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God bless you all! Thanks for reading.
-Kaye Dee Richards

The Other Side

Colin Richards

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies f God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. Romans 12:1 

And after that shall the Levites go in to do the service of the tabernacle of the congregation: and thou shalt cleanse the, and offer them for an offering. For they are wholly given unto me from among the children of Israel. Numbers 8:15-16


There is no sound on earth that can compare for pathos to the desperate cry of a mother to God. As fathers, we love. But there is a divinely imparted connection between mother and child that transcends the male sensibility. There is a possession. For a mother to relinquish a child to the scythe o death means tearing, and ripping, and rending. So it was on one occasion when a mother rolled around in her mind the brooding possibility that her child would succumb. It seemed that God was bent on separating them, so the choice to give away was perhaps easier than for others, but not really. The transaction she entered upon was as binding as any sworn oath before men, and more so for having been made to God. "Lord, if you'll save him, I'll give him to you." It was done, at least on her side, and the rending gave way to healing. The tearing gave way to mending, and God ultimately brought health to a sick little boy, and salvation to a lost little family.

It is one thing to be given and another thing to give yourself. I never knew my mother's arrangement with God until years later, after I made my own transaction. I think that was good, since God was free to do the prodding without interference When I at last gave way, I thought that "surrendering " to serve the Lord with my whole life was the end. The rest would be light on the hills and walks through the woods, and the joys of ministry. But I have come to appreciate, in some small measure, that a living sacrifice is, nonetheless, still a sacrifice. Sacrifices are consumed, and then the only things worth keeping, "the fragrance," ascends to god. There is a giving away, and then a dying, and then the altar, and then there is the fire. all are absolutely necessary for an acceptable presentation to God, and all are completely reasonable. We know the fire is most difficult, but only if the sacrifice has not died first. But the fire, a symbol of the Spirit's consuming presence, is also glorious.

The "living" sacrifice stays on the altar for a lifetime so that its fragrance never stops ascending. The giving away never stops and neither does the dying. The consecrated believer is always consecrating, always presenting, always yielding, and always burning. I think one envisions himself as a "choice servant of God" when he first steps into the sacrificial depths of consecrated living, only to discover that he has now just become "acceptable." But "acceptable" is perfect, because it lets Christ be the only one who is Wonderful. In this daily life of surrender, there is light on the hills, and walking through the woods with the Savior, and the joy of His presence alone.

Did You Practice Today?

by Melissa Stockard

As I was growing up, those words, usually coming from my dad, were frequently heard in our house. We especially dreaded the question if we had neglected our practicing for a more favorable pastime like playing outside with friends. It was not pleasant when Dad found us and sent us inside to finish our practicing. We'd plunk ourselves down at the piano, and the ensuing music would be anything but joyous.

Since both of our parents quit piano lessons when they were children, they vowed that their children would not quite Consequently, my brother, sister, and I were enrolled in piano lessons at a young age, and through the determination of my parents, we stuck with it. I'm very thankful for their determination now. We did not always enjoy the piano, but we had no choice. As we progressed and broadened our musical studies, my parents stressed to us that we were always to use our music to glorify the Lord. I remember going forward in a service when I was a teenager to dedicate my musical abilities to the Lord, Since that time, the Lord has given me many opportunities to minister through music that I would never have had otherwise.

Currently, my siblings and I attend a wonderful Christian university where we are preparing for a lifetime of music ministry. My parents now laugh when they think about how little they expected the children they were forcing to sit at the piano and practice their scales would someday be college music majors. Praise the Lord for parents who persevered and taught us to yield our lives and talents to the Lord!

Ruth Stewart Fajfr was a woman of tremendous strength and vitality. She labored tirelessly in evangelism throughout Eastern Europe alongside her husband, James Stewart. Ruth edited numerous works by her husband about his might ministry of seeing thousands saved and about the wonderful truths of the Holy Spirit yet her biography records her quiet struggle with truths her husband seemed to grasp more easily. In this excerpt, she shares some of her thoughts during a time of spiritual crisis.

I was not long married to James Stewart before I began to manifest a bad reaction to things that upset me and threw me into either a temper or a sulky mood. And to pour oil on the fire, my dear husband would quietly say to me, "Claim the victory, Dear!" That was not the response I had desired from him, and besides, I did not know what he meant by those words. I had never heard them before, but somehow I felt he was saying I should straighten up--without his doing anything about comforting me. (And actually, he was, but it was for my own good and the only answer to my need.) I was not even sure I wanted "the victory." What was there in life if one surrendered his right to himself--his right to feel sorry for himself and to claim all kinds of consideration from others? What was the fun of going about getting victory over hurts and slights and the like without some pampering of the flesh?

I used to sit and listen to James preach about the person and work of the Holy Spirit in the life of a believer, and my heart would long for that freedom in the Spirit which he was enjoying. But another part of me argued, "Yes! And if I were the head of this marriage, I would be carefree too. Just give me the reins for awhile and I would soon be telling him to 'get the victory'--whatever that means."

A couple of months after we were married, we attended a convention where I began to hear messages of personal and practical victory in life by the power of the Holy Spirit. I heard much about the need of being controlled by the Spirit each moment of the day just to "keep sweet." I began to hunger for this life of liberty in the Spirit...But I believe that the very first time I uttered a secret cry to the Lord for the Holy Spirit to work in my life, He began to work. He began to overturn and overturn, and pull the heavy furniture from the walls of my heart and turn up the rugs and open all the doors to my secret closets until I began to see and to be shocked at what I saw. Then I began to abhor what I recognized as the evil intents of my own heart. Really, it was a nest of snakes He turned out of my "inner man."  began to understand why Paul prayed for the Ephesians that they would be "strengthened"--or infused or permeated through and through--by His Spirit in the inner man, in order that Christ might settle down and be at home in their hearts. (Ephesians 3:16-17) It is the Holy Spirit Who prepares the heart for the Lord Jesus to move in and take full control and then, the Spirit does not spare us in the process of preparation. How faithful He is in His work of cleansing and of renewing as He applies to our hearts the death which our Lord wrought for us on Calvary.

*Reprinted from Sheila Stewart Doom, Ready for Anything (Asheville, NC:  Revival Literature, 2003), 93-94.This title and others of help in discovering the joy of the Spirit-filled life are available through the online store of Preach the Word ministries at www.ptwm.org or by calling 800-656-7896.

Eternal Rewards

 A few years ago, I invited two teenage girls over weekly to learn how to cook. The first girl was eager to learn and was a joy to teach. After a few weeks, she presented me with a thank-you note and a twenty-dollar gift card to a restaurant. The second girl didn't like cooking very much and was always trying to weasel me into doing all the work I asked her to do. While the girls mixed and measured, we talked about their struggles at home and at school. Although I wasn't sure my second student was learning very much about cooking, I knew that the time I was spending with her was making a difference in her life.

One day when I left the room for a moment, my second student reached into an upper cabinet to get a beautiful, expensive dish I had received as a wedding gift. It slipped out of her hands and crashed to the floor, pieces scattering everywhere. When I saw the destruction, I handed her a broom and told her I'd be back in minute. With tears flooding my eyes, I found refuge in the bathroom and allowed myself to have a good cry. A battle began to rage in my spirit. On one hand, I kept telling myself, "It's just a dish. It's only a thing." And on the other hand, I kept reminding myself of how much money the dish had cost and how it had been a special wedding gift. So the tears kept rolling. My self-pity continued as I thought bitterly, "I spend all this time teaching her, and I get no thanks--only a broken dish. My first student was so nice--she got me a gift card."

And at that moment the Holy Spirit began to convict me through the Word:

Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven. Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and they Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly. Matthew 6:1-4

And if ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have ye? for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have ye? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love ye your enemies, and do good and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be the children o the Highest: for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Luke 6:33-35

I told myself, "Well, Elaine Johnson, if the reward you want is a twenty-dollar gift card, you're aiming for a small reward. Wouldn't it be better to count that dish as a small loss in your service to Christ?" Suddenly, I had the right perspective on my situation. After kneeling over the air conditioning vent for a few minutes to dry my eyes and to whisper a prayer of repentance, I was ready to face my student with a Christ-like response.

Our motivations in ministry can easily become focused on the praise of man. We look for those earthly rewards like little gifts of appreciation or acknowledgement from the pulpit. Or, perhaps, we may be serving so that others will think we're "spiritual." When we work for such temporal rewards, we forfeit the eternal rewards we could have received if our hearts had been focused on serving for Christ's sake.

Misplaced motivations are a subtle sin. We can look like wonderful, servant-minded Christians on the outside, but be filled with pride on the inside. In Matthew 6 we are told to "let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth." Sometimes we're guilty of impressing ourselves with our own generosity. Maybe no one knows about the good work we're doing, yet we pat ourselves on the back, reminding ourselves what good Christians we are. If so, we've received our reward.

I wonder how many times I've forfeited an eternal reward because I have been working for temporal, earthly ones. That's probably happened more often than not. And I would have to say that I still struggle to have the right motivations. Those silly, earthly rewards still lure me. Looking back, I can't even remember what I ate when I used that gift card. The meal must not have been that significant. But a heavenly reward presented by my Savior--now that will be something!

Sunday Meals

For those of us who don't have the fancy ovens that turn on and off at the appropriate times, here are a few Sunday meals that can be coking while we are at church.

BB's Chicken and Rice

1 whole cut-up chicken or 6 chicken breasts
3 cups rice
3 cups chicken broth
3 cans chopped chilies (they are very mild; they just add a little zip to the dish.)
1 1/2 cups sour cream 1 family-sized can cream of chicken soup

Pour the rice into an 11x14 dish; set aside. In a bowl, put chicken broth, chilies, sour cream, and soup. Mix well. Pour 3/4 of mixture over rice. Place chicken on top of rice. Pour remaining mixture over chicken. Cover with foil. Place in 325 degree oven for 3 to 3 1/2 shours Serves 6-7.

On-the-Go Roast

3 lbs. beef or pork roast
5-6 medium potatoes, unpeeled, cut into 1-inch cubes
3 cups baby carrots (pre-peeled)
1 medium onion, sliced
1 package dry onion soup mix
2 family-sized cans cream of mushroom soup

Extras:
Fresh mushrooms
Fresh cabbage, cubed
Parsnips
Rutabagas

In a large (11x14) roasting pan, place roast, potatoes, carrots and onion. Sprinkle onion soup all over and spread mushroom soup all over. Cover with foil, place in a 350 degree oven and cook for at least 4-5 hours. With this recipe, there is no need to make gravy; it is already done for you. Serves 6.

Sunday Meatloaf
(Even if you don't like meatloaf, you will love this one.)

2 lbs. ground beef
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped green pepper
1 cup shredded cheese
1 small can mushrooms (drained)
2 eggs
1 cup oatmeal
1/3 cup ketchup
1/3 barbeque sauce
1/4 cup mustard
1 tsp. each salt and pepper
1 Tbsp. garlic powder

Topping:
1/3 cup ketchup
1/3 cup barbeque sauce
1/4 cup mustard

Combine all ingredients in large bowl. Mix with a spoon or by hand. Place in greased casserole dish. Form a tight, oblong loaf; make crevice in top to hold the sauce. Bake at 325 degree oven for 3 to 3 1/2 hours.

Kansas City Barbeque Briset

1 beef brisket (3-5 lbs)
1 onion cut into rings
16 oz. barbeque sauce, divided

Place the brisket in a glass dish. Distribute onion rings evenly. Pour 8 oz. of barbeque sauce over the beef and cover the dish with foil. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 3-4 hours. Slice the beef across the grain or shred for sandwiches. Pour remaining BBQ sauce over the beef and serve.

Thinking Truthfully-Audrey Beth Roland

Thinking truthfully is harder than it sounds. Trust me—I can give you first-person testimony. This problem crops up more regularly in my life than I would like to admit. Whether it’s jumping to terrible conclusions when my husband is late or imagining harm coming to my children when I leave them with someone else, fearful thinking can occur frequently in my mind. Although many of these fearful thoughts can be dismissed as quickly as they arise, God recently used a situation in my life to show me how dangerous a practice of untruthful, fearful thinking can be.

About three months ago, I visited my physician in order to get a refill for a thyroid prescription. During the routine examination, my doctor discovered that the left side of my thyroid was “definitely enlarged.” He recommended that I get a thyroid ultrasound and referred me to an imaging lab. Having had Hashimoto’s thyroiditis since seventh grade, I wasn’t too alarmed, but I still had to focus on trusting God. I convinced myself that it was nothing and expected a good report from the lab. However, when the results returned, they contained a recommendation, which my doctor then relayed to me, that I get a biopsy. Well, the fears immediately began bombarding me…“I have cancer! I’m going to die. My kids won’t even remember me. I don’t want to die! I’ll miss so much. I love my family—I don’t want to leave them!” Let me assure you this is a much more concise and pared-down version than the merry-go-round my thinking actually rode.

Even though these thoughts were a constant struggle, I didn’t just lie down and take it. I found myself looking in my spare moments to get extra Biblical truth—mostly from the Psalms. I had good days and bad days. One thing I really wished was that I didn’t have to wait to have the biopsy done, because that left all sorts of time for me to have no answers. Unfortunately (in my estimation), there was a period of about two weeks of waiting, and I firmly believe now that God wanted to use those days to teach me more about Himself, myself and life.

Casting my cares on God, giving my thinking to Him and sitting back in trust were ever-present needs for me. One night in particular, I was talking with my husband when he rebuked me. He pointed out that I already had myself dead and in the grave when we didn’t even know if anything was truly wrong. He reminded me that God doesn’t want us to live in fear—and certainly not in fear of something we don’t even know to be true. From that time on, I endeavored to be more proactive in choosing what to think instead of waiting for my thoughts to take me “unawares.” I still had fearful thoughts, but I tried to turn them into prayers or meditations on Who God is. A facebook friend posted Philippians 4:6-7 on her wall during this time, and my Father used these verses to be a great comfort: Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Praise the Lord my biopsy came back negative! I can’t tell you how joyful and relieved I was. The truth is that if the biopsy had been positive, God would have given me the grace I needed when I needed it; yet another undeniable truth is that He wanted to teach me to trust Him with even the possibility of things not going my way.

Thinking truthfully is a continuous battle for all of us. Many times we don’t realize how much wrong thinking has crept into our hearts until God sends us a jolt. I’m grateful He did that for me. David says in Psalm 13:2a, How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? I read that this could also be said, “How long must I wrestle with my thoughts [fear] and every day have sorrow in my heart?” As I’ve looked back over that period of time and at my life in general as I struggle to think truthfully, it has been an encouragement to me to reflect that God allows us to see the man “after His own heart” struggling with his thinking but choosing to give those thoughts to his Shepherd. Psalm 62:8 says, Trust in [God] at all times;…pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us.

Abundant Grace Fall 2014

Part Eight

Lexie's POV

Conversations buzzed all around me while the continual drone of rain beat against the window pane. Yet I heard nothing. It was as though the world was dead to me. I felt vacant inside; only able to stare into the blank space and toss the salt shaker back and forth. All the while, despondent thoughts whirled around in my head. “Why is this so hard for me to do?” I asked myself, struggling with what was about to transpire. “Why can’t I just voice what’s wrong? I can’t keep going on like this! I must—”

“Lexie,” he spoke softly, trying to lure me gently back to the present, causing my eyes to shift to meet his concerned ones. I furrowed my eyebrows, confusion masking my expression. As if reading my thoughts, he gave a small smile. “Have you decided what you’re going to order yet?” he asked as he gestured toward the menus. I hesitated slightly, causing him to raise an eyebrow before voicing slowly, “You...just want me to order our specialty?”

After I gave him a nod of approval, he signaled the waitress while I began to fumble with the salt shaker again. It wasn’t long before dad’s soft chuckle filled the air and his hand reached over to retrieve the wobbling salt shaker. “If you keep this up much longer, you’re going to burn a hole in their table,” my dad teased. Awkwardly, I gave a slight smile and shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say. Silence fell, and right away, I knew what was coming.

“I spoke with your mom the other day,” Dad said cautiously, watching me for a reaction. But I only bit my lower lip and held my breath, waiting for him to continue. He took my silence as a positive sign and went on to say, “She said it appears that you’ve been—struggling a little bit since I’ve been gone.”

“He’s beating around the bush!” I thought. Already, I was beginning to feel as though I were backed into a corner, rapidly causing my emotional walls to grow thicker. Totally faking it, I started to lie with, “I’m fine, really. It’s just stress.”

“Lexie,” he whispered urgently. While concern filled his eyes, he reached across the table for my hand, trying to gain my full attention. He added, sternness and compassion dripping heavily from each word, “For once, just tell me straight out, okay? We need to know. We are all worried about you.”

At that, a wave of mixed emotions swept over me, and I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore without feeling another piece of my hard interior crumbling. Raising a hand, I began to rub my throbbing temple and opened my mouth. However, the many words that were sitting on the tip of my tongue refused to come out.

Moments passed slowly before Dad finally gave a soft sigh and leaned back into his chair. He knew that I’d open back up to him when I was fully ready; it was only a matter of time.

“So,” he drawled, now trying to change the conversation to a lighter mood, “how has Ian been doing lately?”

“I—haven’t really spoken to him in awhile,” I answered truthfully, feeling a pang of guilt rush through me while I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. In the back of my mind, I knew exactly how long it had been since I’d had a decent conversation with Ian—two and a half weeks. Sure, I had seen him since then, but the atmosphere of our meetings had changed greatly.

It was then that our food arrived, and it couldn’t have been better timing. The aroma of hamburger patties and melted cheese surrounded our table. I breathed it all in as I stared at the full plate in front of me.

“Dig in,” my dad exclaimed as soon as he had blessed the food. I eyed my fat cheeseburger one more time before picking it up and taking a big bite. I closed my eyes at the blissful taste as it exploded in my mouth. “This is good,” I commented as I waved the burger slightly.

Grinning, he doused the edge of his hamburger in ketchup before taking a large bite, causing ketchup to smear across the side of his face. I tapped the side of my face, “You’ve got a little something there,” I chuckled.

He suddenly froze. “What is it?” I asked, handing him a napkin.

His grin grew as he said cheekily, “You just laughed.”

By now, a smile had implanted itself on my lips. For the first time in a long time, I had a feeling everything was about to change for the better.

Abundant Grace Summer 2014

Part Seven

I was left with my thoughts of yesterday; morning had come and gone, leaving behind rays of light cascading about. It was then, as I found myself pouring a second cup of coffee, that I decided to check on Lexie. I knew she had had another nightmare, for I had heard her crying out in her sleep. I wished I could help her somehow, someway; but she tended to put up shields of steel, preventing people from getting too close. The only one that had seemed able to break through this barrier was Ian, but now he didn’t seem to come around anymore. My heart was breaking as I was forced to watch from the sidelines as Lexie continued to live in this manner. When she was young, things had been different. We had used to live in harmony, but now all that holds our “family” together is nothing but a thin, unraveling thread.

When I reached Lexie’s door, I hesitated. An all-too-familiar silence greeted me. Softly, I pushed the door open, hoping that the hinges wouldn’t protest. As the hallway’s light cast beams into her darkened room, they revealed my forlorn daughter lying curled up in the fetal position. Her eyebrows were drawn tightly together, and her lower lip quivered, causing soft whimpers to escape from her mouth. I sighed heavily and quickly closed the door, pausing as I leaned against it. I had promised her that I would not do anything about this: the insomnia, the nightmares, the unhealthy eating habits. But if I didn’t do something soon, what would that classify me as? People say a promise is a promise regardless of the circumstances, but when someone loves unconditionally, would it not be better to break your word than watch a person hurt themselves again and again? It would take only one phone call to elicit help... Without a doubt, whether this was right or wrong, I thumbed through my phone’s contact list, stopping when the name appeared.

“Good morning, this is Dr. Randle’s office,” the receptionist answered. “How may I assist you?”

“Hello,” I greeted softly, taking a step away from Lexie’s bedroom. “This is Anna Gunzila. By chance, is Dr. Randle available?”

“Yes. One moment please, Mrs. Gunzila. I will transfer your call.”

“Thank you.”

I had to wait only a moment before the line was reconnected. “Hello, Anna? Is everything all right?”

“Ye-” I started to stammer, but stopped before continuing. “No, Aaron...to be truthful, it isn’t. I have already spoken to my husband, Greg, regarding this, and he requested me to call you only as my last resort. As an old family friend, we now need your help more than ever.”

Silence hung in the air before Aaron breathed, “This is concerning Lexie, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but how did you-”

He gave a soft chuckle, “My son, Ian, has already informed me regarding bits and pieces. The poor lad is totally beside himself. Apparently, the two of them are on the “outs” at the moment, for Lexie has been ignoring him over the past week or so.”

I winced, “Hmmm, at least Greg and I aren’t the only ones receiving the cold shoulder.”

“This is not like her, Anna.”

“I agree,” I said without hesitating. “Maybe if she were only acting this way toward us, her parents, we would say that it was an act of rebellion, but Ian too? For the life of us, neither Greg nor I can find the source of this...major issue.”

Aaron sighed, “Well, something has to be triggering Lexie in order for her to be reacting this way.”

I bit my lip, debating whether or not I should request this. Ready to reap any future consequences, I took a deep breath and went on to say, “Maybe, if I bring her in for an appointment, we might be able to get the answers we seek?”

“What kind of answers?” he drawled out, not truly following where this was all heading.

“Answers to why she is having nightmares every night!” I began to gush. “Why she hasn’t been eating-”

“Wait,” Aaron cut in. “She’s not eating?” I hesitated slightly, “No. Well, not much anyway.”
“Bring her tomorrow morning at nine. I will speak to her then.”

I closed my eyes, gratitude filling my heart, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“Anytime,” he replied sincerely before saying goodbye.

As I echoed my own goodbye and disconnected the call, I raised a hand to wipe away a stream of tears. Then, I took a deep breath before turning around, only to freeze in my tracks.

With perspiration running down her ashen face, Lexie stumbled back a step, shaking her head in disbelief. “Mom,” she whispered hoarsely, “you broke your promise.”

Abundant Grace Spring 2014

Part Six

The room was dark, the air tense, unsettling. Already, fear had engaged itself deep in my heart. I was tired and chilled to the bone, huddled in a corner, shaking like a leaf in the midst of a fierce storm. All the while, raspy voices surrounded me, whispering in my ear, “Alone you are, deep in darkness, where no light can ever exist. Here you shall reside, forever in this black, forbidden pit.
“Please, nooo!” I cried out, bolting upright in my bed, my chest rising and falling. I drew in a shaky intake of breath, realizing it was yet another nightmare. By now, unwanted tears welled behind my eyelids, making me close my eyes. Licking my dry lips, trying to force the tears away, I re-opened my eyes, only to stare straight ahead, drawing a blank. With a sigh, I glanced at the clock: 1:13 a.m.
With one swift movement, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pushed myself off, refusing to go back to sleep, knowing the nightmares would only return. With my mind made up, I trudged toward the door, opening it quietly, hoping that a refreshing drink would calm me down. It was then, as I stood at the top of the stairs with my hand resting on the railing, that I heard muffled voices. I froze, curiosity growing within.
I crept slowly toward my mom’s bedroom before placing my ear against the door, listening carefully. Then, pushing it open slightly, I peeked in, spying my mom sitting in a chair, her back to me. I could see her reflection in the window.
“I just don’t know what to do, Greg.” She spoke softly, her phone resting in her lap, hinting that the incoming caller was on speaker phone. “She barely eats a handful at each meal, she gets less than three hours of sleep each night due to nightmares... I—it just seems that she is so unhappy. Depressed even...What if it is my—” “Anna, don’t say that,” my father cut in sternly. Before silence fell between them, he added more gently, “It is not your fault.”
My mom then raised her hand, anxiously running it through her hair. “Who’s to blame?” she whispered, as a single tear graced her cheek. “Greg, please...can’t you see how much this is hurting me?”
“This is hurting me just as much as you,” my father sighed heavily. “Even though I am not there now, that does not mean I don’t care about you or Lexie.” My heart froze at the mention of my name as he continued saying, “We are still a family. Even though I am halfway across the United States, away from you guys, that will never change. Do you understand that?”
“Of course,” Mom voiced. Then continuing in a subdued tone, she added, “I understand that it’s your job that causes you to work so many hours...but truly, when was the last time you were home for more than two days?”
“Anna, that’s not—”
“What, Greg? What’s not fair?” she choked back. “What’s not fair is that you’re always away on business. It’s hard enough to go through all of this with Lexie. Alone.”
Dad exclaimed then, empathy dripping from his words, “Sweetie, Darling, no. Please don’t ever think that you are alone in this! God will always be with you.” His voice suddenly grew quieter as he sincerely stated, “As will I, till death do us part.”
At that, a gentle, adoring smile tugged at the corners of my mom’s lips, resting there briefly, before disappearing completely. She then countered, “That still doesn’t solve the problem at hand. What do I do with Lexie? I can’t bear to watch as she
continually puts herself through this. It’s not like her at all. Anger just seems to be radiating from her constantly. Greg...she needs you.”
Dad sighed, “I know... But in the meantime, give her some time, Anna, and pray for her, earnestly. Only God can intervene.”
“You’re right,” she mused quietly.
“Aren’t I always?” Dad teased.
Mom laughed, her eyes illuminated, “Perhaps, but I thought I was the one who is always right.”
“Well,” my dad drawled out, “that’s debatable.”
“Mmm, got me there...” Mom continued to tease until a comfortable silence fell.
Seconds later, breaking the stillness, my dad said compassionately, “Anna, I love you.”
Tears of happiness filled her eyes as she echoed, “I love you too, Greg.” But catching sight of the time, she added reluctantly, “It’s late, and you have work tomorrow.”
“Ah, that’s life.”
Mom shook her head, a smile remaining on her lips, “Byyye, Greg,” she voiced in a sing-song manner.
“Bye, Anna,” Dad bid farewell.
With that, a click filled the air, indicating that the call had been disconnected. I remained frozen in place hiding behind the door. My heart felt heavier than ever. As a single tear slid down my cheek, I felt a part of my hard outer shell crumble. Then, into the darkness, I whispered softly, “What is wrong with me?”