Before long Thanksgiving arrived. The day began early for Selena; there were pies to prepare and bake, chores to complete, the wagon to load, and finally, the rainy journey to Julia’s to endure. Eating, talking and games occupied the adults. Johnnie lay by the fire entertaining Wade. Using wooden blocks, the older boy built towers for Wade to attack with the vengeance of a warrior. A wail of victory erupted each time the tottering structure toppled, scattering blocks across the floor. Selena watched the boys, her eyes sparkling. Wade giggled with delight each time the pile tumbled under his efficient sword. Selena rarely remembered a celebration growing up. She enjoyed every minute of this one.
When they returned home late that night, Dirk carried his exhausted son up the stairs to his room. The soldier’s life had taken its toll. Selena followed her arms overflowing with paraphernalia from the day: blankets, toys, and jackets to put away. Dirk tucked his son into bed while Selena unloaded her arms. Leaning her head against the door jamb, she watched as Dirk slipped each shoe from the sleeping boy and tucked him under the covers. He bent down and placed a kiss on his young son’s head. Wade stirred, raised his arm in the air momentarily before flopping it back over his face mumbling something about a sword.
Selena slipped out into the narrow landing at the top of the stairs that connected her room to Wade’s. Realizing that she had left her cloak on the floor of his room, she turned erratically to go back just as Dirk, who was closing the bedroom door, stepped into the hall. They collided throwing Selena off balance and backwards toward the steep staircase behind her. Dirk instinctively grabbed her hands pulling her towards himself against the bedroom door. Selena pinned him there. Looking up into his face, she trembled, every pore of her body responding to his strong presence. Neither moved, frozen by the unforeseen whirlwind of events that just happened. Dirk’s dark eyes peered fiercely into hers. She felt his heart beating fast against her own. Her breath came rapidly; the blood rushed to her face. He leaned closer. She closed her eyes expecting to feel his lips on hers, but instead she heard him whisper in her ear, “Selena, I can’t.” Her eyes flew open, and she saw the misery in his. Tears rolled down her face. He took the back of his fingers and wiped the drops gently into her hair. They flowed quicker. He tried to utter words, but could only mouth “I’m sorry.” His pain exposed, drove her love deeper. She leaned her head toward him and whispered, “I’ll wait.” A guttural sob escaped him as he wrestled back his feelings. He pulled away, took the stairs, and left the house.
Selena slumped to the floor and wept. Wept for him, wept for herself, and wept for the hopeless love that plagued her life. Exhausted and spent, she crept into bed. Hugging the pillow to herself for comfort, she slept.
Dirk stumbled to the barn. Expelling his emotions on the ladder, he pulled the rungs fiercely as he heaved himself up into the loft. Pounding his fist against a post, he flopped down on the hay and let the sobs rule. Gut-wrenching, they overtook him until tears failed to fall, and still the convulsive sobs continued. Sleep ultimately consumed him.
Shivering, he awoke hours later. The scurrying of mice or rats, or perhaps both in the hay beneath him persuaded him to move. He stood, brushed the hay off his clothes, and tried to determine the time of day. Descending the ladder, he peered out the barn door and saw the glow of light foreshadowing the sun, glimmering over the house. He had slept most of the night. He sucked in the crisp air and leaned his back against the door, thinking.
He never cried after Elizabeth left. Anger not sorrow enflamed him then. He planted the seeds of bitterness she left behind and nurtured them until they flourished into an entangled hedge of briers. It locked his heart from any involvement with another and all other women from him. Why tears, now? Why am I crying over Selena when I didn’t cry over my own wife? He tried to understand, to make sense of this ripping pain, but felt helpless to do so. He needed someone to help him unravel this mystery. Turning back to the barn, he started his chores; then, saddling the horse, he rode off towards town.
When he arrived at the parsonage, he realized the time of day. He sat on his horse in misery, desperation pushing him forward; pride holding him back. As the battle ensued within him, he saw the dull hue from a kerosene lantern brighten the front window; a wisp of smoke curled from the chimney above. He moved forward.
Accustomed to knocks on the door at all times of day, Pastor Wells welcomed the man into the cold kitchen. Lighting the stove under the coffee pot, he motioned Dirk to the table where the distraught man spent the next hour explaining the fragments of his past and the frustrations of the present. The pastor did not try to instruct him with trite answers; rather, he stirred his coffee slowly and prayed for wisdom.
“Dirk, I need to understand why you are here? Is it to understand why Elizabeth deserted you, to heal your past, or to know how to love your wife?”
“Frankly, I don’t know why I’m here, but I need help, that I do know.” The men sat quietly at the table until Dirk blurted out, “I didn’t want a wife; I wanted a mother. That’s why I agreed to this relationship. Elizabeth destroyed my faith in marriage; I want nothing to do with it. This is just an arranged marriage for Wade’s sake nothing more. Why can’t everyone understand that?”
The pastor thought for a time, “I hear what you’re saying, Dirk, but if you have no feelings for Selena, why did you spend the night weeping in the barn?” He let the insight permeate the man’s defenses. “You say that Elizabeth destroyed your faith in marriage. As I see it, Elizabeth destroyed herself, not your faith. Only you can determine what happens to that. Dirk, you could not control Elizabeth’s decisions, but you can control how you respond to those decisions. Your first wife’s choices do not have to destroy or, for that matter, orchestrate your life. They impact it certainly, but you alone determine how deeply.” He paused again before trying a slightly different approach, “Perhaps you don’t want this relationship with Selena because of your own vulnerability. I’d say you’re either protecting yourself or punishing yourself. Which do you think it is?”
Silence permeated the room while the clock monitored the time in resonating strokes.
“Maybe a little of both. I never want to feel betrayed again; I never want to wonder who my wife sees when I’m away.” Dirk could feel his body tensing with the remembrance of his wife’s unfaithfulness. “If I refuse to get close to another, I never need experience pain, at least not that type anyway.”
He stared off into the next room as his thoughts continued. “But, maybe I do feel guilty as well. My choice to marry Elizabeth, to be smitten by her beauty, affected my son. I will never let that happen again.”
Pastor Wells poured another cup of coffee for each of them. “Well, let’s focus on the latter point first as that’s the easiest. You’ve already chosen Selena as Wade’s mother, so protecting your son is a moot point. Now, for the matter of forgiveness, facing your indiscretion and the consequences it unfolded needs to be dealt with and moved past. God speaks so much about forgiveness for others as well as for ourselves.” Opening his Bible, the pastor directed Dirk to read portions of scripture concerning the forgiveness of God. “Dirk, no one can forgive themselves or another if they first do not appreciate and understand the forgiveness of God.”
“I might be able to forgive Elizabeth for what she did to me, but never for leaving our son.” Dirk shook his head resolutely.
“Perhaps you have a faulty understanding of forgiveness. Forgiveness does not accept the infraction, whatever it is, as understandable or acceptable. Instead, understanding the full extent of the sin, it merely chooses to not hold it against the other person for the sake of Christ. It allows God in His holiness to mete out judgment. Think of all that Elizabeth faces before God; her time for repentance is over. The last verse in Isaiah 52 comes to mind when I think of her. What she did not know, she will see; what she did not hear, she will now understand. Loving your son as you do, Dirk, you understand all that she missed. Pity her, and when you are tempted to resent her treatment of you, focus on how unrighteous we all stand in view of God’s holiness. Remember the extent of Christ’s sacrifice for you. Look at her through those lenses. None of us deserved His gift of forgiveness and salvation to us; yet, He gave it freely for all that accept it. How can we not do likewise?” Pastor let these thoughts infiltrate the man’s hardened shell.
“Now, let’s talk about your marriage to Selena. Do you realize God speaks to marriage as well in His word? In I Corinthians 7 it tells each of the marriage partners that they must fulfill their marital duty to each other. From what you tell me, I sense that Selena longs for more from this marriage than you feel ready to give. Is that right?”
Dirk’s emotions resurfaced. He pounded his fist on the table before him in protest. “We agreed on this type of marriage from the beginning. As I said, this is a type of arranged marriage.”
Pastor Wells sat quietly before continuing, “Dirk, all marriages were arranged in the Bible. Parents selected the spouse their child married, and with no previous feelings or emotions, I Corinthians still instructed the husband to sacrifice the rights of his body for his wife, and the wife for her husband. Did you ever think about that? What would it be like to commit every part of your being to someone you hardly knew? And yet, God created this mystery to be experienced together as a couple. God knew the importance of this intimacy to the health of a marriage. It provides the necessary glue to bond each couple together.”
“Well, it sure didn’t bond anything in my marriage.”
“I beg to differ. If it didn’t, why the bitterness when she deserted you?”
Dirk pondered this perspective and decided to redirect the conversation, “I find it hard to give myself to Selena. I’ve closed that chapter of my life; I just don’t feel.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think that is completely true. You feel; that’s why you said Walt watched you run away from Selena while camping. I think the better question might be why you won’t let yourself admit to feeling?”
“Possibly. It probably goes back to not trusting someone to faithfully love me. What do I know about Selena’s ability to love? And even if she did love me, how can I trust that she will continue to do so?”
“So, you’re protecting yourself from pain?”
“I guess, or maybe just running from entanglements.”
“Later in I Corinthians, chapter 13 describes the definition of love. It mentions that love is patient and kind; it goes on to say it is not self-seeking. I’d say that Selena exemplifies these traits daily to Wade and even more so, from what you’ve told me, to her late husband as well. Selena understands love, Dirk. Even her comment about “waiting” tells me you married quite a lady. Looks like she’s willing to set aside her own desires for the sake of yours. Dirk, you regret your past; don’t find yourself regretting this portion of your life as well. Don’t allow bitterness, pride or even fear keep you from finally experiencing life. Elizabeth’s gone. Selena’s here.”
They sat quietly for some time. Dirk moved to leave, but the pastor interrupted, “Dirk, I grew up on a farm. I know you have little time for meeting me. I’ve got a proposal. What if I ride over in a few days, and we can continue our talk while I help you milk a cow or two?”
Dirk marveled at this man’s discernment. “Anytime”, was his frank answer.
It was late morning before Dirk returned to the farm. Wade alerted Selena to his arrival. Presuming her husband was in the barn, this proclamation surprised her. She watched from the window as Dirk swung himself down from the horse and led it to the paddock. Was it her imagination, or did his shoulders sag under the weight of his burdens?
Dinner resembled that awkward first breakfast months ago when Selena made her entrance into the family. Wade chattered uninhibited for a little while, but the tension morphed with each passing minute. When Dirk finally spoke, Selena jumped as the silence shattered.
“I went to town this morning to speak with Pastor Wells.” He sensed the acknowledgement stunned his wife, but she said nothing, and he continued. “Selena, I need to deal with my past before I can even think about my future. I need you to understand that.”
Selena hesitated wondering how to continue such a conversation, but with unprecedented courage she bluntly moved forward, “Dirk, when I answered your advertisement, I promised you that I needed nothing from this marriage except purpose, and I sincerely meant that…”
Dirk interrupted her attempt bitterly, “I warned you that you might wish for more in a relationship. You promised me that you didn’t.” She could hear the desperate reprimand in his reminder. “I knew I shouldn’t have thought someone so young…”
“Dirk, I lived ten years with a husband that wasn’t,” she interrupted fiercely. “Not once did I break my commitment of marriage to him. Not once! And I would never be tempted by anyone outside of my marriage to you.” Her voice broke as the unwanted and unintended emotions surfaced. “I just never accounted for… well, I never expected that you would be the kind of man you are…” her voice faltered as she tried to explain the impossible. “I imagined…I don’t know what I imagined, really… but not you: kind, tender,” she blushed before going further, “Well,…handsome.” She looked up exasperated with herself, determined to defend the limited amount of pride she still retained. “I mean, you could have had any woman you wanted. That’s just not what I expected when I answered the advertisement. I expected someone…” she threw up her hands in ignominy as her face reddened further. “If you could have seen the portrait of you that I painted for myself, you’d have understood love as an impossible, unwanted prospect.”
Despite the strain, they both smiled for a moment before Selena’s face grew serious again, “But I want you to know, Dirk, it wasn’t just your features that attracted me,” she paused choking back the tears begging to overcome her; “… it’s your heart!” She looked him boldly in the face. “And Dirk Johnson, if our marriage remains exactly as it is today, even for the rest of my life, I still feel extremely blessed to have you as a husband. I can honestly say that I have never been happier in all my life than right now.” Tears crested and trickled down her cheeks.
Wade sensing that all was not right peered apprehensively at Selena. “Mama cries.” He looked at Dirk incredulously wanting him to unravel this mystery.
Thankful for a diversion, Selena brushed away the unbidden tears and focused her attention on her son. “Mama has happy tears,” she explained.
Unconvinced, her son watched her carefully until she smiled. Looking at his father, he repeated, “Mama has happy tears,” he nodded his little chin emphatically as if to convince himself that it was so.
Clearing his throat to stifle the emotions bent on exposing his grief, Dirk patted his son’s pudgy hand, “So she says,” he whispered.
True to his word, Dirk found Pastor Wells waiting outside his barn several days later. The pastor settled down proficiently on the nearest milk stool and set to work with years of experience evident.
“Do you read, Dirk?”
The abrupt question surprised the young man. “As often as time allows. Mostly in the winter months.”
“I thought as I rode over here this morning about my grandfather. Bear with me as an old man reminisces. It was years ago, but I still remember. One bitter winter morning Gramps helped me unexpectedly with my chores. Finding him in the barn in the wee hours of the day left a pleasurable memory for the rest of my life. I had anticipated hours of lonely work that frigid morning; instead, my grandpa told stories that made me laugh. Chores never went by so fast. More importantly, I think of him every time the temperature drops and smile with how he brightened my day that cold winter dawn.”
The pastor moved stiffly from the stool. “Dirk, people write pages in the story of our lives. At the time you don’t realize it, but they do. Some people leave small impressions; just a sentence here or there, fragrances that drift across our pages and linger faintly in our memories, but others leave chapters that change the outcome of our lives. Whether small or great, they impact us. Elizabeth wrote in your manuscript, Dirk, but maybe not as many pages as you might think. You may look back in ten years or so and realize that in the scope of your life, it proved a short, painful chapter; perhaps just a pivotal point for the coming scenes. In hindsight, it may be Selena that ends up as the main character.”
Dirk positioned his own stool by the next cow. “Maybe,” he paused contemplating the analogy. “I feel like my novel ended two years ago. I slammed the cover shut the day Elizabeth left, and I haven’t opened it since.”
“I understand you may think that it ended, but your book never ends until you pass from this life into the next. The authors keep on writing. You just don’t realize they’ve been doing it, son, because you keep rereading the agonizing part over and over. Look around you, Dirk. Your life moved on. Move past that painful chapter and start living.”
“How do you do that?”
“I think that’s an important point. You don’t do it alone. Only God can give you courage to step over the rubble and move past it. And interestingly, you may be surprised what he uses to make that happen. When my grandfather helped me that cold winter day, I never thought, ‘This will impact me for the rest of my life.’ Rarely do we recognize what God uses at the moment, but He does. Our part is just to offer our past to Him.”
The pastor gave the younger man time to think before he continued. “Can you think of another period in your life that seemed painful at the time but looking back you realize that God used it to shape you into who you are today?”
Dirk thought for some time before answering. “My mother’s death,” he replied flatly. “I remember sitting at her side for weeks watching her struggle for every breath. I thought I would go mad. I was so young, and she was all I had.”
Grief lowered his voice so that the pastor stopped what he was doing to hear. “Day after day, she lingered. At the time it seemed like torture, but years later, I cherished every moment by her side. Now, I can see that some good did come from it. Losing my mother led me to Julia. I longed for family, and Julia’s family filled that void.” The men resumed their silent vigil.
“Hmm, I guess there’s more,” Dirk continued, the parallels flowing from him. “My loss made me different from the other boys at school. Life became more focused, precious, I suppose. I think her death even made me love Wade more than I ever could have had I not known love and loss.” He looked up from his task, “I see what you’re trying to say.”
“Good, spend some time dwelling on those ideas. You’ll find that God can overcome your past. He’s quite good at it. For now, work on building a friendship with that wife of yours.”