Chapter 18
Sean woke up on Christmas Eve in his own bed in a quiet apartment.
Mom and Dad had kept Jace during Sean’s hasty trip to Arizona.
They’d have him all day, giving Sean some time to finish unpacking before he joined his family for the traditional night-before-Christmas festivities.
Finger foods and gifts were on the agenda for later.
It was one of his favorite celebrations of the year.
He glanced at the clock before turning his back on the shining numerals. It didn’t bother him that it was ten a.m. He’d arrived home at one in the morning. He’d been too wound up to sleep, the events of the day replaying over and over in his heart and mind.
Sean closed his eyes and reached out with everything inside himself.
“Good morning, Father.” His words were a whisper, barely heard above the slithering voice inside his head that told him he was wasting his time.
Satan wasn’t letting any grass grow under his feet when it came to trying to convince Sean that he’d taken one step too far away from the grace that, once again, hummed inside his heart with a tangible presence.
Good morning, son. What are we doing today?
The immediate response threatened to bring tears to Sean’s eyes. He felt like a combination of Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch on Christmas morning. His heart set free and his attitude adjusted. He couldn’t wait to share his transformation with his family.
He’d known before getting on the plane in Oklahoma City that Matthew wouldn’t let him out of his office without a sermon. He hadn’t known that his sermon would hit the mark so quickly. Sean didn’t possess the words to tell Matthew or God how grateful he was for harsh truths and second chances.
Sean took a couple of deep breaths before responding to his Father’s question. “I was sort of hoping You’d tell me.”
Why don’t we work through that together?
That sounded like a plan he could put into action for the rest of his life.
Ten minutes later, he sat at his kitchen table and, in an imitation of his mother, enjoyed his morning coffee along with his first morning of devotion in a year.
He opened his Bible randomly, not disappointed to find the book of Proverbs at his fingertips.
Chapter nine was at the top of the first page, and he read while he sipped from this mug.
When he hit verse nine, he couldn’t help but stop and smile.
“A man’s heart deviseth his ways, but the Lord directeth his steps.”
And wasn’t that the truth. He’d come from Ohio without a real plan and more bitterness than one man should carry. He’d met Monica, and she’d wiggled her way into his life. Her need had driven Sean back to Matthew’s door. That trip had changed the trajectory of his future.
Sean thought back over all those steps and decided that he couldn’t be happier with the outcome.
He had a new job to start in a couple of weeks, but that was his plan. He was excited to see where the Lord wanted him to go from here.
Once his Bible time was finished, he reached for his phone. Monica had called him a couple of times yesterday, and he’d allowed each call to roll to voicemail, not wanting to tell her about his trip, and not wanting to lie to her.
He pressed her contact.
“Hello?” She sounded chipper this morning.
“Hey, sorry I missed you yesterday.”
“It was nothing important. I just needed a good long run and thought you guys might like to join me.”
“I would have loved that, but I was tied up with something, and by the time I got finished, it was too late to call you back. Are you ready for the big night?”
“I don’t know, Sean.” Doubt seeped into her voice. “Wouldn’t everyone have a better time if it were just family?”
They’d had this conversation numerous times over the last few days.
She was moping because of her failure to raise the funds for her event.
He could put her out of her misery right now, but he had a plan to reveal what had happened when it came time to open presents tonight.
“We talked about this. We all want you there. If I let you bow out, Mom will skin me alive.”
“I don’t think the ramifications would be quite that drastic.”
“You’ve not seen your pastor’s wife in full mother mode. She raised two of the orneriest boys in the state of Oklahoma. It wouldn’t be the first time she handed me my hide.”
“Oh, all right.”
The words came on a sigh of resignation, but he’d take what he could get. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
“I can drive myself.”
No way was he giving her the means to make a brief appearance and leave. He’d never force her to stay where she wasn’t happy, but she needed to stay long enough so that he could spring his life-changing surprise. “A gentleman always picks up his date.”
Monica released a small giggle. “Whatever. What’s your second favorite dessert?”
“Uh...second favorite?”
“I know your favorite is coconut cream pie. I figure your mom will make that at some point over the weekend, and I’m not in the mood to compete. I need something to occupy my day, so...?”
Sean was sad that the merriment in her voice hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds.
He was sorely tempted to share his surprise ahead of time, but he wanted to tell the whole family together about the events of the day before.
This wasn’t just a surprise for Monica. The fact that he’d rededicated his life and planned to return to the ministry would be the best Christmas present he could give to his parents.
“Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I do love the pie that Mom makes for me, but I have to admit, cookies are my kryptonite.”
“Then you shall have cookies. I’ll see you at six.”
Sean swiped the call closed. He didn’t need anything to keep him occupied. He had more than enough to do. While he was unpacking the last half dozen boxes, he needed to think of a good way to wrap an announcement.
***
MONICA PUT THE PHONE aside, leaned back in the sofa, and crossed her arms over the long T-shirt she’d worn to bed last night.
She needed to get up and get dressed, though she didn’t see the point. She would change before Sean picked her up, but she had hours.
She needed to pick up the clutter in her apartment.
It amazed her that someone living alone could generate such a mess.
The top of her desk bore a pile of to-do lists and mail she’d been putting off.
There were three pairs of shoes by the front door.
A coat and a sweater hung over the back of the chair.
The floor hadn’t been vacuumed in several days.
She needed to find a recipe for the cookies she’d promised to bake for Sean.
Instead of moving, she toppled over onto the couch cushions.
She’d managed to get through Monday and Tuesday at work with a smile pasted on her face, holding the demise of her January event close to her chest. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew she’d have to come clean to Nicholas and Kate as soon as the Christmas holiday was over.
Would they fire her? They’d be justified if they did.
She buried her face in a throw pillow and struggled to hold back tears. How could her good intentions have gone so terribly wrong? Her dad would be so ashamed of her.
But it wasn’t her dad’s voice echoing in her ears, it was Bobbie’s, reminding her that trying to do it all was going to catch up with her eventually. Her friend’s words had been prophetic. If only she’d listened.
Monica pushed herself up from the sofa and stood. None of this was doing any good. Despite Bobbie’s advice, she was a doer, and it was time to get doing. She started with her desk.
It took her five minutes to sort through the mail, tossing the bulk of it into the trash.
The to-do lists were a little harder. She piled the ones related to the event out of the way.
She’d deal with those later. There was a list for a Girl Scout bake sale she was helping with, and another for a library event she’d volunteered to chair.
Neither of those would get any attention this week.
The toy drive she’d helped organize was finished, so she threw the list in the trash.
Then she stared at that crumpled list, her fingers itching to reclaim it. There might be some piece of information she could use next year.
No.
She forced her hands behind her back. Maybe she was a doer, but nobody could do everything.
If she didn’t learn from her mistakes and from the wise words of friends, what good could she really do?
In the time she’d spent in Garfield, she’d taken every opportunity the church had offered.
In the community, she volunteered for every function advertised.
If she was honest, she took on more at work than she should.
They were all good things, but as her recent fiasco had shown, attempting to do it all was overwhelming and, ultimately, counterproductive.
But this was who she was. She was a doer. She was a helper. If she wasn’t, then who was she?
Maybe there was a compromise between Bobbie’s advice and her father’s expectations. She could choose only the volunteer positions she really loved. But even the thought of that sent her anxiety spiking.
But why? Shouldn’t clearing out her schedule make her feel more relaxed? What was going on?
The questions dogged her as she snagged the things from the back of the chair and hung them in the coat closet before grabbing up the shoes and carrying them to the bedroom.
The oversized T-shirt was replaced with jeans and a button-down.
On the way to the kitchen she grabbed up the overflowing laundry basket and dropped it by the washer.
She loaded the dishwasher, took out the trash, lists and all, started a load of laundry, and ran the vacuum.
In just over an hour her apartment was tidy and her mood was beginning to lift.