A Simple Faith: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel (26 page)

Haley bit her lower lip, not wanting to point to the elephant in the room. James was having trouble dealing with his paralysis. The
doctors did not completely rule out the chance that he would regain the use of his legs, but they had hoped for more progress at this point.

“James came away from the accident with an injury the rest of us did not suffer,” Dylan said. “I’m sure you can understand his anger over his loss.”

“But the bishop says it’s Gott’s will,” Rachel insisted. “It’s not ours to question.”

“And we won’t go against the bishop in this room,” Dylan said. “That’s not what we’re about. We’re here to be constructive, not destructive. I hope that James will join our sessions after he returns home. I’m heading over to the rehab center to see him tonight. I’ll try to help him arrange some transportation to get him to our sessions if he’s interested. Right now he needs to be in a wheelchair. That’s the reality.”

“But I pray that Gott will let him walk again,” Elsie said. Sweet, ever-hopeful Elsie.

“We’ll all pray for him,” George offered.

Rachel nodded. “I’ll tell him that.”

“James is going through a difficult time,” Dylan said. “After the physical and emotional trauma he’s gone through, that’s not unusual. Everyone here survived a traumatic accident that has the potential to leave lasting emotional scars. You’re here because you want to recover. And the guided imagery exercise that we’ll finish with is a powerful tool for alleviating that suffering.”

“I’ve got something good to report.” The love and acceptance on their faces made Haley appreciate the rare bond in this room. “I found out this week that my nursing grade is up to an A now. Before the accident, I was in danger of failing.”

“That’s wonderful good,” Rachel said. “But hard to believe a good nurse like you could be failing.”

“That part is a long story,” Haley said. “But I’ve always struggled
in school. Dyslexia and ADD. And after high school, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I tried a dozen different jobs, all failures. The thing is, I wasn’t sure what to do or where I belonged; but now I know. I belong in nursing.” She sighed. “After a lifetime of searching, I’m finally in the right place.”

“Another account of monumental progress,” Dylan said. “Wow. Some folks in this room had a very good week.” He talked about the effects of trauma on family members, and extended an invitation to family or friends who were still suffering post-traumatic stress.

Ruben shifted in his chair. “Can we do the guided imagery now?”

Dylan checked his watch. “Yes, we’d better get to that before everyone has to leave.” Dylan asked everyone to get comfortable in their chairs. “You may want to lean forward and rest your head and arms on the table. Let the chair and table support you gently, and then let your eyes glide closed.

“Now focus on your body. Take a full, deep breath, deep into your belly, and let the energy and comfort fill your lungs and abdomen. Then, as you breathe out, imagine that you’re releasing your pain and discomfort. Let it drift out through your nose and leave your body cleansed and refreshed.”

With a deep exhale, Haley imagined little barbs of tension and negative feelings rushing from the corners of her body and soaring out and rising high to blend with the deep blue of outer space, where they would not be a bother to any living thing.

Lulled by the sound of Dylan’s voice, she surrendered to the warm, loving light.

29

“
F
rom above you, thick, bold white clouds part and a shaft of light shines down on you. It is God’s love,” Dylan said, watching the body language of the group gathered around the table with their eyes closed. Generally, in that part of the session, he called the light “gentle energy” or a “positive glow”; but as far as he knew, everyone in this group was a believer, a Christian, and so he had changed the words to speak personally to this audience.

“God’s gentle light spills over your shoulders, warming and caressing you. Its glow enters your chest, illuminating your lungs and ribs, gently easing any tension around your heart.”

As he spoke, his gaze paused on George, whose gray pallor and trembling hands were warning signs. The man was in crisis. As soon as the session ended, Dylan was going to make a date to visit George at home, hoping to enlist his wife’s help in getting George into treatment. If the man didn’t want to be treated by Dylan, they could work together to find another therapist who would take the case
without charging. One way or another, Dylan was going to push George Dornbecker to get help.

The other unknown in the group was Haley. Was she a Christian? Dylan wasn’t sure, but so far she had not objected to his reference to God in the guided imagery. Ordinarily, as a therapist, he would ask her about her religious orientation. However, Dylan didn’t want to think of himself as her therapist.

That would preclude him from any personal involvement with her, and he wanted to be involved with her. In some ways, he already was. When he and Haley went to see James at the rehab center, when they shared a sandwich at the hospital or worked together with a patient, things clicked.

To be honest with himself, he was still working on his own issues, but he had spent years trying to lay his own ghosts to rest, and maybe it was time to man up and move on. That’s what Patrick had told him in his last few sessions, and his therapist was an intuitive guy.

And since Dylan had met Haley, he really wanted to move on. For the first time since he’d lost Kris, he had found another person who brought magic into his life. Haley could light up a room with a pop of brilliant color and honesty. He liked the way she put her personal stuff aside when someone else needed her. She was a helper. He appreciated the obstacles she had overcome to get into the nursing program. He loved the sound of her laugh, and sometimes he hated the fact that they worked together. If they were just friends, he could act on his impulse and kiss her. But as long as they were working together … that kind of relationship would be complicated.

When she had asked him about Valentine’s Day, he had wanted to laugh out loud. He’d thought of her that morning, when he’d noted the date. He’d even been tempted to send her flowers or candy … but he would have had to do it in secret, since they
weren’t a couple. And that had led him to ponder the ethics of having her in this group session. If he wanted to be her boyfriend, he could not be her therapist.

That was a mess he would have to sort out later.

Right now he pushed his thoughts away so that he could give his all to guiding the group through the healing exercise. Long ago he had memorized the cues for the exercise so they could spill from his tongue, but he believed it was better when he put his heart and soul into it. Although he tried to come across as warm and professional in leading this group, in truth he was nervous and deeply honored to have been chosen by God to lead them in this healing process. It was a painful blessing, as his mom used to say, because the thing that had brought them here was terrible and tragic.

Still, accepting that bad things happened to good people, he was grateful to be an agent of God’s peace. A healer.

30

R
uben pressed the blue chalk to the clean blackboard.

Long ago, he had mastered writing the square block letters that everyone could read. He propped the chalkboard on an easel near the barn entrance and reached for his hat on a hook.

“I’ve got to get to the meeting,” he told his father. “And then I’m going back to the Country Store.”

His father’s eyes were stern as he looked over the sign. “How much money do the Lapps need?”

“They got medical bills for almost twenty thousand dollars.
James had two surgeries, and then he had to stay in that rehab center.”

Joseph Zook grunted. “That’s crazy. More money than any good family could afford, but what can you do? I thank Gott every day that my family has good health.”

A bitter memory stung the back of Ruben’s throat, and he looked away so that his father would not see his annoyance. Their family hadn’t always been blessed with good health. They’d lost Mamm and Paul, and there’d been that terrible year when Ruben had been stuck on the daybed in the kitchen. A year of blinding pain and so many setbacks.

And though the pain had faded, there were the scars … knots of flesh across his back and belly that made him look stout. And the limp that slowed him when he was tired. The awkward gait that sometimes made Englisher people stare and giggle.

Ya, that terrible time had forced him to turn to the angels, and he might never have discovered them without the pain. But Dat didn’t know any of that.

Although Ruben didn’t dwell on the pain of the past, it struck him that Dat forgot it all too easily.

His dat clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’d better get going.” In a society of waiting, Dat could not abide a person who was late. No excuse for that.

“So I’m going to tell Elsie I can stay on for another few weeks, until after the auction.”

Joe tugged gently at his beard. “I reckon. But the bookkeeping is going to fall behind.”

“I’ll catch up on paperwork at night,” Ruben promised.

He had pretended to stop in at the family’s market for lunch—and he’d eaten a wurst on a roll—but really he had come to straighten a few things out with Dat. Ruben wanted to stay on at
Elsie’s store, even after things were back to normal, but Dat didn’t think the business could spare Ruben.

At least I got some more time out of him
, Ruben thought as he threaded his way through the customers in the aisle.

Zook’s barn was buzzing with conversation—chatty vendors and curious tourists. Everyone was caught up in the enduring cold of winter, trying to look forward to the thaw to come, those spring days when the pale gray sky burned blue and sad winter grass began to green. Folks spent so much time talking about the weather and crops. Ruben hadn’t realized that until recently, until he had met people who dared to talk about personal matters, like their hopes and fears.