Rita’s whole being radiated as she burst into Jim’s office. “Stand up, honey!” she demanded. “I want to hug you!” Jim complied, curious.
“Oh, Jim,” she whispered, holding him tightly, “my heart is full.”
“Yeah?” he responded gently. He started to disengage from the embrace, but Rita clung tightly.
“Just hold me. I want to remember this moment.” She looked at him. “I love you so much.”
They stayed locked in their embrace. Jim could feel wetness on the shoulder of his shirt, and he knew Rita was crying softly.
After another moment, Rita loosened her hug. “Could we go for a drive?”
“Sure, honey.”
“You’re probably working on your sermon for tomorrow, but I need to talk with you—just by ourselves—no interruptions.”
Jim smiled. “I can pinch hit a sermon tomorrow, honey. We have all afternoon if you want. But I haven’t had lunch yet, so could we fit that into our plans?”
“Oh, yes.” Rita hugged him again, deep sincerity in her eyes as she said, “Thank you, Jim.”
Once they were in the car and driving down Largo, Jim asked what was on her mind.
“Oh, so much, honey.” She looked out the window. “I think it might be better if we just parked somewhere.”
“Parked?” Jim’s smile was playful. “Don’t you want to wait until dark?”
“No, honey, I don’t want to wait.” There was a smile of intimacy on her face. “So find a place that’s private!”
“Ohhh-kay!”
They ended up at the far edge of an empty lot overlooking a park with a pond.
“How’s this?”
“Perfect.”
“So…what’s on you mind? Or do you just wanna make out?”
“Oh, Jim, I hardly know where to start.”
“Start right here,” Jim answered, leaning over and pointing to his lips with his left index finger while pulling Rita close with his right arm.
After they kissed, Jim looked at Rita, still holding her close. “Now I think I can handle anything you have to tell me.”
“Good! Because it’s a lot.”
“Yeah?” Jim was really curious now. “Where’ve you been this morning?”
“I met Nancy Herring for coffee.”
“I’m proud of you, honey. You’ve really turned things around in that relationship.”
“No, Jim. I haven’t turned things around. God has. And it was Nancy—and Carla Chadwell—who initiated it. Actually, Nancy’s always been my friend, even though I’ve been really ugly to her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh…just things at work. But that’s all taken care of. The important thing is that she’s a friend I thoroughly trust.” Rita looked out the window into the distance, then turned back to face her husband. She smiled apologetically. “This morning I confided in Nancy.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Confessed. I told her something about my past that I’ve not even shared with you.”
Jim frowned, obviously curious, and Rita continued. “This cancer has caused me to do a lot of soul-searching…but it’s turned into God-searching. I’ve been studying the Bible, Jim, and I’m seeing how important it is to start doing and saying—even thinking—like God’s people are supposed to. One of the key things, I’ve concluded, is confessing our sins. Well, every time I pondered that, Nancy’s face would come to my mind.” She sighed, turning again to her husband. “So I called her, and I confessed.”
“Confessed what?”
“That I’ve had an abortion—that I’ve had…two abortions.”
Jim just looked at Rita.
“I know I should have told you, honey, way back then. I think I was scared you’d have second thoughts about me, and I was crazy about you. But it was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Jim’s lips curved slowly in a half-smile. “I didn’t think you were ever going to tell me.”
“What?”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “I remember like it was yesterday when we went into that clinic. You weren’t nearly as…timid, I guess I would say, as I expected you to be; so I suspected you had been through it before, but I couldn’t very well ask you. Besides, it wouldn’t have—it didn’t—affect my feelings for you.” He grinned. “You have to remember I was crazy about you, too.”
Rita just looked at him, astonished.
“But I’m glad you finally told me, even though you didn’t have to. I’m just not sure why you felt you had to tell anybody else. It’s no one else’s business.” He looked at his wife, his attitude of assurance quickly replacing his first negative reaction. “If you know Nancy won’t blab, it’s no big deal, though.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Shall we get some lunch?”
“Not just yet.” There was a troubled look on Rita’s face.
Jim pulled out the key and looked at his wife. “You have more to unload?”
“I do, Jim.” Rita looked at him with an expression on her face that indicated she wasn’t sure how to proceed. “When Dr. Benesta first told me I had breast cancer, I was really scared. I’d never been in such a hard place. I tried to pray, but fear just gripped me. No matter how much support I had—from you and the kids, from our folks, from the church… it was still just me, just myself going through that valley.
“I remember that second day, I got to thinking about the twenty-third Psalm and decided to read it. Then I started reading other psalms. Whenever fear came knocking on my mind those first long days, I’d sit down and read a bunch of psalms until the fear subsided.”
“You never told me you were reading the Bible.”
“No, I didn’t tell anyone.” She shook her head and then nodded, pensively. “But it sure helped me. In fact,” she added, “I actually memorized three Psalms so I could have them during the night while I lay there awake.”
“Memorized them?” Jim was obviously impressed. “Which ones?”
Psalm one, fifty-one, and ninety-one.”
“Wow.”
“Memorizing them allowed me to meditate on them. That was a big part of David’s life, don’t you think—meditating on God’s law?”
“I suppose,” Jim replied. Then he smiled, light-heartedly. “I’ll take you to Paris if you memorize Psalm 119.”
Rita’s eyes begged an explanation.
Jim grinned. “It’s the longest chapter in the Bible.”
As if a light bulb had lit up in her head, Rita responded. “Oh, yes. I know. I studied that one. I just didn’t remember the number.” She smiled at Jim. “Do you know that almost every verse in that entire chapter is about how wonderful God’s commandments and laws are?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Check it out, Pastor.” She smiled, a teasing look on her face.
But Jim’s reply was skeptical. “What’s with this Bible studying? My wife isn’t turning into a Bible thumper, is she?”
“No, I don’t think so. But I’m doing some serious rethinking on some key issues in my life.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the abortions.”
“The abortions?”
“Mm-hmm.”
There was a grimace on Jim’s face. “Rita, cancer shouldn’t put you on a guilt trip.”
“It hasn’t. Well, yes, it has, actually. But the guilt trip has brought me to a desire to know God, and that can’t be all bad.” She bent her head, smiling, a challenging look on her face. “I think I’m on my way to Paris. I’ve actually memorized one verse of Psalm 119. Do you want to hear it?” Before her husband could reply, Rita recited the verse with only a little hesitation. “Give me understanding, and I will keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart.”
Jim turned to look at Rita in surprise. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“God is giving me understanding that I didn’t have before, Jim, and He’s brought me to a point, by His grace, that I need to discuss with you. I am truly sorry about my abortions. I took the lives of my first and second children, Jim, and I am sorry.”
Jim stared at his wife for a long moment. Then he faced forward, putting the key into the ignition, sighing loudly as he did so. The expression on his face was as if he’d just taken on a huge burden, and his lips were set as he started the car. “Let’s get some lunch. I need to get back.”
Rita knew to drop the subject.
……….
Midge Ferguson was on her way home from Central, in a very good mood. It was a gorgeous Friday morning, and she had just finished her finals. Flowers were blooming everywhere, and the air was still cool and totally exhilarating. She took a deep breath, thrilled to be alive and with an utter peace in her soul. Nicky was safe and sound—so cute and bright, and the Mackeys were so happy. They were perfect adoptive parents. The last two years hadn’t been easy, but Midge had survived them and, all in all, felt none the worse for the wear.
She carried a longing in her heart to be with Nicky, of course, but it was wrapped in wonderful hope and expectancy. She truly trusted God to take care of him throughout his life. There would be eighteen years at home with the Mackeys and then four years at some university—or maybe in the service, or maybe two years at a trade school. Then he’d get a job, get married, have children.
She stopped suddenly. “Wait a minute,” she thought. “What if he gets a girl pregnant? Ooh. Ouch.” That would be a detour. Happy as she was right at this very time in her life, she didn’t want Nicky to follow in these particular steps of his dad.
“Please, God,” she prayed as she resumed walking. “Let the Mackeys raise little Nicky according to your plan. No matter what, please help him, God, so he can avoid hard places.”
Midge had arrived home. She unlocked the door and entered the kitchen. She had the house all to herself, and she smiled with anticipation of spending some time writing. It was while she was preparing a snack that Nick’s parents suddenly entered her mind and her sunny spirits turned cloudy.
“Oh, God,” she protested, “not now.”
There’s no time like the present.
Midge was contemplating this trite phrase when another thought followed immediately.
It’s not trite. Your bitterness towards the Brommers comes between you and Me. Do you want that?
“I didn’t realize it was coming between You and me,” Midge responded in her spirit.
And that’s why I just told you. Not always will you know when there’s something in the way. My grace is sufficient to tell you, when I know You really want Me Lord of your life.
Midge sighed, went upstairs to her desk, and took out a piece of monogrammed stationery. Coming back to the kitchen, she poured her tea and sat down at the table. By the time she’d written and signed the letter, her spirits were sunny again.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Brommer,
It’s Friday morning and lovely outside. I’m looking forward to attending the university and studying writing. I occasionally find time to write just for pleasure. In fact, that was my intention right now; however, I need to take a few minutes to write to you.
Your son Nick is a wonderful guy. I’m glad he’s the father of the little one I carried nine months. As I’m sure Nick has told you, the baby has amazing adoptive parents who love their little boy immeasurably. I love him, too. He is darling, and I think he’ll grow up looking a lot like Nick. In fact, I think of him as “Nicky.”
I’m sure you’re curious as to the purpose of this letter. It is to apologize. I confess I have harbored bitterness toward the two of you because you wanted me to have an abortion after you learned from Nick that I was pregnant.
I know you had many reasons, but you could not possibly understand how glad I am that I did not abort precious little Nicky. It was a difficult nine months in so many ways; but in so many more ways, as I look back on it, it was a beautiful time in my life. It was a time that helped me become so appreciative of my parents’ love and compassion, and a time in which I acquired an unshakeable confidence in the goodness of God. In fact, it is at His imperial nudge that I am writing to ask you to forgive the resentment I’ve had towards you.
How could anyone have known that such a crisis—such a problem—could end up a blessing to so many people? A friend told me that God does work out situations beautifully when we commit them to Him. I believe it.”
Yes, Nicky is truly a blessing already to all who know him—and he’s not even two! Think of all the people who will be positively impacted by his life through the next ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty—perhaps even ninety years.
Please forgive my past bitterness. I am praying that the two of you will have the great privilege of meeting your grandson one day.
Sincerely,
Midge Ferguson