Authors: Melody Carlson
“It's not your decision, Kim.”
“It's my decision whether I help you or not. And I will not help you to get an abortion.”
She was heading for the door now. But I got in front of her.
“And the reason I won't help you is because I know that you'd be even more miserable afterward than you were before.”
“You know?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “How can you possibly know how I feel, Kim? Or how I'd feel afterward?”
“Because I love you, Nat. And I've been praying for you. And I just know this in the same way that I know how bad you need God in your life right now. I just know.”
“Yeah, right.” Then she pushed past me and left, slamming the door behind her.
Saturday, July 13
I went to youth group tonight. And it was so cool to be there. So great to hang with people who believe like I do. It was REAL fellowship. And I got to wondering, had everyone here changed? Or was it just me?
When it was time to share about what Gods been doing in our lives, I actually raised my hand. It's like I couldn't NOT raise my hand.
Cesar, who was leading the group tonight since Josh and Caitlin are still down in Mexico (following their honeymoon), smiled and pointed at me. “Yeah, Kim, what's up? We've been really missing you around here.”
So I stood and told them about what had happened to me just a week ago, how I got down on my knees in the bedroom at Grandma's house and everything. I even mentioned how I ran into the Redemption girls in Orlando and how Chloe really confirmed to me that it was a God-thing. Not that I'd had any doubts.
“That's awesome,” Cesar said and everyone clapped, which actually made me feel rather silly, like I was a trained seal or something. But I'm sure that's not how they meant it to come across. They were just happy for me.
After that some of the others, not everyone, shared how they'd had similar spiritual experiences. But all the stories were different. We finally agreed that God works in a variety of unexplainable and creative ways.
Afterward as we were pigging out on junk food, Ben came over to talk to me. I tried to smile and act natural,
but it was really hard not to think about Natalie as he talked.
“That is so great to hear, Kim.” He slapped me on the back. “Very cool.”
“Thanks,” I managed to mutter, glancing over my shoulder for someone else to interrupt us.
“Uh, I've been meaning to ask, but you were gone…” Ben glanced around too, as if he was uncomfortable. “Anyway, how is Natalie doing? I never see her around, and well, I guess I'm worried about her.” His face got really sad. “And I guess I've really been struggling with guilt about everything, you know?”
I nodded without speaking.
“And I, uh, usually talk to Josh about stuff like this, but he's been gone and stuff. So I'm not really sure what to do.” He looked at me with the most helpless expression.
“I, uh, I don't know what to tell you, Ben.”
“Have you talked to her much? Is she doing okay?”
And then its like something in me just broke. I'd like to think it was a God-thing, but I'm not totally sure.
“Okay, Ben, I want to tell you something, but it needs to be private. Can we go in the sanctuary or something?”
He looked around at our friends as they joked and ate, then nodded. Thankfully, he hadn't brought Torrey with him tonight. That would've complicated things.
We headed for the sanctuary but discovered Willy was there setting up some things for the worship time
tomorrow, so we decided to go out to the parking lot.
Finally, when I was sure no one could overhear us, I shot up a silent prayer and then told Ben to brace himself.
“Natalie is pregnant,” I said slowly and clearly, “with your child, Ben.”
Even in the dimly lit parking lot, I could see the color draining from his face. He almost looked like he was going to fall over.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He just shook his head.
“I'm sorry. I hate that you have to learn about it like this. I've begged Nat to tell you, but she refuses. I'm the only one, well, other than Haven—”
“Haven?” His eyes got wide.
I nodded. “Yeah, she wants to get an abortion.”
Ben pushed his hand through his short-cropped blond hair and let out a big groan. “Oh, man.”
“I don't know what to do, Ben. I know that an abortion would kill Nat. I don't mean physically, but inside. She's always been so against it. And just losing her virginity has nearly destroyed her. I've tried talking her out of it, but she won't listen. She refuses to get counseling and—”
“I can't take this,” he said as he fiercely shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I just can't handle it. I gotta get out of here, Kim.” Then he took off running.
Just as he left, Cesar came up. “Something wrong?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
By then I was crying. “Oh, Cesar, I don't know what to do. I hope I haven't made a mistake.”
“Want to talk?”
So, feeling miserable and confused, I spilled the whole story to Cesar. I honestly didn't know what else to do. “You can't tell anyone.” I made him promise after I was done. “I'm serious, Nat would probably kill me…or herself.”
“Don't worry, your secret is safe. But I want to talk to Ben. I'm thinking he probably needs a friend right now.”
Well, there was some comfort in that. And of all the guys in the youth group, I felt certain that Cesar would be the most mature and understanding. But I didn't want to go back in for the fellowship time. I just couldn't. So I got in my Jeep and drove home. But as I drove, I prayed. I prayed for Ben and Cesar. And for Nat. And the amazing thing was that my prayer felt very real and powerful. As if God Himself was helping me to pray. That was some consolation.
Sunday, July 14
I went to church and looked all over for Ben, but I never saw him. I did talk to Cesar, and he said he'd called Ben and left a message. “But I haven't heard back from him yet.”
“I hope he's okay.” I shook my head sadly. “He was so upset. This is such a mess.”
“Yeah. Not exactly what God had in mind, is it?”
“You got that right.”
On my way home, I was wondering about Natalie. Was it possible that Ben would contact her now? That she would find out I was the one who spilled the beans? And would it be better to confess this now, or risk her wrath later? I wasn't sure. But I knew who to ask.
And I had barely said “amen” when I knew that I needed to come clean with Natalie. And even though I knew this for a fact, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather NOT do. In fact, I even started making up excuses why this would be a bad day to do this. I reminded myself of the “patient” in “The Screwtape Letters,” being influenced by Wormwood's lies.
So without even going in my house first, I parked my Jeep in the driveway and marched over to Natalie's house, bracing myself, I'm sure, for the spitfire word-bashing beating I was about to receive.
“What's up?” Nat asked when she opened the door looking like she just woke up.
“Is your mom back from church?”
“Not yet.”
Knowing that Nat's family could be back soon, I decided that maybe we should take this someplace else. “Get something on your feet,” I commanded her. “We're going for a walk.”
To my surprise, she didn't argue as she slipped on her flip-flops and joined me outside. “What's up, Kim?”
“We need to talk.”
She rolled her eyes. “Another lecture?”
“Not exactly.”
We got about a block from our street, and I took a deep breath. “I have a confession.”
She turned and looked at me, then almost laughed. “I know what it is—you lost your virginity too? I'll bet it happened in Florida, huh? Tell me about it.”
“No,” I said, trying to conceal my disgust that she'd jump to this conclusion. “That's not it.”
“Well, what then?”
“I was at youth group last night. And afterward, Ben came up to talk to me. He was really concerned about you, Nat. He wanted to know how you were doing, and well, I'm not sure what came over me—maybe it was God, but—”
She stopped walking and grabbed me by the shoulders. “You didn't?” Her eyes looked like hot blue heat. “You didn't tell him, did you?”
“It's like I couldn't help it, Nat.”
“No!” she screamed. “Kim, I trusted you.”
“But he deserved to know…he's part of this, Nat. He's the father—”
Then Nat used some profanity I'd never heard her use. And I was so shocked that I couldn't even say anything. And she turned away from me and walked off. I couldn't even call after her. I just stood there.
And I guess I am second-guessing myself now. like was I wrong to tell Ben? Have I really betrayed my best friend? What should I have done instead? Finally as a distraction, I decide to Just Ask Jamie again.
Dear Jamie,
I made a promise to my best friend. And then I broke it. But the reason I broke it was because I thought it was really in her best interest. I thought that keeping my promise would only allow her to really hurt herself-in a way that she might never recover from. But now she hates me, and I'm sure she'll never speak to me again. I feel horrible. What should I do?
Promise Breaker
Dear PB
,
Not knowing the nature of your promise, it's hard to know what to tell you. But if you really did believe your friend was going to harm herself-like if she was considering suicide or breaking the law or something that she would really regret-perhaps it was better to break your promise. Of course, now that you've lost her trust, it's possible that you've lost her friendship too. I suggest that you apologize for breaking your promise and try to explain your reasoning. If she refuses to listen, you'll probably Just have to wait and see if she comes to her senses. Hopefully whatever you did (that broke your promise) will cause something in her situation to change for the better, and she'll see why you did it
Just Jamie
Okay, I know this sounds crazy, but I'm thinking, hey, why didn't I think ofthat? And then I realize that I
did—sort of. And I think that's probably true. I may just have to step aside and wait and see what happens next. But I'll be praying. I will most definitely be praying! Not only that, but I think I'll run this letter in the column. It's not like it really gives anything away. And maybe Nat will read it.
Tuesday, July 16
I didn't hear anything back from Natalie for a couple of days. Although I did e-mail her an apology and an explanation. It was nothing I hadn't already said before— lots of times—but I figured I probably owed her as much.
But at about nine-thirty this morning, I go out to the porch and sit in the shadows to keep watch on Natalie's house. Naturally, I am worried that she'll get into the Toyota pickup and head off, I would assume, to Haven. And as much as I would like to follow her there, and somehow derail her, I have this strong feeling that I am NOT supposed to do that. So I just sit on the porch, praying—for a miracle.
It's about a quarter to ten when I see Ben's car pull into her driveway. And I nearly jump out of my chair to run over there and ask him what on earth he thinks he's
doing. Why is he showing up at Nat's at the same time she's scheduled an abortion? Is it possible that he supports Natalie in her decision to go through with this? Why haven't I even considered this possibility? Why did I even trust him in the first place? I want to scream.
Of course, I'm telling myself now, why would Ben want everyone (including his girlfriend and brother-in-law youth pastor) to know that he's the father of Natalie's baby? Why haven't I thought of this?
So, feeling sick to my stomach, I sit and watch as Ben goes to the front door and returns with Natalie, walking her to his car. He even opens the door for her. Then they drive away. Just like that. No big deal. They could just as easily be going for a picnic as to have their unborn child murdered.
Okay, at this point, I am seriously considering following them and somehow making this craziness stop right here, right now. But how? Besides, I still have this very strong feeling (I think it's God) that that would be wrong. So I just sit here and pray—and pray and pray.
And I must say that praying makes a difference. Despite how worried I am for Nat and her unborn baby, and despite how angry I feel at Ben for this, I still have this deep sense of peace. I am trusting that somehow God will bring good out of what appears to be nothing but crud.
Even so, it's a very long day, and it isn't until this evening that I hear the rest of the story. Even now I'm
still pinching myself. It starts with a phone call.
“Hey, Kim,” Nat says to me, as if everything between us is just fine.
“Nat?” I'm not quite sure its really her.
“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that I didn't do it.”
“Didn't do it?”
“I didn't get the abortion.”
“Really?” Okay, I want to jump and shout hallelujah now, but I try to contain myself.
“Really.”
“What happened?”
“Ben called me on Monday. He said that you'd told him about, well, you know. And he wanted to know what he could do to help.”
“Yeah?”
“So, I was still pretty mad at him, and I said the only thing he could do to help would be to take me to Haven for my appointment.”
“And he agreed to do that?”
“Yeah. I was kind of surprised too.”
I don't admit that I witnessed this little spectacle. “And then what?”
“We got to Haven, the back parking lot, and then Ben just totally broke down. I mean, he was crying and sobbing and apologizing and everything. It was actually pretty sweet.”
“And?”
“Well, I started to cry too. And I told him that I didn't
really believe in abortion and that I knew it was wrong and that it made me sick to think I was willing to kill this baby just so that I'd look good.”
“Yeah?”
“And he said he felt the same way. He admitted that part of him wanted to sweep it away and pretend like it never happened, and that he thought an abortion would do that.”
“And?”
“But that he knew it was wrong. He knew that God didn't want us to destroy this baby.”