|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
Finding Faith December 3, 2007 By Martha Jaynes
The boy stands at the top of the sand dune. From his perspective the row of summer houses below look like doll houses. If he raises his eyes slightly he can look out over Lake Michigan and see far into the distance. He stands motionless, listening to the stillness. His moment is interrupted by the cry of a sea gull. The bird is high above him floating on the currents of the lake breezes. He envies the gull and its freedom. He longs to soar far above the world. He longs to be the envy of others trapped in a world below. He longs to fly far away and never return. The father rubs his tired eyes and tries to focus once again. The task is impossible. Work will have to wait. He logs out and switches off his laptop. Tomorrow is another day. But he knows the same struggle will await him. He stands up, grabs his jacket and heads for the door. At least he will beat the usual rush hour traffic. He puts his cell phone to his ear then stops. He flips it shut. No one will miss him for hours. He can do whatever he pleases. Somewhere in this city is a quiet little bar where everybody knows his name. She looks out through her kitchen window. The pine trees on the side of the hill intrigue her. They seem to grow in spite of all obstacles. Precariously perched and looking like they will fall at any moment. They continue their existence against the odds. I can do this, she thinks. I can go on. Another wave of nausea hits. Her stomach wretches and she runs for the bathroom. The boy opens the door and steps quietly into the entrance way. He is later than he had planned and he wants to avoid the confrontation. He can smell the aroma of an expertly cooked meal. His hunger reminds him that he has been gone way too long. He makes his way to the kitchen. He makes sure to look downward. Look sad, she will be less likely to be angry. He steps quietly into the kitchen. He walks to the bar. “One more please.” “Pastor Smith, are you sure?” The girl behind counter inquires. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough just give me one more please.” He grumbles. “Alright but if you can’t sleep tonight don’t blame me.” He returns to his seat by the window and looks out at the now dark city. I have been in this coffee house way too long he thinks. I need to go home. He leaves his untouched cup and heads out the door. She looks up just in time to see him come through the door. “Don’t play innocent with me. You’re late and you know it.” She fakes the anger. “Sorry mom.” He hangs his head in shame. A smile plays at the corners of her mouth. His false contriteness is comical to see. “Sit down and eat before it gets any colder.” He sits and begins to eat immediately. “Slow down mister, we haven’t said grace yet.” She reminds him softly. His apology is slurred and garbled from the half eaten food in his mouth. She removes his cap and ruffles his hair. Her hand poses for a moment longer on his head. She bites her lip and blinks away a tear. Never let them see you cry. She smiles as she remembers the childhood motto. It was serious business then. Breaking into the boy’s clubhouse and taking the Charlie Horse punch punishment to the thigh. She and Sherri were indestructible and inseparable then. Their mantra of strength was never let them see you cry. She wondered where Sherri was now and if life ever made her cry. “Mom?” He speaks gently so not to disturb her. She is brought back to the real world by the sound of his voice. She realizes her hand is still on his head. She removes it. She focuses on the ceiling fan as she regains her composure. “Mom?” “Yes my darling, sweet, cherubic boy. Sunshine of my existence, center of my joy, light in my darkest hour, the reason I live, most wonder………” Joking with him helps her ease the pain. “MOM!” He smiles and they share a giggle. She takes her seat beside him. The meal time prayer is spoken hastily. “What do you want?” She looks at him intently “Where is dad?” “Working, I suppose. He left here to go to the office for a few hours. But I thought he would be home by now. Someone probably had a crisis of faith, like which color car is more godly.” She smiles at the familiar joke the family shares. “Do you say Aaa-men or Ahh-men” He chimes in. “Is it proper to sneeze during altar call?” She asks in a dramatic fashion. They take turns volleying back and forth, the top ten reasons the pastor is late for dinner again. “And the number one reason the pastor is late again!” His voice calls out from the entry way. Three voices chorus together as the man of the house enters the kitchen. “Will my dog go to heaven, if he is in love with the neighbor’s cat?” They laugh together as he takes a seat at the head of the table. “Sorry to disappoint you folks, but I was at the bar again.” “Now that is a spiritual crisis, Pastor. What do I do if my husband loves Java Joe’s more than me?” “Cover yourself in coffee grounds my dear!” He says waving his fake cigar. “Your Groucho impression is as bad as your advice,” She quips. “Pass the peas please and keep your opinions to yourself.” His eyebrows twitch up and down as he winks at her playfully. The meal continues with the usual conversations about the day and its happenings. They each try too hard to ignore the pain that is waiting grasp their attention. Finally the question is asked. “Mom what are you going to do?” The boy inquires. There is silence for a moment. She places her fork on her plate and wipes her mouth as she chooses her words carefully. “There is nothing to do. I just have to leave this in God’s hands. If I take the chemo, it will kill the baby.” “But if you don’t the cancer will kill you!” He explodes. “Honey your daddy and I have prayed and talked about this for over a week now. Our decision is final. We will leave this up to God to decide. He is in control, not us.” “And I just have to live with it! Is that what you’re saying?” The emotion is evident in his voice. “Honey we all just have to live with it. I can’t change what has happened. I can’t predict the future. But I can know that the same God who gave me the miracle of life when I thought it could never happen again, still holds my times in His hand. His thoughts are never far from us. His will is done, with or without my blessing. That is hard for you to understand, I know, but sooner or later you will see that even though life is hard. God is good,” She says calmly but firmly. The boy stands up and looks at his parents. He can’t imagine how they could ever believe so strongly in a God that could be so callous. He shakes his head and leaves the room without a word. He stands on the landing between floors. If he looks over the rail he can see the seemingly endless circle of downward spirals. He is ten floors up and he likes the spinning feeling he gets if he stretches out over the rail. If he fell from here it would be all over. But he wonders if he would feel anything when he hit. Would the second of pain be unbearable? He is not thinking of jumping. He just likes to wonder. She lies quietly on the bed. She is exhausted. The drugs are having their desired effect and she is falling in and out of sleep. She can hear the voices of her parents and her husband. They are discussing the doctor’s words. She can’t focus enough on what they are saying to make sense of it. She can hear the word cancer and she knows they are talking about her. But what are they saying? Why can’t she understand them? Where is her son? Does she have a son? Sleep takes back over and she drifts off to another time and place. He stands next to her bed and listens to her shallow breathing. This has been one long day. He looks around the room at all the high tech gadgets. He resists the urge to play with the buttons. He wonders what would happen if he pressed just one. He can hear the sounds of the nurses and doctors outside the door. He remembers his son is waiting for him somewhere in the hospital and he stands to go and find him. The door to the stairwell opens and a voice calls out a name. The voice and the name are familiar but he doesn’t want to answer just yet. He wants to know what happened but he doesn’t want to know just yet. He can wait another moment for bad news. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere. Didn’t you hear me calling?” “Yeah, but I didn’t want to hear what you had to say.” The boy mumbles. “Why?” “Because you would say that God is good, and I have a healthy baby sister.” “Yes and..” “And then you say that the doctors are right and mom is going to die soon.” He can barely speak the words. “But what if I didn’t say that?” The father asks placing a loving hand on his shoulder. “What do you mean?” He looks confused. “What if I said that God is great and the doctors were confounded? What if I said that your mom’s faith was big enough to move a mountain that neither you nor I could believe would be moved?” “Are you saying that we got a miracle?” He begins to almost jump. “I’m saying that mom is not out the woods yet but the tumor they thought was malignant turned out to be benign. And even though she will have a long road to recovery she will live.” “And the baby?” “Your sister is as strong as an ox. She is sleeping quietly in ICU, but only as a precaution.” “Can I see them?” “You can see your mom now and your sister later. But at the moment I think there is someone else we both need to talk to.” “Can we do that with mom?” “Yeah, we can, but she is not really doing much more than sleeping at the moment.” The boy kneels on the cold floor of a hospital room. His voice falters as he begins a prayer of thanksgiving. His father’s hand rests upon his shoulders and his mother’s breathing is a comfort to his ears. The tears roll down his cheek. And he thinks of that day on the sand dune. He remembers the gull in the sky. He knows now that he is like that gull and like the sparrow. He understands what it means to place your trust in a God that does not let the smallest sparrow fall to the ground without notice. He no longer wishes to fly far away. He wants to breathe in every moment of every day. He wants have the faith of his mother. A faith like the seed of mustard that does not waiver or mix with doubt, but stands strong and true no matter what may come.
ninetyandnine.com
© 2007, Martha J Jaynes
-------
Martha J Jaynes is a Retail Manager in the Kansas City area. Her nest is almost empty and her fledglings are learning what life is like in institutions of higher learning. She is looking forward to finding out who that familiar face at the head of the table is.
|
|
|
