19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
ELLE
B ack in my room, I let out a groan as I read Gray’s text. He was so sweet, but all I could think about was what he’d said to me earlier today. I can’t tolerate lies.
When he’d said it, I thought, fair enough. Only later, once I’d played everything back in my mind, did it beat my conscience awake. I’d essentially been lying to Gray this whole time. We’d had conversations about our car trouble several times, but I’d never owned up. Even though I’d sorted out the payment with his car, I should have told him I was the culprit.
But so much time had passed it would be so strange for me to bring it up now. Who was I kidding? Strange wasn’t holding me back; it was the conflict. If history was a good teacher, then I’d learned better than anyone that conflict should be avoided at all costs.
God, this is too hard. Why is everything so hard? I need a break from being responsible. You should know that.
The burden of this tangled situation had hung over my head like a black cloud all afternoon. Poor Jenny. We’d planned this girly afternoon a few days ago, and I was so looking forward to it. Jenny treated us to pedicures and cappuccinos. I’d tried to pretend to enjoy my time with her, but I was too preoccupied with my internal battle.
After pacing my room for about an hour, claustrophobia began setting in. I checked my watch. Brenda usually had reception duty until late. Perhaps I could sneak out and chat to her. I needed her comfort and wisdom.
Several minutes later, I was knocking on the door to the reception office.
“Come in,” Brenda called.
I pushed the door open and allowed the smell of strawberries to settle my nerves.
Brenda was seated behind her desk with a small mirror set up in front of her. “Hi sweetie, what’s up? You know we don’t cater for the leaders on the weekend? I hope you aren’t looking for dinner? ”
“No, I already ate. I was hoping I could have a cup of tea and chat with you about something. If you aren’t busy?”
“Oh, I was just practicing my contouring skills,” Brenda said, tapping her nose. “Come on back to the kitchen, and I’ll make us a cup of tea.”
I could see the evidence of Brenda’s “contouring” all over her face. If I wasn’t so upset, I may have giggled at the sight. I followed her back, glad to see she was limping less. Brenda put the kettle on and turned a motherly look my way (well, as motherly as an overly contoured face could look).
“What’s bugging you, hon?”
Faced with the direct question, vulnerability flooded my system. I hesitated, uncertain if I could truly share my struggles with Brenda. Opting for a less direct approach, I said, “Well, I have a friend who’s going through a difficult time, and I’m not sure what to advise her. I was hoping you could help?”
Brenda smiled warmly. “That’s what I’m here for. What’s bothering her?”
I gave myself a hug and began, “You see, as a child, she was forced to be the responsible family member. Now she’s an adult and trying to escape responsibility for a bit, but it seems to always catch up with her. ”
Brenda’s expression softened. “That sounds really tough. Let’s pretend the friend is you for a moment.”
Heat crept up my neck as I realized that my thinly veiled attempt to discuss my own issues hadn’t fooled Brenda one bit. “Okay,” I conceded.
“What do you mean by responsibility?” she asked, and I could feel the weight of her gaze, inviting yet cautious.
Tears welled up in my eyes. A lump formed in my throat as I stammered out my confession. “Well, life, paying bills, confessing mistakes... they all feel too hard. I want to run away from all of it.” I looked at my hands, they were trembling.
Brenda’s response was immediate and nurturing. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, her touch grounding me. “I think that might be your problem,” she began, her voice soothing. “God created us to need food, water, air, relationships, shelter, and work. These things all require responsibility.”
I looked up at her, finding a well of empathy in her eyes.
She continued, “But I think you have an incorrect understanding of responsibility. It’s not a bad thing. Sure, it’s not meant to be a burden for young children to carry. I’m so sorry you had to carry that burden so young. But responsibility is a healthy part of adult life. Just like Pastor Jim preached on Sunday. Hard work is a gift from God. We function best when we have a purpose and are involved in rewarding work. I believe you’ll never be able to escape something that God wove into your very being.”
I smiled regretfully. “It’s not the answer I was looking for. Back home, I’d just live for the weekend and the odd vacation. I figured if I turned my life into a permanent vacation, it would solve all my problems. It kinda sucks that it didn’t work.”
Brenda nodded. “I’m sure, honey. We live in a world that often whispers misleading promises. We’re made to believe that less work, more vacation, and more stuff will lead to happiness. But it’s just not true. True happiness can only be found in your relationship with God. However, if you’ve been dealing with adult responsibility from a young age, you’re probably tired from dragging that baggage around with you everywhere. But did you know we don’t have to carry our past around with us forever? God came to save us from our sins, and to restore and free us from pasts exactly like yours.”
I shifted on my feet. “I’m a Christian, so why is my past still weighing me down? Not to mention all the therapy I’ve done,” I said, my brows knitting together in confusion.
“Becoming a Christian means your relationship with God is restored, but it doesn’t instantly heal all inner wounds,” she explained, her voice steady and reassuring. “That’s a privilege you get to experience as you walk with God. You need to invite Him into those spaces and ask for His healing touch.”
I nodded and took a deep breath.
“You can ask God to help you let go of the past. I think it’s hard for you to accept today’s responsibility when you view it, considering all the responsibility you’ve had to deal with in the past. Each time you’re faced with a fresh responsibility, remind yourself, that was then—this is now. Take each additional responsibility as its own challenge, not as the last straw on a pile of a million others.”
Brenda’s words set my mind abuzz with different thoughts and questions I’d never considered. “Thanks, Brenda. You’ve given me a lot to think about. How’d you get to be so wise?”
She sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve had my own experience with stuff like this, and what’s worse is I only confronted it when I had children. I realized I was bringing all my resentment, exhaustion, and frustration from my past and using it as the lens through which I saw my kids. It wasn’t fair to them. I had to make a change.”
“How did you change?”
The edges of Brenda’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Through prayer. And the best tool my counselor gave me was the phrase ‘that was then—this is now’. Anytime I got overwhelmed by feelings from my past, I would remind myself of that. This responsibility I chose. I chose to have kids and I could choose to parent them. A few seconds to shift your perspective can make a world of difference.”
I smiled through my tears. “Brenda, you’re one strong woman.”
“So are you, sweetheart. Now I’d better get home to Dave, but you call me if you need anything else, okay?”
I hugged Brenda and walked back to my room. At least my panic was gone. She’d given me too much to think about for me to have enough time to panic. For someone who didn’t know their way around a makeup brush, she sure knew her way around life.
I thought of what she’d said about God creating us to work and have responsibility. I wondered if that was why I had felt so far from God on this trip. It was essentially my escape plan. Maybe God didn’t want me to escape? Maybe he wanted me to live healed and whole like Brenda? That sure seemed more appealing than all this running.
That evening, as I sat on my creaky dorm room bed, I opened my Bible to one of my favorite passages. The words spoke to me in a way they hadn’t in a long time, and I felt God’s presence filling my heart. As I prayed, I poured out my emotions and fears to Him, asking for guidance in dealing with the heavy burden I’d carried for so long. I recounted the abuse I’d suffered at the hands of my father, how his harsh words and expectations had left me with a crippling fear of conflict. As I spoke to God about the heavy burden of responsibility I’d carried as a child, I realized I’d been carrying it with me all these years, letting it shape my relationships and decisions.
As I continued to pray, I experienced a newfound understanding of God’s love and forgiveness wash over me. He’d been with me through all my trials, even when I felt most alone. This revelation brought me to tears, and a weight lifted from my shoulders.
I knew then that I couldn’t keep the truth about the crash from Gray any longer. My fear of conflict, of disappointing him, was just another piece of baggage I needed to let go of. I needed to trust in God’s love and support and believe that He would give me the strength to face whatever consequences came from telling the truth. Even if Gray wanted nothing to do with me after. I just had to find the right moment to tell him.