“Ding . . . you’ve got mail.” The computer calls out.
Christie sits at her desk holding her favorite, delicate little china cup that sings to her.
“It’s kind of funny how life goes on even after my world has been turned upside down. I don’t know why, it seems pointless. It’s been two years since Ryan left me for my best friend. Will there ever be enough time to fully heal? My life has stopped spinning enough for me to keep my business head connected. I got everything I wanted in the divorce, but is it enough? My heart is still bruised.”
Her cup hums to her when she runs her fingers around the lip of it. The aroma of good, rich coffee provides comfort. Her old leather chair resonates with creaks and squeaks. The feel of real leather is comforting, forming just right to her body. Anything that is familiar is welcome. It makes for kind of an anchor in her life. Her senses were blown to bits by her husband December 22 nearly two years ago. She is still in the process of trying to retrieve all the little pieces and try to stitch them back together, one broken piece at a time.
“I continue to forgive him to keep the web of hatred from my soul. My act of forgiveness will place him into the hands of God, and I know that He loves me – I can trust Him.
“Ryan is not my concern anymore. I forgive him and bless him. That’s the way to purge my heart of any internal poison. It doesn’t mean that the pain has gone away, but the surgery is over. With God’s help, I will heal. Destruction always hurts.
“Ryan and Sheila have their own spiritual problems with which to deal. They’re trying to make a new life grow in the soil of sin and that never works. I do pray for them, they’ll need it.”
Her thoughts return to the announcement of mail, and she puts her cup down to see who is contacting her. She looks like a beautiful, sophisticated woman with soft features. Her pristine skin glows in the light of the fireplace. No one would think that she has two grown daughters.
“Oh, I have a message on Facebook. I guess I’ll check it. I’m glad I finally signed up so I could find out what the girls are up to. Hmmm … It looks like the usual chatter. I hope they’re healing too. They were in shock when they found out what had happened. Sometimes one or the other calls just to cry, and I pray for them. If Ryan only knew how widespread the pain would be when he made his selfish decision. But he probably didn’t care. He was being blinded by lust.”
Scanning all the happenings, she props her elbow on the desk and rests her cheek in her hand. As her eye wanders over to the far right, a spark of recognition strikes her.
“Who? Well, hello, cutie. I think I may know you.
“Hmmm . . . he looks familiar – too familiar.”
Rubbing her head to clear it she says, “Who is . . . .” She sits back, closes her eyes and reaches into her memory.
“Oh, I know . . . I went to college with him. He was in one of my classes. I remember how he used to invite me for coffee, but I was dating Ryan at the time. Poor guy, he never had a chance. I wonder what he’s up to now. I think, just for fun, I’ll look at his page. I wonder what he’s been doing.
“Apparently he’s single. How could that be? He was such a nice guy, and it says he still lives in the city. I think I’ll contact him – just to see. It would be nice to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t know about the pain I’ve been through. We could just be average people and not just stitched up pieces trying to act normal. He used to be so much fun – at least he was then. He intrigues me. Hmm . . . .”
As Christie ponders this new development, Romans 8:28 comes to mind.
“And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His purposes.”
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