Journey 0f Hope (Journey 0f Love Book 2) Page 3

  Thinking about Elly once more, I felt my stomach knot.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern riddling his voice as he must’ve seen something amiss with me.

  “I need to go say ‘bye to the kids and get up to the hospital.” Coming in close, I gazed into his eyes and he into mine. For a moment, I was able to not feel the pain of it all. Looking into his eyes, I could see the faint reminder of how things were before Elly got sick.

  Leaning in, I kissed him on the lips. “I know things aren’t perfect or right between us right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you. I really do.”

  A genuine smile curled on his lips as he looked at me with longing in his eyes. “I love you too.”

  Turning around, I went inside to say ‘bye to the kids. Venturing into the living room, I found the kids playing Candy Land with my parents. Bending at the knees, I called out to them. “Mommy has to go back up to the hospital to be with Sissy. Come give me some love.”

  Ester began to whine and Easton cried, and my heart broke.

  “Please don’t cry, my babies. Soon, Sissy will be home and everything will be back to normal.”

  Ester buttoned her frown and came over. She hugged me, but not without a measure of reluctance.

  “I don’t want you to go, Mommy. Stay home with me. I miss you. I need you too.”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I fought back the tears. “I’ve gotta be there for Sissy right now. I love you very much, and I’ll be back soon.”

  Mark scooped the still crying Easton up into his arms and began to rub his back.

  “We’ll have ice cream later after I get back from my meeting, bud. I promise.”

  Easton finally calmed some, and Mark brought him over to me as I stood up. Leaning toward me with Easton, he said, “Kiss Mama.”

  Leaning away from Mark, Easton planted a kiss on my lips.

  “Thank you.”

  About to leave, I remembered my dad’s yearly check-up was yesterday. He was sitting on the couch near the window reading a classic car magazine.

  “How’d the yearly check-up go?”

  It had been a little over a year since his open-heart surgery.

  Lowering his magazine, he smiled. “Doctor says I’m healthy as a bull.”

  What felt like a blanket of security settled across a deep part of my soul hearing he had a good report. He didn’t seem excited. “That’s great, Dad! I thought you’d be a little more eager to share something like that!”

  “It is what is, daughter.”

  “All right. I’d better get going. I love you all.”

  I left the living room and walked out the front door, shutting it behind me. I heard Easton start to cry and it felt as if my soul was tearing itself in half. It killed me to visit home, even for a short while, like I had done today. Each visit seemed to end with Easton, Ester, and myself in tears. The weight of my sadness sagged on my shoulders as I made it out to my car. Getting into my seat, I buckled my seatbelt and then started to cry. Laying my face on the steering wheel, I questioned God. How could this be Your will, God?

  Chapter 8-Bethany

  NODDING OFF AND ON AS I sat in the recliner after reading a few chapters of my novel later that evening, I was just about asleep when someone entered the hospital room. Opening an eye to see who it was, I jumped when my gaze fell upon my sister, Grace. Setting my book down beside the recliner, I stood up.

  With two coffees in hand, she met me at the end of the bed. She handed me one of the drinks.

  “Thought you might want a pick-me-up. I know you’re up for coffee at any time of the day.”

  That was true, but I felt bad she’d come to the hospital. I shook my head as I took the coffee. “You didn’t have to come down.”

  Touching my arm, she smiled. “You’re my big sis. I want to be here for you.”

  It was sweet of her to show up, but I had a sneaking suspicion. “Mom sent you. Right?”

  She laughed. “How’d you know?”

  I shrugged and took a drink of my coffee. “I know Mom. How’s Owen doing with the renovation on the lake house?”

  She took a sip of her cup. “Slow, but good. He thinks he might get it done by next summer, not this coming one. So sad. Means another year until we can finally get married.”

  “Why are you guys so obsessed with being married at that place? Why not tie the knot somewhere else?”

  “It’s where we met, Beth. It’s special to us. Oh! Guess who I heard from?”

  “Hmm . . . Jenny? She’s in Brazil right now, right? On that missionary trip?”

  “Yes, she is, but no. Not her. James!” Our brother, James, had been struggling with drugs and being in a wrong place with God for years now. It had all started when he began dating Heather, and there for a while last year, we were under the impression he was doing better, but he fell away once more. He went back to the drug world after our dad had his heart operated on to replace a valve. Grace believes he just couldn’t take the stress of it all and went back to what was comfortable. I, on the other hand, saw him not truly ready for sobriety.

  “Did he break up with Heather?”

  “No, no. Not that . . . sadly. But it is good news. He flew down to California and went to rehab. I think this is it, Sis. He’s going to get clean and everything is going to be okay.”

  I couldn’t dash the hope I saw in her eyes with how I truly felt. Drugs were addictive and rehab almost always led to a relapse. Instead of being mean about it, I opted for a gentler approach. “I hope it works out for him.”

  “C’mon. He’s our brother. You want him to get better. Right?”

  Anger, not at my sister but at James, surfaced to the tip of my heart and mind. “Sure, I want him to get better, but what he did was purely self-inflicted harm. My poor, innocent girl didn’t do anything to herself and has to deal with her life being on the line. His selfishness is frustrating and infuriating sometimes. It’s not fair, Grace.”

  Grace began to tear up.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I do want him better. I just . . . I just get so upset when I think about it. I know it’s selfish of me and I know it’s wrong, but it makes me so mad how he acts!”

  She nodded. “It isn’t fair, you’re right. But God never says in the Bible that life is fair. He says you will have trouble. Anyway, I have to go.”

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  She smiled and then backed away. She turned and headed for the doorway but stopped and looked into my eyes.

  “Beth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m praying for you.”

  With that, she left and I journeyed over to my recliner and sat down, letting out a deep sigh. Regret for what I had said to my sister welled up inside me like floodwaters. These feelings, while true, were misplaced and not Godly. She was right about God’s Word not promising a perfect life. I knew that. But I realized that deep down, some part of me figured I was winning favor with Him by taking my family to church every Sunday and living a Godly life. It was absurd, but there had to be some inkling of that going on inside me in order for me to not think that what was going on with Elly wasn’t fair.

  Remembering the change I had seen earlier in my husband, I realized God was the only way things were going to get better in my life. I knew it, Mark knew it, and God knew it. Taking a deep breath, I bowed my head and prayed.

  “God, please forgive me. I know the only good I have is You. Help me to not be so selfish. I know I haven’t been the most faithful Christian lately, but I love You and I know I need You. I just don’t know how to make You a priority. I don’t know how not to be consumed with grief and pain and hurt over Elly. Help me.”

  Chapter 9-Mark

  THE FOURTH ALARM CLOCK I set the night prior on my cell phone rang like that of a blow horn. It screamed at me to wake up, to get my feet to the floor and my eyes to the Bible. I had realized last night that waking up at five o’clock in the morning was the only way I’d
be able to squeeze in the entire hour of Bible reading that the pastor had recommended. While I was eager and excited to set the alarms last night, when it actually came to waking that early . . . I struggled.

  As the alarm blared, before I even so much as touched my phone, I sat up in my bed and threw my legs over the edge. Then, with one eye open, I reached for the phone and silenced the intruding annoyance. It hurt to be up this early. Letting out a pained sigh, I rubbed the back of my neck and stared at the little red lights on my phone telling me it was now 5:04AM. I hadn’t been up at this time since Bethany had given birth to Easton and we had to whisk her off the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. When that happened, I had enough adrenaline and excitement coursing through me that I leapt out of bed.

  Finally out of the blankets, I traveled down the hallway. Each step, I used the wall for guidance as my eyes weren’t quite open all the way. I made a pit stop in the bathroom and then went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. As the coffee percolated on the counter next to the stove, I went over to the kitchen table and sat down.

  Yawning, I pulled my Bible out from beside the napkin holder and opened it up to the book of Galatians. I began to read, starting in chapter one. By the time I finished the chapter and was partially into chapter two, the coffee beeped. It was done brewing.

  Getting up from the table, I walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a mug. Glancing at the stove clock, I saw only ten minutes had gone by. Raising an eyebrow, I thought to myself, so when I read a chapter here or there, it’s only a few minutes? The thought was convicting to realize how little Bible reading I had done in all my years of being a Christian. Pouring my cup of coffee, I took it back over to the table and continued with my reading.

  In my reading of Galatians chapter two, I came across a familiar passage, but reading it today, at this time in my life, it jumped out at me.

  I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.

  The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

  Galatians 2:20

  The verse flicked my heart like a bee’s stinger suddenly puncturing the surface of the skin. It cut through all the layers of my recent selfishness and burned with truth of my current situation with Bethany. The struggle, the difficulty we were experiencing in our marriage. We weren’t having difficulty because of Bethany’s choices, like I thought. But because of my selfishness, at least to some degree. Conviction weighed upon me as I realized I wasn’t crucifying myself with Christ each day. I wasn’t living my life by faith like the verse spelled out so clearly. Instead, I was too wrapped up in how I was feeling, how I was doing, and how I was at the end of myself. A divine thought surfaced. Maybe the end of myself was right where the Lord needed me?

  With watering eyes and a heavy heart, I bowed my head and folded my hands in front of me on the table. With the sun still not up, and in the coolness of the morning breeze that filled the house, I prayed.

  “God, I am so sorry for the way I have been to my wife, to my children, and to You. Help shape my heart and help me to crucify my selfishness every single day. Help me to walk by faith in Your Son, Jesus Christ. Thank You for giving Yourself up for me on Calvary’s cross. I love you, Lord. Help me to be a better husband, a better dad, and a better follower of You.”

  As I lifted my eyes, the knot in my chest started to loosen. Scooting up closer in my seat to the table, I took a big swig of coffee and continued reading.

  Chapter 10-Bethany

  TAKING MY BAGEL AND COFFEE up to the register in the hospital’s cafeteria, I noticed that Maria, the one who was always there in the mornings and beaming with a smile, looked upset. It was a bit unnerving as I had become accustomed to her cheerfulness, even looked forward to it.

  “Good morning, Beth.” Maria’s words were somber, heavy-laden with an unknown grief. She was a Hispanic lady and I had found out through our little conversations in the mornings that she and her husband, along with their three little ones, had recently moved to Spokane directly from Mexico late last year. They were in the process of getting their citizenship.

  “Hey, Maria. You okay? You seem upset.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing that the Lord can’t fix. I’m just struggling today is all. We might have to go back to Mexico.”

  My heart broke for her and her family. I knew she had a fondness for America and a special appreciation that I hadn’t known in a person. “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry! I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thank you. Hey. I try getting those breakfast burritos back you like, but my boss say, ‘no!’ ” She shrugged as she took my five dollars for my coffee and bagel. “Maybe they change their mind. I don’t know. Anyway. Tell me. How is Elly?”

  “I guess we’ll see if they bring them back. Elly’s doing okay.”

  “Mmm. You keep praying and I will pray too for her. Even if I go back to Mexico, I pray for you and for Elly.”

  People like Maria served as a reminder to me that God was indeed working in and through this difficult time with my daughter. She was a light in this time of darkness. I only needed to remind myself of people like Maria, to keep them in my thoughts instead of my problems.

  “Thank you, Maria.”

  Taking my change from the transaction, I put it into my purse. Then I took my bagel and coffee and headed down the hallway to the bank of elevators. As I waited for the elevator to arrive to the main level, I took a bite of my bagel and thought over the day ahead. I’d probably spend a lot of time reading more of my novel. Probably have a few chats with nurses, and I think her doctor, Dr. Brooks, would be stopping in today.

  Ding.

  The doors of the elevator opened and I stepped inside. I turned around.

  Then I saw Christopher, my ex-husband and Elly’s biological father.

  My mouth gaped open and my bagel fell from my lips.

  My pulse raced as I watched him hurry his steps toward my elevator. I froze in place and let the doors shut on his face. Bending over, I picked my breakfast up, thoughts swirling in my mind like the last bit of water going down the drain. He came. After all that has happened, he actually showed up! I could hardly believe that he not only heard the voicemail I left on his phone a month ago, but that he ended up coming all the way out to Washington from Los Angeles. He had moved to Los Angeles right after we divorced years ago, and we hadn’t heard from him outside of birthday cards and the occasional phone call around the holidays.

  Now he was here.

  Reaching Elly’s floor, I stumbled out of the elevator and set my purse down on the nearby nurse’s station as I tried to let my pulse settle. I gotta call Mark. Fumbling through my purse with trembling fingers, I pulled out my cellphone and called my husband.

  “Mark.” My voice was laced with panic, trembling with uncertainty.

  “What’s wrong, Beth?”

  “He’s here!”

  “Who?”

  “Elly’s dad! Christopher is at the hospital!”

  “Wow.” He sounded dumbfounded.

  “Yeah.” I immediately felt a little calmer just telling Mark. Then I spotted Christopher speaking with the head nurse over near Elly’s room. How’d he get up here so quickly? A knot formed in my chest as I thought about his going into her room. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  Hanging up, I shoved the phone back into my purse and quickly headed toward the nurses’ station.

  “Christopher!” I called out on my way over.

  “Bethany,” he said, his tone slightly reserved. He sounded a bit perturbed. I suspected that had something to do with the fact that I didn’t hold the elevator for him.

  As I came to the nurses’ station, Judy raised her eyebrows toward me. “You know this man? He’s claiming to be Elly’s father, but from what I understood, Mark is the father.”

  “Mark’s technically the stepfather, Judy. This is her biological father from L.A.”

  “Oh,
the biological father from L.A. Okay.”

  Judy left us, and I turned my attention fully to Christopher.

  He spoke before I could. “I came as soon as I got home from tour and heard the message. Can I go in and see her?” He looked toward her room and even took a step that direction, but I grabbed his arm, jerking him back to me.

  “Wait.” My heart pounded so hard now that I could barely hear myself think, let alone form a cohesive sentence. I wanted to punch him in the face and scream over the fact that he’d waited so long to come visit. I had told him about her last year when she was diagnosed, and did he visit? Not once.

  “What? I want to see my daughter, Bethany. You can’t stop me.”

  Taking a deep breath, I sent up a quick prayer asking God to help me not kill this man.

  “Wait.” He stopped and turned to me as I continued. “What about all the other messages, Christopher? I called you several times since she became sick a year ago. The year you find out your daughter is sick, you skip sending her a birthday card? Who does that?”

  “I know,” he replied, pushing his hair back with a hand. “I was just busy and thought we had more time. You know? I know how you can get overprotective about her, and I just thought it wasn’t that serious.”

  “Liver failure not that serious?” My anger waxed hot as I recounted how much pain she had been through at the stroke of her father’s hand over the years. Tears welling in my eyes, I shook my head. “You put our little girl through an emotional wringer since you left us all those years ago. You found out she was sick and never even so much as called? Do you not understand the impact your choices have on her? I lived through a nightmare growing up with my dad never around, and I didn’t want that for her. She has a great dad in Mark, the dad you never could be. He loves her and is here for her through the good times and the bad.”

  The truth hurt and I could see it in his face. The truth that Mark was a great father compared to Christopher. Elly had only seen her real father in a few old photographs and maybe a half-dozen visits. She didn’t need a dad who only cared when it was a big deal. She needed someone who cared always.