Devotion (20 page)

Worst of all, everything that had happened to her and Kellen came from the inside out. Just like tonight’s readings indicated.

In preparation for prayer, Tim took her hand from the left. Wanda Samuels, a delightful retiree still spry of mind and spirit, claimed Juliet’s right.

“I need for us to pray for my boss,” a prayer warrior began. “He was diagnosed this week with prostate cancer, and he’s going in for surgery. He’s got young children, and he’s so scared. He’s always been healthy and strong. He needs to be uplifted.”

Murmurs of prayer and encouragement ran a line through the group. Juliet fidgeted, shifting restlessly in her chair. Her hand remained warmly held by Tim. She didn’t like how good it felt.

Where two or more are gathered in My name, there am I in their midst. Open your heart and see Me, precious Juliet. Come to Me broken and I will restore you.

Not here, Father! Not now!
Juliet railed in silence. She kept her head low, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the whispers that slid across her soul.
Not in front of these holy people! I’m ashamed…

She longed to be open, to reveal the brokenness God saw, but she was terrified as well, so afraid of the ugliness and sin she bore.

Tim began to speak. “I have a dear friend who has a troubled heart—problems that are clouding her natural joy and enthusiasm—her zeal for life and service to the God she loves. I don’t know what the problems are. I don’t even care. I just pray for her to feel the touch of Your hand, Lord. Please provide Your comfort and peace as she sorts through whatever trouble life is sending her right now.”

Just like that, Tim’s prayer did the revealing for her. He spoke of her deliberately, and Juliet knew it. Warm moisture tracked down her cheeks. The slow but steady release of tears soothed in an almost supernatural way. She drained away as she came to the end of herself.

She tried to pull her hand away from Tim’s grasp, wanting to dry her eyes. He held on fast. A few droplets fell onto the table and Juliet panicked. Desperation returned now, and she yanked free of Wanda’s hold to slide the back of her hand against her cheeks. Her head still bent, she sniffled, and a soft, uncontrolled sound flowed from her lips, straight from the depths of her heart.

The table focused on her, and Juliet felt herself sink into their loving concern. The comfort they longed to give wouldn’t be denied—not even by her sense of shame and inadequacy. One by one they came to her, a circle of silent prayer support and love, an uplifting tribe of Christian witnesses.

She broke then. It couldn’t be stopped. She dissolved into silent sobs. No one asked questions. Not one person pushed for more than she could provide at the moment. Rather, they simply prayed and rested warm loving hands upon her shoulders.

Pastor Gene was the only one to speak. “We don’t need details, Jesus. You know them all, and You are already performing Your great and powerful works. We ask only for Your comfort to rain down upon Juliet. Bring her Your loving presence, Your peace and grace in whatever it is she faces. In Your precious name we pray.”

The chorus of “Amen” sang through Juliet’s very being.

****

“Let me get that for you.” Juliet remained seated at the conference table, not responding to Tim’s offer. He stood and reached across her to grab a used paper plate, a nearby napkin, and her now empty beverage cup.

Would you please stop being so nice to me? Would you please stop getting in the way? I can’t cope with kindness right now.
She felt like screaming.

The thing was, Tim
knew
that. From the beginning, he had sensed her rage, and sadness, and heartbreak. That’s what bothered her most of all. She wanted to just roll up her life and stuff it away, or at least allow herself to vanish from view until she sorted out this whole unseemly mess. Especially around a man like Tim, who always struck her as being so grounded and spirit-filled.

So, she sat in sullen confusion, wanting to let him know she wasn’t exactly happy about his intrusiveness. Rather than keep her feelings bottled up, she glanced around the room, to verify they were alone, and then she stood up briskly, setting a fisted hand on her hip. “That was incredibly difficult, Tim. And, I wish you would have let go of my hand.”

Tim shrugged that off and continued to pick up debris. “Life’s not easy. Plus, we were praying, and emotion is a part of prayer. Why is it OK for everyone else to need prayer—and react to the power of prayer—except you?”

Juliet glared at him, even though he couldn’t see it, moving through the room the way he did. She was still so riled and unsettled she couldn’t think straight. Meanwhile, Tim remained steady and sure, and he turned at last to look deep into her eyes. Silence fell for a bit.

“On top of which, you know, and you’ve seen, that most times it’s best to just let the tears fall. Let them have their way. Doing so brings us closer to healing. Have you lost sight of that?”

Juliet could find no suitable response to that comment. He was right. There were no means by which to justify the way she had recoiled from being revealed—to Tim or anyone else who had gathered around the prayer table tonight.

“You’re heartbroken, Jules. Like I said, I don’t know the details. I don’t have to if that’s not what you want, but finding release from what you’re troubled by, even if it’s through tears, is necessary to your well-being.” His voice came to her low and gentle, reassuringly kind. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. The gesture stirred warmth against her chilled skin. “I’m a psychologist, so I know these things.”

Juliet gathered herself, looking at a spot over his shoulder instead of his penetrating, knowing gaze.

“Do you have to get right home?” For the first time since the group broke up, he seemed a bit uncertain, yet determined. “Would you be interested in getting a cup of coffee?” Seeming to read her doubtful reaction, he lifted his hands. “There’s nothing to worry about here. I’m talking about a wide-open, public place, lots of people. We could just talk.”

His warm demeanor touched her heart all over again. She wanted to open up, to share the burden she carried. He was a psychologist, after all, as well as a fairly objective outsider to her life. This church-fostered friendship might be an answer to the ache, the longing in her heart that had led her to tears in the first place.

But by the same token, mixing socially with a man who wasn’t her husband—even in innocence—swirled with the same type of dangerous temptations that had tripped Kellen. Never could she allow herself to waltz along that same pathway. If she did, the damage would be irrevocable.

Still, an analysis between Tim’s calm steadiness and Kellen’s exciting charisma couldn’t help but be drawn. For the first time ever, she wondered about the benefits of a slow and easy day-to-day life. What would it be like to be married to a man less dynamic, but more life centering?

The answer came straight from her heart, in an instant of crystal clear revelation; because Kellen was the one she loved, and always would. Her soul had recognized its twin the instant God caused their paths to cross.

With that, she embraced the fact that a troubled marriage wasn’t something to discuss with Tim, be he a psychologist or not. God had used her friend powerfully, and beautifully tonight. In coping with Juliet’s greatest sorrow, Tim’s prayers had helped her find her faith and God’s hand once more. Now, she needed to get busy doing the work of finding a way back to the man of her heart, the one she loved. Kellen. To do that, she would need practical, trusted advice from an objective and uncomplicated source. She needed to find a way to rebuild herself without dangerous pathways stretching before her like Tim’s affection and ready care.

Tim Parkson wouldn’t—and couldn’t—be the answer. Gratitude filled her, just the same. His intervention had opened doorways, directing her heart and intentions toward what needed to come next. Counseling—with someone she could be revealed to completely. The first person who came to mind is the one who had led the subsequent prayers of intervention tonight--Pastor Gene.

For what had to be the hundredth time, the memory of Kellen’s voice rang through her mind as well.
We can’t work on our relationship if we’re not together, Juliet.

That much was true as well. Was he truly as remorseful as his letter had indicated? She needed to find out. Was the relationship with Chloe honestly finished? She cringed inwardly and her stomach bucked even considering the idea. That was another question she needed to have answered, because at this point she had no idea. She only knew she must return home full time, and do what she could to resuscitate her marriage. Doing so was the only way it would have a chance to survive.

The decision came to her easily now. Tomorrow she would pack everything that had made its way to Marlene and Peter’s house. Tomorrow she would tell Kellen she was coming home permanently.

Beyond that, Juliet also made plans to call Pastor Gene and set up a meeting…as soon as possible.

18

“I need to be up front with you, Kellen, and let you know I’ve started to counsel Juliet as well.”

“You have?”

Just moments ago, Kellen had begun his third counseling session with Pastor Gene. They sat side by side, in matching easy chairs at the pastoral offices of Trinity Christian. Kellen stopped short after Pastor Gene delivered the news.

“Beyond that, I want to assure you, as I’ve assured her, that anything you say here is strictly private and will never be shared. She’s aware that you and I are meeting as well.”

“Good. I’m glad she knows. I don’t want, or need, any information beyond that. We’re both trying. That’s all I need to give me hope.”

Pastor Gene’s smile dawned. “Very good. Remember what I told you from the start—the proof of Christian character is how we rise after we fall. I want you to keep that in mind as we move forward. It may sound like a simple platitude to say none of us is without sin, and that every single one of us fails, and every single one of us needs forgiveness, but it’s true. And you can be completely upfront. I don’t want to be a judge, I want to encourage and support. I’m a sinner, too, and I’ve made some horrendous mistakes. We all do. We all will.”

Kellen relaxed, crossing his legs and eying Pastor Gene. The church leader was just past middle-aged, with the kind features of a favorite father figure and a heart to match. Kellen felt good about being here, and being open. The disclaimers helped, sure, but in Pastor Gene’s company, he didn’t fear being condemned. Instead, he knew he was being offered a loving hand and objective ears.

“It’s good to have her back home,” Kellen offered, settling back in the chair.

“I’ll bet.”

“I know it takes tremendous trust on her part to even be under the same roof with me right now, but she’s trying, and that’s all I can expect.”

“I think the letter you wrote was a good idea.”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t said much about it. She’s so quiet, and so hesitant. I wish I could get some kind of an idea of what she wants. I wish I knew she still cares and still has feelings for me.”

“She’s back home, Kellen. That says something pretty strong. You’re not sharing a room, I assume.”

Kellen twitched with embarrassment but fought against its power. “We both agreed to that. I’m in the spare room across the hall, and that’s perfectly fine as we work things through. Really.”

Leaning forward, propping his elbows on his knees, Pastor Gene delivered a piercing look rife with understanding and compassion. “Kellen, I can feel how much you want things back. You’re sincere and emphatic about saving your marriage, and that’s going to make all the difference. I hate to say give it time when that’s the last thing you probably want to hear, but…”

Kellen picked up the thread of that dangling sentence. “But it’s the truth. I know, I know.”

They shared a laugh. “Here’s something you might consider while you’re waiting.”

Kellen studied Pastor Gene in a meaningful silence.

“Don’t just use this time apart to focus on Juliet. Use this opportunity to search yourself as well. Are you as fulfilled, right here and right now, as you were just two or three years ago? If not, find out why. What wreaked havoc on your peace of mind, and your marriage, and your walk of faith that led you to this point?”

Guilt seasoned Kellen’s uneasy reaction to that question.

As though reading Kellen’s discomfort, Pastor Gene shook his head. “I’m not talking about Chloe here. I’m talking about getting rid of what led you and Juliet to this crisis point to begin with. Think of it as getting rid of the garbage. It makes room for treasure, Kellen. What do you treasure? In the deepest part of yourself, what do you want your life to be? Figure that out and the rest will follow.”

The questions formed an interesting challenge to take home and think about.

“Be thoughtful about it, and take care, but don’t be afraid to raise those issues with Juliet as well. Right now, your instinct is to treat her with kid gloves because of what’s happened. That’s understandable, and the correct instinct. But don’t be afraid to talk to her and initiate a frank—maybe even blunt—discussion. At some point during the coming week, before we meet again, make an opportunity to sit down with Juliet and talk to her about what she’s feeling.”

Kellen stood fast and shook his head. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he paced to a nearby window. Just beyond, tree leaves danced in a humid breeze. Sun beat down and the sky was a blinding blue. “I’m not so sure about that, Pastor Gene. Not yet, anyway. She’s not really in a place where she wants to talk.”

“Regardless, that’s my challenge to you. And you’re right, it might go well, or it might not. Your first conversations about getting back to where you were are bound to have some painful growth spurts, but they’re also necessary.” He grinned. “Sorry. I’m not letting you skip out on that one.”

Kellen groaned, already dreading the idea.