Between the Lines
It’s never too late to do the right thing
May 9th, 2022
Chapter 4: AFTER – the Storm
Ephesians 3:20, ‘Never doubt God’s mighty power to work in you and accomplish all this. He will achieve infinitely more than your greatest request, your most unbelievable dream, and exceed your wildest imagination! He will outdo them all, for His miraculous power constantly energizes you.’ (TPT)
‘Zachary! Zachary! Over here!’ ‘No! Zachary! Here!’ The implosion of excitement and sensory stimuli, the beautiful blue day and spring birds absorbed any anxiety Zachary might have once wrestled with. He’d come a long way. He wasn’t built for this, but if God brought him to it then already God had put everything inside of him to get through it. Zachary loved a good God, a faithful God. He understood these concepts maybe even more than most adults did. He had been through a lot in his dozen years, so he’d learned a lot. He had no choice.
‘Hi, Zach-a-ry.’ Three girls waltzed past him, kicking dirt in the air, giggling and twittering. ‘What’s ya doing?’ They giggled again, nails on the chalkboard to Zachary. He grinned back.
‘Well, I…I’m standing here in the sun, an…and the wind, like you, LOL;’ Zachary stammered, ‘Much like you. What are you doing?’ Once upon a short time ago, Zachary wouldn’t even have been here, let alone giggling with admiring girls. Though his heart raced within him, he felt at peace and confident and hopeful for the game. Forty-five minutes to GAMETIME; time to suit up! Zachary was a legend in the soccer line-up.
Not long ago, Zachary had no idea about the game of soccer, let alone how to play it! Who knew?! He was a soccer star! It was laughable, he thought, really; there was nothing special about his ability, but he wasn’t going to tell them that! Soccer was a mathematical equation to him, a grid, a series of plays, offenses and defenses and timing, always timing. His parents had been encouraged to try a sport that would switch, focus and channel his stimuli and it was working!
A couple hours later and a few hundred high-fives and nearing a thousand claps and shouts, an adrenalin-boosted Zachary rode on a magic carpet to the family-mobile. He was sopping wet, wearing a cooler of ice, some even still melting in his pockets. They had body-surfed him; he’d felt like a real champ, a complete sport. The track of tears happily crusted on his face no longer embarrassed him. What a game!
‘Well, champ!’ His dad began, loud, emphatic, normal. ‘We’re proud of you! Three of those four goals are yours! Amazing, star!’ Nobody more than his dad knew just how incredi-goal this really was! Zachary traveled with Autism, Asperger’s on board as his trip companion. All his life so far had been a puzzle, one piece slowly at a time fitting into place. But the ‘puzzle’ was like an ember, burning slow, wavering, dancing, growing still and going almost out; being fanned again, catching fire, flaming once more, to start the whole slow death once more. Over and over. He was on fire right now.
‘How’d you feel about that game? You were the champ again!’ his dad seemed astonished, which really didn’t bother Zachary. His dad didn’t mean anything by it, really. He peered in the rearview mirror; automatically, Zachary blushed. ‘Unreal, Dad. Really!’ Zachary grinned. Then a cloud crossed over. He grew silent, something he couldn’t explain ate at him, a niggling tugged someplace deep inside.
‘Hey, you okay, Zachary?’ His mom had turned in her seat until she nearly faced him. ‘You got really quiet all of a sudden!’ she remarked. His sister stared at him too, watching his face closely, concerned and caring. That used to mean a storm, often volatile and uncontrollable, but for the last several seasons, that storm had roiled elsewhere or was calmed naturally and easily. ‘You alright, buddy?’ she too asked cautiously.
As they drove home, so many emotions assaulted Zachary as his good feeling and hopeful promise ebbed and flowed. Like a wave, his happiness and victorious glee rolled out and the hopelessness and fright and lostness rolled in. Humongous tears gathered in his eyes and slid like melting ice down his cheeks. He wanted so badly to hide what he could not explain; he was alarming his parents; he hated that most of all.
The car’s interior was lost in the shadows of the passing streetlamps as the dusk became eaten by the night. If he turned his face just so, his worry and sadness was disguised by the night. Suddenly, he felt such a magnetic pull at his heart, Zachary wasn’t able to ignore its persistence. He had never felt so broken, so terribly incomplete and alone, ever, and ironically, all the time, surrounded by his family. The inertia he was swimming against he could not ignore. He was wandering, and it was not something he would be able to pretend much longer did not exist. There was a missing piece to Zachary, and he knew what and who it was, and nothing again would feel right until he figured it out and found his real parents. Maybe that was why he was so good at soccer, another missing piece found and put in place. But he felt lost, untethered, floating, at risk. Somewhere, out there, someone was looking for Zachary too. He just knew it!
‘Zachary? Hey, buddy, what is it? You are struggling with something? How can Mom and I help?’ His parents were the best ever. While all his friends were hiding secrets like contraband, Zachary had an open book deal. No matter his story at any given time, they could lay open the pages for scrutiny, and it was acceptable and okay. No matter what.
Zachary shrugged. His chin dug into his chest; it was so low. His mom and sister had already headed inside through the door from the garage into the house. His dad cornered him, well, kind of. ‘Whatever it is, Zach, let’s work it out together. Better than alone, I promise,’ his dad was soothing, encouraging. ‘It’s okay, Zachary,’ he added. ‘No matter what it is, it’s okay.’
Zachary sighed, so deep his lung hurt. So big, bigger than him. ‘No matter? No matter what?’ He swallowed, just as his mom stepped back into the garage.
‘No matter what, Zachary,’ she said quietly. ‘What is it? What’s bothering you, son?’
Zachary swallowed hard, almost choking. This was so much harder than all the girls at the game cheering and saying his name, the thunderous roar from the stands as he scored another goal. Breathe, he told himself. Breathe. ‘I…I…I want…want to…I want to find my parents. My real parents. Will you help me?’ And a sob escaped him as he broke into several pieces.
Psalm 139:13-16, ‘You formed my innermost being, shaping my delicate inside and my intricate outside, and wove them all together in my mother’s womb. I thank You, God, for making me so mysteriously complex! Everything You do is marvelously breathtaking. It simply amazes me to think about it! How thoroughly You know me, Lord! You even formed every bone in my body when You created me in the secret place; carefully, skillfully You shaped me from nothing to something. You saw who You created me to be before I became me! Before I’d ever seen the light of day, the number of days You planned for me were already recorded in Your book.’ (TPT)
Between the Lines is based upon a true story. What does God’s faithfulness truly look like? Is it the same in every situation? He is wholly trustworthy; therefore, there is victory, even if it doesn’t resemble everything we imagined.
