Between the Lines
It’s never too late to do the right thing
May 27th, 2022
Chapter 12: BOTH – Just Five Minutes Peace
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)
The game was already underway when they arrived. Well attended, people poured off the bleachers, and adjoining fields were teaming with excitement, high-fives and jubilant kids as other soccer games were underway. This particular game boasted the most, however; everyone came to see Zachary play. He had become an anomaly. Jessie unearthed the kids from their seats, wishing they hadn’t given into the demand for ‘just one w’ttle piece of candy, Daddy, pwease?!’ They were bouncing across the field before he could open the door for his girl. Jessie looked Shan deep in her eyes, her beautiful clear blue eyes, and conveyed strength and hope and perhaps finally an end to all the searching. They had come so far to get here, right here, to this moment, this place, this time.
‘You good, babe?’ he asked. And she nodded, biting her lip, swallowing years of unshed emotion, refusing to let the guilt win with which Satan wanted to hammer her. Jesus nailed it all to the cross, she repeated silently, and turned a huge smile to her husband.
‘I have never been better! But you better run get those babies before someone else does. I’ll be right there, k?’ Jessie took off in the direction of two pint-sized giants who were so beautiful and adorable they stole everyone’s attention no matter where they went. Just five minutes peace, Shanna murmured to herself.
She sighed out loud. ‘God, hi, it’s me.’ Everything, the shame, the self-loathing, the fear and dread, the baby steps, the hurt and loss, the hatred and the hopefulness, the victory, the grace Jesus gave her every moment of every day, the new beginnings and painful lessons that led there—all of it gathered in her throat, and she thought she might choke on all the moments ‘til now. ‘God, thank You. Thank You, God. No matter what happens today, God, I thank You—You brought us here, to this moment and place. Thank You that You have already been into my future, and You have reconciled my past; thank You that Your faithfulness is for all time, for real, and Your mercy is new for me every day.
‘If we are to find Zachary today, God, please, may it be for his good and for Your glory, God, that in all I do today, all we say today, God, You be magnified. Not the circumstances of our past, God, but You; You be high and lifted up; You receive the beauty from my ashes. And if it isn’t to be today, God, or even ever, that we find Zachary—if I am never given a chance to tell that beautiful boy how sorry I am—that has to be okay too, God. Because I gave it—my past and my son—to You. And in Your hands, God, it is—what I gave You—is clay, and I know You can make anything out of what we yielded to You. Thank You, God. Go with us now, please God. I don’t want to take one step apart from where You, God, lead. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.’ Shanna looked up and across the field, and as she stepped out of the car onto the grass, she thought she could see the outline of her little family. She smiled and swiped at watercolor eyes as she began jogging toward them.
Shanna had a group of girls she still ran with whom she had met at the Saving Place, the home where her angel had led her that day so long ago, out from under the bridge into new life. These girls were the best friends she’d ever had. In fact, she didn’t know friendships could be like this. All she had ever known was stabbings and slayings from gabby, begrudging girls. They had been skeptical about today and questioned if Shan and Jessie even put themselves here. A couple of those girls waited at the far end of the field for Shanna, a short distance from the goal box where Zachary seemed to spend a lot of time. She couldn’t help the love that seeped from her eyes as they hugged her quickly and grabbed up the twins to go play. It was just she and Jessie now, and the soccer field, and a boy they thought they recognized, the hero of the game, their son.
It had been several months now since Jessie had arrived home from work, pasty white as if he had seen a ghost or maybe ate something foul and was about to be sick. He had insisted Shan sit down with him right away, and she knew something was up because he let the kids get lost in their favorite TV show. As soon as he told Shan he’d gotten a call from CPS, she felt her breath trickle to nothing. No wonder he looked nearly emaciated! Then Jessie told her he had good news. Maybe! CPS and good news were not words that should be grouped in the same sentence, Shan had blanched. Jessie continued to describe the phone call, and with every word he uttered, the cloud of despair and defeat she forced herself to climb out from under everyday began to dissipate. Zachary’s parents (which didn’t sound right coming off Jessie’s tongue since she was his parent, Jessie was his parent) had reached out to CPS and asked if child services could help them locate Zachary’s blood mother or father to possibly arrange a time to meet. It appeared that Zachary was wanting to know where he came from, needing some answers, who, why. What did they think?
Immediately, Jessie and Shanna leapt at the second chance given to them, but a wise word (they wanted to deny but couldn’t) warned them inwardly to be cautious and patient. What they really yearned to do was say how soon can you get here, yet they knew a Holy God now whose Spirit whispered within them and said, ‘Wait on Me.’ Methodically, they asked questions, and honestly, they returned answers, and eventually, they received the go-ahead to move forward. Today was that day. They had decided to quietly slip onto the sidelines of Zachary’s game and life, to simply watch him in action. From what they had been told, he was a small-town hero, the MVP of his sport, soccer.
Proudly but quietly, Jessie and Shanna watched with awe. Zachary wasn’t just good; he was amazing, gifted, spectacular! He played the game like he had grown up on a soccer field and the ball was merely an extension of his foot. It was like watching a dance, poetry in motion, spellbinding. How had they never heard this miraculous story, this kid named Zachary who had many challenges and fought medical conditions, who had defied odds and was now a soccer phenomenon?! They were in astonishment and anxious more than ever to meet Zachary, to get to know the son they’d had taken away. From a grave distance, they were able to also view Zachary’s parents, the ones who had helped him come this far. As tears trickled down Shan’s face, she knew what had transpired back then had truly been in Zachary’s best interest. He had flourished; he was thriving. His family had been able to give him this.
They were silently dignified in their support of him, shouting out things like, ‘Go get ‘em, Champ!’ and ‘Zachary, you got this!’ and ‘You’re not only our hero, Zachary; you are everyone’s hero!’ Next to his parents sat a pretty teenage girl, assumably his sister, the one who had needed a little brother to make the family complete, Jessie smiled from the memory of how that stung then but how now it resonated. In addition, an outrageous fan who couldn’t keep still nor quiet, kept jumping to her feet, pounding the air, hollering as if her life depended on his goals. ‘Fast Zach!’ she chanted. ‘Time for one more, fast Zach!’ she shouted. Who was this woman? Jessie wondered. She was comical almost, but he could tell how much Zachary was buoyed by her attention and affection. She was the person Zachary looked to as he ran past.
And then for one silly second it almost seemed like he locked eyes with Jessie, as he advanced the ball down the field, setting himself for another goal. Stop and go, stop and go, stop and go. Then he looked up, the goal in his sight, and then beyond, and bingo! Jessie could swear Zachary stared right at him, saw him, and better yet, knew him, as if they were long lost from one another and had at once found each other again. For one long moment, their gaze met. Then the moment was past, and Zachary got back to business. Stop and go. The crowd was going mad. No one sat any longer, everyone standing. The kid was a magician, juggling the soccer ball like a pro, hyping up the crowd even more, working his audience, and they loved him. And then it happened.
No one would ever be able to replicate again even if they tried what happened in the blink of an eye. One moment Zachary was wooing his admirers, and the very next, he lay on the field, his face buried in the grass, lifeless, a rod jutting straight through him, the ‘OOMPH!’ he uttered as he fell, hanging and echoing in the air. Oh my God! the crowd gasped, stunned, nobody could believe what they witnessed.
It was none other than Shanna who reached Zachary first. It hadn’t been but a second and she was there. Like vapor, she materialized next to him, blocking out the shocked whispers and demands, ‘Who is that woman?’ many asked no one in particular. She didn’t care. Shanna could careless; that was her baby lying comatose on a cold, hard and wet field of grass. Just five minutes peace, she murmured as she sprinted toward Zachary.
‘Ma’am,’ someone gently spoke, then began tossing out instructions. ‘Make way for his coach. An ambulance has been called. I’m sure you know this, but don’t touch him. We know you are concerned for your son, but can you step aside?’ Like an out-of-body experience, Shan watched herself move back, out of the way, and she even heard herself speak through her tears, ‘I’m not his mother; let me go get her.’ Shan saw herself scan the crowd, and at once, the woman who she had been admiring from a distance joined her. The lady took her by the arm, tugging her, bringing her back to where Zachary lay unconscious.
She stared deep into Shanna’s eyes, ‘He needs both of us right now. Please stay.’ And then hollering at the group huddled around Zachary, the lady commanded, ‘Make room. Now! Zachary needs both his moms.’ Turning back to Shanna, she whispered, ‘Will you sing him that song, please, while we wait. I know he can hear you sing to him.’
Shanna was crying openly, wildly, so hard she could barely contain herself. She could not believe, nor could she fathom what God was doing in this moment, but there was no time to question. She glanced around her, found Jessie watching her as he stood anxiously next to Zachary’s ‘other’ father, and felt his approval. It all seemed so surreal. Slowly, she knelt next to the lifelessness of her little boy, and she began to sing, ‘Skinamarinky dinky doo, skinamarinky doo, I love you…’
Psalm 68:5-6a, ‘A Father to the fatherless, a Defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families and He leads out the prisoner with singing.’ (NIV)
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.
