CXII
CASTING ALL YOUR CARE UPON HIM, FOR HE CARES FOR YOU
1 PETER 5:7
DESTINY KNIGHT-STORM
“The night before last, I tried to end my life,” FBI Agent Nora Medora had confided.
A chill ran up my spine. I clearly remember the despair I had felt the night I almost committed suicide. Yet Nora was the least emotional woman I had ever known. So I gently eased my hand into hers, softly squeezed, and responded stoically, “But you didn’t.”
Her quiet, matter of fact response caused the chill to go back down my spine. “Not yet.”
We sat silent for a moment, and I prayed earnestly for the right thing to say. But the Holy Spirit seemed to instruct me to wait and let her talk first. After a couple minutes, Nora said, “When the gun jammed, my first thought was to grab another pistol. But you know what my second thought was?”
“What?”
“It was here.”
“Here?” I inquired, thinking she meant Brock’s and my home.
“This swing set,” Nora said. “I was here when Oralee saw it for the first time. Something about recalling the pure joy on her cute little face put at least a temporary stop to my desire to die. I guess you could say it gave me hope. But to be completely honest, the hope is fading.”
“I know the feeling,” I replied.
“Maybe,” she said and sighed.
I felt a flicker of irritation at her reply, but replied calmly, “What do you mean, maybe?”
“Well, your hope didn’t fade, did it? It only grew and blossomed. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, even though our history hasn’t exactly been lovey dovey. You’re my last hope. I’m impressed with the change I’ve seen in you, in Brock, in Seven, in all the girls you’ve helped, including your own adopted daughters.”
In my heart I felt rebuked, and justifiably so. We always need to put ourselves in another’s shoes. It suddenly occurred to me how different both of our suicidal situations were. I never actually made the attempt, but Nora did. I just toyed with pills on a table as if they were deadly marbles. Also, my death would have been simply falling asleep forever. Nora’s demise would have been a violent splattering of brain and bone, along with the defilement of her handsome face.
“I think what we both have in common is…,” I said gently. “We both didn’t wake up one morning, and think, you know what? I’m gonna kill myself today. Pain, hurt, loneliness, depression, anxiety, and whatever else had been building for weeks, months, even years.”
She gave a little smirk and nod that communicated that she knew I would understand how she was feeling. And I knew it was extremely hard for her to come to me, someone she once had, and maybe still did, view as a nemesis.
“Going to see my aunt and confiding what I almost did, was the hardest thing I had ever done,” I confessed. “I was more nervous than the first time I stripped in front of a room full of leering men. Then again, I also wasn’t drunk and high when I went to see my aunt.”
“But she was your aunt, not your…” Nora looked at me with an almost perplexed expression.
“Rival?” I asked with a sweet smile.
Her eyes squinted, and I felt myself stiffen. Then she smirked and said, “Want to fight?”
“Yeah, right, I’d last all of one second,” I laughed and then continued. “The thing is this, though. Aunt Belle may have been my dad’s sister, but I had barely known her, and I hadn’t seen her in person in over a decade that day I pulled into her driveway. I expected her to be a judgmental religious zealot like my dad.”
“But you went anyway,” Nora interjected. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I was desperate, and I didn’t know where else to turn. I may have wanted to die, but ironically, I also didn’t want to die.”
“I suppose I could say those same words about me sitting here with you,” she admitted.
“Just to be clear, Nora, I never wanted to be, or ever, considered you a rival. I’ve always hoped we could be friends, even if you would have went through with your marriage to Brock.”
“I know that,” she said and sighed. “It has been all me, and I owe you an apology.”
“Well, that’s not necessary, but I accept.”
“Wait, I just said I owe you one. I didn’t mean I was giving one.”
“Oh,” I replied, a little startled. Then she actually laughed.
“I’m kidding, Dee. I am truly sorry for how nasty I’ve been to you.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“For what?”
“I guess for not always responding the way I should have.”
Nora snorted, smiled, and actually gazed at me with fondness in her eyes. “As Pilate declared when the mob wanted to kill Jesus, I find no fault in you.”
“Thank you,” I stammered. “But…”
“Friends,” Nora blurted with an extended hand.
“We can do better than that,” I said, smiling warmly as I moved to embrace her.
The hug was awkward as we were still somewhat seated in our swings. But she held onto me for a few seconds before she pushed away, and said lightheartedly, “I do want what you all have spiritually, but I don’t ever see myself becoming the touchy feely type.”
“Do you really think Brock and Seven are touchy feely?”
“They’re guys.”
“So are you,” I said with a smile and a wink.
She laughed and said, “I think we truly will be friends, Dee.”
“I hope so.”
We were silent for a minute, and then Nora started talking. “When I was a girl, I wanted to be Wonder Woman. So much so, I became a cop. My first delusion between fiction and reality was working vice in Miami, when they had me dress like a hooker to catch johns. To me that was a far cry from my dreams of being a real crime fighter.
“I was patient though, played the game, and achieved my dream of becoming first a homicide detective, and then a FBI agent. But even that didn’t live up to expectations. I didn’t realize how much dealing with the vilest of humans would bring me down. Not to mention the shallow game of politics working for a bureaucracy.
“Now I’ve come to realize, in some ways, I’m as shallow as all the corrupt politicians. In some ways, I’m as vile as some of the criminals I pursue. I’ve also come to realize, I’m all alone. My lifelong pursuit of justice has turned into a black cloud of nihilism. But then I see you guys at Cotton Creek Cove, and I think, maybe there is hope.”
“No maybe about it,” I replied softly. “There is hope.”
“Yeah,” Nora replied, and began to fidget. I sensed she was getting restless with our talk, and I prayed for the right thing to say that would strengthen her soul.
“Here’s what I think if you want your hope to keep growing,” I said, and paused, considered what to say.
“Okay, I’m listening,” Nora said.
“Keep following hope.”
“Huh?”
“This desire you have is the Holy Spirit’s leading,” I told her. “Keep following its lead. You’ve been reading your Bible, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” Nora responded, a little surprised I perceived this. “Actually, yes I have.”
“Good, keep doing that. And remember, prayer is the better half of study.”
“I’ve been doing that too.”
“Good!” I encouraged. “One more thing. You know Captain Kirk, right?”
“Of course, the old pastor with the long white beard.”
“He was an Army Chaplain in Vietnam and is a really good counselor,” I told her, and then joked. “He’s wise beyond his years.”
“If that’s the case, he must be right up there with Solomon,” she replied with a smirk.
“See, I knew you’ve been studying your Bible,” I grinned. “Anyway, I’m glad to be here for you whenever you want. But given your line of work, and what you’ve told me, Pastor Samson is better equipped to help you.”
“So you’re saying if I was a stripper or did porn, you’d be better suited to help me?”
Although a joke, I feared I had alienated her. “Nora, I’d absolutely love to study the Bible with you, pray, and talk on a regular basis. But given your line of work, I think Captain Kirk would be a more efficient help with what’s lead up to your feelings of despair.”
“I know what you’re saying,” she replied nodding. “As soon as you mentioned him, his experience with PTSD occurred to me, too.”
We were silent for a moment, and I was thankful she understood.
“Tell me something, Dee. When you’ve helped a girl get out of a destructive lifestyle, how often does it stick?”
“I’d say that probably a third of the ladies I’ve helped ended up back in that lifestyle.”
“As the proverb says, returned to their own vomit,” Nora said, but neither of us laughed at the joking aspect of her response.
“I’m afraid so.”
“How many actively pursue God of the ones that don’t go back?”
“That’s impossible to answer accurately. Everybody is at a different place spiritually. But there are maybe half a dozen that attend Cotton Creek Cove on a regular basis. Then there’s some that have found another church that they are more comfortable with than mine. And then there are some that are living clean lives, but don’t go to church at all.”
Nora nodded, then asked about our now seventeen year old adopted daughter. “How’s Marcy doing? Does she go to church with you?”
It was getting close to a year since, by the grace of God, we had rescued her and our other adopted daughter Oralee as they escaped sex traffickers.
“She’s doing good,” I shrugged. “She has good days and bad days. Good nights and bad nights. And she goes to church with us some times. We give her plenty of space. She’s smart as a whip, and I’ve never met a stronger more preserving soul than my Marcella.”
“Marcella,” Nora repeated. “I remember that’s her actual name, it’s beautiful.”
“It means strong, and warrior. Brock told her what her name meant when she was first with us. She liked it, so we usually call her Marcella rather than Marcy.”
What I didn’t tell Nora was that the first couple months Marcella was with us, she would awake with night terrors. I would sleep with her, spooning her quivering body as I quietly cried myself back to sleep. Thankfully, her nightmares now are fewer and farther between.
“I noticed she calls you Dee, but Oralee calls you mom,” Nora said. “Does that bother you?”
“A little,” I acknowledged. “But only because I love her so much. If she’s not comfortable calling me mom, I’d rather she just call me Dee.”
Nora nodded, and then squinted. I looked in the direction she was and saw that somebody had pulled into our driveway. The visitor got out of their car, and Brock came quickly out the backdoor and shook hands with the man.
“Is that Tito Bonnano?” Nora said, and then leapt to her feet grinning. “I’m gonna go kick that old dog in the…”
I slowly arose from the swing, gathering my thoughts after Nora’s and my brief, but deep conversation. I heard something behind me and turned. Marcella had emerged from behind a big oak tree, a book in her hand, and tears running down her expressionless face. Her long blonde hair spilled from a ponytail.
My heart stopped. She had been eaves dropping on Nora and me. Did I say anything to offend her or upset her? I must have! But she stepped quickly to me and hugged me fiercely.
“I love you with all my heart,” she whispered into my ear. But it was the last word she spoke that sent a ripple of joy through my soul. “Mom.”
(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)
(The LIFE and MINISTRY of JESUS Part V)
As a child, the powers of mind and body developed gradually, in keeping with the laws of childhood.
As a child, Jesus manifested a peculiar loveliness of disposition. His willing hands were ever ready to serve others. He manifested a patience that nothing could disturb, and a truthfulness that would never sacrifice integrity. In principle firm as a rock, His life revealed the grace of unselfish courtesy.
The child Jesus did not receive instruction in the synagogue schools. His mother was His first human teacher.
As He advanced from childhood to youth, He did not seek the schools of the rabbis. He needed not the education to be obtained from such sources, for God was His instructor.
From His earliest years He was possessed with one purpose. He lived to bless others.
As we try to become acquainted with our heavenly Father through His word, angels will draw near, our minds will be strengthened, our characters will be elevated and refined. We shall become more like our Savior.
Communion with God through prayer develops the mental and moral faculties, and the spiritual powers strengthen as we cultivate thought upon spiritual things.
From His earliest years Jesus was guarded by heavenly angels, yet His life was one long struggle against the powers of darkness.
No child of humanity will ever be called to live a holy life amid so fierce a conflict with temptation as was our Savior.
Christ was the only sinless one who ever dwelt on earth; yet for nearly thirty years He lived among the wicked inhabitants of Nazareth. This fact is a rebuke to those who think themselves dependent upon place, fortune, or prosperity to live a blameless life.
He whose word of power upheld worlds would stop to relieve a wounded bird. There was nothing beneath His notice, nothing to which He disdained to minister.
Jesus shunned display. During all the years of His stay in Nazareth, He made no exhibition of His miraculous power. He sought no high position and assumed no titles.
The more quiet and simple the life of a child, the more free from artificial excitement, and the more in harmony with nature—the more favorable it is to physical and mental vigor, and to spiritual strength.
Jesus is our example at every age!
Seven Sallie Showdown 