Rain Dance (27 page)

While the baby’s parents greeted and quieted him, I applauded myself in my mind.
No tears Jonica—way to go.

I had done better than I’d expected as my friend’s cramps turned to crushing pain. I even did fine when I saw the baby born amid a flow of blood and fluid. I didn’t flinch as I watched Mike cut the cord. Seeing him in his mother’s arms brought unexplainable joy.

“What’s his name?” the nurse asked.

“Jonathan,” his parents said in unison.

“After his Aunt Jonica.” Stacie handed her son to his dad.

I looked at them both and did what I do so well. I cried.

“Do you want to hold him?” Mike asked.

“I do.”

As he handed me his son, I heard Stacie say, “Jonathan, meet your Aunt Jonica. She is going to teach you Bible verses and all about God. She will make you laugh, and you will be surprised at the ways she makes friends. You are going to love her very much.”

The afterbirth came and Stacie’s clean up happened quickly. Dr. Steele complimented us all on a job well done, then said a quiet goodbye.

Mike mentioned going to call their parents and I asked him to call Ben too. “Please tell him it’s time to come and get me.”

“Here you go, sweet boy, back to your mommy so I can blow my nose.”

Admiring Stacie as she held Jonathan, I muttered, “I’m tired—and you did all the work.”

“This wasn’t as bad as the abortion,” Stacie said her eyes focused on the little boy in her arms.

“The abortion hurt?”

“More than I expected physically. But my heart shattered. Physical pain is bearable after that.”

Now tears rolled down both our faces as we gazed in awe at Jonathan.

“I don’t deserve him after what I did. He should be yours.”

“No. Stacie, your son comes to you as a special gift from God.”

“Why don’t you get to have kids? I can hardly stand it.”

“I don’t know why. I do know that whatever God wills is His very best for me. I choose to believe and trust.”

“I’m overwhelmed. Every molecule in my body loves this baby and misses the other one.”

“God understands. He saw His Son born, and then crucified. He knows your joy and grief.”

“Can you do me a favor before Mike gets back? In my bag is the Bible you gave me. Would you get it out and put it here under my covers? I’ll read it later.”

I noticed how worn the book looked as I slid it under the sheet.

Mike came back with Ben right behind him. My husband confessed he’d hurried to the waiting room after he got my call.

“I just wanted to be nearby.”

When I handed the newborn to my smiling husband, Mike said, “Jonathan, meet your Uncle Ben.”

Ben’s eyes met Mike’s. “Stacie and I want to adopt you two as our family, making you his honorary aunt and uncle.”

Ben reached out and shook Mike’s hand. “We’d be delighted,” he said in the same way he’d said “I do” at our wedding.

The nurse came back, and Jonathan decided it was time for nourishment. I stood beside Stacie and we took a long look together as her son suckled at her breast.

“Wow,” I whispered. He’s beautiful.”

“I love you, Jonica.” Stacie said.

“I love you too.”

Stacie

I figured the baby’s arrival would fall on the day set by the professionals. But a week before my official due date, a backache and cramps bothered me for a few hours then eased off in the middle of the night.

I woke up feeling strangely refreshed and energetic. I called my parents, stopped by the office, dropped off a new baseball cap for Stevie, and talked to Hope. I ordered some flowers and had the florist deliver the T-shirt Mike had ordered for Jonica. Still feeling restless, I went over to see her.

While we visited, a pull and pressure across my abdomen made it feel good to stand up. I thought my body was stretching again to give my growing boy more room. Then the first big contraction hit, and I noticed some moisture.

At the hospital, everyone did their thing as my body prepared to deliver my baby. As the pain increased I heard Mike encouraging me to breathe, savored the ice chips Jonica slid into my mouth, and was grateful for the coolness of a cloth pressed gently on my forehead. As I breathed and willed myself to make it through each contraction, the sounds, sights, and feelings were all there, but the pain blurred them, and I retreated into myself. I didn’t deserve to cry out. I’d stilled my first baby’s cries, so I wouldn’t allow myself the privilege. I was determined to bear the pain in silence.

I continued to think about my children. The one I aborted—my first, but not born—and the one struggling to get out of my body—my firstborn. One my sorrow—the other my joy. One my shame—the other my pride.

Eventually, the pains became no longer separate spasms, but one long crashing wave. You earned this, I chided myself internally.

Then, with a hard push he arrived. The doctor held the baby while Mike cut the cord. An enormous love washed over me. My vision cleared, my skin tingled with life, and tears of gladness ran unchecked and cool on my warm cheeks. My womb emptied and my heart filled.

I basked in Mike’s joy, Jonica’s warm response to his name, and the baby’s sleepy contentment in my arms. As suddenly as the happiness came, it vanished. My arms and heart, so full of a little boy named Jonathan, ached for another.

Will
nothing fill the void?

Looking into the sweet face of my son, I also wondered how the God Jonica believed in could give me a child after what I’d done. Then I watched her holding Jonathan and felt a searing loss for her.

If this God of hers is love, what is going on here? Why me and not her?

As this inner battle raged, I knew it was time to review what I now called my Jesus Case. Jonica lived as though He was real, someone she knew and who knew and loved her.

I decided that later I would read the chapters again. Then I told Jonica I loved her. It was that kind of moment.

After she and Ben left, Jonathan nursed then slept in his Isolette. Mike made all the calls, then fell asleep on the cot next to my bed. His gentle snores comforted me, as did Jonathan’s hushed breathing.

With the reading light on, I took the leather book from under my covers. Pulling on the ribbon marker, I opened it and read about Jesus again. I let the writer re-introduce me to the women who interacted with Him. He treated each one with respect and dignity. Where had I gotten the idea He hadn’t?

I read about being born again because of God’s love. My heart beat a wild unsteady rhythm when I got to where they crucified Him. His mother watched. I ached for her. Her son! My sweet boy puckered his lips in his sleep. Hers gave her to another to be cared for before His anguished cry, “It is finished.”

I turned back to chapter three and reread Jesus’ words to Nicodemus: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.”

I understood the man of the law asking tough questions. I was impressed that he sought out the source of the local controversy. I knew Nicodemus didn’t show up in the story again until it was time to bury the rabbi he’d cross-examined.

I also couldn’t get the experience of the lawyer Paul out of my mind. From persecutor to preacher. Maybe the leap wasn’t as far as I’d once imagined.

I again considered Jonica’s challenge. As His lawyer, how would I have pleaded his case before Pontius Pilate and Herod? I found them both to be unethical politicians who listened to the fervor of the crowd instead of the wisdom of the law. Because of their weakness, Jesus received the death penalty.

I knew beyond a reasonable doubt Jesus was innocent of all the charges. No matter how I looked at it, the trial was a travesty of justice.

Turning back to the passage about the crucifixion, I read about the disciple Jesus loved; the one who had rested his head on Jesus’ breast at the Last Supper. I wondered what it felt like to have God love you in person like that. And then the truth crashed into my mind.

I not only believed what the Bible said about Jesus. I believed
in
Him.

God, I put Your Word to the test. I came to You like Nicodemus—having full confidence in the law. Somehow I believe
that
You love me in every way there is and some I don’t know about yet.

Tears flowed as I hugged the book to my chest.
I want to be born again, God—the way Jesus instructed Nicodemus. I don’t know all the right words, but
I
do know I’ve sinned. I don’t understand, but it’s true.
You can and do love a woman who chose abortion. I need and want your forgiveness. Oh God, I believe in You!
You sent Your Son to die for me, long before I was
born. Thank You!
Help me know You. Help me live for You the way Jonica does. Help me
to
represent you to my husband and son.

When I opened my eyes, the soft light in the room seemed to shine, not brighter, but clearer. My husband’s snores were like sweet music. My tiny son’s face was more beautiful. The baby lotion smelled rich and fragrant.

The gaping hole that had plagued me for so long had been filled. A love even bigger than the one I’d felt overtake me at Jonathan’s birth swept into my heart.

I love You, Jesus.

Chapter
24

Jonica

The next morning I walked into Stacie’s room and found her holding Jonathan and whispering secrets to him. She was radiant.

“Motherhood agrees with you.”

“Hi, Jonica. I need to move. Can you hold him for a minute?”

“Sure.” I snuggled the sleeping baby into me and kissed his downy head. “Welcome to the world, sleepy one.”

Each time a baby came into my life I wondered how I could possibly love so much and if there’d be room in my heart for the next one. Then sure enough—it happened again. I fell in love with someone else’s child.

I sat and rocked while Stacie paced. “So, what’s up?” I asked.

She stood in front of me. “Do you see it?”

“You look great.”

My answer didn’t satisfy my persistent friend. “But do I look different? Changed?”

“Your skin and eyes are glowing. You are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you, and your tummy is a lot smaller.”

Still not the right answer.
I’d never been given a pop quiz like this one, and I was failing big time.

“I feel changed. Different. Recharged. Energized. Can you see it?” she insisted.

“Is this a natural part of giving birth? Like the opposite of the baby blues—maybe the baby highs?”

“No. This is bigger. I made a new Friend last night.”

“Someone came to visit you?”

“I invited Someone to come in . . .”

I watched her in silence. I wanted to ask, but the words would not come.

“I considered the Jesus Case from every angle. I gave the leaders from all sides the benefit of the doubt. He was convicted and sentenced without a fair trial. Politics, fear and jealousy ruled over law and evidence. Over time, I’ve come to believe with all my heart and soul in His innocence. Even more important, I believe in Him. I had a Nicodemus kind of encounter. I told God I wanted to be born again. I’m forgiven, Joni, and I’m sure it shows. Please tell me it does.”

Her words washed over me like a warm summer rain. I got up from the rocker with care, put Jonathan in his crib, and turned to my friend. We joined hands and I looked deep into her eyes. Sparkles danced where shadows once lingered.

“There. I see it.”

“You do? What does it look like?”

“Like a woman in love with her Lord.”

We celebrated with a long hug, a few tears of joy, our first prayer together, and ice water in plastic cups.

Stephen Dunbar brought Stevie to visit and Stacie introduced us. The big boy had eyes only for the little one sleeping in the blue blanket. I watched him settle into the rocker, arms outstretched, as Stacie handed Jonathan to him.

Stevie kissed his nephew’s tiny cheek. “I’m going to be a really good Uncle. I love him a lot.”

I left them to this private moment. Back home, the phone rang.

It was Eve. “Jonica, does your church have a prayer chain?”

“We do.”

“My mother was the head of the one at our church for years. I hoped they still did this kind of thing today. Can you ask them to pray for me?”

“I have to confess something,” I said. “You’ve been in their prayers for weeks now. I only gave your first name, but when you announced your cancer, some of them realized they were praying for you. I hope you aren’t offended.”

“I’m not. Do they take updates?”

“Yes. What’s up?”

“I finished the treatments, and although the doctors are expecting a good result, I’m exhausted and I’m pretty sure that can’t be a good sign.”

“You sound scared.”

“I am. The waiting to know if I’m in remission is terrible. I want to live.”

“I’ll get the calls started right away.”

“I’m leaving to see Stacie and Jonathan now. Stephen is taking me to see our son later.”

“He’s beautiful, Eve. You’re going to fall in love.”

“With which one?”

“Both. And they are going to love you back.”

There was a moment of silence before she said, “How can you be so sure?”

“You’re worth their love.”

“I’d never go that far.” With that she hung up.

I notified the prayer leader and then got on my knees. After praying, I stood up amazed. A daughter had met God, and a mother moved toward Him. Could be another miracle in the making.

Stacie

After everyone left, I nursed Jonathan and settled into bed for a nap. When I woke up I thought I was dreaming. In the corner, Eve sat in the rocker, holding Jonathan, tears staining the front of her silk blouse. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and she was still there.