16

“Mom, can you meet me at the prayer garden? I need you.” My voice shook more from lack of sleep than the November morning chill. My confidence began to shake in the wee hours of the morning. Scott’s enemy, the fear beast, rose up. I could almost see it, feel it, even taste the wicked, sulfur torture it rained on Scott.

My heart heaved with sorrow at the remembrance of his face when he broke up with me. He didn’t want to. He loved me. Somewhere in his plagued mind he thought I’d be better off without him.

Far from it. My prayers for him tore me to pieces. Why couldn’t I get peace? Instead of feeling victorious, the enemy crept up inside my heart. Where was that fighting spirit from the night before? Did God mean that I should let him go? I’d been able to handle the breakup when I thought it was temporary, just until Scott conquered his fears. But now the possibility remained that maybe he was right.

The cold bench on the gazebo left my bones aching.

“Bailey, are you all right?” Mom stepped up on the gazebo floor and stopped, her brow furrowed.

“Mom, I didn’t hear you. Thanks for coming. I’m sorry. I couldn’t even remember whether you were off today or not.” I held out my hand to her.

“You rarely disturb me at work, so I thought it might be important. It didn’t take much for me to get away. What’s wrong?” She put her arm around me. “Good heavens, you’re freezing.”

“We’ll go inside in a minute. I just needed to talk to you. I’ve been praying here all morning and I’m worse off now than when I began.”

“What is it, sweetie?” She pulled my head onto her shoulder.

“It’s Scott. He broke up with me.” No tears would come, but the shivering began again.

Mom simply sighed and pulled me closer.

“I know he loves me, and so I didn’t take it too seriously. Maybe I should have. Mom, I could almost see fear with two hands around his throat choking the life out of him.” Now the tears came.

“It’s normal for a heart attack victim to experience fear. Toppy thinks it’s combining with the fear he experienced when his mother got sick, then Paul. He’s never really grieved.”

“I can see that now. He certainly helped hold me together during my ordeal. He didn’t deal with his own raging heart while trying to be there for me. I’ve prayed all morning for him, and now I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That he’s right. That we won’t get married after all. Mom, I love him so much.” I let my hurt dissolve me.

She held me as I sobbed, rocking me gently back and forth.

I lifted my head and attempted to gain composure. “Whether we marry or not, I still have to fight for him. He can’t go on like this. What do I do?”

“You amaze me, dear. He’s broken your engagement, yet you are still concerned for him. I don’t sense even a hint of anger in you. That’s a pretty deep love.” She slipped her coat off and wrapped it around my shoulders.

I stood and began pacing. “What do I do? Should I move in with you, or go back to the apartment with Mandy and Macy?”

“You keep praying for Scott. Stand your ground. Didn’t you promise to stay through this fall? You have several weekends booked at the inn. I suggest you just keep praying, do your job, and wait. Toppy and I are praying too. I think Toppy has some kind of plan for intervention.”

“Intervention? What do you mean?”

“He’s been talking to Pastor Weatherby. He’s passing through here soon, and he said he’d talk to Scott. We’ll pray toward that meeting. In the meantime, dry your tears, and let’s kick this fear out of here.” She grabbed my hand and started praying. “Father, we don’t know what will happen, but we put it all in Your hands. You haven’t given us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind. Please give Scott the power to overcome his fears. He needs a sound mind in all these things. He has plenty of love, but it’s muddled with his grief and heartbreak. You are his healer. Father, You are his God. Please reach out to the Holy Spirit in him and remind him that he belongs to You, not to fear. I pray that he will let his grief come out, that he will talk to Toppy and Pastor Weatherby. Bless them with the insight to minister to him.”

Peace found its way into my heart again. Determination ran through my body like electric current. I stood and joined Mom.

“I agree, Father, and I add to those prayers that You please give me strength. Help me to know what to do. What to say, or not to say. I’m willing to wait, but in the meantime, let me be a help, not a hindrance. Help me not to give in to fear, and help Scott to recognize his true heart, and let You heal it. And, please, Father, help us find my necklace.”

Together we prayed, “In Jesus name.”

“I was going to pray for you, but you took care of that yourself.” Mom smiled and then embraced me.

I leaned into her arms and released a deep, cleansing breath.

“You lost your necklace? I hadn’t noticed that. It sometimes hides under your blouses.”

“I took it off because it had a little knot and tangled my hair. I know I put it on the coffee table in the inn. I’ve looked everywhere, even places where I know it can’t be. I’ve been fighting against destructive thoughts about it. Thoughts that maybe it’s a sign that I’m losing everything again.”

“No way, remember how we just prayed? I felt an incredible peace come over my heart, and the good Lord doesn’t give that without reason.” Mom gave a declarative pat to my knee and let her hand rest there.

“It’s not over yet, but I do feel better, more confident. That old devil wants to ruin our lives, but I won’t let him.” I put my hand on hers.

“You’ve grown so much these last months. You could look at this struggle as a good thing.” She pulled me to a stand.

“A good thing?” A battle, yes, but one I’d rather not have to fight.

“Scott will conquer this in the Lord’s ways and in His time. He’ll be a much better husband because of it.”

“I’ll take that.” I squeezed her hand. “Let’s go in, and I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Sounds good to me, then I’m headed back to work.”

“Thanks for coming, Mom.”

“You’ll always be my little girl. Don’t worry, that necklace will turn up.”

~*~

I turned the heat on in the inn after Mom left. I needed to get focused on the work of the day. Under the circumstances, I’d probably not show up at the diner for work. My commitment had been to the inn, and at the inn I would stay.

The appointment book lay open on Shelley’s desk. Three weekends booked from Thanksgiving until the week before Christmas. My now-postponed December 21st wedding would be a working weekend. The large family scheduled for that weekend would keep me busy. Good. Three children and Christmas. There’d be plenty to occupy my mind.

With Thanksgiving only three days away, I’d clean the inn from top to bottom, inside and out. Only one couple was booked for the night before Thanksgiving, one room, but vigorous cleaning would help keep my mind busy.

Joel and Cindi Cummings, on furlough from the mission field in the Philippines, had booked that one night. It would be fun to talk to them. Gran had loved to support missionaries. She’d often invited them to stay at Pinewood Manor when they’d visited her church.

A phrase Gran often said trailed through my mind. “Of all things that ever were or ever shall be. It’s beyond me, but God is in control.”