Forever Blessed (Women of Prayer) (6 page)

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.