Stolen

Stolen, 11.17.2013

It was hard to wake up. The sunlight pouring through my window was like sultry fog from a world of ghosts and shadows. There was nothing safe and inviting about the daylight. Just another change in the world as it spun through space. Alien planet. Alien dawn. Alien girl…

I had it all planned out, you know. I went down and spent my whole little savings account on real, professional cosmetics. I had a new dress, sapphire blue and black and curvy to my body. The boots from Nina. My own way of making sultry curls in my hair. It was going to be perfect, you know. Signing in the church, appearing confident and healed and a league above the little Heartland student under campus restrictions and underdeveloped social sphere. It was going to be perfect, you know?

But all the planning made me.. paralyzed, at first. Sick to my stomach and shaky as I climbed out of bed. I had to start the day on my knees in prayer. I knew if it was left to me, it would all be failure. But if God was placed in control, if I just yeilded all my efforts to him… maybe something beautiful could come from this sad day.

Even waking up extra, extra early, I still ran out of time. I tried not to feel rushed as I put on my hand-me-down Navy coat and locked the apartment door. The beautiful pencil dress was a lucky find from the thrift store, too. The safety pins tucking in the excess from my bodice dug into my skin, a silent reminder I was lacking something major in the deparment of beauty most other girls had. It was cold outside, but the sunshine golden. I carefully navigated the stairs in my skyscraper stilletto heels. At least the boots were designer. They always felt more comfortable in Ukraine. I’m not sure if it is the different altitude or what. Definitely more of a challenge in Oklahoma City, though.

As I took the last few steps, my car came into view. My car, and… a pair of very dirty sneakers peeking out from under gravel-dragging jeans. My steps hesitated. This was a first.

Two more steps and I was on the ground and facing the most bizarre scene. Zoila sat there, violated, car doors wide open. And I could see the disarray inside from a dozen yards away. A black man with a black tee shirt and baggy jeans stood by the car, looking at it. He looked at me, and I brushed by him to venture a look myself.

I dumped my change of clothes onto the passenger seat and tried not to cry out in horror. Someone had attacked the inside of my car. Ripped up the back seats, threw everything around… dug through my Levi box. My camera, my beautiful graduation gift… gone… My gym bag, with my trusty pair of running shoes, my Asics… gone… My wallet, with pictures of Kat and Jon… my security badge for work, for the apartment…

But it was the trunk. The canvass with our picture? The Christmas gift you never saw. The one we were going to hang over our couch, the one that hung over my bed this summer. Gone. And even worse… Oswald, the penguin. And Fevraal… the first gift you ever gave me as a couple. The puppy dog I took with me to Ukraine on the plane. Who wore the scent of your cologne and watched over me as a I slept. Gone… gone… gone.

I tried not to lose it. Really, I did. And I did okay. Maybe let a few salty words out when Kendon came to file the claim with security. Maybe a little furious in my tone of the phone with mom when she called today my “weak” day. And yes, I cried. A lot. But I prayed. And I asked God why, but I recited the verse from Job over and over and over in my head. Reeling in the shock of what had happened, and the unexpectedness of it all. How do you prepare for something like that? You don’t. You just roll with it.

Roll with it.

Hadn’t I wanted to go to the Naval Academy, to face hardships and loss like this every day? Where was that girl who was capable of enduring everything? It was time to find her again.

I drove to church, mascara streaming through the tears. But the grip on the wheel was determined. God, if you take everything from me, I swear I’m not going to give up. If you take away every memory of him, if you take it all, I’m not going to give up on what You can do.

But the hollow ache in my head knew that I had nothing left now. Fevraal was gone. Oswald. I would never get them back, never see them again, never have a reminder of the days when my Levi loved me back. The tears kept coming. I tried to picture what had happened in Heaven last night. Did Satan request this of God? That maybe I would cave in and curse God if he took my greif just a little bit deeper? Or did God allow this for his own mysterious reason?

“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The verse was my lifeline. I drove to work, in shock. My ash tray had been ripped out and taken. The glove box was empty, my wallet gone, my car insurance gone. At least the turtle from Levi, the boxing gloves from Steven, and my graduation tassel still hung from the rearview mirror. Thanks, theif, for leaving me something.

I parked in my usual spot but sat there a minute, repeating that verse to myself. How could I sing? How could I go inside and see Levi with Anna, completely oblivious to the horror going on in my life this morning, and not lose it?

My sleeping bag had been unrolled and was strewn among the scattered papers and debris in the back seat. I didn’t want anyone coming by and think that was the usual condition of my car. After all, my car was the only reflection I had of myself to the outside world. So I got outside and took off my jacket and spent time wrestling the seats back into place and folding everything up. I found a few heartbreaking momentoes among the debris… the wreath of flowers for the flower girl in our wedding, the letter GiGi wrote Levi and he gave to me for safekeeping…

I pushed it all back into the trunk and put the seats up. The car looked surprisingly normal. No one walking by would notice. Not even Levi. Not that he would actually care what was happening to me. I was no longer of any concern or interest to him, safely blithely detached in his new world.

Inside, I had to go to the rest room first thing and check out the mirrors. My perfect makeup was completely ruined. I had to laugh, a bit hysterically, at the scene. What had been the point of getting up so early? I took a wet tissue to the blobs of black and gold smears. By the time I got my face somewhat decent, all the carefully-applied foundation was gone and the natural discoloration of my skin was glaringly evident, uneven white with red blemishes. Great. Absolutely great.

 God, I sure hope you know what you’re doing.

Practicing for the ensamble special got me back on the present. I was walking on the a very fine tighrope today, debuting into the spotlight of a massive church under the highly critical microscpoe of some very real enemies. I wanted coffee so badly, a latte with warm milk and cinnamon. I wanted Nina’s kind eyes and Steven’s strong arm to sheild me. But it was easy to forget my circumstance when I had to step up onto the stage in front of the whole choir and practice for my solo. My face was so red and my voice shook. Trevor didn’t miss a note and Bro. Jude gave me the thumbs up. I carefuly put the microphone back down and tried not to feel woozy. I was terrified.

After choir practice, I ran out to the car to get my binder. I could look over the lyrics one last time during the opening moments of Sunday School. And I ran into Ms. Grace, carrying baby Jarred into church for the first time. I offered to help – but she declined kindly. I wanted to start crying and ask her to pray for me, thinking of how she and Bro. John listened to my tears in the summer when Levi first left me – but I couldn’t bring myself to be so selfish. They had a family now and his mom was dying. My heartbreak was nothing compared to the importance of the things in their life.

Carrying the binder back in, I saw Levi. He was greeting some girls on the stairsway and hanging out in the foyer with a large caramel frappe from McDonalds, just like old times. That was the problem. Nothing had changed. My spine tingled with electricity and my stomach did butterflies, notice me, Levi! notice me! they sang; but my feet were headed firmly into the church and away from him, releived I didn’t have to try to head to Sunday School and face the delimna of him blocking my route. I doubt he even saw me, but I didn’t look back to check. He was waiting for his girlfriend at the friend of the church, bright and early, on the morning of our one year anniversary. I hadn’t even crossed him mind, and I wouldn’t. Because nothing had changed. He just never changed. It was hopeless. I was alone with my loss, with the grief.

God, let me see you today.

It’s all I have left, anyways. My hands turned cold and my body tensed up the closer it got to time to sing my special. It was just Sunday School, and I was only nervous about tripping on the stairs, or forgotting the exact tempo of an enterence. When I walked up to take the microphone, it was like time sped up. It all was happening too fast for me to absorb or enjoy.

I saw Mrs. Sprague in the back, smiling broadly at me. Mrs. Betty Jo was proudly supporting me in the front row. Kendon, home sick, so there was no one from my family. Bailey, probably late from bus, so there wasn’t a single friend. Just church people in a church that didn’t know I existed, that catered to Levi and his girlfriend just a couple rooms over.

As I sang the song… my heart filled up, along with my eyes, with intensity. The song was about hiding in God. About finding my peace, my safe haven, my crash landing, in Him. And more than ever, singing about his protection, about being all alone but under his watchcare, with my car outside a testiment to that… I was overwhelmed. This song was so right. This song was my lifeline today, and Levi wasn’t even here to hear it. I wish he could know. I wish everyone could know how good God is.

It would have been better with a cello, but maybe I can work that out when if I get to sing for the main service. Then it would be truly perfect.

They lyrics go like this….

I’ve found a secret place of comfort and release

A special place of healing, a quiet place of peace.

And everyone who goes there finds rest beneath His wings

In the shade of his pavilion, new strength he always brings.

I find hope, I find grace, far away from the world’s embrace,

He gives me rest, he keeps my safe, I find his will, I seek his face

In the secret place.

That verse spoke of the amazing truth that when Levi left my life, and I ran crying through the night, I ran into God’s waiting arms. And he has never stepped away and left me on my own. As long as I need his comfort, it is there. And it’s not just there for me, but for everyone. Someday, I hope to be able to share this with someone and make a differene for them, too. His pavillion… it’s like church, but broader. It’s this entire network of believers God has placed in my life. From Yakima, Washington to South Carolina to Kharkov, Ukraine and in between.

And what can this world offer? Nothing but sex. And lies. And bitterness. But God? God keeps me safe, even when he lets my car be robbed, he protects me. He has a will for me, and he wants to grow me. But when I’m weary, he is there for me. He has a secret place of rest for me.

The second verse was harder to sing, because it rang true for my present circumstances, thrust upon me just that morning. My voice broke up, and then quavered so badly I had a hard to finishing the verse and getting back on track, but I managed to. No one here understood why these words meant so much to me, first of all, and that helped me focus on a detached presentation; and secondly, I was so afraid if I actually cried, Bro. Don wouldn’t let me sing again in church.

But the words still meant everything.

With every trial he brings, the Lord will make a way

To strengthen and protect me, to help me face each day.

He leads me through the shadows and draws me closer still,

Knowing even in the valley I find his perfect will.

I finished singing and put the microphone down and walked out of the auditorium. The tears were just at bay when Bailey came running down the back stair way and crushed me in a hug.

“I was there! I heard the whole thing!” she told me joyously.

And I burst into tears, knowing I’d have to face what had happened this morning now and begin to deal with it. Bailey was shocked, outraged… and she gave me an even bigger hug.

“Noelle, I don’t know why God keeps allow you to suffer loss and sorrow. It doesn’t make sense to me. And you stand here, talking about how good God is to you. You are a stronger person than I could ever be, and I admire your faith. God has something special for you, Noelle.”

What an encouragement… I don’t deserve a friend like Bailey. Kind, and true, and faithful. I gave her a hug back and walked to Sunday School. I didn’t care where I sat among strangers in that class, because my mind was a year in the past. When I sat with Levi, when we were planning brunch after church. When he brough me roses. No one in the class said a word to me, but I didn’t care. I swept in, and swept out, and tried not to think about Levi sitting with Anna. I deliberately didn’t look. This day wasn’t about today. It was about a year ago.

In choir, I wasn’t sure if Levi would walk out when I came down for the ensamble special. Probably not, since I was in a big group. I’m sure he wouldn’t notice me at first. Maybe not at all, if he was too busy flirting and whispering with Anna. But I wondered. Part of me wanted to find them and look at them while I sang, but I didn’t follow up on the urge, because I knew it wasn’t from God. I was singing for Him, not for them.

The lights glowed brilliantly off my gold belt and set my hair shining. I was glad I’d gone European, even though I stuck out from the ugly tea-length skirts and shapeless sweaters of the older ladies. I hope that he saw me. I hope it shocked him to see me standing there on the platform, a league away from where he left me crying in the snow.

Fevraal may be gone, but I put on a smile from my soul and sang. I sang, because I loved God now more than I ever did back then. And I hope that maybe, Levi would notice the change. And Tim. And Micah and Beckah. And Jed. And all his friends.

But when I went back into the choir, I knew that it wouldn’t make a difference to Levi. And the greif deep inside me still ached. How could one year have changed so much? I didn’t know, and I never ever would.