D
espite all the vivid reds and yellows in the tapestry of Tracy Black’s life, one section was shadowy gray and darkest black. The part that represented her broken friendship with Anna Ritter.
Even though the split between her and Anna had happened five years ago, thoughts of her old friend still haunted Tracy, and that summer Saturday afternoon was no different. As Tracy worked in her garden, she wondered how Anna was doing, how her faith and family were. But mostly she wondered why Anna never called, how the two of them had let a friendship as golden as theirs fade away and die.
A sigh worked its way up from Tracy’s soul. Thoughts about Anna never went anywhere. Anna had obviously moved on; it was time Tracy did the same. She picked another handful of beans and brushed a bit of fuzz from them. Other than the situation with Anna, life couldn’t have been better. She and her husband, Paul, had three children and a beautiful home on three acres outside Akron, Ohio.
Tracy pulled another handful of green beans and dropped them in her bag. The kids were at a neighbor’s pool, and Paul was working on the kitchen sink, so all around her the quiet was laced with only an occasional rustling of leaves or a buzzing bee.
I love being out here, God. Everything I see is something you made.
A sense of peace resonated within her and she smiled.
More handfuls of beans, and then a few of the bigger squashes. Tracy’s bag was half full of vegetables when suddenly a sharp pain sliced through her stomach and she dropped to her knees. In all her life, Tracy had never felt anything so severe. She was only thirty-eight, a regular jogger who ate well and took care of herself. But the pain was so severe she could barely draw a breath.
“God . . . help me!” She could hear Paul’s steps in the distance, hear the instant fear in his voice as he called her name and saw her huddled on the ground.
And in that moment she had a knowing, a sense that life as it had been was about to change forever.
Paul helped Tracy to her feet and to the hospital, where doctors gave her a shot for the pain. Their initial tests showed that she had a blocked intestine, and within the hour she was in emergency surgery to correct the problem.
When she woke up, her entire family was in the room. Her youngest son was ten-year-old Skyler. He approached her bed and took her hand. “I thought you were going to die, Mom.” Skyler rubbed a fist across his cheek. The boy was an athlete, one who never cried about anything. But now his fears were obvious.
“Sweetheart.” The thickness in Tracy’s throat almost stopped her from saying anything else. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll be home in a few days, okay?”
Skyler nodded, his eyes still wide and damp. “Don’t die, Mom. I need you.”
Paul stepped up and put his arm around both Skyler and Tracy. Across the bed, the other two children stood quiet and somber. “Mom’s right, she’ll be home in a few days, guys. Everything’s okay.”
“Promise?” Skyler looked doubtful.
Tracy smiled despite the tears in her eyes. “Promise.”
But the next morning the news was worse than anything they’d ever dreamed. The blockage had been caused by a tumor in her abdomen, a growth the size of a grapefruit that had cut off the intestine and caused the emergency.
“We’re worried.” Tracy’s doctor pursed his lips and clutched his clipboard to his chest. “The preliminary tests don’t look good.”
Tracy stared at the man from her bed and tightened her grip on Paul’s hand. What was he saying? Preliminary tests for what?
Paul was able to voice his questions first. “Are you thinking this . . . this tumor could be cancerous?”
Tracy’s doctor nodded. “It looks that way. We should know more by tomorrow.” He clenched his jaw. “I wanted you to be prepared. If we find cancer, Tracy will need extensive surgery and chemotherapy.”
The entire time the doctor was speaking, only one thought screamed at Tracy—her promise to Skyler. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be facing cancer and major surgery and death when she’d only the day before promised her youngest child that everything was okay, that she wouldn’t die.
After the doctor left, Tracy and Paul held hands and prayed, asking God for a way out of the situation, begging him for a miracle. When they finished praying, they agreed not to tell the children until the next day when they had a definitive diagnosis.
“Take a nap,” Paul told her as he left for home to be with the kids. “We have to believe God will work something out.”
Tracy nodded and willed her heartrate to slow down. Fear wasn’t from God, and Paul was right. She was exhausted. A nap would give her a way to pass the time until she knew for sure what her future might hold.
She fell asleep praying, and almost immediately she began to dream.
In the dream, she was crying and calling out to God, begging him to show her a way out of the tragedy that seemed about to befall her and her family. Then, in a clear and distinct voice, she heard God tell her what to do.
Have Anna come and pray.
Throughout the remainder of the dream, the thought stayed with her in a way Tracy couldn’t shake.
Have Anna come and pray.
When Tracy woke up, the notion was as strong as it had been while she was sleeping. But now that she was clearheaded and awake, Tracy couldn’t make even a little sense out of the thought. Have Anna come and pray? An ache settled in Tracy’s heart; the idea was impossible. She and Anna hadn’t spoken in five years.
But even as she argued the thought in her mind, she began to go back. Back in time to that place decades ago when she and Anna Ritter first became friends.
They’d been in history class together early in their freshman year when a boy in the farthest row tried to get Tracy’s attention.
“Not now,” Tracy hissed at him.
But the noise was enough to gain the teacher’s attention. When he spun around and stared at Tracy, Anna shot her hand into the air. “I’m sorry, sir. I dropped my paper. Could you repeat that last sentence?”
The distraction worked, and Tracy avoided getting in trouble for talking. After class Tracy thanked Anna and the two giggled and chatted for several minutes. The next day they shared a smile and a certain knowing. A friendship had been forged.
From that day on Tracy and Anna became the very best of friends, attending high school together and sharing details about every date and dance and struggle until they graduated. The two were separated for a few years when Anna went away to college, but afterwards, they each married and settled a few miles away from each other outside Akron. They shared in each other’s weddings and the birth of each other’s babies. Before their children were in school, they took five years’ worth of walks at the local high school, picnics at the parks and trips to the library. Again time moved on, and Tracy and Anna shared the trials and triumphs of raising school-aged children.
It was a friendship both women thought would last a liftetime.
But then one late spring afternoon Anna came to Tracy for a small loan. Their family van had given out and they needed a new vehicle, but with Anna’s husband between jobs, borrowing money from a bank was not possible.
Tracy, meanwhile, was married to a man who brought in an annual income of nearly seven figures. They were generous with the money God had blessed them with, willing to help anyone in trouble. Because of her friend’s obvious need, Tracy checked with her husband and easily agreed to help.
“I hate borrowing from you,” Anna told Tracy. “But we’ll have income in a month. After that we can make payments.”
Tracy smiled and took her friend’s hand. “I’m not worried about it. Pay it back when you can.”
The loan was for five thousand dollars, and with it Anna and her husband, Ken, bought a used van that allowed Ken to take a job in downtown Akron, one that paid even better than the one he had lost.
Finally, five months after loaning the money to Anna and Ken, Tracy and Paul made plans to have their friends over for dinner. It was the moment they had chosen to discuss with Anna and Ken a payment plan for the funds they’d borrowed.
It was October, and a chill hung in the air as Anna and Ken arrived that evening, smiling and quick with their happy greetings. “I wouldn’t miss Tracy’s lasagna for anything.” Ken patted Paul on the back and grinned.
The small talk continued while Tracy marveled at the situation.
They have no idea we’re going to ask about the money,
she thought.
When dinner was over and the dishes cleared, Tracy made coffee and the four sat in the living room. This was the moment, and Tracy prayed silently that the issue could be brought up and dealt with quickly, without any tension or hard feelings.
“Listen,” Paul started. He sat back in his chair, his features calm and relaxed. “You remember that loan for five thousand dollars.” He hesitated and looked at Tracy. “Tracy and I were wondering if this would be a good time to set up a payment plan.”
Anna and Ken exchanged a strange look, and Anna cleared her throat. She kept her eyes away from Tracy, focusing instead on only Paul. “What loan?”
What happened next was something Tracy thought about often. The conversation turned stilted and tense, and Anna refused to look at Tracy even once. Ken denied knowing anything about the loan. Finally he snapped at Paul that yes, he would pay the money back, but their friendship would never be the same again.
After the couple was gone, Tracy stood frozen in place, staring at the front door. “What just happened?”
Paul came up beside her. “I have no idea.”
They rehashed the conversation, the details of the loan, the attitude Ken seemed to have, the strange, furtive glances from Anna, and they decided on one thing: There had to be a mistake somewhere. Before turning in that night, again the two prayed that God would help Anna and Ken see the issue more clearly and that the matter could be resolved without damaging their friendship.
But when two weeks passed without word from either of their friends, Paul called Ken and talked over the situation on the phone. Ken reluctantly agreed to pay the money back, with two-hundred-dollar payments starting the following Friday.
Tracy wasn’t surprised when that Friday came and went without either payment or word from Anna or Ken. Another two weeks went by and finally Tracy and Paul agreed to forget about the loan and call it a gift. Their own family didn’t need the money, and if that would prevent a rift between the two couples, so be it.
Tracy called Anna to tell her the news.
“Look.” Tears gathered in Tracy’s eyes and her voice trembled. “We’ve been friends forever, Anna. We can’t let money ruin things.” She paused. “Paul and I have decided to make the loan a gift.”
“Meaning what?” Anna’s voice was cold, distant.
“Meaning you owe us nothing.”
For a while neither of them said anything. Then Anna voiced a curt thank you and the conversation ended.
Weeks became months after that. Occasionally Tracy would call Anna, asking her out to lunch or over for coffee. But always Anna had an excuse. One afternoon nearly a year after Tracy and Paul had given them the money, Anna returned Tracy’s call and stated the situation in terms that cut Tracy to the heart.
“It’s over, Tracy. Ken feels awkward when the two of us talk.” She was quiet and it was impossible to tell if she was crying or not. “It’s time to go our own ways.”
Tracy was in shock for hours after the phone call, stunned and angry and filled with sorrow all at the same time. Memories filled her mind of times when she and Anna had been closer than sisters. Now all of it was gone for reasons that didn’t even make sense.
That had been five years ago.
The images faded and Tracy looked around her hospital room. She hadn’t heard from Anna once in the past several years, and though the ache of losing her friend had never quite gone away, she could do nothing about the loss.
So why now, in her most dire hour, did she feel so prompted to call Anna?
She closed her eyes and prayed.
Lord, surely it’s not you telling me to call her, right? Anna wants nothing to do with me.
Yes, daughter. Make the call. Anna needs to pray for you.
The thought shouted into the hallways of her heart as clearly as if someone had spoken the words out loud in her room. A chill passed down Tracy’s arms and legs. Anna needs to pray for me? The thought seemed outrageous, but Tracy had made a habit of heeding such thoughts. Especially if they were persistent even after she prayed.
Without giving the matter any more thought, she picked up the phone and dialed a number she still carried in her memory. Seconds later Anna’s voice sounded on the other end.
“Hello?”
The sound of her friend’s voice brought back another thousand memories.
“Anna? This is . . .” Tracy tried to finish her sentence, but she couldn’t. Tears choked off her words and she pressed the receiver to her shoulder while she fought for control. When she was able to talk, she lifted the phone and said, “This is Tracy. I’m in the hospital and I’m sick, and . . . and I think God wants me to ask you to come pray for me.”
At first Anna said nothing. Then in a voice strangled with its own emotions, Anna spoke. “I’ll be right there.”
An hour later, Anna walked through the door of the hospital room and years of silence and differences faded away in an instant. Anna came to Tracy, sat on the edge of her bed, and the two hugged as they hadn’t in a long time.
“I’m sorry, Tracy, I didn’t know what else to do.” Anna was crying, letting her tears soak into Tracy’s hospital gown. “Ken and I . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Ken left me a year ago.”
The shock was one more in a series that afternoon. Anna and Ken had been churchgoers, people whose faith should have kept them together. But the announcement gave Tracy insight into the death of their friendship. They talked more about what had happened during that awful time five years ago, and after an hour, the air between them was clear once more.
“You wanted me to pray?” Anna had moved onto the chair beside Tracy’s bed. “What’s wrong, Tracy? How sick are you?”