Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Break (02/06/06)
TITLE: Unspoken Words, Unbroken Hearts
By Andria Cook
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The whisper spilled out from my lips as tears spilled from my eyes. I felt tears running down my cheeks. I felt my eyes burning. I could not feel the pain deep within me that caused those tears.
The tension increased between us as I fell to my knees and watched the man that I love. He stood in silent agony. Torment ripped its way through his body and out through his eyes, peering at me with daggers that pierced through my entire body. Sorrow bled from the emotional wounds caused by his disappointment. I watched. I waited. Tears clouded my vision and I blinked them away fiercely.
“Donna, I cannot make you whole.” Frustrated fingers pulled the baseball cap lower, forcing his ears to poke out awkwardly. Strands of too-long dark curls peeked out from under the cap.
The unspoken word. The unbroken heart. He had tried so many times to fix me. He had tried so many times to make me whole again. He tried to believe for me, he tried to pray for me. He tried. But what about me?
Tears welled up from deep within me. “I tried,” if only he could see the inner agony that I faced. “Really, I tried. Please know that I tried.”
“I do know.” Compassion was winning the struggle within him. I did not deserve his compassion.
“I wanted the baby. Oh, God,” those words hit me as if I just realized my life long dream to become pregnant and carry a child full term had ended. “I wanted the,” the desperate words chocked in my throat, forcing out a mere gurgle followed by sobs.
His large hands stoked my hair. “I know, Donna, please don’t cry.”
“What do you do when faith just isn’t enough?”
“Faith is always enough.” His statement lacked enthusiasm, his tone lacked belief. “Baby, we’ll try again.”
“The money is gone.” Desperation drowned the words in my throat.
“No, we’ll try again. Without the doctors and the calendars, we’ll try. We’ll fast for one week, spending the entire week in prayer. We will get on our face before God, and believe that in our weakness He is made strong. You, woman of valor, are not broken.”
“So you fasted and prayed for a whole week mom?” The bright blue eyes of my seven-year-old captured my heart.
“Yes, Josiah, we fasted and prayed for a whole week, and we believed that God would heal me.”
“And He did heal you, didn’t He, mom?”
“Well, of course He did! How else would you have gotten here?”
“`And that’s why you named me Josiah. Because it means, “God healed me.”
“That’s right! Because you are our miracle!”
“And that’s why God is going to heal me now, mom? That’s why we’re going to beat this Leukemia, right mom?”
“That’s right, Josiah. God has healed you. With God, we are not broken.”
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