Authors: Janice Thompson
“And I have a feeling he’ll restore your body too,” Twila added. “If you get the rest and nutrition you need.”
I felt the sting of tears and brushed them away. “Do … do you ever feel like you have to work overtime to prove yourself? Like, maybe people won’t see your value or worth unless you prove yourself to them?” My heart began to pound at this confession, and I could feel my blood pressure rising. Still, it was worth it to get this off my chest.
“I think we’ve all felt that way at times,” Earline said. “But I have a feeling you’re getting to something specific.”
I paused, willing the lump in my throat to go away. If I opened this can of worms, there might be no turning back. Oh, but how I needed to!
When I finally spoke, my words were shaky. Broken. Like me. “All of my life, I’ve wanted to feel needed, to feel like I had something to contribute.” I paused, hoping my mother wouldn’t take this the wrong way. “In a family the size of mine, especially when you’re a middle child like I am, you sometimes feel a little …”
“Overlooked?” Twila, Bonnie Sue, and Jolene said in unison.
I shrugged. “I guess that would be the word, though I’m really thinking more along the lines of feeling like I don’t have as much to offer. I was a lousy waitress at Parma John’s. I think we’ve established that. And I wasn’t very good at cheerleading in high school. I was always one of those people who had to work twice as hard to do something even moderately well.”
“Oh, but Bella,” Mama said, “don’t you see? You’ve done wonders with the wedding facility. Brought in a whole new clientele. You took our family business—which was struggling at best—and turned it into a five-star wedding facility.”
“We’ve even been on the Food Network,” Rosa threw in.
I laughed. “I can’t take the credit for that one, Rosa. That was your gig.”
“Still.” She waved her hand. “Bella, you’re exactly the right person for this job.”
“And God knew it all along,” Mama added. “You’ve got nothing to prove—to us or anyone else.”
“If not for you, I wouldn’t be married right now,” Rosa said with a nod. “You pulled off the wedding of the century, Bella.”
“I daresay we’re all happy,” Twila said with a grin. “And you’ve played a role in that. You listened to the Lord. You put legs underneath the wedding facility, and now people’s lives are being transformed.”
“Still, there’s this part of me—way down deep—that feels like I have to work harder to feel valuable. Isn’t that … silly?”
“It’s normal,” Earline said. “And it’s something we all struggle with, if we’re honest with ourselves. But honey, you’ve got to remember that your worth isn’t found in anything you do. Even if you didn’t succeed as a wedding planner—which I can’t imagine, by the way—you would still be valuable to God. You never have to work overtime to prove yourself to him. Never. He loves you just as you are. No strings attached.”
I sighed and leaned back against my pillow.
“Why not let him spend a couple of days convincing you of that?” Twila asked. “A few hours in his presence will be just the ticket to heal both body and soul.”
“It’s just that the timing of all this really stinks,” I said. “I’m getting married on Saturday, and I can’t even coordinate my own wedding.”
“You don’t have to, honey,” Mama said. “This is the time to delegate.”
“What?”
Delegate?
“Give me a job,” Twila said. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Jolene added. “I’m pretty good with flowers. Want me to take a shot at those wedding bouquets? I heard Marcella’s out of the loop.”
“And I’m a whiz on the computer,” Bonnie Sue said with a nod. “D.J. tells me you need someone to finalize the programs and then print them up.”
“Well, that’s really nice of you, but …” I couldn’t think of anything to add after the “but.” I’d always been the go-to girl, the one in charge. Was the Lord really asking me to hand over my wedding to the women in my life? Did he want some one-on-one time with me during this very critical week? If so, would I—could I—cooperate?
“Bella, we’ve got the reception food under control,” Rosa said. “Bubba and Jenna have already said they will do anything we ask. And you know I’m on the ball when it comes to the cake. I can’t wait.”
“You’re all so great.” I sighed, realizing just how many wonderful people God had placed in my life. Surely he knew just how desperately I needed them all—not just this week, but always.
“You know I’m going to whip that reception hall into shape,” Mama said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, and I love to decorate. I’ll help with that,” Bonnie Sue added.
On and on they went, talking about the various roles they were going to play in my wedding. After a while I stopped arguing and just listened. Sounded like they were going to give me the wedding of my dreams … and I wouldn’t have to do anything but show up. Was such a thing really possible?
Peace wrapped me in its cozy embrace, and I relaxed. For once, I didn’t have to be the one in charge.
What would that feel like?
The automatic blood pressure machine kicked in, puffing up around my arm. I rested easy, listening to the ladies talk, but happened to glance over when the machine released its grip: 125/88. Interesting.
My eyes grew heavy, but the words Earline had quoted earlier ran through my brain.
He makes me lie down in green
pastures. He leads me beside the still waters.
If I closed my eyes, I could almost see those green pastures now.
I spent the next couple of days in the hospital, taking and retaking tests. Instead of fighting the process, I gave myself over to it, happy to finally get the rest I’d been lacking over the prior weeks. By the third day, I had the entire twenty-third psalm memorized, and I replayed the words in my head a dozen times a day, at least. I could feel the effects on both my body and my mind. My thoughts—usually in a whirlwind— finally calmed down.
In the quieter moments, I found myself humming “Amazing Grace” and wondering what Guido was up to. I missed the little guy. Missed his ever-present reminder that God’s grace truly was amazing, and that people—and birds—could be transformed.
On Thursday morning, the doctor came for a visit.
“Bella.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to my bed with his clipboard in hand. “All of your results are in.”
“Oh?” I’d been waiting for this moment for days.
“The echocardiogram was clear,” he said with a smile. “No sign of heart disease.”
Praise the Lord!
“The stress test was negative too. Thyroid tests were normal.” He looked up from his papers. “This is all very good news, young lady.”
“No kidding.” Relief washed over me. “So, what’s wrong with me?”
He thumbed through the pages once again. “Well, your blood pressure was too high, but your blood sugar was too low. I think we’ve already established that could be dietrelated. From what I hear, you’ve been eating like a champ since you got here. Yesterday’s blood work showed that your blood sugar is back up in the normal range. And here’s the kicker. Your blood pressure is back in the normal range too. The meds are helping, but so is the rest.”
“I’m learning how to rest.” I offered a weak smile after those words, hoping they made sense to him. “It’s like a job for me. I’m in training.”
“I know what it is to run yourself ragged,” he said. “Trust me. But I also know there’s only so much the body can take before you finally crater. Rest is good. Balancing your work hours against times of relaxation is critical.”
“So, what’s my official diagnosis?” I asked. “What do I tell people when they ask why I was in the hospital?”
“You tell them you needed a break.” He smiled. “But if you’re looking for an official diagnosis—other than the low blood sugar—I would have to say that you’ve been struggling from a classic case of anxiety. Stress, which led to the hypertension.”
I sighed. For this, I had to pay thousands of dollars in medical bills?
The doctor released me from the hospital that same morning. I’d never been so happy to leave a place in my life. Well, other than that one night I’d spent in jail. Still, there was a small part of me that had enjoyed my “green pastures” time while it lasted. Who got to lounge around in bed all day and have people bring her food, after all?
D.J. came to pick me up, and we stopped off at Marcella’s room on our way. As I came through the door, she offered a smile.
“You’re up and running again, I see,” she said.
“Up, but not running. From now on, everything slows down for me. No more burning the candle at both ends. It was taking a toll on my body.”
“I hear ya.” She sighed. “I’m guilty of the same thing.” Marcella paused for a minute, putting her hand on her stomach. “Oh, that was a hard one.”
“W-what?”
She pointed to the monitor, and I gasped as I saw the contraction show up on-screen.
“You’re in labor?”
From behind me, I heard D.J. let out a little gasp. I turned with a smile, surprised to see how pale he looked. Stifling a grin, I turned back to Marcella.
“It started about an hour ago,” she said. “I just called Nick. The doctor said he could try to stop it, but at this point they’re pretty sure Anna Rosa’s lungs are developed enough to do okay.”
“Wait. Anna Rosa? Is that what you’re naming the baby?” “Mm-hmm.” Marcella smiled. “Anna after my grandmother. And Rosa after, well, Rosa.”
“Does she know?”
Marcella shook her head. “No. It’s going to be a surprise.
But I don’t mind telling you. You’ve already proven that you can be trusted with secrets.”
“You know you can trust me,” D.J. said.
“But, is the fact that you’re in labor a secret, or should I call Mama?” I asked.
“I already did. Called my mother too. They should both be here soon. I would ask you to stick around, but you’ve got a wedding to plan.” She grinned, then gripped her tummy once more. “Oh, wow. They’re getting stronger.”
When she finally stopped panting, I put my purse and bag on the windowsill and took a seat in the rocker at the foot of her bed. “You know what, Marcella? I can stay right here with you. The wedding … well, from what I hear, it’s under control. The women …” I looked at D.J. and smiled. “Well, the women and this awesome fiancé of mine swept in and took the reins. If I go home, there won’t be much to do but sit around and eat bonbons. I can assure you, Mama won’t let me work.”
“Mmm. Bonbons sound pretty good right about now.”
“I know, right?”
We both laughed.
Minutes later, the room came alive with people. Both families— ours and Marcella’s—flooded in. By 1:00 Marcella had dilated to seven centimeters. D.J., Joey, Pop, and Sal went down the hall to the waiting area. The women stayed in the room for as long as the doctor would allow us to. Nick paced back and forth, the typical worried papa.
At 4:00 little Anna Rosa made her entrance into the world, screaming all the way. She was born with a full shock of dark hair and the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen. We celebrated with tears and laughter at the new arrival, and the room filled with people once again, each there to offer joyous tidings.
Oh, how I loved this family! We loved with passion. We celebrated with passion. We looked at life with passion. And we welcomed new members with equally as much passion.
By 4:30 my passion was waning. Exhaustion set in. D.J. offered to drive me home, and I quickly accepted. He pointed the car toward the Rossi home, but then took an unexpected turn off Broadway onto a side street.
“What are you doing?” I looked his way, trying to make sense of this.
“Oh, just needed to make a stop. Sorry.”
“Oh, okay.”
He took another turn, which brought us to a tree-lined street. I’d been down it many times over the years, but I didn’t remember the house in front of us now. It was a soft blue Victorian with a wide porch and broad windows.
“D.J.?” I looked at him, realization setting in. “Is this …”
He looked my way, his eyes filled with tears. “Do you still have that key I gave you on Christmas Day?”
“I … I think so.” Scrambling around in my purse, I finally came up with it. I held it up in the air, and he grinned.
“You’re gonna need that, Bella Bambina.”
Suddenly, I could hardly move fast enough. I scrambled out of the cab and practically ran to the front door. But when I got to the porch, I stopped, taking in the wonder of it all. The porch swing caught my eye at once, as did the pristine white railings surrounding the porch. And the windows! They were spectacular.
D.J. gestured for me to use the key in the door, which I did. My first step inside took my breath away.
“Oh, D.J.!” The expansive foyer had ceilings ten feet high at least. Maybe higher. And the stained-glass piece in the front door was breathtaking. Not to mention the polished wood floors. “How in the world did you …” I couldn’t finish the sentence over the lump in my throat. I wanted to take in the rest, but the tears in my eyes prevented me from seeing everything at once.
First he showed me the downstairs powder room just off the foyer. I especially loved the pedestal sink and the mirror above it. Next D.J. showed me the dining room—a large expanse of a room with the biggest table I’d ever seen, next to the one at my parents’ house, of course. I shook my head, unable to speak. We rounded the corner into the living room completely decked out with Mediterranean furniture.
“How did you know that I wanted …” Again I couldn’t say the rest because of the catch in my throat.
“I’ve been paying attention to everything you’ve ever said about home decor, Bella,” he said. “Right down to colors and styles. I hope you like it.”
Like it? I loved it! But how—and when—did he accomplish this? He must’ve worked through the night for weeks to get this done so quickly.
We turned down a small hall, finally landing in the kitchen. It took my breath away. There was a large island in the center, and the tiled backsplash was perfect. Very Italian.
“I actually have a real Italian kitchen,” I said with awe. “Now I just have to figure out what to do in it.”