19
Puck dropped Bing off at his home around midnight.
“You didn’t say anything to anyone, did you?” Bing asked.
Yawning, his friend waved a hand in dismissal. “I understand that things went catawampus with this trip home. I’ve said nothing in case it deteriorated further. I’m glad you’re back and safe. Gigget looked lovely tonight at church. I’m sure she’s missing you.”
Bing grinned. “I can’t wait to see her. Did you get the outfit for me?”
“It’s in your apartment ready and waiting for you to look even more like a gnome than usual.” Puck grinned. “Go, get some sleep. Welcome home again, and Merry Christmas.”
They shook hands.
Bing grabbed his duffle bag. As he walked into his apartment and dropped his duffle, he and immediately experienced the emptiness. No lights. No one to welcome him. No Christmas here. He spied the outfit Puck had procured for him, and grinned. He went to the closet and dragged out the already-wrapped gifts he’d managed to snag before his trip. He piled them on the sofa. He really didn’t need anything more for Christmas than to see the joy on Djoni and Amoretta’s faces…and Gigget’s, too.
He picked up the duffle and hauled it to his bedroom and tossed it in the corner. He then prepared for bed.
He awoke too early the next morning. As a kid he’d woken his parents at the crack of dawn so they could open Christmas presents. Now he understood why they’d wanted to sleep in.
Bing rubbed his beard in front of the bathroom mirror. It had grown a lot in the seven weeks he was away. He trimmed it before taking a shower.
The fridge was empty except for the butter and eggs he’d left behind. Bing eyeballed the eggs. Seven weeks was a long time, but they were farm-fresh and no one had opened the fridge, so maybe they were still good. Only one way to find out. Filling a bowl with water, he dropped a couple eggs into the liquid. The eggs sank to the bottom with the pointed end up but still underwater. Semi-fresh, still edible.
He pulled some cheese out of the freezer and made some scrambled eggs with cheese. At least it was something. As he sat to eat, the emptiness of his home once again closed in on him. Please let Gigget want to see me. I couldn’t bear her rejection after all our letters and being gone. Lord, You created a desire. I believe You called me to this woman, and led me to her Yourself.
Anticipation warred with fear. After finishing his inadequate breakfast, he washed the few dishes and set them aside to dry. He pulled his Bible out of his duffle bag and sat in his favorite recliner to read and pray.
He flipped to his favorite Christmas passage in Isaiah 9:6-7: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of His government and peace there will be no end…”
Bingle stopped there. After all he’d witnessed overseas—the war, the atrocities, rescuing people who would now need to deal with the trauma of what happened to them for the rest of their lives—more than anything Bing desired peace. Two days ago, he’d received a communication from the police investigator. They were close to arresting his ex-wife for stalking and mail harassment. Would she receive justice for her crimes? He’d already wrestled with the fact that he needed to forgive her. Again. That didn’t mean he would protect her from the consequences of her sins. Lord, please be the righteous judge that You are. And forgive me for my own sins, for my hardness of heart toward her. You have been the One to work and heal me. Granted, a good Christian therapist had helped him to look at the situation logically; and praying friends had challenged him to lean on God to free him from his bitterness.
He chuckled to himself. Bitter no more, at least not as much as he was right when the divorce was happening and soon after. As Wonderful Counselor, God had done a great work in Bing’s heart. He could only attribute all that was good and hopeful in his life to the Hand of God, the power of the Holy Spirit at work in and through him.
He also recognized that if today went as he hoped, it was because God led him. From Gigget’s letters, he understood her to be a woman who sought the Lord with intentionality.
The baby born in a manger was the Savior and the Righteous Judge of all of His creation. Christmas wasn’t only the feel-good warm-fuzzies, the lights, the decorations, the cookies, hot chocolate, and sentimental movies. It was the start of Jesus balancing the Lord’s rightful justice by offering merciful salvation to those who trust in Him.
Bing wiped away a tear of gratitude that God had rescued Him, and that in spite of his failures and sins, God wiped them out and accepted him as a precious child and heir. Jesus was the model to follow for life here and for eternity. Bing hoped and prayed that he would be able to live a life worthy of that sacrifice.
Lord, You led me today, brought me home, for the purpose You’ve laid on my heart. You’ve given me wise counsel from Your Word and Your Holy Spirit, and I pray You will pave the way for my future—and Gigget’s. Give us the clarity to trust in You for every step of that path.
Bing spent time in silence, listening for God to speak. He’d struggled to do that with the business and hardship while deployed.
Silence.
Go. Do what I called you to do. I love you and delight in you, My son.
Bing let the tears fall. God had spoken and reaffirmed the plan that had taken root in his heart. As long as God loved him, whatever happened next, he could deal with.
Thank You, Lord. Happy birthday, Jesus. Bing rose and put on the outfit Puck had left. Over the river and through the woods to Gigget’s home he’d go. Ho. Ho. Ho.
The streets were empty of traffic. Families were gathered in their homes to celebrate the holiday. The snow that had fallen last night left a sparkly glow over everything. Missing the Christmas Eve church service felt as though Bing had skipped the most important part of the day, but God understood. If he’d been able to attend, he would have.
As he headed out of town to Gigget’s home, he took it slow to enjoy the beauty, and maybe prolong the agony of wondering how he would be received. He turned into her driveway and pulled up to the house. The camera would pick him up and alert her to his presence. Would the kids be sleeping? No way. Not on Christmas morning.
He hauled the gifts to the porch taking three trips to carefully stack them. Then he rang the doorbell.
And waited.
Silence.
Her vehicle was in the driveway. She must be home.
Footsteps preceded a peek beyond the curtain that covered the window on the door. Gigget.
He only caught a glimpse.
The locks turned, and the door opened. Gigget stood there shaking her head. “Oh, Bing. You made it.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “Come in.”
The children appeared, still in their pajamas. “Santa Gnome!” They cheered.
“I’ll need your help to get these to your tree.” He reached down and put some packages in each of the children’s arms and Gigget’s, and then carried the last bunch himself. They were all placed under the tree, and he stepped back.
The children wrapped their arms around his legs. “You came! You came! We prayed you would make it!”
“I got in around midnight. It was a rough journey home, but I really wanted to be here to see you all.” He gazed at Gigget. Her hair was unkempt, she wore pajamas, a robe, and slippers on her feet. She’d never appeared more beautiful to him.
She met his gaze with a smile. “Oh, I need to make some coffee. Take off your coat, Bing, and make yourself at home. I have some French toast in the oven for breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.” She scurried away to the kitchen.
Bing grinned. He’d been welcomed. The children dragged him to living room.
Christmas music began playing in the background. This was home. But would it be his home?
~*~
The man Gigget had been dreaming about and praying for was sitting in her living room. She set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and scurried to her bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She combed her hair, applied makeup, put on jeans and a Christmas sweater, along with festive, fuzzy socks. She applied a little lip gloss and a splash of perfume. Bing had come. Lord, Thank You for bringing him home safely.