Who am I, Lord?
By Marcia K. Leaser
October 27, 2009
Sarah wished she was anywhere other than sitting in Sunday School, with thses people she did'nt know and didn't want to know.
She wanted to dive under the table and get lost among the dust, hoping when she came up she’d be anyone other than Sarah Anne Brandon. How could she have thought moving would make a difference? At least back home everyone knew.
She lifted her eyes and looked around the old-fashioned room with makeshift curtains, and faded green walls. So different from the huge church she had grown up in in Fresno. But her family had stopped going to church right after Dad found his good job, and mom got in that dumb club. Once that happened, they no longer had time for God...or her.
Her mind returned to the present and the tiny room. Mrs. Morton was still discussing abstinence as the safest sexual behavior to keep the problem of S.T.D’s and abortion out of the picture.
"I hate church. she snarled. "Is that all they ever talk about?"
"God wants to help us be good," the young dark-haired teacher continued.
"How can He help us if we've already blown it?" Sarah wanted to scream.
“God wants to guide us, but we need to ask Him to be a part of our lives."
The leaders voice crowded into Sarah’s thoughts "He knows the temptations we face every day, and only through Him can we overcome."
"Overcome!" Sarah spit out the words loudly. Then peeked over her lesson book to see if anyone had heard her. It looked as if no one had. She sighed heavily and thought. ‘What if you aren't this perfect little china doll everyone thinks you ought to be at age sixteen?’ Tears burned her eyes, but she couldn't let them show. She couldn't tell anyone her awful secret. If she did, it would mean moving again.
"Sarah, what do you think?"
Her bitter thoughts were crumbled, as she was jolted back to the present with all eyes on her.
"I, uh, think you’re right," she mumbled.
Relief filled her as the tiny bell jingled, signaling the Sunday school hour was over and it was time for Church.
She hurried out of the room. I'm not even sure I want to live, she thought, if I have to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. Stumbling into the bathroom, she found security in the tiny stall. Tears ran freely down her cheeks.
How did she get herself into this mess?
She knew. She knew all to well.
Sarah had known Jeff her whole life. His parents were like her second set of parents, and they always seemed to be there when mom and dad weren't. Then she and Jeff began to spend more and more time together. It all started out innocently enough.
She actually thought she loved him, and believed he loved her too...until she found out she was pregnant. When she told him, she could hardly believe his reaction. He made it sound as if he had absolutely no part in it at all. His parents, too, acted like it was all her fault. She felt so betrayed and foolish that she went along with their demand to have an abortion.
Under the guise of taking Sarah shopping, they whisked her away before she even had the opportunity to talk it over with mom and dad. They would only be mad anyway,
She had reasoned, because it might ruin their image at the Country Club. They may never have found out if Sarah hadn’t almost died.
Mom sat and cried with her head in her hands, without even acknowledging Sarah was in the room. Dad was mad enough to explode. Sarah felt like a rag doll in a room full of bullies.
"Why are you acting this way?" she said in a helpless whisper. "It didn't happen to you... it happened to me."
Then they pretended to understand. If they hadn’t been so busy and had included Sarah in their lives... But it wasn't too long after, she was told they were moving to Ohio.
How convenient!
Huddling in the tiny stall with the past crowding in around her, she wanted to run, so far and so fast no one would ever find her.
"How could I have been so stupid," she berated herself. Then realizing she would soon be missed in church, she threw cold water on her face, in an attempt to hide her red puffy eyes. Realizing it was useless; she shrugged and hurried out into the hallway.
"Oh, Sarah, just who I was looking for," a small voice caught up with her. It was Mrs. Morton.
"I was wondering if you would read the scripture next Sunday for us, I... What's wrong? You look as if you've been crying. Is it something that was said this morning?"
Sarah, looked into the soft blue eyes of the woman standing before her. She looked not much older than herself, and actually made Sarah feels as if she cared.
"Oh, it's nothing." Sarah lied. I have new contacts and they are bothering me a lot."
"Well, I'm glad that's all it is. So what do you say?"
"About what?" Sarah looked absently toward the sanctuary.
"About reading the Bible for us next Sunday?"
"Oh, yeah, sure, why not."
"Good, see you then." Mrs. Morton said with a grin.
Sarah scooted away. Glad to be free. She found her family and slid in beside them. The sermon was about how God loves and forgives, but Sarah had heard the same thing a thousand times before, and wasn't sure she believed it anyway. How could God forgive her?
With church over, she sat staring out the window on the short drive home. The countryside was so different from the busy streets and avenues of Fresno. She turned her eyes away from outside and caught her image in the rear view mirror. That view would always be the same.
She had adjusted quickly to the country scene outside her bedroom window, and Sniffy (her black lab) loved the huge woods behind the house. She found it hard to recall the color of the sunsets over the water, and almost felt as if that part of her life was just a dream. What she wouldn't give to have it be only a dream. Realizing her mother was watching her, in the mirror, she gave a tired smile, then quickly looked away.
Sarah spent the rest of the day wandering around the house, trying to keep busy enough so Mom didn't ask what was wrong.
Her busy thoughts were interrupted when she looked out the dining-room window, and noticed a blue car pulling into the driveway. Looking closer, she recognized Mrs. Morton. Her heart jumped into her throat as sheer panic seized her. She knows! Oh that's dumb, she quickly reasoned, how could she know? She raced up the stairs to the safety of her bedroom.
"Maybe if I sit real quiet," she said aloud, "mom and dad will think I'm walking in the woods." Hearing Sniffy barking at the unwelcome guest, she snorted. "Forget that. I never walk without him."
"Sarah, Mrs. Morton is here," her dad called from the bottom of the stars.
"Sarah, Mrs. Morton's here," she mimicked. "Big deal. What if I don't want to see her? what if I decide to not go down? I have some rights to, ya' know!" She sat statue-like on the bed.
Her mind whirled. Why did she feel so trapped, so worthless...like she was suddenly living in a make-believe world. A world where she second guessed her every emotion, and each person she met was a threat?
Realizing there was no way out, she walked slowly down the stars and strolled into the living room.
"Hello," she managed to muster in the happy voice she was getting used to using.
"Hi," The young teacher responded. "I don't think you’ve officially met Kala, my daughter," she boasted with a broad smile.
The child, of about two, peeked out from behind her mother's skirt and grinned shyly.
"Can I get you something to drink...Coffee perhaps?" Mrs. Brandon offered as she motioned the visitors to the couch.
"No thank you," she chuckled. "I haven't learned to like it yet. I always said I would wait until I was twenty before I tried coffee or liver. I think you have to be an adult before you can stand either one." She shuddered.
The next few minutes were spent in small talk, as mom tried to make Kala feel a little more comfortable, by offering her some toys to play with. The little girl clung to her mother's arm with wide eyes. Finally, Mrs. Brandon gave up and retreated into the kitchen.
"Don't go, " Sarah wanted to scream.
"I couldn't keep you out of my thoughts during church,” The teacher began, in a concerned tone. "I know something’s wrong."
I can't believe this, Sarah thought bitterly. Why can't people keep their noses out of other people's lives? She sat, staring at the floor, saying nothing.
"I know this is none of my business, Sarah," Mrs. Morton continued, "But I know pain when I see it, and I want to help you, if you’ll let me.
For a brief instant Sarah wanted to blurt out the whole mess, just to get it over with. After all, everyone would find out sooner or later anyway. But it was as if something had happened to her voice. She simply shook her head as she toyed with her ring.
"Okay, I won't push," Mrs. Morton, whispered in an understanding tone. "I wonder if you're going through a lot of the same self-hate and doubt that I experienced when I first became divorced. My own thoughts convinced me I was unworthy of God's love. Shame is such an uncomfortable burden to bear, Sarah, and so unnecessary. God already knows everything there is to know about you.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“And loves you in spite of it."
She cocked her head to one side, leaned forward and tried to look Sarah in the eye. Sarah refused to look up.
"Don't sell God's Grace short, Sarah," she continued. "Please pray for the wisdom to see that His forgiveness far outweighs anything you have done in the past.
ANYTHING." She sat silent for a few seconds, awaiting some kind of response. None came.
"Well, I guess we'll be leaving. I just wanted you to know that." Then she smiled a warm smile. "No. God wanted you to know that." She rose, and touched Sarah's shoulder. "I'll see you Sunday."
She walked toward the door, then turned and said, "Oh, by the way, the scripture for next Sunday is Romans 8: 38-39 See ya then. You haven’t forgotten you’re reading, right?”
Sarah nodded.
Mrs. Brandon heard the door shut and came into the living room. "Did Rachel leave already? Seems she just arrived. Did you have a nice talk, dear?"
"Yeah, we did." Sarah revealed softly, as she walked slowly up the stairs to her room.
What Mrs. Morton had said made sense. It was easy for Sarah to rationalize this in her head, but to be able to believe it in her heart was a different thing.
Upon reaching her room, Sarah picked her Bible up off the dresser where it had been gathering dust since the day she unpacked it a month earlier. Leafing through, she found the verses she was to read for next Sunday. They read:
For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come. Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
God did know! For one brief instant Sarah felt shame. Then looked again at the book in her trembling hands. "But this says that nothing can keep His love away.
NOTHING! Then maybe even?" She glanced at the frightened face in the mirror. Then slowly, she relaxed. First her shoulders: then the muscles in her face. God loved her and it didn't matter what had happened in the past.
Hugging her Bible to her, she fell onto the bed and sobbed. But these tears were different from the many she’d cried in the past year. These were healing tears that could wash away the shame.
Finally she rose from the bed. I know today is only the beginning, she thought.
With a confidence she hadn't felt in a long time she smiled at the tear-stained face in the mirror. It won’t be easy, but I know I can do it. Because I have two friends who understand. One named Rachel and one named Jesus.
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