  When the women finished praying and started their study, several began referring to God as their Father and said He disciplined His children in love. She could no longer remain silent. She wanted to ask them the troubling question she had carried in her heart for so long.

  She raised her hand. “I have a question.”

  She had been silent up to that point, and the other women turned a surprised look toward her.

  Rachel nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “I . . . I’d like to know how you deal with the concept of God as a father compared to your real father. I mean, what if your dad wasn’t such a great guy? Can anyone explain how they would handle this?”

  “That’s an insightful question,” Rachel answered. “We’ve discussed the topic several times before. In fact, I’m still dealing with that issue. When negative feelings stir up in my heart regarding my father, I always take them to the Lord. I haven’t seen my dad in eleven years. Not since he left my mother for another woman. He hasn’t tried to contact me, so I don’t know if he’s dead or alive.”

  Rosa shifted on her chair. “My father died when I was very young, so my uncles helped my mother raise me. I don’t remember much of anything about my father. So I have no example to pull from. God is the only Father I have.”

  “Many of you have heard this before, so I’ll be brief,” Katia said. “Communists killed my father when he tried to protect my mother from their abuse. I was only seven. Mom died that day too. From the little bit I remember of my father, I can say that he loved Jesus, he was kind, and I know for sure that he loved me.”

  She scanned each member of the group before her gaze fell on Diane. “Many of us have had negative experiences with earthly fathers who can’t or won’t follow God’s perfect example. So we look to our heavenly Father for the unconditional love our fathers couldn’t give us.”

  Diane’s lungs squeezed. Katia’s humble attitude impressed her. She used her negative experiences to make her stronger, something Diane wished she could do.

  “My dad is a really great guy,” Amy piped up. “I was raised in a Christian home. I haven’t had to deal with the things some of you guys have experienced. I can’t even begin to imagine how you cope.”

  Diane took a shaky breath. “What if your father only loved you when you did what he wanted? What if you always felt like you had to earn his love? What if you were always waiting for his approval and wondering if he’d ever stop—”

  She choked on tears. Hunching over, she covered her face with her hands.

  A hush fell over the group. The atmosphere grew thick around her, almost deafeningly quiet. Her experience was such a stark contrast to the other women. The peace that had enveloped her when she first arrived now evaporated like an elusive mist.

  Her father’s silky voice penetrated her thoughts. Sometimes I wish you weren’t my daughter, Di. You’re so beautiful.

  Diane’s heart pounded. Revulsion at the memory made her stomach lurch. She forcibly shut her father’s words out of her mind and glanced up. None of these women would understand her past. They would think it had been her fault.

  Maybe it was my fault. I didn’t stop him. I always did what he wanted.

  She shook off the twisted thought. “I’m sorry. I thought I . . . I don’t think I can do this. I have to go. Please excuse me for being rude.” Before anyone could protest, she grabbed her purse, got up, and ran to the front door.

  Katia followed and tugged at her sleeve. “Wait, Diane. Don’t go. We can help. It’s obvious you’re hurting. Please let us help you. That’s what friends are for.”

  Diane stared, her eyes not focusing as she looked beyond Katia. Rachel suddenly appeared next to Katia with the other women standing behind her. It was too much.

  A lump grew in Diane’s throat. “I can’t stay. I’m not ready for this.”

  Katia offer her a hug. “Consider coming back, then?”

  Diane nodded, but didn’t respond. Negative thoughts invaded her mind and crowded out everything else.

  You don’t belong with them. They’re a bunch of hypocrites, you’ll see. Besides, nobody understands your pain. Don’t talk to them. They’ll just blame you.

  She ran down the driveway to where she’d parked her Mercedes. The moment she buckled in she reached for the car stereo, blasting classical music to drown out her thoughts. When the thoughts continued, she hummed a different tune. She even covered her ears, but nothing worked. They seemed to get louder.

  Go buy yourself a drink. Drown your fears until you pass out. That’ll feel so much better than talking about your father.

  For several minutes Diane debated driving to the liquor store. In the end, common sense won out and she drove home. She had to go to work in the morning. If she showed up hung over, she’d face questions, and gossip would spread. And that was the last thing she needed now.

  * * *

  Dave almost shouted into his cell phone as he paced across his living room. “No, Pastor Lane! I’m not kidding! She looked at me as if I was a freaking nut case when I told her I didn’t intend to decorate for Christmas this year and that I wasn’t planning to teach Joey about Santa Claus. Oh, and get this.” His voice was rising in pitch, so he took a slow breath and forced himself to relax.

  “I’m listening.”

  Dave sat in a chair, fighting tears. “When I mentioned that I wanted Joey to learn the true meaning of Christmas—about the birth of Christ and all—she looked at me like I was a religious fanatic and would somehow corrupt Joey because of my beliefs.”

  He could hear Pastor Lane exhale. “That’s not good. Why aren’t you decorating this year?”

  “It’s just so hard right now—celebrating the holidays alone, without my wife, you know? It’ll be the first Christmas for Joey and me since Merilee passed away that I won't be walking around in a fog. Last Christmas was too soon after her death and Joey was so young he didn't know the difference. I don’t have an issue with Santa Claus. I just don’t plan to focus on him and detract from the birth of Christ and the real meaning of Christmas. You hear what I’m saying?”

  “Sure. I understand.”

  Dave cradled the phone on his shoulder. “To be very honest, I don’t feel like decorating the whole house. Maybe I’ll put up a few lights on the front porch and a small tree, and maybe even a manger scene. Nothing fancy, just enough to show her I’m not a nut case. You think that will work?”

  “It should. Make sure to give Joey all the love you can possibly dish out. He’ll need the emotional closeness this year as much as you do. I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thanks again for your support, Pastor.”

  After offering a prayer, Pastor Lane again assured Dave of his support and the support of the church. When they hung up, Dave rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He rubbed his face and stifled the urge to cry.

  His chest constricted again when he considered losing his son to a total stranger. To an addict. He couldn’t let that happen to Joey.

  He wouldn’t.

  Chapter 9

  Diane had anticipated a boring stay in the hospital with few visitors since her mother had told her she had better things to do than visit her daughter while she recovered from surgery. Yet over the past two days, three m
embers of the Bible study had visited. How weird that total strangers took the time to visit, and yet the people she should have been close to didn’t bother to come by.

  She lay in bed exhausted from visiting with her new friends, yet energized from the attention they had given her. They had shown her more love over the past two days than she had received from any of the women in her life, including her own mother.

  The gifts and cards they brought offered sincere encouragement. Whenever her daddy had given her nice things, he always asked for something in return. Not these ladies. Their kindness intrigued Diane and scared her at the same time.

  She forced her mind to remain calm and think logically about the situation. Maybe her visitors expected her to give them something in return for their kindness, such as her becoming a Christian. It wouldn’t surprise her. If she’d learned anything from her parents, it was that people didn’t give without expecting something in return.

  Though excited about the prospect of leaving the hospital, part of her enjoyed the care and attention she was receiving at Saint Luke’s, even if the food was blah. She didn’t want to be alone this Christmas, but from the way her schedule looked so far, that was exactly what would happen.

  The firm she worked for had sent flowers. Her mother had even sent a get well card, which surprised Diane until she read inside.

  Get well soon. From Mother.

  Nothing original or personal was written inside the cheap-looking card. Diane turned it around and peered at the back. Just as she suspected. It hadn’t even been purchased for her but came from the boxed set she had given her mother back in high school. She knew she should be glad her mother bothered at all, but compared to this she preferred to receive nothing.

  She was picking at her unappealing dinner when she heard a light tap on the door. Her heart began to pound.

  “Come in.”

  Rachel’s strawberry-blonde locks followed her massive belly into the room. She looked ready to burst.

  Rachel rested her hands on her swollen abdomen. “How are you feeling?”

  Diane tried to ignore the pang of envy that shot through her. Rachel didn’t know about Diane’s surgery, so she had no way of knowing how much it hurt her right now to see a pregnant woman.

  Tears filled her eyes. “Better than I thought I’d feel, for sure.”

  “Isn’t it nice having your own private room?” Rachel scanned the peach-colored walls and focused on the painting of a sunset behind the dresser.

  “This is really nice. And look at all the gifts and flowers. You must have a lot of friends.”

  Rachel’s soft voice and warm greeting brought a smile to Diane’s face despite the ache in her chest. “Not really.”

  Rachel eased into the chair beside Diane’s bed. “How are you handling everything?”

  When Rachel’s hand covered hers, Diane glanced up. She wondered how truthfully she should answer. Rachel’s eyes reflected genuine concern, which made her throat tighten until it hurt.

  “You mean, how am I doing physically? Or emotionally?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “Well, physically I feel much stronger than I thought I would. Especially this soon after surgery, but . . . ”

  “But?” Rachel coaxed.

  Diane took a deep breath, and then released it. Why not be blunt? She had nothing to lose.

  “Emotionally I’m a wreck. I’ll never have children of my own. All I’ve ever wanted for as long as I can remember was to have my own baby.”

  “Oh. Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Who will want to marry a woman who can’t bear children?” Diane choked out.

  Rachel sniffled, but didn’t speak. She just held Diane’s hand and let her weep while stroking her knuckles.

  When Diane’s tears subsided, she said, “I’ll be okay. My doctor said it’s natural to feel depressed after an operation, especially a life-altering one like I just had.”

  “I’ll keep praying for you.” Rachel’s lashes shone with unshed tears.

  Diane wanted to be Rachel’s friend, but she didn’t know if she could bear being around a woman about to give birth, knowing that she’d never have that privilege herself. But it wasn’t Rachel’s fault that she had something Diane would never experience. She offered friendship, and Diane desperately needed a friend.

  “Sure. I suppose prayer can’t hurt. I’m just so tired of feeling sad. I need a distraction. Something to keep me occupied while I adjust to this new me. You know what I mean?” Diane nibbled on her lower lip to fend off another round of grief.

  “I think I do, actually. I want to tell you the story about how God gave me my husband. It might encourage you.”

  “Sure, if you think it’ll help. I’m not exactly busy right now.”

  “I was brutally raped a few months before I met Scott. We dated and enjoyed each other’s company as friends, but we never kissed. At the time I was glad because I couldn’t get past what happened to me.”

  “How awful.”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t know the Lord at the time so my choices weren’t the best. I dumped him for another guy who beat me. His name was Chas.”

  “I’ve made some bad choices myself.”

  “I didn’t think I could ever have children because of the damage from the rape. I moved away and returned to the college town where I met Scott. That’s when we found each other again. He was still very hurt that I’d dumped him. I begged him to talk to me. When I had a chance to explain, he forgave me. I couldn’t believe it. I’m still humbled.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Scott.”

  “You seem strong to me even without him.”

  “It’s only because I know the Lord. I really trust Him, and I trust Scott. There is a man somewhere who will want you for who you are as a person. A man who won’t focus on what you look like or whether or not you can have kids. A man who’ll love you just for you.”

  Tears filled Diane’s eyes. She wanted to know how Rachel stayed so strong. She wanted peace like Rachel had.

  “How did you cope when you kissed the first time after . . . you know?”

  “Oh, I felt emotionally screwed up for a while. And very insecure. Especially when I focused on my own pain. Yet the more I hurt, the more I leaned on God for strength. I tried to lean on Scott for a while, but relying solely on a man was about as secure as walking in quicksand. People will let you down, but God never will.”

  “I haven’t thought much about God since I was a child. I prayed a few times back then, but nothing changed. I heard all the religious stuff sitting in church, but it didn’t seem to relate to my life. I guess I don’t have as much faith as you have.”

  “It doesn’t take much faith to believe. Believe me, God can use whatever you give Him, no matter how small. If you ask Him, He will give you the kind of faith you’re longing for.”

  “What if all you have to offer God is tainted?”

  “Jesus holds His hand out to each one of us. You just need to receive His hand and grab hold of Him. He will lift you up. He wants your heart, Diane. It doesn’t matter how bad you think your heart is; He’ll take what you offer Him and make it new. He’ll create something beautiful from your offering, even if it’s lacking.”

  Diane’s lungs constricted. “You make it sound too easy.”

  “That’s because it’s not as hard to know God as people want to believe. You don’t have to climb a flight of concrete steps on your knees or anything like that.”

  In spite of her somber mood, Diane chuckled at the example Rachel gave. Her mirth quickly dissolved into tears, and the ache in her heart magnified the emptiness of her life.

  “I can pray with you now if you want,” Rachel offered. “Just acknowledge that you’re a sinner. Tell God you want Jesus to change your heart and make you a new person so you can stop living in sin and start living for Him.”

  Diane tensed. “I . . . um, that’s asking a
lot right now.”

  “Aren’t you ready to give your heart to Jesus?”

  Rachel’s eyes looked so hopeful. Diane hated to disappoint her new friend, but she wasn’t ready to make that kind of leap of faith yet. It sounded too scary.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready. Or if I’ll ever be.”

  “Oh, Diane. That’s not true. No one is beyond hope.” A flicker of disappointment shone in Rachel’s gaze, but she held her positive smile.

  A lump clogged Diane’s throat. “You can keep praying. It can’t hurt anything.”

  Rachel’s smile instantly brightened. “Good. As long as you think there’s still a chance, then there’s hope. Are you going to return to our women’s group? We’re breaking up for the holidays but plan to start again the week after New Year’s.”

  Diane’s heart fluttered. Rachel hadn’t rejected her when she had declined her invitation. Maybe she didn’t have to please Katia and her friends in order to be accepted. Maybe she’d been wrong.

  “I might, if you’ll still have me.”

  “Sure, we’d love to have you. Do you think the ladies came to visit you because they don’t care? They want you to come back so they can get to know you better.”

  Diane’s neck heated. “I’m surprised they’d still want me after I took off like that. I didn’t exactly make myself friendly.”

  “I think they understood. Many of us have been where you’re at.”

  Humbled, Diane said, “All right, then. I will.”

  Rachel laughed. “You’ll be glad you did. Trust me. God has a plan for your life that is so much bigger than the one you have for yourself.”

  Diane found herself laughing along with Rachel. “Ya think?”

  Rachel stopped laughing and captured her gaze. “I know He does.”

  She looked so convinced that Diane wanted to believe her. Could it be true that God loves me? That He has a plan for my life?

  * * *

  After taking a cab home late the next day, Diane checked the calendar. The date stared back at her: Christmas Eve. She walked to the mailboxes, slid her key into the lock, and opened the door.