Miracles in Disguise (The Trampled Rose Series) (13 page)

Lisa pulled her friend into her arms and said comfortingly, “Remember what Nathan said. Are you going to let your past shape you, or are you going to let God do the shaping?”

“Well,” Kristina said with a laugh, “I wish He’d hurry with the shaping, because it is really beginning to hurt.”

Lisa pulled back with a laugh, and then added “He knows your pain, and He also knows His purpose. He knows who you are and who He created you to be. He knows your strengths, your great courage. . . “

Kristina laughed, but it was a cold laugh. The self-loathing was clearly evident in her voice as she interrupted doubtfully, “Courage? If I had courage I wouldn’t have let my date rape me on my prom night. I wouldn't have stayed with David year after year, getting beaten up and put down. If I had any courage, I wouldn’t have needed to run away - even after David was dead. Not that it did any good, because I still hear his accusations over and over in my head.”

“Kristina,” Lisa exclaimed, “do you really think that any of that was your fault? You survived all of that – which takes courage. You didn’t run away, you moved on.” Setting her cup down on the table, she pointed at her friend and said with all the love she could, “Now it is your choice. You can let the past continue to rule your life, or you can let go, and grab on to what God has in store for you.”

“But it is not that easy to just let go . . .”

“Kristina, when David first came into your life, you and everyone else were swept up in his ‘all-consuming’ love. But all I saw was a woman searching for love from the wrong source. Sure, he seemed like such a wonderful guy, who said such sweet and loving things. He showered you with gifts, praise, and affection. You were his beautiful angel, his darling princess – but such perfection doesn’t exist, and I knew your pedestal would eventually crumble."

Kristina sniffled, and said with a humorless laugh, “It sure did!”

“My point is, that kind of love – it doesn’t exist between two people. I love John, he makes me happy, and I hope I do the same for him. But he is not the source of my joy. God needs to be the source, the one who fills me up – everyone else just adds to it. Look, you grew up with a demanding father – you had to earn his love. You went to high school and fell in love with a boy who, whether knowingly or not, used that to his advantage. From the stories you have told me, it sounded like you tried to please him, just like used to do with your father. He eventually asked for more than you were willing to give – and instead he just took it.”

Kristina’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to her friend sum up her life. “Throughout college, I watched you hide from every man, until David came along. He managed to gain your trust with his tidal wave of love. And it didn’t help that you were so hungry for it.”

Kristina looked away, because she knew the truth of her friend’s words. David may have had her on a pedestal, but Kristina never protested. She loved his love – for once she had felt so full, so complete. But like Lisa said, she had fallen.

“My point is, you can only last so long on someone else’s love before you need some more.” Lisa smiled and said, “I hope you don’t take offense, but it is like the youth that John works with. They have their drug fixes, and it keeps them fine for a while. But it always leaves them flat.”

At Kristina’s look, she laughed and added, “I’m just saying that God’s love fills us completely. It fills us to overflowing. So no matter how much people try and take away from that – we are still full.”

Kristina sighed and shook her head at her friend’s words, though she really didn’t understand. Later that evening, as she lay nestled in her bed, she silently prayed,
It sounds good, but I don’t understand. If I have Jesus in my heart, then how come I’m not overflowing?

Chapter Thirteen

Kristina was humming softly as she graded the quizzes. Her last class of the day was her planning period, and she was taking the time to catch up on some work that she had been neglecting. She shook her head as she read some of the student’s answers, laughing at the attempt they made when they obviously didn’t know the answer.

“Kristina,” Mr. Shirley said, popping his head into her class. “How was your visit with Lisa?”

“Oh, it was great, I have missed her.” She answered. Pushing her papers to the side she turned her full attention to Edwin. “The kids were so excited to see you again. Friday night, they couldn’t stop talking about their visit with you.”

He laughed, and the two talked for a moment about Lisa and her family.

“Well, I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said as he walked out of her classroom, “I just wanted to come by and say hello.”

“No problem.” She turned her focus on the quizzes.

“Oh,” he turned back to her desk, “Would you mind dropping this by Nathan’s class on your way out?”

“Ah…sure.”

She hadn’t spoken with Nathan since Thanksgiving night, and butterflies went skittering through her belly at the prospect of seeing him again. She had wanted to speak with him Sunday after service, but he was busy talking with the stranger from the Christmas light display.

“See, Lisa,” John had teased his wife, “No need to be alarmed about that guy. He’s talking with Nathan.”

Lisa looked over her shoulder and shrugged. The man looked their way and Lisa turned from him. “I’m just saying that it is a huge coincidence that we both were heading to the same small town."

“Well, since there isn’t a huge international conspiracy going on, can we hit the road?”

Lisa slapped him playfully on his arm and warned, “Careful, it is a long drive back.”

The group had headed back to Kristina’s house, but not before Kristina had shot one longing glance back at Nathan.

Now she had an excuse to go see him. She threw her belongings into her bag and closed up her classroom. Though she knew where it was, she had never been down to his classroom. As she neared the class, she heard a boy singing in a falsetto voice. Hesitant to interrupt, she slipped through the door and stood to the side.

Whatever she had been expecting, was not what met her eyes. The kids were sitting around the classroom, some on the risers, and some in the corners. And to her amazement, Nathan and one of his students were lying on the floor . . . singing.

Sitting up, he said, “That’s it, Richard! You can’t breathe wrong when you're lying down.” Standing, he continued as the young man kept singing, “See, you haven’t gone flat because you had enough air – and it takes air to stay in tune.”

Helping the boy up, Nathan continued, “I want you to practice that at home, and you’ll be ready for Saturday.”

“The rest of you lazies,” he said jokingly, “On your feet, let’s practice our Christmas song.”

The kids that were scattered around the room began closing their cell phones, packing up their books, and putting away their makeup. When they all were in their place on the risers, they turned to Nathan for his direction.

Again, Kristina was expecting something along the lines of the children’s choir at church. After Nathan had taken them through a series of warm up exercises, they began to sing . . . and it astonished Kristina. She had been expecting
Jingle Bells
, or
O’ Christmas Tree
, instead she was hit with an amazingly skilled choir singing, at least to her untrained ears, at a level that certainly seemed professional.

Nathan was stationed behind the piano that stood in the middle of the room. He’d occasionally say something to direct the students, “. . . you’re pushing it flat, tenors . . . this part is short . . . now soft, shush . . .” as his hands mimicked his words.

After the song, Nathan began talking “All right, those of you performing Saturday, I need you to stay after class . . . everyone else, see you . . . ” he paused as he finally spotted her, and then finished with a smile, "tomorrow.”

Coming to stand before her, he said, “Hey, little one,” sending a thrill through her heart at his endearment.

“I didn’t mean to disturb your class,” she said, a little taken back by her emotions. The joy at simply seeing him startled her –– part of her wanted to run from it . . . but part of her just wanted to run straight into his arms. And that is what troubled her most.

Smiling down at her in the way that melted all of her fears and scattered all rational thought, he said softly, “I like it when you disturb me.”

A blush stained her cheeks, and she handed him the envelope that Mr. Shirley entrusted to her. “Ah, this is for the competition on Saturday,” he said as students began coming in.

“We’re having practice right?” One student asked. He briefly nodded, but his attention was devoted to her.

“Well,” she said, still warmed by his comments, and his presence. “I better let you get to your practice.”

He grabbed her hand before she could escape. “Stay,” was all he said, but warmth flooded her heart again at the intensity of his gaze. “Stay, I want to share with you what is such a big part of my life.”

He pulled a chair from his office and placed it at the side of the room. Taking her things from her, he carried them to his office as she took her seat. Several of her students waved at her, and Barbara came to give her a quick hug. She expected the students to gather on the risers again, but instead they scattered themselves about the room. Some positioned themselves in front of the mirror, some grabbed music stands and formed a small circle, and others stood near the piano or on the risers.

Nathan returned and spoke briefly to them about Saturday’s performance, and then ran them through the same warm-up exercises as the previous class. After he started the music in the CD player, it didn’t take her long to recognize the words from one of her favorite poems.

Nathan moved about the group, singing along, his body and arms moving with the music and the directions he sporadically gave to the students. Some of the kids positioned in front of the mirror simply stood watching themselves, some sang to each other while dancing and show-boating, others seemed to be directing along with Nathan. Barbara was in the corner, sheet music in hand, intent and serious about her singing.

“Don’t let it die . . . it’s still forte,” he said to one student. “Pay attention to the words,” he said, “they are dying now, speak their anguish, speak their pain, and let your voice convey it."

Kristina watched the man who had been slowly worming his way past her walls and barriers. He stood, slowly moving to the music, eyes closed, “They’ve died, they’re gone . . . pain, sorrow, suffering . . . think of this as you are singing.” She stared transfixed at the handsome sight he made, so moved by the song.

When he opened his eyes, they fell upon her, and it was as if all the students had fallen away. Kristina sat, rooted to her chair, and bound to this handsome and sensitive man, wrapped tightly in the words and the music of the song, and the feelings that she saw in his eyes. Though she wanted to deny them…run from them, she couldn't. And she knew she would be lying if she said she wasn’t in love with Nathan.

Oblivious to what was going on, one student came up and asked Nathan a question, shattering the moment. With great reluctance he tore his gaze from her, and answered the young man’s questions. The boy began to jot notes down on his sheet music as Nathan spoke. He was about to ask another question when Barbara came to stand beside Nathan. Kristina smiled to herself as she watched the young man blush and falter in his speech.

Barbara was oblivious to the boy as she began to tinker with the keys on the piano. Kristina couldn’t distinctly hear what they said over the din of the classroom chatter, but she couldn’t mistake the man's blush when Barbara winked at him and made a comment.

“All right guys,” Nathan said loudly over the noise to gain everyone’s attention. “I want to see everyone back here tomorrow after class and we will practice some more.”

After the last of the students had filed out of the classroom, Nathan turned to Kristina, who was returning the chair back to his office. Taking the chair, he said, “So what do you think?”

Smiling up into his boyishly expectant face, she said, “Oh, Nathan, it was beautiful. That is one of my favorite poems.”

“I love that song,” he said, taking her hands in his. “The music is so symbolic of their pain and anguish. The violins at the end almost sound as if they are crying and the way the drums . . . bum da da da dum . . .”

“You are moved by the music, and I was moved by the words.” She said, and then added with a shrug, "But they both say the same thing, just differently.” The passion the words ignited in her was accomplished, for him, through the music. For some strange reason, this seemed to bind her heart to his even more.

As if reading her thoughts, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close, “They go together well, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do,” she said in a whisper.

“Well, if you think that was amazing,” he said, “you should see these kids perform.” Pulling her closer, he asked in a husky whisper, “Come with me on Saturday.”

“Okay,” When Nathan pulled her closer to his side, it was as if he pulled her deeper into his heart, and there was no denying him. There was also no denying the fact that she felt so relaxed and comfortable with him. This town, these people, and Nathan seemed to be the balm needed for her wounded heart. Despite the warnings sounding in her head, she began to hope again in a future.