“But Rita, I don’t deny him. He comes and takes her whenever he can. I try and make it as easy for him as possible.”
“Anna, a father can’t fully father a child unless he is in a family that lives together. It’s too difficult to be part of Melody’s life from a distance, a few days here and there. It’s not God’s way. It is the way of hard hearts and this crazy world. And it’s certainly not in the best interest of our children today the way they get shifted back and forth like a ping-pong ball.”
Anna felt the guilt of not having a family nucleus for Melody. She was good at guilt, but not so good at doing something about it. She hugged Melody close and avoided eye contact. She preferred to gaze upon her daughter’s peaceful slumber rather than Rita’s set of piercing gray eyes that could see their way into her troubled soul.
“You love him, Anna!”
Anna noticed how she stated the fact rather than ask the question.
“And you both need him, not just this dear child.”
“But, Rita, I don’t know what I feel.”
“Yes, you do, Anna.
“A woman like you with Christian convictions and a tender heart doesn’t just fall into bed with a stranger. That evening you had together was far more than the mere need for sex, and you know it.”
Anna gasped at her bluntness.
“Has he told you he loves you?”
Anna could not lie and nodded her head.
“Anna, open your eyes into the window of your heart. You were friends, long before Steven died. You had established relationship, trust, and respect for one another. There’s no sin in that. Then Steven died and all the barriers were taken down. There was affection, attraction, and yes, I wager to say … love.
“Just because you allowed things to evolve out of God’s order when you failed as mere mortals often do, there is no need to carry on in guilt.”
Clucking her tongue, she continued. “God isn’t asking you to pay penance for your sin, Anna. He paid the price on the cross, as you well know. You’ve repented and no longer live that lie. Now the only lie you’re living is not being honest with yourself.”
Her gaze, full of wisdom, drifted over Anna like loving hands.
“Anna, I know you love this man. I hear the tenderness in your voice when you speak of him. I see the way the mere mention of his name brings color to your cheeks and a smile to your lips. I may be old, Anna, but I’m not yet blind.”
Heat worked its way up in a hot rush from her neck to her hairline. Anna wanted to deny what the wise old woman was saying but couldn’t. She longed to be anywhere but sitting across from the one person who was not afraid to challenge her.
“What am I supposed to do, Rita?”
“You’re supposed to pray, Anna, and then do everything the Spirit of God tells you to do, whether you have all your ducks in a row or not.”
“Well, that’s rather vague, Rita.”
Rita had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, my dear, you start praying, and I assure you it will not be vague.”
Matt felt at peace. For the first time in his life a calm engulfed his soul. He no longer carried the weight of human pride on his shoulders, thinking he had it in his power to heal everyone and then agonizing when he couldn’t. An understanding that he was a mere instrument in the hands of God freed his tortured soul. His previous stress melted, and he slept like never before.
Though peaceful, Matt could not say he was happy. He concluded that happiness involved good happenings. Other than Melody, he had little in his day to bring cheer, yet he felt content. This conundrum baffled him. Could it be his previous quest for happiness was a deception and what he longed for was peace? What a revelation in the midst of turmoil, to be given strength and joy despite the ache of loss. As natural as breathing, thankfulness flowed spontaneously to his Father.
Anna, however, continued to frustrate him. She remained his mountain to climb, his thorn in the flesh, his portion to surrender. He longed for her to come to her senses, so they could be a family, but he could do nothing except wait.
Perseverance developed his character in areas where he lacked depth, knowing it was because most everything in his life had come easily to him.
Anna changed everything. He couldn’t be in her presence without needing her, loving her, longing for more. Yet, she seemed unaffected. Melody’s visits ensured he faced that growth in perseverance most every day.
He thought his sorry heart would hurt less to have Melody in his home rather than spending time at Anna’s. How wrong he was. The distance created an insatiable need. The time they had previously shared felt like crumbs when he desired so much more. But now that they had no time together, those crumbs felt like a loaf of bread. He had enjoyed the simple pleasure of friendship more than he understood. Those moments had brought life to their relationship. Now he was just the father to her child, a man she waved to in passing.
When he thought of her list of reasons not to enter into a relationship, he wanted to shake some sense into her, or kiss her senseless—both scenarios carried merit. Instead, he dropped to his knees and pleaded his case before God.
The weeks before Christmas carried a sadness Matt couldn’t shake. The holiday season amplified a loneliness that had never surfaced before. He desperately wanted to push Anna for more in the relationship, yet he refused to run ahead of God. Try as he might, he found it difficult to decipher if his desire to spend Christmas together as a family was his will or from the
