On Saturday night, Lynne and Eric once again read through the baptismal service in the Lutheran Service Book. Jane was asleep and while normally parents used that time for cuddles, both Snyders wanted to refresh themselves with tomorrow’s events. Baptism wasn’t akin to marriage, although Lynne felt that she was preparing herself for a further-reaching relationship. Then she looked at Eric, who was silently reading, but still moving his lips. She wanted to caress his face, but didn’t wish to break his concentration. The creases along his eyes were similar to when he was deep into a painting, but another level of attentiveness was being plumbed. A warm surge rushed through Lynne’s heart for she understood that awareness, and quickly she said a brief prayer, thanking God that she and her husband were together on this.
She had wanted to worship alongside Eric and once he announced his doubts with Catholicism, she was briefly pained, for that faith had brokered her into a new world. It was far more binding than motherhood or marriage, and with so much to learn. Jane’s bout with colic had introduced to a new mother another side of her beloved baby and Lynne had felt similarly when Eric first told her about turning into a hawk. She had resigned herself to those transformations, but even a life steeped in that uncertainty didn’t relate to belief in an unseen, triune God who saved souls after normal lifespans ceased. The afterlife didn’t frighten Lynne, but it made her cautious of exactly what was she committing herself to.
The couple reclined in bed, dressed in pajamas, and had been sharing the one service book. Pastor Jagucki had offered them each one, but Lynne had thought a single copy was enough, and in the morning they would return the loaner to St. Matthew’s. It was merely to familiarize themselves with the order of service, which actually was for an infant baptism. They knew the questions their pastor would ask, the same ones he had posed to their daughter, answered on her behalf by Renee and Sam. Those sponsors would be present tomorrow, but Lynne and Eric would speak of their own accord, agreeing to queries handed down for hundreds of years by people equally minded that life was more than what could be witnessed within this corporeal realm. Perhaps it wasn’t at all strange that Lynne and Eric had come to faith, for Eric’s existence was proof that the impossible was indeed attainable.
Lynne’s parents hadn’t actively shunned the idea of God, but they’d simply had no interest in exploring that possibility. What would they make of her decision now, she wondered, but then, how in the world would she have explained Eric? Human beings did not turn into animals, it simply wasn’t possible. Yet, her husband did, or he had; daily Lynne prayed that Eric’s transformation last December was the final one. But she wouldn’t be surprised if he altered again, although she wasn’t sure what would be the impetus. His father was dead, Seth was better. To whom else might Eric need to minister?
As Eric turned the page, Lynne studied his furrowed brow, those wide gray eyes, his lips still moving in a rapid hush; he was in another place, but it wasn’t to do with art or nature. It was a solitary spot where she often found herself when Jane was still and Eric was busy. Then Lynne could close her eyes, fold her hands, and without fanfare find herself no longer alone. Yet, she was sitting without being distracted, no pie to bake or yarn to knit or weeds to pull. In those contemplative moments, Lynne aligned her soul to a force that was stronger than the love she had for Eric or Jane, a pull that previously Lynne hadn’t realized existed. She adored her husband and their daughter, human emotions tying her to them in ways that were still being fostered. Lynne loved Eric more now that he was a father, but it didn’t compare to the sense she found while in meditation with God. Had nursing Eric last December been a part of that, having to trust solely on an entity she couldn’t see or hear? Yet, Lynne knew as intimately as breathing that her role was to care for Eric, not relinquish him to medical authorities. Sam had understood immediately, Renee had taken longer. Eric had never questioned Lynne’s decision; he’d known just as strongly that whether he lived or died wasn’t up to doctors or treatments. It was all on one woman’s faith and one God’s choice.
That weekend had crystalized Lynne’s decision to become a Christian, although at the time, the denomination was still in flux. But whether they were Catholic or Lutheran or any other denomination mattered little, for those qualifiers were swept aside in the bigger picture. Lynne didn’t feel any less close to Renee, in fact, she felt even more bound to her, for the Aherns were going to adopt a child. Lynne blinked away tears, for the joy in her heart over that decision was nearly akin to being baptized. Parenthood was a sacrament of sorts, Lynne felt, then she smiled at herself for such an antiquated idea. Or a Catholic thought, but to a woman who for years had agonized over not being able to conceive, Renee and Sam’s impending parental status was worth a few tears. It was worth many, for while Renee had shared in Jane’s birth, even realizing how it felt to be pregnant, those were fleeting moments. Motherhood on a daily basis had brought Lynne Snyder to completion.
But then so had marrying Eric, and so would tomorrow’s ceremony. Was life fulfilled by one vocation, or did it require more than a single inclination? As Eric closed the service book, setting it on the mattress, Lynne didn’t immediately speak, but she wanted his opinion. Art was a consuming passion, but it wasn’t her husband’s only outlet.
Eric smiled at her, making Lynne’s cheeks flush. They hadn’t made love that morning, for Jane had woke early, and throughout the day no time had emerged to sneak into their bedroom and revel in that intimacy. No longer could they simply tumble into bed; Lynne had to insert her diaphragm, which didn’t take long, but was a small hindrance. Lynne wasn’t yet ready to think about getting pregnant again, but when that time came, she’d be happy to resume the spontaneous nature of their previous affections, although Jane would curtail some of it. But she was still so little, nursing every few hours, and Lynne coveted those sessions, for she had never expected to experience such moments. Renee and Sam wanted to adopt an older child and that would most likely be best. But Lynne thanked God for having been presented the opportunity to give birth. She had relished it even when Jane had been so miserable.
“What’re you thinking?” Eric asked, stroking her face. “You look a million miles away.”
“I’m not, you know.” Lynne giggled, then nestled against him. “Actually, I wanna be very close to you.”
He groaned in desire as she maneuvered herself on top of him. They necked for several minutes, then Eric removed her pajama top. Lynne still wore her nursing bra, but she lay on his bare chest, the feel of their mostly naked skin an added pleasure. Then Lynne broke the kiss, but didn’t move away from her husband. “There’re so many ways to achieve ecstasy,” she smiled.
“This’s a very good one.” Eric’s voice was hoarse. “Why don’t you go….”
She nodded, but didn’t move.
They kissed again, only their pajama pants precluding further activity. Eric moaned from the pressure, but Lynne didn’t stop until he pulled away from her mouth. “Oh God, you win,” he gasped. “What, you wanna make a baby?”
She giggled, then sat up. “I really love you.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Eric smiled, caressing her hips. “Lynne, do you wanna try again already?”
She shook her head. “I just wanted you to know how I feel about you.”
He had a husky laugh. “Believe me I know. If I know any more….”
She wore a saucy smile, then got off of him. Lynne went into their bathroom, giggling as she partially closed the door.
An hour later, she was nursing Jane, who had stirred just as her parents lay spent. Eric had fetched the baby as Lynne adjusted her bra, and now Lynne felt no other physical release was necessary. She was tucked into Eric’s grasp, their child happy at her breast, and it was then Lynne began to speak. “I was watching you, reading the service. You were lost in it like you were painting something so captivating.”
“Mmmhmmm. Lynne, I am so excited for tomorrow.”
“Tell me.”
He had a lang
uid sigh. “I was thinking about December, when I came home. I could barely think, other than whatever happened, I was gonna be all right. And it was strange, because it wasn’t like when I’d come back the year before. Then I had no idea if I was gonna be human again, or some half-bird, half-man. Now when I look back on that, I wonder how much of that week was for Sam. Maybe most of it, I can’t rightly say. But last Christmas honey, that was for us.”
“I agree.”
“Do you think of it, I mean….”
“I was while you were studying. Never in my life had I given myself up to, to….” Lynne paused, staring at her daughter’s busy jaw, those blue eyes occasionally seeking a mother’s gaze. Every time Jane made eye contact, Lynne wondered how she had lived without that sort of rapport. And that relationship was solely due to Eric’s long absence and his traumatic alteration. Then a year later, she had been transformed, for in that weekend, Lynne learned without a doubt the proof of God, no way to dismiss the feelings coursing through her, only asking for her faith. The outcome could have been disastrous; Eric could have easily succumbed to that raging fever. If he had died…. Then Lynne began to softly weep, for the surrounding blessings told her she had done the right thing. The right thing had been to ignore conventional wisdom and to embrace the unthinkable. She had refused to admit her deathly ill husband to the hospital, instead relying on the most ethereal yet powerful personal sense she had ever encountered. Not even falling in love with Eric had infused Lynne with such hope.
But it wasn’t hope alone; perseverance was bound to absolute optimism. Lynne understood Abraham’s choice to follow God’s command to sacrifice his son Isaac, for that was what she had been asked to do. She hadn’t said that to Renee or Sam, she hadn’t been asked by Pastor Jagucki why becoming a Lutheran was so important, but if anyone inquired, Lynne wouldn’t hesitate. God had set upon her heart to let him heal Eric. She had acquiesced to that appeal, fully aware of how sick her husband was. There had been no other choice possible; all that Lynne had been considering about faith was put to the most intense test by that one plea.
Perhaps God had been more forceful with Abraham. That man was, by God’s design, the father of many nations. Lynne was merely one woman, so God’s entreaty hadn’t been overwhelming. Yet the gravity had been the same, the loss of one most beloved. For years Lynne and Eric had lived solely for one another. To lose him would have been as devastating to her as Isaac’s death to a very old man who had been promised as the father of numerous descendants. That aged man had trudged up that mountain, fully aware that what God was asking was in direct contrast to what that same God had promised. But faith was more important than the promise, for if God said such and such would occur, Abraham believed that somehow, some way, it would come to pass. And now months later, the culmination of Lynne’s faith rested in her arms, and awaited the morning. She couldn’t wait to reply in ringing affirmation of what Pastor Jagucki would inquire. Lynne ached to announce her belief in an invisible but quite real God who in three parts ruled the universe and had saved her immortal soul. But not only hers, Eric’s too, and Jane’s. Lynne smiled at her now drowsy baby, those blue eyes gently closed, her jaw no longer active. A mother’s nipple sat halfway in Jane’s slack mouth, just as ancient Sarah had once sat with baby Isaac in her arms. Lynne shut her eyes tightly, but tears escaped; that woman had waited until she was ninety years old to bear what God had pledged, and not only to Abraham. Sarah would be the mother of many nations, even if she was a shriveled old woman.
How many children would Lynne and Eric have? Lynne smiled, then leaned against her husband. “I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She had said that to him several times during that December weekend, not because she was afraid of losing him, but to remind him of her presence, and to give thanks for him, and for that trial, although at the time, she might not have realized the need to be grateful for such a test. More she had been awed by the presence of joy, but not merely for Eric’s return. The joy had been borne of the unshakeable awareness of Christ, manifest in his request for trust. Until that point, Lynne hadn’t understood the comfort or reliance upon God that seemed inseparable in how Renee and Sam believed. She had assumed that level had been achieved by their life-long relationships with Jesus, their baptisms as infants. Maybe Sam was blessed by his time in Korea, Renee by her work as a nurse. Yet, it probably had nothing to do with those events. It was a very personal moment, or a gathering of them, during which God made himself known either by a quiet voice, a touch upon one’s soul, or whatever was necessary. In Lynne’s case, it had been the firm but loving tapping on her heart to not take the expected course, but to simply minister to Eric by mopping the sweat from his brow, spooning into him whatever he could swallow, and holding his hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Had she slept during those few days, Lynne wasn’t certain. But when the fever broke early on Christmas Eve morning, his eyes cloudy but affixed on her face, Lynne knew her prayers had been answered, as well as God’s petition for her confidence. At no time during those long, dark hours had she become discouraged. The year before, frustration and loneliness were all she had known. But her life, as well as Eric’s, had been changed during his lengthy absence, and not for the worse. Lynne opened her eyes, setting Jane over her shoulder. Two subdued burps reminded a mother and father that yes, miracles happened, often in the most unlikely manner.
“Is she ready to go back to sleep?” Eric’s tone was soft.
Lynne nodded, scooting forward, so Eric could get out of bed. He stood, taking the baby from Lynne’s grasp. Within a minute, he returned, but didn’t immediately get in beside his wife. “What?” Lynne asked.
Eric stroked her now damp cheek. “I love you. I love her. I love….” He paused, then chuckled. “God. All these blessings are his doing.”
Lynne gripped his hands, bowing her head. But the prayer she said was silent, although she felt Eric’s missives coursing through their entwined fingers. They released each other at the same time, then Eric slid under the covers. Soon they were wrapped close, again making love. No words emerged, but teeming hearts sent many thanks heavenwards.
Chapter 66
The Hawk: Part Four Page 5