Her Daughter’s Dream

His last telephone message came back to her so clearly. She remembered pressing the button and hearing his voice. “I love you, Dawn. I’ll love you forever.” Pain lanced through her. She’d listened to that message over and over, for days, weeks, before she finally surrendered to God and erased it. Jesus, where is Your purpose in this? If she’d known Jason was attending Cal Poly, she never would have applied. She didn’t know what to say to him now, so she resorted to the mundane. “It’s good to see you again, Jason.” She spoke as though they had been mere acquaintances, not lovers.

“Really.” He sounded doubtful.

She blinked, wishing her heart would slow down. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He mocked her. “I’m doing great.” He nodded toward his friends at the other table, the girl watching their exchange. He didn’t ask Dawn if she wanted to be introduced. The dark-haired girl gave her a curious smile. Jason moved enough to block her from view. Dawn could feel his animosity.

“It took me a long time to get over you, Dawn. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”

What could she say to that? She’d never gotten over him, never would. She hadn’t realized that fully until now. Oh, Lord, why? Lowering her eyes, she put her hands around the cooling cup of coffee. She didn’t know what to say.

“You’re wearing the bracelet I gave you.”

She glanced at the gold chain with the delicate heart and glistening pearl. “I’ve never taken it off.”

He looked as though she’d punched him in the stomach. “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“I called, Dawn. You never called back. I left you a message. I never heard a word from you. Not one. You want to explain?”

“You know why, Jason.”

“Yeah, right.” He sneered. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

She hadn’t planned on a public confession, but she didn’t feel like being a silent martyr. “We went too far, Jason. It was always going to be all or nothing with us. And it was all sin three years ago.” Her eyes burned. “I…” She had to swallow before she could confess more. “I wanted to get right with God.”

Jason studied her face and then turned his back and walked away. Suffocating with pain, Dawn watched him sit with his friends. Was he telling them who she was, what they had once been to each other, what he thought of her now? The dark-haired girl leaned back and looked at her again. One of the guys looked, too, scraped his chair back, and got up until Jason said something that made him sit down again.

Why was she still sitting here, torturing herself with regret and shame? She couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t undo what she had done. She had no control over what Jason thought about her now.

Gathering her things, Dawn threw away the cup and crumpled napkin and left the cafe. Her throat burned with tears as she hurried down the steps and along the walkway away from the library.

Oh, God, I must’ve misunderstood. Why did I come here? This is the last place I should be. Oh, Lord, the look on his face… I thought I was over him. She brushed tears away and kept walking. You are my first love, Jesus, my forever love. But it hurts, Lord. I wish You had arms to hold me.

She headed for her chemistry class.

41

Dawn continued studying in the library every afternoon, but didn’t go back to the cafe. She got up early every morning and sat at her nook window, with the sun coming in, and read her Bible. Sometimes she felt she was walking in the valley of the shadow of death, her heart trembling and broken. She feared running into Jason. She couldn’t bear to see the coldness in his eyes.

Studying held off the pain. She’d pushed herself through class after class for three years. She would do it again. Surely God had a purpose in all this. She prayed constantly. Sometimes she talked aloud to Him when she sat alone in her apartment. What do You want me to do with the rest of my life? She could never be the Proverbs 31 wife. Maybe God intended her for the mission field. There must be dozens of organizations who needed nurses. Maybe she’d serve on an Indian reservation or in Africa or the Far East. Someplace far away, Lord, at the ends of the earth.

Every night, she dreamed of Jason. Every morning, she woke up and cried. She begged God to stop the dreams.

Day after day, she set her mind on attending classes, taking notes, completing assignments to the best of her ability. God had a plan for her. She would trust God to work it all out.

She thought of Oma and how she had said she had made plans of her own and then found God had made better ones for her. She searched for God’s promises and wrote them in the leather-bound journal Oma had given her.

I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself… I know the plans I have for you… plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.

I want to believe You, Lord. Help me believe.

Eventually, she found a church similar to CCC and finally felt at home, comforted among the flock of believers, less vulnerable than when she was by herself battling loneliness and loss. The second week she attended, she spotted Jason in the third row. She would have left if the service hadn’t already started.

God, why are You doing this to me?

When the pastor called for prayer, Jason didn’t just bow his head; he hunched over. Dawn felt grateful. She’d stolen his innocence, but at least she hadn’t destroyed his faith. When the congregation rose to sing, Jason stood taller than the others around him. He looked like a soldier, shoulders back, head up. Throat tight, Dawn mouthed the praise songs, unable to make a sound.

The service ended. She thought about heading quickly for the door, but Jason rose and started down the aisle. Afraid he’d see her, she kept her head turned away as he made his way toward the doors. Departing parishioners greeted him, drawing him into conversation. She leaned down as though to get her purse as he passed by and then sat up and watched him go out the door.

The sanctuary emptied. The praise band stowed their instruments. Dawn rose. She’d try another church next Sunday. Or maybe she’d just stay home and read her Bible.

Monday, Dawn dragged herself out of bed and did her morning Bible reading. She barely made it to her anatomy class and had to struggle to keep her eyes open. She downed a cup of coffee before she went to her nursing history course, then went to the dining complex for a slice of pizza at BackStage. She had two hours before her next class, enough time to study in the library.

After an hour, she felt drained. She massaged her forehead, wishing the coffee had helped the headache. She’d lived in San Luis Obispo two whole months; it felt like ten years. She didn’t know if she could stay here. Maybe she should transfer. Maybe it had been a mistake coming here, even though she had felt certain God had been directing her. She hadn’t expected more pain, more sleepless nights, more confusion. If she transferred, she wouldn’t face the risk of seeing Jason every day. She might have a chance to see what God wanted her to do.

Someone pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. She didn’t feel like sharing her space. Gathering her notes, she tucked them quickly into a folder. She leaned over for her backpack.

“I’ve been trying to find you.”

Her heart lurched to a stop and then raced.

Jason folded his arms on the table. “How are you doing?”

Why now, Lord? I don’t know what You want from me anymore. She gave Jason a bleak smile. “I’m managing.” All the old attraction swam through her blood as he looked her over.

Standing, she lifted her backpack onto the table and began putting her books away.

“You look tired, Dawn.”

“I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“Neither have I.” He leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Do you want to go somewhere? talk?”