Ice Storm

Ice Storm, 11.23.13

I walked out of work Friday and the temperature had nose dived from the mild seventies to the low twenties. Rain fell from the sky and froze on the trees, the ground, the shrubbery. The cars in the parking lot were slicked over with a perfect glaze of ice and snow and the wind beat across the icy ground so furiously it took the breath from my lungs and burned trails of fire on my cheeks.

Everyone was hacking away at the ice and snow. The sky was quickly turning dark, and I let the engine run and heater blow while I found my little de-icer stick and began to strape, whack, and shove away at the ice. It broke and splintered in dull, sharp shards. They slammed into my finger tips and rubbed them raw and throbbing with cold and pain. I was afraid of frostbite, I didn’t have gloves. The icy water trickled down my sleeve and burned my skin. When my fingers began to swell and pulse in freezer burn, I jumped into the car to rub them and blow shaky breaths of hot air onto them. When the throbbed calmed down to a dull ache, I climbed back out to keep hacking away.

It took over an hour to de-ice the car enough to drive off, and I merged carefully onto the traffic on the street. The roads were slick and the radio announced over fifty injury accidents were in the works in the metro alone. I turned on Christmas music but kept it low, strainging to see through the windows that kept fogging up on the inside and icing over again on the outside.

Too afraid to attempt the highway, I crept along the city roads at twenty miles an hour until I reach OnCue on Rockwell. I pulled in and finished de-icing the side windows and back window under the canopy of the gas station, using the cleansing wiper fluid and wiper available to finish the job. Only then did I feel confident to get back on the roads and drive faster, almost near the speed limit.

It took an hour to get to Panera Bread for my second shift. I was glad it was just a prep night and no one was waiting for me to arrive, so my delay wasn’t a big issue. And I was so glad that Levi works earlier in the afternoon so he would have moved his car to work before the ice storm came. As I worked in the back of the house, I wondered if Santana would be iced over when he got off work early in the morning. I wondered sadly if he would be mad if I drove down to de ice his car for him. Or if he had taken the time to de ice Anna’s. And if he even wondered who had been there to help me, and would he have even cared I was all on my own?

I worked, and sang along to Pandora, and wiped the tears when they came. I blamed it on the onoins I was slicing. But the dark blue and purple orbs were not the source of my tears. The tears always came from the same gaping hole in my soul, and no matter what I tried, it never healed up.

Be safe, Levi. Please.

Your star,

Rigel

Top Rookie

Top Rookie, 11.22.13

There were at least some distractions during the break. I walked into recognition meeting bright and early Friday morning and waited nervously to see how well I had done. I knew I had qualified for top rookie; that brought a distinct feeling of pride and accomplishment to my weary soul. God was blessing my hard efforts here just as much as at Panera Bread.

But I certainly wasn’t prepared when they called my name for Top Rookie of the month.

Me? But I’m brand new. Others have been on the floor for half a year. I was stunned and my feet were slow to respond to my brain. But I picked my way to the front and gave a slow speading smile to my supervisor and trainers. Without their kindness and gentle encouragement, this would not have been possible.

I was given fifty dollars. And a plaque. And my very own parking spot at the front of the lot for a whole month.

It was with a degree of shock that I walked back to my desk and put back on my headset. My teammates were estatic, and amused at my quietness. It didn’t make sense to me to win the top prize my very first time running for it.

Apparently my surprise was mistaken for something else, because Brad pulled me into his office to laude me with the statistics that he resulted in my accomplishment. There were twenty one rookies on the floor varying in the six months range of experience, and I had beat all of them. Brad couldn’t overemphasize his satisfaction and the excitement of the company for my success and future career. I guess it was then that it finally all sank in, and I began to giggle. Who would have thought? What would Levi say, if he saw me now?

As I walked back to my desk, I felt a small happiness, a bittersweet memory, surface in my heart. A letter Levi had written to me at Panera Bread in Nichols Hills, in our youngest days together, when he watched me work in the bakery. He called me his hard worked. He said “You could work circles around my guys, baby girl. I would love to have you on my team.” His words had meant so much, even now, I remember them so quickly. I wanted to work at Walmart with him, or him at Panera with me, to be a team. He had turned down Panera and continually thwarted my attempts to apply for Walmart. One of the sharpest pangs regarding Anna is that she works there with him. No stress for time to see each other. All day at school, all night at work, all day at church.

I am glad for the time when he loved me. I hope that he will look back and see that I am trying to live up to the girl he loved. I really am. I wish that I could have worked beside him as a team. That was one of my biggest dreams. I don’t understand why God let Anna have that dream instead; at times it seems so cruel; but who am I, such a lonely foolish girl, to question God’s soverignty?

All I know is I was happy, and so sad all at once.

The greif was always old. And always new.

Loneliness of Break

Loneliness of Break, 11.21.13

Dear Levi,

I helped Bailey and Pearl pack up and get ready to drive off to Kansas for break. I knew my other friends would be whisked away as well. Joy, Mandii, Bethany Steven, Lori Withrow. I didn’t know if Levi would be going away for break or staying to head up Black Friday at Walmart like last year. It was not my business this year, not mine to worry about and pray for his safety… and yet I would still do so. He deserved that of me.

Bailey and Pearl had made me my very own Christmas tree. With a glittery black skirt and black star, and starry white lights. It was very elegant. And absolutely perfect. I hugged them tightly and tried to smile effortlessly, wishing them well. But I knew that I would be so lonely.

As I drove back to work, I tried not to think about tomorrow. When I didn’t have a place to sit in church. When I didn’t have a friend to come hang out with in the dorms and drive to church and buy hot chocolate for. When the quiet would seep into my soul.

It was hard. Hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to feel. I tried my best not to. I just drove, I worked, I smiled, I dressed in nice clothes and pickd up the house and dodged Kendon’s bad moods. But my soul was slowly petrifying into the deep waters of exhaustion and sadness. And I didn’t realize it until looking back that as the warm weather turned into icy blueness of winter, so the days of hope would also pass into days of quiet acceptance.

And it was just a premonition of what Christmas break would be like, and the long summer after that. How could I endure it? God, please help. Please.

Your star,

Rigel

Lenichka Middlebrooks

Lenichka Middlebrooks, 11,21.13

The inevitable day came: my return to campus during the academic week. It was a Tuesday morning, bright, clear, beautiful. The tinge of autumn was floating in the blue sky and tickling the orange-dedazzled trees. The peace outside was a ridiculous contrast to the turmoil burning in my stomach as I awake extra early to shower and style my hair. I searched for warbdrobe options, searched again, and finally ended up with straight black on black on black, classy as my reputation went, with a little edge now that I’m free from hemline critiques. The little black bows down my sheer black nylons peeped out just above the back of my knees where my black suede boots stopped, naked under the sweep of my little black dress hem. If I was going into the fire, I would go well dressed. At least people would have something to talk about, indeed.

But I needn’t have worried. I didn’t see Levi or Tim. Just random staff members and former classmates doing a double take as they hurried by. I smiled as pleasantly as I could. I missed this place, and I wanted to feel that I belonged here again. I wanted a pain gone from my life. I wanted to belong somewhere without any darkness. But the raw bleeding memories were right there, just under the surface of the polished foyer lobby, bouncing from the shining golden chandeliers. I could not be comfortable here, knowing Levi was still here somewhere. It was so cruel. I missed my halcyon days, my days of happiness and innocence. They were never coming back.

Lydia and Josh Middlebrooks met me in the foyer. I still don’t really like her, per say. We dress differently, we think differently, we like different things. And we don’t mesh well. But Lydia is my testament to a second chance. She is my testemant that by long forbearance, a prince is pursuaded and a soft tongue breaketh the bone, to quote Proverbs. She gave me a second chance at building a relationship after hating her so unfoundedly. And her unwavering kindness and compassion had earned by returned loyalty and graditude. Whatever our difference, she was the kind of friend that God would approve of.

To see her holding her baby, when just last year she had been living in our room as a single girl, was incredible. I was overwhelmed by joy for Lydia… and sadness for the son I would never have, my little Levi. I wonder so often, would he have his dad’s enchanting caramel eyes? Or the diamond blue orbs of him mom? Would Chardonnay have soft, dark wisps of hair or freckles on her tiny nose? And would that little baby love me? Unreservedly? And give me hugs and kisses and say “I love you, mom” and build a home with me? I will never know.

I hugged Lydia for a long time, and she didn’t let go either. The distance between us is a simple, normal thing. But I miss her. She gave me the honor of holding Lenichka, and I blinked back tears. How could God be so kind? So wonderful? What a perfect, beautiful little ugly baby. For all babies are ugly to me, and yet so wonderful as well.

I want to be a friend like Lydia. I want to be a mom like her as well. The hardest times to find peace in my soul with the present circumstance is to wish for more, and as I drove back to work at my busy, formal office at Midland Mortgage, I let the tears fall softly and reminded myself of Paul’s letter.

I have learned both to be abased and to abound… in whatsoever state I am to be content.

Angel Hair

Angel Hair, 11.17.13

Far away from the world of greif is a breif repreive where I sometimes enjoy a few blissful moments of existence. One such moment was Sunday afternoon, the day of our one year anniversary, thanks to Bailey’s insistent scheming.

She offered to call the whole event off, once she heard about my car tragedy. But I was too stubborn to let Satan throw off a chance to be a blessing to my Washington girls, and I was worried what I would do if left alone to wander through the city like a lost puppy. But while I waited for her to finish her bus route, I decided to drive to Shake & Steak for a milkshake. The stress does weird things to me, and I was craving a shake like a pregnant lady.

So I drove to Steak and Shake and spent money I didn’t have on a shake and, since I was looking at a board all about food, a bowl of chili I wasn’t wanting in the first place. But then I called my dad and spent forever listening to his instructions on how to call the police, and how to file insurance claims. Honestly, it was all a bit overwhelming. What happened to the nostaligic day reminiscing my courtship with Levi? Reality was crowding in a bit too much. What a bummer.

So I decided since the weather was so, so, deliciously balmy, I would camp out on the hood of my car on campus and bask in some sunlight while waiting for Bailey. It seemed like an okay plan. Campus was as safe a place as any in the city to get some Vitamin K on my own. So I headed that was with a scrumptuous peppermint chocolate chip shake in my cup holder.

At the turn for campus, the car facing the opposite way caught my attention. Black, four door, nodescripit. A guy would know what it was, I was clueless. And thanks to my ridiculously lousy vision, I have no idea who the driver was or the passengers in the back. But the passenger in the shot gun seat caught my attention.

Funny, that looks like Levi.

I turned and drove slowly onto campus, waving at the guard and relieved when he didn’t stop me to ask for ID. Ever since my heartland tag was turned in, I’ve felt weird pulling onto campus, just waiting for the day the security guard decided to step up a little. So far, so lucky.

The black car tailed along pretty closely as I drove contentedly towards the new dorms. The weather was so lovely, I wanted to soak it all in. And, I was expecting a call from the police to take my report. So everything felt a little off.

I pulled far into the parking lot, away from the well-travered invisible pathway leading from the dorms to the caffeteria. I didn’t want passerbyers to hear my conversation with the police. At least, not the part about my Levi box. That was just too humilitating. As I prepared to get out, the black car was hovering near the crosswalk for the new dorms.

Odd.

There weren’t any girls in the car.

And then as I glanced up at it, curious, it dawned on me why I felt like they were watching me. Because… they were. Well, Levi was. Staring at me openly for the first time in months and months, not ducking away or hiding like he might have in Santanna. Maybe he felt brave because of his friends. Or maybe it was the shock of seeing me on campus, where I’m sure he usually feels pretty safe and Noelle-free. He has no idea I’m here every Wednesday afternoon.

Levi.

My Levi, bright and beautiful in white.

So close, and actually looking at me. Looking. At me. As if he’d never set eyes on me before, or as if I was the ugliest person he’d ever seen. Part of it was exhilerating, part of it was deteriorating.

Why should my self esteem pivot so carefully on his opinion of me? Because he is the sun to my galactic orbit, that’s why. But part of my mind rebelled against it. He couldn’t make me feel inferior, or at least make me show it on the outside. In fact, while he was staring at me, he might as well see something.

In my mind… well, it really was going to be perfect. Gorgeous outfit, gorgeous hair, just short the Hollywood glam glasses thanks to the robber. A graceful, catlike exit from the car and the perfect toss of my hair. As I turned my back on him. Ha.

But if my day couldn’t get any worse, it did. I had changed into a shapeless jean skirt and oversized red Tee-shirt from the blood drive. And when I stepped from the car, the bottom of my cup of milkshake broke and the whole thing splattered down the front of my shirt to land in a gruesome blob at my feet.

It all happened slow motion.

I’m sure from his perspective, I couldn’t have looked more pitiful. Boring clothing, clumsy balance, messy food. Probably got a good laugh at my horrified expression and red face.

But before there was any hope of saving the situation, the black car sped off.

I took a deep breath, too shocked to cry.

The phone rang, and it was the police. I hopped up on the hood of my car and squeezed the bridge of my nose and tried to keep my cool. If I just didn’t think about what had just happened, maybe I would be okay.

Levi, I wanted today to be at least as painless as possible. I didn’t expect the present to reach out and compete with the past for pain.

I know God allowed it. All of it. For some bizarre reason. I just don’t understand why.

When Bailey finally came to rescue me, we dragged Pearl down to Lake Overholser and had a few fleeting hours in the sunshine. We ran along the dam looking for turtles, and drove down to the fishing dock to watch the huge, interesting pelicans on the water. Then we spread my sleeping back under the tree in the field where we held my graduation party, and laid down to watch how the field shimmered with the strands of a million miniscule strands of web from a million little field spiders. It was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.

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.

The Night Before

The Night Before, 11.16.13

Dear Levi,

It’s been awhile.

A while since I’ve been able to think, to breath, to function. You took me down hard, baby. The way you looked at me at church? I thought we had set up safe zones. Your side, my side. Your friends, my friends. I knew I wasn’t welcome to cross into your zone, and I tried to respect that and stay as far away as possible. But you had always been gracious enough to honor mine as well. At least, I thought so. It never occurred to me that you might change it up.

Not like it wasn’t bliss, seeing you that close again. A torturous bliss, like a delicious, devouring flame kissing a rose and instantly melting the delicate petals with its scorching breath. To see you that close, to see the color of your eyes, to see the exact what your hair stood up, to see the shape of your shoulders again.

It just shocked me, is all. I’m not good with surprises. Given a little time, a little forewarning, and I can handle pretty much the worse kind of pain. Like when you took Anna to the banquet. It was just going on Mandii’s group that floored me. And knowing you’re with her at church, I can pace myself, I can brace my heart, I can cope. But seeing you on my side?

Why?

I guess it’s the unknown that knocks me down. I couldn’t predict it, and I had absolutely no warning. That one minute I would be walking on measured steps of fire, and the next I’d literally be thrust into the throat of the furnace. What made you do it? I wish I knew. I wish I had any clue about you anymore, but I don’t. I’m floating in a free fall now, nothing to grasp at.

I’m sorry. I reacted badly.

The way you looked at me. Coming around the corner, and then seeing you there, so close. I felt like a baby deer suddenly staring up at a farmer. I had no time to make sure my clothes were neatly aligned, no time to arrange a smooth, safe expression on my face. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to see me off guard. The pain, the longing, the shock.

If it weren’t for seeing you so close… like maybe, if the balcony had been crowded and I’d seen you two coming my way looking for a seat? But… it was the shock of running into you and then… the look.

That look. How shall I ever forget it? From my curls to my boots. It’s like you summed up the best I had to offer and… coolly disregarded it. You turned away with the look that summed me up, once again, as less than adequate. Less than desireable. Dismissed. Rejected. Voided.

I felt like my soul had just died.

I hope you didn’t think I was running away. Kate Walley had texted me before the service and invited me to sit with her. I was just coming to tell Bailey we should all move. But I couldn’t think anymore. I tried not to wonder if you were watching me as I walked unsteadily to my pew, because I knew you wouldn’t be. You would be looking at Anna.

And as much as I wanted to know I was in your line of sight during church… I couldn’t do this. Not so unprepared. So I took my out, I took Kate’s invitation as an escape from God. And I went downstairs. I didn’t look at you as I passed by. And I knew that you wouldn’t be looking at me. I tried to keep my chin up, a smile on my face. But I could feel my lips trembling and my lungs were ready to burst.

I made it to choir and paced back and forth, gripping my rib cage. I made it through the special, and tried to be beautiful for you. In the end, my soul just cried out to God.

God, help!

I walked down from choir… and out the door. I found a pillar along the back of the church and crumpled there, sobbing hysterically. Not out of anger but out of… greif. Heart wrenching grief, and shock, and heartbreak. I cried, and cried, and cried.

No one came. No one saw. No one will ever know. Just me, and God… and maybe someday, when so much time has passed that it will no longer even matter… maybe somday, you. But too late, then.

I cried until my heart was quiet. And I know God was sheilding me with his wings. I cried and begged him for his glass. For the flute on my lantern, my tortured, quivering little flame. And I know he heard me. He soothed my soul with the calm aloe of the Holy Spirit and enwrapped me in the safe haven of his wings. When my eyes were dry, and my nose even wetter than ever, I walked weakly back inside and took my place by Kate.

The sermon was good, but… I was flattened. Like a roadkill, completely demolished by a semi truck in transit. After church, I drove to South Grand Boulevard. The prayer… it was so unintelligable. All I could feel was my worthlessness. To Andrea, to Brad, to the Naval Academy.. to Levi.

When I drove home, my mind was numb, dull, sick. It took days. Days of not seeing. Not feeling. Not breathing. Days to find my feet, to find my strength. I took the time to just breathe. Just feel God’s arms supporting me for a while. I had run my hardest, but there is a time to stop running and just rest in God’s haven. All week, life passed in a black and white blur. Without sound, without meaning, without reality. Like a broken record player, my mind skipped round and round that look you gave me. That dismissal, the rejection, the summation of my worthlessness to you. I’d been trying so hard to live up to you, in any little way. Whether by beauty, or faithfulness, or service. In that moment when you looked at me, Levi, I felt everything crumble.

It was one of the hardest moments of the autumn.

Made worse, but knowing that our anniversary was coming up. Saturday night came, and I spent hours in prayer. Reading my Bible.. resting up… seeking God. How do you face such a day? Amazingly enough…

…all I felt was gratitude.

This humbling, tear-forming graditude. Maybe it was the look you gave me, exentuating my worthelsssness. That made the glowing time of your devotion that much more… humbling? It’s awe-inspiring to me. To think, that you once found in me some measure of merit. That you once valued me as something to be cherished, to be strived for and fought for and worked for… like a beautiful, wistful dream.

And I looked back on that day a year ago and all I can feel is gratefulness. Heartbreaking gratitude and thankfulness. In the same way that you once loved me, is how God loves me know. And I am so glad that He loves me. I couldn’t lose you both.

I prayed, that God would know what tomorrow would hold. I thanked him for giving me a chance, and I prayed he would forgive me for messing it all up. I hope that someday, I can say the same thing to you.

Thank you, Levi…. For the chance. For trusting me with your heart. With your dreams, with your precious, unbelievably precious soul. I will never deserve it. And I am so, so sorry; from the bottom of my soul, eternally sorry… for how I failed you.

If you find an occasion to ever think on that day, I hope that you remember the love. That you remember the good. Because there were some unfortunate circumstances around that day.. but I can’t remember them. They are gone. They never mattered, really. All that mattered, all that lives through in my heart, is the good… your love.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

God, help me face tomorrow with grace that pleases you. If it is your will to entwine our lives, give me the kind of love that holds on and never lets go. If you want his path to be forever apart, then give me the kind of love that can let go.

Your star,

Rigel