Chapter 6 Ford
Tracks Back to God
I lied when I told her I was going to shower.
Really, I had that urge to pray again, and I didn’t know how to say it.
I didn’t want to say it, because I felt like that would have opened up a can of worms. This woman seemed to have a question for every question and the answer from me was, I don’t know.
I didn’t know how to pray anymore. I didn’t know how to talk to God, or if He was even listening to me after all the wrongs I’d done.
Tonight, at the table when Presley was praying over the food, I was almost moved to tears.
I couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth so easily about God not leaving or forsaking her though, she didn’t deserve His grace.
How did she know that I needed to hear those things?
Thoughts raced through my head as my heart longed for answers.
So, I went upstairs. And I got on my knees, which felt like a pretty good place to start.
And I prayed. At least, I think I did. It was more of a “hello” to God and a long pause to see if He would answer.
But, in a way, I think He already had. Perhaps, He was sending me signs through this woman.
Maybe He was telling me to work on my patience, because if I was not, how could He extend patience to me?
But, I was noticing that this woman’s questions, her humming, and the fact that she was now blasting some of my favorite songs through my house—none of that irritated me.
In fact, I was enjoying the company. I’d been lonely.
And that feeling had been exacerbated since I was so far from God.
But, according to Presley, I was not far at all.
As I sat on my knees in a dark room, with my eyes closed shut, I didn’t let my mind wander. I wanted to focus as hard as I could on listening, which was something I had never been good at.
It may have been the downfall to my last relationship, my lack of listening.
I certainly wasn’t good at picking up cues either.
Poppy talked a lot and after a while, I just couldn’t keep up with it all.
My own thoughts became muddled with hers, because she spoke every one of them, but would quiz me later on what she said.
At first, I took it as a gentle nudge that I should listen and cherish her words.
Her voice was like an angel singing, and I was the blessed one for being the recipient of such poetry that she spoke.
Later on, the words became harder to interpret.
She would say things like “so-and-so’s boyfriend took her to Paris” or “Tanya’s husband listens to her.
” But all the flights in the world wouldn’t have fixed things at that point, and I was absolutely clueless about that because it was then and there that I booked us a trip, where I was planning on asking her if she wanted to elope.
I even ordered a custom wedding ring set that couldn’t be returned, which was delivered shortly after she left me.
No, I’d never been good at listening. But God was, and I knew He was just waiting for me to speak.
To repent. To turn from those ways that I’d already written off so long ago.
TO tell Him about my plan for dating—that I would not pursue a relationship again that He had not ordained.
I wanted to say these things. I had felt these words crawling around in my head and heart for the last several months. However, the words didn’t come to me.
After a long while, I got up and decided to shower since I was already up here. While I was in the shower, with the hot water beating down on my face and cold skin, the tune of the music blaring in the background, I called out to God.
“Lord, please forgive me! Come back to me, God! Show me the ways that a godly man should live and straighten my paths that I may follow You!” And I wept for the first time since my mother died all those years ago.
*****
As I ambled down the stairs of my chalet that evening, I was in my head talking to God with every step. I felt relief; a weight I had been carrying for so long was lifted from my shoulders. Guilt was gone. Shame was gone. Joy was returning.
The song that was playing on the record player was a catchy tune, and I automatically started humming to the music as I walked over to my magnificent picture window. I felt myself bursting with thankfulness for everything I had; God’s grace abounded in my life, despite my not deserving it.
Turning, I saw Presley at the table putting together a jigsaw puzzle in her leggings and ski shirt.
I looked at her from where I stood, before she acknowledged me, as she was lost in her puzzle.
She was a beautiful woman, probably about my age.
I didn’t know much about her, but I thought back to my promise I made about women.
I found myself saying another prayer in my mind to tell God about that promise.
I would be as respectful of God’s boundaries as I was with Presley.
Despite this forced proximity, I would honor the Lord with my actions and words.
As if on cue, Presley spoke. As she held her hand out to me with the invitation to dance, I was stunned. What kind of gentleman turns down a lady’s offer to dance with her? After contemplating this for a moment and hearing the tune, which was possibly my favorite Elvis song of all time, I accepted.
Presley walked over to me, and I met her in the middle of the living room.
She took my left hand in her right, and I carefully placed my other hand on her upper back.
There was more than enough room in between us and after swaying for a moment, she looked up at me and smiled.
I didn’t realize it until now just how much shorter than me Presley was.
I was around six foot one, and Presley must have been ten inches shorter than me.
I never stood close enough to her until just now to notice.
Feeling my body relax and with the realization that I didn’t want to do anything that might dishonor God, I released the breath I was holding in.
This was just dancing, until it wasn’t, and I would make sure that it didn’t go beyond this.
Make sure it doesn’t, Lord. I let go of my hand on her back and held her out with one hand, and she did a spin.
It was then that I remembered that this cowboy loved to dance.
Two twirls and a dip later, I felt the plot thicken between us.
As the song ended, she thanked me for the dance, and I found myself filled with gratitude that she asked me.
It was enjoyable and with my boundaries in place, nothing else happened.
She was full of laughter and went back to the dining room table.
I followed and picked up the box of the puzzle to see what she was creating—a snowy, ski slope landscape with little glitter accents.
“It glows in the dark, too,” she said with a coy smile. Her eyes looking up at me from the table made a twinge in my chest. Presley was radiant—that was obvious to anyone who glanced her way—but I was just now noticing to the degree that she was.
“Very cool. Mind if I join? I don’t think I’ve done a puzzle since I was a kid. My grandmother used to have them going on a card table permanently set up in her living room. Right next to that bowl of strawberry candy.” As I reminisced aloud, Presley chimed in.
“I love that candy. I buy it sometimes,” she laughed.
“You can buy it? I’ve never seen it in stores,” I said, confused.
“Well, it’s not delivered by the stork the day someone becomes a grandmother. Of course you can buy it, silly!” she teased and tossed a puzzle piece at my head. I was so caught off guard at her playfulness, I didn’t even know what to say. So, I flicked one back at her, and it poked her in the eye.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Presley. I didn’t mean to—” I stammered, and she started laughing.
“Good shot, Ford. I’ll remember that next time I shouldn’t go easy on you. Careful though, I can be ruthless with a piece of sticky bubblegum in a slingshot,” she giggled, taking a sip of her tea as she started to slowly put a few pieces together.
“So,” I started, not knowing how to finish the sentence. “Tell me about. . . something. Tell me about you.” It was as good a start as any. She looked surprised at my conversation, and I was certain it was because I’d been such a silent dud around her these last few days.
“I’m a book publisher in Denver, and I’m here because I just about snapped at work.
Well, I think I had a meltdown right before work, but it was a prolonged reaction.
I’ve been very overworked and under vacationed in the last. .
. five years.” Presley didn’t waste any time jumping right into her story that she shared so easily.
The woman was transparent, and I wasn’t sure how to handle that.
I’d never been around a woman who told me what she was thinking instead of saying something different and making me guess.
As she went on, I found myself captivated with what she had to say, and I also started to realize I’d been trying to maintain control of every situation, when in fact, my life had been in God’s hands all along.
Wasn’t that the very thing I just prayed for?
“I crammed to the limits in college so I could graduate early, and I went right to work. No gap year, no time off. A nervous breakdown was inevitable at some point, and I happened to have it this week.” She gave a smile with her thumbs in the air, and I laughed.
“So, that’s how I ended up here for a week.
In Sage Mountain, during a power outage, and a major incoming storm.
I can’t wait to see what lesson this turns out to be, because God really does have a sense of humor. ”