Authors: Jillian Hart
S
arah couldn’t move. She didn’t know if it was shock that kept her on the top step or sorrow. She was too numb to feel anything. Mortal wounds were like that, or so she had heard—too severe to deal with at first. But slowly the pain set in, dull and growing sharper until it was unbearable.
The cold wind gusted, blowing straight through her. The blink, blink of the lights were a rhythmic reminder of each passing second, one just like the rest, as the tail-lights of Mike’s truck grew smaller down the street. He turned the corner and vanished, leaving behind the cheerful holiday displays of lights on the other houses.
The image of him standing before her and the flat note of his voice haunted her. She rubbed her eyes and realized she was crying. Not for herself, but for him.
His confession rattled around in her mind.
I blamed you for not loving me enough, when that’s what I was doing. I was never going to let you get close to me.
That wasn’t right. It wasn’t what he said, so much as the way he’d said it. It was as if a cloud of deep despair clung to him like the night shadows. He spoke as if he had no heart left. As if he were a drowning man going down for the third time and no help in sight.
She swiped at her wet cheeks. The door behind her squeaked open a few inches. She had left it ajar and she smiled at Clarence who paced toward her, offering a meow of concern.
“Come here, handsome.” She lifted him into her arms, savoring his silky softness and purring comfort. She climbed to her feet and carried him back into the house.
She lingered on the doorstep and took one long last look down the street, quiet and still this time of night, remembering the ghost of the man who had knelt before her, apologizing and brushing at her wet cheeks.
A month after Ali left we found ourselves under attack.
She remembered standing in Mike’s kitchen making spaghetti sauce and how he had gone stone cold when he mentioned the skirmish. His look of utter failure when he talked about the Army Ranger he had lost on his table.
Mike was a strong man, one of the mightiest she knew but maybe this kind of stress wasn’t something even the strongest soldier ought to handle on his own. No man was an island; it wasn’t a matter of strength. It was the way God had made us to love and need one another.
She felt devastated all over again. Mike was hurting, and he was suffering alone. Her heartbreak seemed small by comparison.
Clarence jumped out of her arms and onto his favored spot on the back of the couch. He curled up and watched her with slitted eyes as she went back outside to fetch the gift bags. Mike. He had gone to a lot of trouble shopping and wrapping Ali’s gifts
early
instead of his usual last minute. That said everything right there. He loved the little boy more than he wanted to admit.
She locked the door against the cold and night. Why had he given up trying to adopt Ali? He had said at the time that he had the army. If he believed that, he never would have wanted to adopt a child in the first place. No, this was about something larger, she realized, something that Mike had kept to himself, as he did most things.
She set the bags down by the tree and began to unload them. Wouldn’t Ali be surprised in the morning? That would be a great way to start Christmas Eve day, since the boy would miss seeing his hero over the holidays.
She carefully set one present after another beneath the cheerful tree. She had been overwhelmed with her own disappointment, shattered dreams for true love could do that to a girl, and then worried over Mike, she hadn’t gotten to the real issue. Ali was going to be devastated.
How did this turn into such a big mess, Lord? How am I going to save this little boy from more loss? Maybe I should have protected him more, but that would have meant not seeing Mike. They need each other.
I need them, too.
That was the truth, straight from her soul. Her life was better with Mike and Ali in it. Brighter. More meaningful. Beyond that, they were her purpose. She was meant to love them.
Show me what to do, Lord. I can’t see it through all my heartbreak. Please, Father, send me a sign. Something. I am lost here.
She felt no answer but when she ended her prayer and opened her eyes she felt stronger, as if she were no longer alone. She pulled the last gift out of the bottom of the first bag. It was small, not tiny, but just the right size for a boxed ornament. She smiled. Mike used to get her one of her favorite porcelain collectable ornaments every year to hang on her tree. Maybe he had found a little soldier ornament for Ali.
She set the gift on the pile beneath the tree, and the purple glow of a single lightbulb reflected off the red ribbon, catching her attention. The tag had her name on it. It was a gift for her.
Sarah, I thought this would be a reminder of your first Christmas with Ali,
Mike had written.
She opened it without thinking, trembling and breathless. She hadn’t expected this. Once the paper was off, she pried the lid up. The truth hit her when she saw the dear figurine of a dark-haired little boy holding a string of Christmas lights.
The hour was late and the hospital chapel was the closest thing to peace he could find. Not that he wanted to admit it. Mike rested his forehead in his hands, so sick at heart he didn’t know how to cope anymore.
Footsteps warned him of someone approaching. He straightened up on the bench and tried to pull it together. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to see him like this.
“Mike.” Franklin Fields padded into the chapel. “I came by to see your young soldier and his wife. Congratulations. He’s out of I.C.U.”
Mike forced a smile. He respected Franklin. “Zach got lucky. He was able to pull through.”
“It wasn’t luck, Mike.” Franklin took the end of the bench. “You’re a talented surgeon. According to those in the know, one of the best they’ve seen.”
“It’s not me.” He hated the helplessness of it. The failure of watching one patient die and another live under the same circumstances, with the same prognosis. Of helping one to fight to live while another less wounded died. He hung his head. “I wish it was me, but it isn’t.”
“Let me guess. You got into medicine because you wanted to help save people. Because you value life.”
He nodded. “Plus there was the benefit of long hours and army pay.”
That lightened the mood, but not much. Franklin’s smile was brief. “It’s God working through you, Mike. The way He works good through everyone, even those who think relying on Him is a weakness.”
“I don’t want to be converted, Franklin. No offense.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Mike.” The pastor had a quiet authority that was hard not to respect. “You are here for a reason, and it isn’t because you wanted a quiet room. There are plenty of places here that are quiet this time of night. And I can’t convert you. The answers are for you to find. I can only sit with you while you do.”
“Then you’re wasting your time, reverend.”
“It’s my time to waste.” Franklin shrugged. “Anything else you want to talk about? I know you had a tough deployment.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve counseled other soldiers you served with, for one. But all I need to do is look at you. You look troubled, son, as if you have a world of burden on your soul.”
“Some days it feels that way.” Mike wished—he even prayed—that he could feel something, anything, that would bring him back to life.
“Christ sacrificed His life so that others could live. He lived His life in service to others.”
“Thanks, but I can do this my way. Standing on my own two feet. No offense, Franklin.”
“None taken. I know how it is. It’s tough to open up. It’s the way you learn to cope keeping your wounds to yourself. I used to feel it was weak to open up. Then I realized it was wrong to shy away from living life. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in God and in love.”
Sarah. Mike squeezed his eyes shut but still the image came to him of her sitting on her front steps, gilded with the jeweled shine of the Christmas decorations with tears on her cheeks. He had hurt her, but how could he be with her? He was dying inside. He couldn’t expose her to that.
“Are you all right?” Franklin asked.
He managed a single nod and opened his eyes. Candles sputtered on the altar, and that’s how he was inside.
“You are one of the strongest men I know, Mike. Take some advice. Sometimes God hands you a lifeline. You’ve got to be strong enough to take it.”
“Sarah.”
“Yes.” Franklin pushed his card across the bench and stood. “And that little boy who needs you. Maybe it is His way of letting you know you aren’t alone. When you are lost, don’t despair. That’s when you find what matters most.”
Mike pressed his hands to his face, praying he had enough strength left.
B
leary-eyed, Mike drove toward home. Dawn was coming, although it was hard to tell because of the clouds. It had been a long night, but at least he knew what he had to do. He had fallen asleep in the night room. He had just enough time to shower, change, grab a bite and head back. With any luck, he would have enough time to stop by Sarah’s house on the way into work. He had a lot to say to her, things that could not be said over the phone.
He turned down his street, one house after another bright with Christmas lights. It was Christmas Eve. For the first time he could feel the hope of the season in his heart. He slowed down as he neared his driveway. What was going on?
Multicolored lights flashed along the rail of his small porch. It looked like there was a wreath on his front door, and Sarah’s SUV parked in his driveway.
It was his answered prayer to see Sarah step out from behind her SUV, graced by the soft glow of lights. He pulled to a stop, catching the culprits in his headlights. There was a box of ornaments in her arms and a tree leaning against the back of her vehicle.
Sarah, his beautiful, gentle Sarah. For the first time his heart sparked like a candle, newly lit. He wanted to feel more. He needed to feel more. He cut the engine and stepped out into the bitterly cold morning.
“Mike!” Ali came racing out from behind Sarah, bundled in his warm winter coat and hat with the ball on top. “Look at the lights.”
“I see. Those are pretty fine lights.”
“Yep. You know what?”
“What?”
“You gotta have lights and a tree!” Ali wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist and gave him a hug. “I’m bringin’ you Christmas.”
“Thanks, buddy. That’s a mighty fine gift.” There was such goodness in the world, too. He could see it now, even through his darker experiences. He needed this child with all of his heart. He returned Ali’s hug and straightened, feeling better. Much better.
Now for Sarah. He steeled his self-control, this time to keep the guards on his heart down.
She was bundled up, too. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold and her eyes asked a question his heart could hear. “Any chance the invitation for Christmas still stands?”
“Pretty good.”
“How good?”
“One hundred percent.” She smiled, and it was like taking his first breath.
A little scary, but he needed her. He couldn’t make it without her. He knew that now. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Ali wanted to bring you Christmas, and I thought it was a very good idea. You need Christmas, and we need you.”
“I pushed you away. I hurt you.” He swallowed hard, digging deep for words that didn’t come. There was no way around it. It shamed him. It also gave him hope. He had found what he had lost, what mattered most: the little boy standing at his side and the woman who was his everything. “I was going to come to you, but you beat me to it.”
“I’m always going to be here for you, Mike.”
Her understanding meant everything. He held out his hand and she came into his arms. He held her tightly with all the need in his soul, savoring the warmth of her in his arms. The lost pieces in him ached, found after all. Keeping his heart wide open, he went down to his knees in gratitude.
“Mike? Are you all right?” Concern lined her face. Love shone in her eyes.
“I’m fine. Never been better.” He took her hand in his. He heard Ali gasp; the boy had figured out what Sarah had not yet realized. “I promised myself in the chapel—”
“You were in the chapel?” she interrupted, a little shocked.
“Yes.” He wasn’t going to be sidetracked. That discussion was for another time. This one could not wait. “I promised myself that the moment I saw you I was going to ask you a very important question.”
“A question? Oh, Mike, you are down on your knees.” Realization made her gasp. Tears sparkled like silver in her eyes. The frigid wind chose that moment to gust, dancing through her silken red hair. Her lower lip trembled. Never had she looked more lovely to him than with her whole heart revealed and vulnerable.
He took her hand, feeling the emotion tremble through her. He had put up defensive perimeters for as long as he could remember. But no more.
It was tough to let down his guard, tougher still to say what he had felt all this time, to say what had always been his truth. “You are my dream, Sarah. Come rain or shine, rough or still waters, I want to be right beside you, taking care of you, loving you, needing you.”
“You need me?”
“More than air to breathe. More than the army. More than being a doctor. You are what I need to make my world right.” He cleared his throat, taking time as the wind gusted harder and fine drizzle began to mist from the heavy sky. “You are my once-in-a-lifetime love, Sarah. I love you. Marry me, please, because I am lost without you.”
“Yes. I will marry you.” It was her Christmas wish come true. There was more than forgiveness; there was hope for a blissful future. Mike gazed up at her with love, and they both might be a little battered for what they had been through, but stronger, too. Sarah blinked, hoping her vision would clear, hoping she could find the right words. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Mike. I love you for exactly who you are. Everything you are.”
“That’s how I love you.” He stood, towering over her, blocking her from the wind and rain. “Except there’s one thing. I’m not going to go for another long engagement. If you want to be my wife, you will have to marry me right away.”
“Funny, I feel the same exact way.” Joy warmed her through, so that she didn’t notice the inclement weather or the fact that the street was coming to life. A jogger trotted by. A neighbor across the street took his dog for a walk. “How does a January wedding sound to you?”
“Just right.” His hands cradled her face. His touch was reverent, his tenderness unmistakable. “Thank you, Sarah. For bringing me Christmas. For being here. For not giving up on me.”
“I made that mistake once, and I will never do it again.” They had wasted so much time between the two of them with their mistakes and fears. But no more. Life was too precious and their love was too important. The army, having a family around his deployments, it was all things that they could work out. All she wanted was Mike to have and to hold forever as her husband, her love, her life. “Real love isn’t letting go. It’s holding on in rough waters.”
“Then I’m going to hold on to you, Sarah, no matter what. You can count on that.”
“We’re two of a kind, Mike.” Soul mates. Best friends. Forever in love. They had found their way back to one another. Love, real and true, bound them more tightly than any force in the universe. “I can’t wait for our life to start. I have been waiting for so long.”
“Me, too.” He kissed her gently, as if he wanted her to feel all that was in his heart.
Sarah’s soul sighed with contentment. She was right where she belonged at last. “There is only one problem. I’m not going to adopt Ali.”
“What?” Mike stepped back, shocked by her words, searching her face before he smiled. “I agree. I think that your adopting Ali is a very bad decision.”
“That’s right.
We
are going to adopt him. Together.”
“Together,” Mike agreed with one hundred percent happiness. It shimmered in his beautiful hazel eyes and danced in the air between them.
“It’s all white!” Ali jumped up, trying to catch as many snowflakes as he could in both hands. “Look, Mike! Look, Sarah!”
Tiny airborne flakes dusted the air. Snow, she realized in amazement. Tiny flakes sifted over them like Heavenly grace. It was the perfect start to their happy ending.