I climbed into my car and my cell phone rang. It was my father.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Hey, baby, how are you?”
“Stressed. Aunt Joe is sick. She’s having a bad reaction to the chemo.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been praying for her and you. I know this is hard on you, and you don’t have any help.”
“I’m leaving the hospital now. They admitted her, so I’m going home to get some sleep.”
“That’s good. Where’s Isaiah?”
“He’s staying with a friend overnight.”
“Good, good, good. He doesn’t have to be around, and you don’t have to worry about him. I know it’s got to be hard for him, too.”
“So, what did you need, Daddy?”
“Nothing. I was checking on you all. I hadn’t heard anything from you in a few days.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. Isaiah had a project to do for a social studies fair and then with Aunt Joe, I’ve been doing stuff non-stop.”
“I understand, Baby Girl. I just want you to know I’m here.”
“I’m glad you called. I was wondering if you could do something.”
“Sure.”
“It’s Stephen. He found out some bad news about his ankle yesterday. He called me. He doesn’t sound good. He asked me to pray for him. I think he needs you.”
I could hear the concern in my father’s voice when he said, “He’s been on my mind lately. I’m glad you told me.”
“I’ve never heard him sound so down. I mean, well, he was down when he first got injured, but he hasn’t been like this since.”
“Do you know if he’s home?”
“I think so. I didn’t ask, but I got the sense that he was.”
“Maybe I’ll drive over to New Jersey and see him in person. Dell might be able to come with me. She’s been wanting to get out of town for some shopping.”
I smiled. “When are you and Dell going to get married, Daddy?”
“That’s a good question. I think I put off proposing to Dell because I didn’t want you to come back into my life and I’d taken a new wife. But now that you’re back, I don’t know, I guess it is time.”
“She’s a good woman. She seems to make you happy and I want you to be happy.”
“Her birthday is in a few weeks. I was thinking maybe then.”
“Just do it, Daddy. Propose. Don’t let more time go by. Taking care of Aunt Joe has taught me that tomorrow isn’t promised. Sometimes I forget that lesson.”
“Well, you might want to consider taking that advice yourself.”
“Daddy…”
“I saw the size of those flowers Stephen sent here for Mother’s Day and he hasn’t come to any of my birthday dinners in the past.”
It was just like my father to lobby for him. “Always Team Stephen.”
“Team love,” he said. “You two have overcome too much to not have your destinies tied together. You’ve found a way to not hate each over Isaiah. That young man is still in love with you, Tamar. I told him he could have your hand in marriage. I haven’t taken that permission back.”
I was frustrated and I didn’t try to hide it. “Don’t I matter in the equation?”
“Of course, you do. That’s not what I mean.”
“Well, he’s in no condition to marry anyone right now. Let me know how he is, okay?”
“Will do. Give your aunt my love and hug my grandson for me.”
“I will.”
“And Tamar. Pray on John 11. The sickness will not end in death. I’ll talk to you later, baby.”
Chapter 33
I had to clean up in the Aunt Joe’s bedroom. She had vomited several times in the pail she kept by her bed. Even though I’d emptied it, the room still smelled foul. I opened the window, turned on the fan, and sprinkled baking soda on the carpet. I wiped all the wood down, changed the bedding, and vacuumed. The last thing I did was turn on a diffuser and add lemon essential oil to the water to clear and purify the air.
I spent the evening taking care of myself. I took a hot bath, and then sat the table to eat the salad I had picked up on the way home. Aunt Joe’s reading glasses and magazine were at the setting across from me. I needed to remember to take her glasses just in case she wanted them tomorrow. I picked up the magazine. The story it was open to was, “What Does Cancer Smell Like?” I frowned and began reading. It was about how dogs were being trained to recognize cancer.
I read, “Increased cell proliferation and raised polyamine levels are typical in cancer. What’s more, polyamines actually smell bad. Dogs have been successful in find cancer.”
I closed the magazine. Interesting, but obviously still in the early stages. Decades of research and still no cure. I shook my head. This evil disease destroyed so many lives.
Once I was finished eating, I closed Aunt Joe’s windows and then went to my bedroom and climbed into bed, read a little and fell asleep.
At 2 a.m. I woke up. I tried to get back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I reached for my Bible. I wanted to read Lazarus because both Pastor Kelly and my father had talked about the sickness not ending in death. I turned to the 11th chapter in the Gospel of John and read the entire thing through. I focused on verse 4, When Jesus heard that, He said, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
I prayed, “Aunt Joe’s sickness is not unto death. Jesus, you will be glorified. People will see her healed. She will be well and whole again. People will know that you delivered her from death. In your name, Lord Jesus, I pray, amen.”
I put the Bible on my nightstand and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. Something in the story was calling me to take another look. I picked up the Bible again and read the chapter again. Once I was finished, my eyes fell again on verse 38 –
Then Jesus, again groaning in Himself, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”
Martha, the sister of him who was dead, said to Him, “Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days.”
Jesus said to her, “Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?” Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead man was lying. And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. And I know that You always hear Me, but because of the people who are standing by I said this, that they may believe that You sent Me.” Now when He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Loose him, and let him go.”
By this time there is a stench. This verse stuck with me. I thought about the article I read earlier about the smell of cancer. I went back to the verse: Lord, by this time there is a stench.
I was reminded of that smell in Aunt Joe’s room before I cleaned it. Is that what death smelled liked? A human rotting from the inside out? That’s what the vomit smelled like. It smelled like she was dying inside.
But Jesus brought him back from death. The word said:
And he who had died came out bound hand and foot with graveclothes, and his face was wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Loose him, and let him go.”
What did this mean for Aunt Joe?
That I’d have to continue to care for her after she came back from the brink of death?
It’s not about her.
“Then what’s it about, Lord?” I sighed. I had no idea, nor the brain cells left to figure it out. God would have to reveal it. As my father always said, in His time, God would reveal all.
Chapter 34
Early the next morning, the house phone rang. Aunt Joe still had one, claiming she needed a wired phone in case of a natural disaster. I considered two phone bills on a tight budget to be a natural disaster, but
it wasn’t for me to say. I just answered it when it rang.
“Hello, my name is LaDonna Abrams. I am the principal at North Christian High School and I’m looking for Tamar Johnson.”
“This is Tamar Johnson.”
“Ms. Johnson, I’m so glad I have the right contact information for you. I heard you were residing in town with your aunt. She worked for us during the summer a few years ago. We are all praying for her here at North Christian.”
“Thank you. I’ll let her know.”
“The reason I was calling is I was hoping you would accept invitation from us.”
“An invitation to do what?”
“We need a speaker for our annual life skills program for young women.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“Yes, I’m familiar with your story and then I saw what you did for Melissa Teasley. I thought you’d be the perfect person to speak at our event.”
“Ms. Abrams, I’m not a speaker.”
“None of us are until we open our mouths and as far as I can see, when you open your mouth, it’s quite powerful. Talking a stranger out of suicide is not easy task.” She paused. “Ms. Johnson, let me be completely frank. I’m concerned. We have good girls here, but they are so caught up in social media and some of them have begun to post pictures and share things that they should not and may regret. Perhaps hearing you—”
“I’ll do it,” I said it before I lost the nerve.
Ms. Abrams chuckled. “Wonderful. Oh my. I’m so excited.” I could hear it in her voice. “Let me get your email address. I’ll send you the particulars. I’ll include the honorarium we can offer.”
I hadn’t even considered that I’d be paid. I gave her my email address and then with my hand trembling out of control, I hung up the phone.
I walked over to the desk where I kept my laptop and sat down in front of it. I opened it, pulled up some of my recent writings. I wouldn’t let myself call it a manuscript because I wasn’t going to write my story. But I had begun something, and it had practically leapt out of me onto the page.
“I grew up hearing and chanting the old adage: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. We were taught to believe that, but it’s not true. It’s a false narrative, spun by someone who had no understanding of the frailty of human emotions. Maybe a bully made it up himself. The thing I realize about words is that they have the power to reach into places that sticks and stones never could. Words touch our hearts and minds and spirits. Words can be like a cancer that eats up all the good words about ourselves that we had stored up. Mean words are parasitic. They plant themselves inside their host and grow and grow until there’s no more space for the truth. Sticks and stones bruise. Words burn. Have you ever been burned? It’s a pain that stings. It won’t relent.
Overnight, I went from being a shy teenager, to a publicly humiliated Internet phenomenon because someone clicked a mouse on an icon that said “Upload.” That one click made me, the daughter of a preacher in a small rural church in Pennsylvania, an overnight scandalous figure. My life was destroyed.
I wasn’t just embarrassed. I was ashamed. I wasn’t ashamed a little. I was ashamed deep down in my soul. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from my shame. The video had 2 million hits. That’s nothing you may think today, but 12 years ago, YouTube was a new platform and 2 million hits was about the largest number they had had to date. Nothing had been more viral. The video of me losing my virginity on prom night broke records.
I’ll share all the details about exactly what happened to me, but I want to stop and say, right here and now, I’ve written this book for you. I don’t know you. I will probably never know you. But you are a human being and because words can hurt you, because they can destroy you, I am telling my story.
I released a plume of air. Six months ago, I was living my life as Anne Ferguson, a nonessential features writer at a small magazine. I’d been hiding for twelve years. I thought I’d always be hiding. I lived my life day by day, not even trying to figure out if it was time for me to step out of hiding. Could I have continued that way for the rest of my life?
I think I could have and if I had, I wouldn’t be out of the closet as Isaiah’s mother. I would not be talking to my father. I would not have written this book. I would not be speaking to young women. I would just be a victim, roadkill that no one cared about or even buried. Now, I was becoming someone who had something to say. Someone who might change the course of a young woman’s life.
My phone chirped, and I was reminded that I needed to login to Isaiah’s lunch account and add money. I had bells and whistles dinging on my phone all day that reminded me of the tasks I needed to take care of. Six months ago, I had only been responsible for myself. The only obligation I had in life was to show up at my job.
I tapped the return button to remove the screensaver, logged into the school account and put money on Isaiah’s lunch card. Then I checked my email and found I had two. One from the principal at North Christian and one from my agent. I opened the one from my agent first.
Dear Tamar,
Just wanted to inform you I received a rejection letter from Machette House Publishers. They said they’d just acquired something similar. No worries, I have it out to 4 more editors.
Rejection. That was familiar. The novel I’d written five years ago was rejected by nearly forty publishers. Not a single one gave me a reason. At least with this one, I knew why. I opened the North Christian email. The date for the speech was August 10th. The same date I’d packed my bags and run away from home at eighteen. The name of the program was Becoming: Lessons from Mary and Martha.
I frowned as I thought about the scripture from the other night. I went to my bedroom. My Bible was still open. I remembered how the Holy Spirit had told me the reading wasn’t about Aunt Joe. I didn’t understand. I’d have to pray about it later. No matter what, I knew God was on the job. If it wasn’t about Aunt Joe, I needed to figure out who it was for and what it meant.
Chapter 35
My eyes were locked with Pastor Johnson’s. I wanted to keep my thoughts to myself, but he’d come all this way, so it was time for me to man up and have this conversation with someone other than myself.
“I’ve read scriptures about persecution and sickness. I thought when things got tough, I would come through the refiner’s fire like pure silver, but now I realize the heat is killing me. I’m melting. I ain’t no Job.” Shame seeped from my pores, but I continued.
“And I also realize that some of the problem is that I think I thought those experiences were for someone else. Someone would be sick, someone else would go through. Like I was exempt because I’ve always been good. Like I was the Golden Boy.” I paused. “I thought I was better than all the other guys in the NFL. I got angry because I do what’s right and some of these guys – they sleep with a different woman every night. They’ve got baby mamas in five cities. They do whatever they think they’re big and bad enough to do.”
I was silent for a moment. Heartbroken and mouth dry, I waited to see if Pastor Johnson had a comment. He crossed his hands in front of him on the table and nodded for me to go on.
“I work with kids.” I jabbed my thumb backward at my chest. “I’ve immersed myself in community service my whole career and not for show, but because I love it. I love those kids. I love my life. I love what I stand for. And I couldn’t be protected from this. I might be done playing ball. I have a son that I meet at eleven. I haven’t had sex in four years. Football is the only thing that keeps me sane. Why do you think I run so fast and hit so hard? That’s not about money. That’s about passion. That’s what I do. That’s all I have and now I don’t even have that anymore.”
Pastor Johnson continued to be mute. “And then there’s your daughter. I’ve loved her my whole life, and she doesn’t want me. I’m not enough for her. I don’t even have a woman to love me. I’m starting to think I’ve got a warped sense of who I am.
There’s something wrong with me.”
Tamar’s father raised an eyebrow for a moment. He’d asked me what was on my mind and now he had it. All of it.
“Stephen, you know that trials don’t come to kill us. Even Jesus endured trials.”
“Yeah, he did, pastor, but there’s a difference between Him and me.” I began to talk with my hands. “I’m not God. I’m a man, living better than most of the men I know, so why did this happen to me? Why me? Why couldn’t I be protected? Where is God in this? Where is he for me?”
“Stephen, have you ever considered that God may be trying to use you?” Pastor Johnson’s tone held no nonsense.
“Son, it’s easy to praise Him and talk about His goodness when you’re up. It’s easy to act like the Golden Boy when it’s all good. People aren’t impressed by that. Nobody close to you – and I’m talking your team here – none of them are impressed by the fact that you pray at games and talk about God in your interviews or even that you’ve chosen to be celibate. But I bet you they’re looking at you now. Now that your life is in the valley - your teammates are circling, waiting to see what Stephen Pierce is going to do. Is he going to bless his God or curse him? Can Stephen Pierce still walk through this locker room and around all this equipment with his busted leg and say, ‘God is good. Though he slay me, yet will I trust him’.”
He slapped a palm on the table. “Will you say that? Will you say it with a smile?”
My lip trembled. I was so convicted by his words, I wanted them to stop.
“God is trying to use you to witness, and you’re missing the opportunity for the greatest witness of your life because you’re angry. He needs your praises and your testimony right now. This is a defining hour for you.”
Pastor Johnson paused and let me process his words for a minute, then he crossed his arms over his chest. “And with respect to my daughter. She loves you. She’s dealing with a lot. Coming out of her hiding place has presented new challenges. She’s used to dealing with everything alone. Tamar had become a runner. She knows how to hide. You have to chase her and if you’re not willing to do that, then...”
The Winter Wedding Page 20