Between the Lines
BETWEEN THE LINES: a Mother’s Love
It’s never too late to do the right thing
May 16th, 2022
Chapter 7: BEFORE – Irreconcilable Differences
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)
Looking back on life now, Shan realized she saw it through a variant lens. God, it hurt to look back. Sometimes she couldn’t breathe, it hurt so bad. She had lost so much, and she had hurt more than there were words, had been wrung out like a wet bar rag. Once she’d had everything, and suddenly, now she had nothing.
She felt raw. She’d had a baby. Suddenly. At once, Zachary had arrived. The birth was traumatic. The aftermath was irreconcilable. And now, Shan had lost not only her baby, but also her man.
Irreconcilable differences. The words rolled off Shan’s tongue like a foreign phrase. They swelled and were too swollen in her mouth to make sense. What she and Jessie had succumbed to, what they had become, was paltry and insufficient for the day. God, she recalled when they sweat each other out of their pores, they had burst with the knowledge of one another. They could not live or breathe apart from each other. Life had happened. It hadn’t been easy. Even their friendships had fought them; not supported them, caused her to question their relationship. Probably Jessie did too.
On the day, Zachary was placed in other care, on the day when she no longer had a thing to say about his care at all; on the day when it no longer mattered that she towed the line, Shan lost it. Every broken piece of her she had been setting aside to put toward Zachary’s healing, she lost, annihilated, blew to smithereens.
She and Jessie had come to the hospital. Jessie was on break, and he was able to pick her up too. Every day was a puzzle; they were continually attempting to know what way Child Protective Service’s would lean. There were so many and no guidelines all at once. Suddenly, Zachary was gone. They ran through the hallways of the hospital, screaming his name, in search of their son, empty-handed. Her heart pounded in her chest, every infant cry, a challenge, a reminder.
CPS had placed their son in protective services. They hadn’t any warning. Well…they knew but they did not, and there is no way to prepare for such. They rode home in silence, the words of what they had been through thick on her tongue and Jessie staring straight through the windshield as if he rode alone in the car. They tried; they tried to communicate; they tried to relate and reach one another, but there were so many issues and feelings, raw and vibrant, it felt impossible to overcome. Shan recalled for so long what it felt to pack a bag for herself, and also one for her son, just in case; to wrap her hurt around her as a protective barrier, a blanket.
They tried. They tried for a long moment, a hot minute. They had been encouraged, she and Jessie were, to stay strong, be united, appear as one, not lose sight of one another. They had been promised their life would be returned to them, it would come back, don’t give up or give in. But the way he looked at her, so much remorse seething through, so much blame, and all the gall she wore on her wrist like a watch, like a blood pressure cuff, they neither one could move past it.
Irreconcilable differences. What a huge statement. It made her so sad as she threw the last of her important possessions in her bag and stuttered toward the door, her feet a staccato dance. Would she get a call about the baby when he was released to them or would Jessie? Who would know their son was theirs again? Or would neither know? Would they fade into a new tomorrow with no reconciliation about the past? Would there ever be any closure? Would she ever feel this way? Ever again? Her heart wept on the floor as she imagined Zachary and what he was doing just now, like her heartbeat was fluid and bruised and able to run free. God, why had she let herself go? she’d lost so much; they had lost so much. This is it, Shanna thought; a new day. But it sure only feels old and painful and useless.
Psalm 138:8, ‘The Lord will perfect that which concerns me.’
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.
