Forever Blessed (Women of Prayer) Read online

  Her heart ached for Keisha. Lord, give her strength to do this. Keep her safe, Lord. Given Keisha’s background, she was unsure if the woman would follow through and keep her distance from her boyfriend. It would be a struggle, but she’d learned a long time ago to let go and let God. God had to be Keisha’s source of strength. What Keisha did from here on out, depended on her. Yes, everyone from the shelter would still be here for her and yes, she could call anytime day or night, but Keisha had to remain strong. This had to be her decision.

  Then there was Laney. In the past week, she had flourished. Her shell had begun to crack and emerging was a beautiful chick, ready to embrace the world. Her first hesitant steps were traumatic, but each step thereafter was steadier and more graceful.

  Sheila leaned against the doorframe, contemplating the two women before her. They couldn’t be more different. Keisha with her dark skin, unruly hair and a smile that lit up the room. She was uneducated yet she knew more about life and heartache than any one person should. Her heart was bigger than her pocketbook and her mouth ran a mile a minute. Where is she going, Lord? Please reveal her purpose to her Father. Her steps are ordered by you. Help me to turn her over to you. To trust you. Lord you know how much I love her. Oh Father, protect her and Junior. Give them peace in this place, Lord. When her thoughts start wandering, give her the courage to stay put.

  Sheila’s thoughts wandered to Laney, her tall girlish figure sprawled across the floor, red hair spilling onto the linoleum. Her fair skin and a light sprinkling of freckles across her face gave the youthful appearance of a teenager, not a thirty-four-year-old woman. All the education in the world didn’t keep her from a painful relationship. Lord, she’s had her feelings locked away for so long, she doesn’t know who to trust. Help me reach her, Lord. Reveal yourself to her. Show me what to do, what to say. She’s been hurt by your church, Lord. She doesn’t understand the sinful nature of man and the perfect nature of you, oh Lord. She watched her mother being abused all those years and the church standing by, watching, because it was none of their business. Help her to see you through all that. Help her to know things are different now, better than they used to be. People care. Lord, how do I reach her?

  As different in looks, backgrounds and temperaments as these two women were, in the past week they had formed a bond no one could break. They both understood each other’s pain, sorrow and loss. It was an unlikely union, yet Sheila has seen stranger friendships form. Nobody knew who they would connect with, especially in extenuating circumstances.

  Sheila thought back to her own family, and the abuse her mother received from the hand of her father. What was it about women, about their fragile psyche that they allowed men to abuse them? Sheila chose to never marry, to never experience the brutality offered to her in the name of love. Her one experience with a boyfriend who got physical proved to her that girls who grew up in abusive homes tended to attract abusers. Instead of running from God, like Laney did, Sheila ran to him. She found comfort and protection in the arms of her Savior. When her house was falling down around her, she would sit in her closet, hold her doll and pray. She grew close to the Lord in that closet. She breathed him in, and he filled her to capacity. By the age of seventeen, she knew her purpose in life. She would have a ministry that helped abused women and children and hopefully show them that God could be completely trusted. She spent every dime of her inheritance investing in House of Hope and keeping it government-free. It took every ounce of her energy as well. Someday, if God brought along that special someone, she would welcome him. Until that day, God was her companion day and night.

  “Earth to Sheila, hello.” Laney was waving her hands in front of Sheila’s face.

  “Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought. Although how anyone could think with the noise you two were making, I’ll never know. Call me talented.”

  Keisha looked at the soapy mess on the floor, “Laney-girl, don’ even think you’re goin’ nowhere. You hear? You gonna clean up this mess you done made. Mmmm-hmmm, yes, ma’am.”

  “Me? All right, all right. Where is the bucket? I’ll mop the floor. It needs a good cleaning anyway. Are you going to finish the dishes?”

  Keisha finished the job Laney had started while Sheila tackled the bathroom. It wasn’t long before the little apartment was ready for occupancy.

  Sheila looked at her watch. They would have to head out soon. This first night was going to be tough on Keisha. “Keisha, we have to get going. We have to be back for supper and then group. Your refrigerator and cupboards are stocked. You and Junior should be just fine. Call me if you need anything, you hear me?”

  Keisha hugged Sheila tight. “We gonna be just fine. You’ll see. I’m gonna make Junior a grilled cheese for supper. That’s his favorite. Then, we’re gonna watch a movie and go to sleep in our own place. Jus’ me and him. It’s all good.”

  Keisha grabbed hold of Laney. “Come here, Laney-girl. Don’ you be worryin’ none. We’ll be safe here. That man don’ know where we are. He ain’t gonna be comin’ ‘round here. I got me a job and Junior’s gonna go to school. You go on home to them babies. They prob’ly wonderin’ where their mama went to.”

  Laney wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’ll miss you, Keisha. Make sure you come visit us.”

  Sheila and Laney waved goodbye as they got in the house van and drove to the shelter. Both quiet. Both wondering what was to be.

  Sheila was the first to speak “We need to trust the Lord, Laney. I know that is hard for you, but, until you do, you won’t find peace. There will always be something troubling you.”

  Laney looked at her friend. “I can’t do that, Sheila. I watched a whole church turn their heads and look the other way when my mother would come in, battered and bruised. I heard them ask her what she had done to deserve it. They even went so far as to ask if she wasn’t doing her duty in the bedroom. I don’t want anything to do with faith like that. That isn’t for me.”

  Sheila pulled the van to the side of the road, a righteous anger spilling from her being. “Laney, do you really think that was God? Do you? Do you really think he thought she deserved what she got? Do you really think God looked down from heaven and said, 'That woman isn’t pleasing her man in bed so she deserves to be beat?' Well, do you?”

  Laney had never thought that pointedly about where she was placing the blame.

  Sheila held her hands up. “See this? This is flesh. It means I’m going to screw up. Every man, woman and child is gonna mess up at some point in their lives. It’s called sin. And if you think you hate it, imagine God hating it a billion times more. Sin is what happened to separate his creation from himself. Sin is what happened in the Garden of Eden and sin has been a part of our lives ever since then. What happened in that church was not God. What happened in that church was people too ignorant to know better, people who had been brought up to think a certain way. Think about it, Laney. Don’t make excuses for people. We are responsible for our own junk.”

  Sheila let out a deep breath in a desperate attempt at gaining control. She hadn’t meant to preach at her, but Laney’s preposterous belief that God was responsible for the contemptible treatment of her mother made her see red.

  “Every time I hear someone say, ‘If there was a God there wouldn’t be starving children in the world,’ it makes me want to slap them. Where is common sense? Do you know that if every Christian tithed there would be no hunger in the world? That’s just the Christians. What if the world was giving? God has given us everything we need to feed the world. We’re the problem, not him!”

  Laney was silent. The unanswered questions that Sheila posed tore at her heart with viselike claws, threatening to tear down all the carefully-erected walls she’d so painstakingly built. Had she been wrong? Did God really hate the wrongs as much as or more than she did? A single tear escaped. Her vision was obscured. She no longer knew if what she saw was reality, or simply vengeance and hatred of a different kind.

  Sheila sighed and looked at her
friend. “I’m sorry, Laney. I sometimes forget I don’t have to defend my God. He is God. His existence does not depend on my defending him or you believing in him. He wants us for his own, but he does not need us. Man does not define God. He defines us. His creation, created with a purpose and a plan with a destiny to fulfill. What we do with it is up to us."

  Both women sat quietly for a moment. Sheila put the van in gear and started toward home.

  Chapter Eight

  Paul stepped into his in-laws' house through the side door. Dave was sitting at the kitchen table while Barbara was stirring something on the stove. Just as it should be. Too bad their daughter didn’t have the same sense of responsibility.

  Dave looked up from the newspaper, “Oh, hi there, Paul. You are just in time for lunch. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a few days.”

  Dave and Barbara looked at one another.

  “Pull up a seat. Barbara made some homemade soup and bread. Just what the doctor ordered.”

  Barbara placed steaming bowls of soup before both men then took her place next to her husband.

  Dave bowed his head. “Lord, bless this food and bless our home. Father, I ask that you bring Laney home, where she belongs. A woman’s place is next to her husband, his helpmeet. Thank You, Lord for Your provision. Amen.”

  Paul looked to Dave and realized he had an ally. Why hadn’t he seen it before? “So, you two haven’t heard from her?”

  Dave shook his head as he blew on his soup. “No, we haven’t heard a word. Have we, Barbara?”

  “No, I haven’t heard anything. I don’t know where she could be.”

  Paul ate his soup, racking his brain for any clues to where she might have gone. “Do you remember anything? Anyone from her past that she might have asked for help? Any old boyfriends? Friends from college?”

  Dave looked at Barbara. “Barbara, what was that one girl's name, the one she went home with a few times? Do you remember her?”

  Barbara shook her head, “No, I think I remember who you’re talking about, but I can’t remember her name. It was some sort of funny nickname. It’ll come to me. I’ll have to think on it.”

  * * * *

  Paul sat on the floor in front of the box of yearbooks and memorabilia. Slowly he pulled out each item, one by one. “There has to be something here. Something I’m missing. Some kind of clue.”

  He leafed through each yearbook, page by page. Studying each picture, each page. He read through each name, wondering if they were the piece of the missing puzzle. He read each signature, looking for more than the typical well-wishes. I know you are here. Where are you?

  Finding nothing, he moved from the box on the floor to the computer. He hadn’t permitted Laney to have an email account, but if she was capable of leaving, she was capable of anything. After scrolling through the history and not finding anything, he turned off the machine. Nothing. Nothing to indicate where she might have gone.

  His next course of action required a phone call and some finesse.

  “Thank you for calling AT&T about your wireless service. My name is Abigail Lawrence it would be my absolute pleasure to assist you today." The service representative confirmed his phone number and began asking a series of questions to confirm he was who he said he was.

  After answering the customer service rep’s questions, he got to the heart of the matter. “Hi, I need some help. I am trying to reach my wife and she is not answering her phone. Is there any way you can help me find her?”

  “I do apologize, Mr. Sanders. Unfortunately, we do not have the capability to track or locate other devices.”

  “Surely there is something you can do. She has been gone for days. I’m afraid something has happened.”

  “How long has she been missing, sir?”

  “Several days. The police are doing everything they can, but if I don’t do something, I’ll go mad. Are you sure there isn’t some way you can help me? She has our three young children with her and I’m worried sick.”

  “I can check to see if there has been any activity on the account. Although legally I cannot give you that information, you can go online to your account and see if the phone has been used. That might help.”

  “Thank you. I will do that.” He hung up the phone.

  Did the stupid broad really think he hadn’t already checked the phone records? He did that right after she left. He already knew there wasn’t any activity on the phone. He needed to track her. Another dead end.

  Paul closed his eyes. Control. Maintain control at all times. That was the goal. She’d covered her tracks well this time. There would never be another time.

  * * * *

  After Paul left, Barbara watched her husband’s face, searching for any signs of regret or compassion for his daughter. He had seen Laney’s bruises. He saw her crying and he knew she was in pain, both emotional and physical. In all these years, he hadn’t changed. He didn’t see how wrong he was, how archaic his methods were.

  True, it had been years since he had hit her, but then, she’d learned not to give him any reason to. It used to be bad. A wrong look would send her to the icebox for a cold pack for her eye. Being late might be cause for a sling. She’d learned early on that any defiance toward her husband only meant pain. She’d learned her lesson. She’d been trained well. She hoped her daughter would find her way out of the same type of relationship she herself had endured. Even though she was secretly rooting for her girl, she knew if she remembered Laney’s friend’s nickname, she’d hand it over. Too many years of abuse guaranteed she’d do whatever her husband told her to do. It was that or face the pain again and she was afraid if he started hitting her again, he would send her to her Creator earlier than anticipated.

  Chapter Nine

  Ella watched the big white house carefully, looking for signs of it being what Merry said it was. At first, it had been hard to tell, but sure enough, she’d seen several women coming and going, children playing in the back yard too. Different kinds of children. Not from one family, she was sure of that. She’d prayed hard and had her answer. She believed God was calling her to this place. Maybe she would feel needed and find her purpose. Maybe this was the job that God was keeping her around for. Then again, maybe not. She was getting old and hearing things. She’d find out soon enough. Prayerfully, she could handle the job.

  She slowly made her way to the church. There was a chill in the air again, and she pulled her coat tighter. Good thing the church is close by. Otherwise I’d freeze to death. She never had her driver’s license; Frank wouldn’t allow her so much freedom. He took her everywhere she needed to go, always careful to keep a close eye on her. After he died, she’d thought about going for her license, but why? She’d lost contact with her family long ago. Frank didn’t like her to visit them. Her children rarely had anything to do with her and a visit or phone call from them made it feel like it was Christmas. Lord, what are they doing this morning? Have they come to know you yet? Are they going to your house to worship you?

  She sighed. Now, she was too old to drive. She’d probably push the gas instead of the brake and run into a store front, like that old guy did in…Oh, where was that…California? Yeah, she’d probably do the same thing. No, walking was just fine and if she had to get across town there was always the bus.

  She was almost directly across from the big white house. A woman with long red hair and two kids were in the front yard raking leaves. The woman studied Ella for a moment and must have decided she was harmless because she smiled and nodded her head. Ella’s heart broke, but she smiled back and continued toward church.

  She stopped at the bottom of the steps to catch her breath. Maybe she should get one of those electronic scooters. She chastised herself. I am not that old, and continued up the steps and through the big solid wooden doors. She slid into her pew just as the piano started playing a lively melody that had everyone around her standing and clapping their hands.
<
br />   I just sat down! If they think I am going to stand up they have another thing coming. A woman my age needs to rest now and then.

  A few rows ahead of her she saw Merry standing and clapping along with the rest of them. Feeling a twinge of guilt and bit of competition, she stood to her feet. All right, I’ll stand. But clapping was a whole nether matter. She’d never seen so much clapping and moving around in all the days she’d attended that church. If Frank were alive, he would have made them go to a different church. Church was supposed to be a quiet place, a place of reverence. Not some wild dance hall.

  Ella stood completely still as she watched some woman dancing in the aisle. Oh Lord…what is she doing? Things went from bad to worse as Merry joined the woman. Ella did a double-take. The lady who was turning in circles with Merry was her next-door neighbor. Oh dear. Ella had a stinking suspicion they had been tipping the wine for Holy Communion. Why else would they be dancing? She looked around to see if anyone else noticed. No one else seemed to be concerned. What was this world coming to? Ella looked forward. Things certainly had changed since Pastors Mark and Jessi had come to shepherd their little church. Most were good changes. Some of it was kind of weird. Oh well, she wasn’t going to find a new church now. She’d live with it.

  The worship leader was going full force now and everyone, well almost everyone, seemed to be enjoying themselves. Some people were raising their hands. Some were clapping and some were dancing. And some people just watched.

  Ella listened as Pastor Mark got up and preached about the body of Christ being one body. Lord, I can’t be the ears, 'cause I can’t hear very well any more. And Lord, you know I’m not the eyes. I can’t see up close and I can’t see far away. My knees aren’t too good and my bones ache. My teeth are borrowed; they come out each night and go back into place every morning. My hair is thinning and my skin is sagging. I know what I am. I must be the derriere. That is the only thing that seems to still be in place. In fact, I think it’s grown in the past few years. Lord, what does the bottom side do?