— Chapter Two —
The weeks following that war in the kitchen seemed to pass in slow motion. I struggled to do the simplest chores. On one particular day going to the grocery store seemed an insurmountable task, especially with no appetite. The aftermath left me feeling as though my insides had been mangled, making it difficult to eat.
As I pushed the grocery cart past specialty items that had once been on my list, a queasy feeling started in the pit of my stomach. I had no reason to buy them anymore. Happy faces advertising decadent ice creams or pizzas we once enjoyed together seemed a sickening joke; oatmeal was my staple. This queasiness then turned to fear of being recognized as I made my way through the store. Carefully, I glanced around each corner before starting down the aisles.
“Oh Lord, please don’t let me run into anyone I know. I’ve seen the way they look at me. They’ll just automatically don an expression of pity. I can’t bear to hear another well-intentioned ‘Are you doing okay?’ or ‘I’m praying for you.”’
Relieved that I had made it through the check-out without encountering a familiar face, I pushed the cart next to the curb and loaded the bags of fruit, cereal, and frozen vegetables. On the way home, I stopped by the local gas station to fill up. While pumping gas, the attendant’s friend pulled behind me. After they chatted for a couple of minutes, I overheard the attendant say to his friend, “Do you have any left?”
“A few,” he replied.
“Well, give this lady one.”
So his friend walked over to his car then handed me a beautiful long-stemmed rose. My eyes brimmed with tears. I thanked him as I drove away. Lovelier than what I could have imagined coming out of the back seat of an old beat up car, I admired the beauty of this perfectly shaped magenta rose. Its fragrance was an added surprise. On my way home, an unshakable thought occurred. This isn’t a coincidence. This is from God!
“Lord, is this really from You? Is this how You’re going to let me know You are real?”
In the few moments it took to reach my driveway, God had gently affirmed in my heart. “Yes, Donna, this rose is from Me. It’s a small expression of My love for you. I want you to know that I’m going to take care of you. Let Me be your Husband now.”8
Later in the day I had second thoughts. “Was that rose truly from God or did I just want it to be? Did God really speak to my heart about being my Husband, or did I make it up? Would God do more things like this, or was I so desperate that I’d believe anything?”
Getting ready for bed, I propped pillows behind my back and picked up my journal from the floor. Gazing at that precious rose I’d specifically placed on my nightstand, I decided to believe that God had given it to me. The ink flowed as I recounted how God had presented it. My last entry that night …, “Thank You for this special touch in my life today, Lord. Thank you for the rose,” This thought brought a welcomed and peaceful sleep that night.
“How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would be more than the sand. When I awake, I am still with You” (Psalm 139:17, 18 NKJV).
Copyright 2001, 2004 Donna Christensen
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Published Online by: The Biblical Reader
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