The Breaking Point (35 page)

Grace wagged a finger at her. “Ah, ah. No
doing
allowed. Just
being.”

Renee couldn’t sit still for that. She straightened, letting the afghan fall away and immediately regretted it when the cool air hit her.

“It’s easier than you think.” Grace’s compassionate tone took the edge off Renee’s sudden frustration. “Just settle back on the couch, like you were.”

When she didn’t move, Grace tapped one slightly bent finger on her armchair. Though Grace’s wrinkled hands showed her age, her face was smooth and wrinkle free. Grace said that was because of her weight.

“There’s no room for wrinkles when you’re fat.”

Restraining a smile at her friend’s comment, Renee did as she was bid. She settled back into the cushions, pulling the afghan up to her chin.

“Good, now close your eyes.”

Renee obeyed. She lay there, eyes pressed shut, waiting for the next step. But only silence followed. She stood it as long as she could, then opened her eyes—and found herself face-to-face with Grace’s amusement.

“I didn’t think you’d last too long.”

Heat surged into Renee’s cheeks, and she laughed, too. How well Grace knew her.

When the older woman moved to sit on the edge of the couch, Renee reached for her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Grace squeezed her hand. “No, dear, I understand. Women—especially women who grow up in the church—are taught that we’re supposed to
do.
Stay busy, take on tasks, find a need and fill it.” She shook her head, the reddish highlights in her hair reflecting the warmth of the fire. “But what we need to pay attention to is what God calls us to.”

Renee studied Grace’s face, the easy way she smiled, the kindness in her green eyes, the way the firelight seemed to create a kind of corona behind her.
She looks like an angel.

Well, why shouldn’t she? Hadn’t she been an angel to Renee, a messenger who brought God’s truth and helped Renee see herself and God more clearly? God had known exactly the kind of friend she needed.

“Renee, when was the last time you were silent—really silent—before God?”

The gentle question caught her by surprise. When was the last time?

For that matter, when was the
first
time?

She couldn’t remember ever just sitting in silence with God. Praying, yes … sending word after word scurrying to the heavens in appeal or supplication. Singing, too. She’d sung to the Father plenty of times, letting her joy or sorrow fly on the wings of the music that so often brought peace to her soul.

But silence? She shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.” Grace’s comment held no condemnation, only acknowledgment. “Give God your silence, Renee. Remember what He said in Psalms?”

Renee remembered. “Be still.”

Grace nodded. “Why do you think He called us to stillness?”

Emotion welled as Renee realized the answer. For a moment she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. “To … to know He is God. ‘Be still and know that I am God.’”

The smile that lit Grace’s face filled Renee with envy. Was such radiance, such simple beauty ever reflected in her face? She doubted it. How she longed to know the peace that permeated this woman!

What will it take, God? What will it take for me to know You so well?

“Be still … and
know.
Know that
I
am God.”

Grace’s whispered words seemed to fill the room, and
Renee closed her eyes as goose bumps skittered across her arms and shivers scurried up her back. Grace spoke with such reverence, and Renee knew she spoke to the One who listened with His whole heart.

The One who’d been waiting for Renee to listen as well.

She let her lids drift shut … and waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. But she knew for whom, and that was enough.

At first there was only silence, and then she became aware of small, gentle sounds. The faint crackle of the flames. The slight creak of the couch as she or Grace shifted. The ticking of the clock on the wall. The whisper of the wind as it caressed the windowpanes …

And something more.

It was barely discernible at first, but then it seemed to grow. It was a kind of sweet, trilling musical note—like the singing of a lark or a robin. But … Renee frowned. It was nighttime. There weren’t any birds singing at night, especially not in the winter. She tilted her head, honing in on the sound, filled with wonder at the haunting beauty of it. It was melodious, and yet so strange. She’d never heard anything like it.

Lord?

All those times she’d sung to Him, and now—

She caught her breath as the truth rocked her very soul:
He
was singing to her.

Renee soaked in every trill, every nuance, every bit of melodious beauty that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. She held on to Grace, overwhelmed by the awareness of a holy presence. “Oh, Grace …”

Her broken whisper hid nothing, not the wonder, the honor she felt, nor the fear. How could a holy God come to
her?
How could He speak anything to her but condemnation? She was so weak … so terribly weak …

“Renee.”

Grace’s gentle voice pulled her from the barrage of questions, and she opened her eyes with a sob. Grace gripped her
hands, then nodded to the fireplace. “Renee, look.”

She did as Grace bid and her eyes widened. There, in the depths of the fire, in the center of the most intense heat, was a log with pitch bubbling forth. A log that sang.

The music was coming from the log.

For a moment, sharp disappointment pierced Renee, but it was almost immediately replaced by an understanding that she knew came from One far beyond herself. God was bringing her a message, and it wasn’t one of condemnation, but of hope.

Look, daughter, and see. Only in the most intense crucible can the log finally let loose the song that has been trapped deep within. It gave itself to the flame, sacrificing all, and in so doing, what was held captive is set free.

This was the song God sang to her soul. This was what He’d been trying to tell her all along. No, she wasn’t worthy. No one was but Christ. And yet, God loved her—and He’d shown her the way to find the peace, and the love, she longed for.

She’d told herself she could run away. Gabe broke her trust, so she was free. But that wasn’t true. She wasn’t free until God released her from the vows she’d taken. She had entered into a covenant, and not just with Gabe. She had made promises to both Gabe and God that would stand until death parted them. For better, for worse.

Well, they’d clearly hit worse. But wasn’t that exactly what those vows were for? They were a promise for the struggle, a promise to hold to her vows—to the covenant—when the feeling wasn’t there.

Fall into the ground and die, My daughter.

Renee lifted her face to heaven.

Die to self, that I may live in you.

She wanted to, but how? She didn’t really know. Show me …

Give up your life for Me, and you will find true life.

Give up.
Grace had told her that so many times, and Renee had said she would. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t surrendered anything—not her rights, not her dreams, not her stubborn determination to always be right.

Take it, Father. Take everything, and don’t let me hold back this time. Break me, if that’s what it takes to make me Yours.

A whisper of joy passed through her, growing until it was more powerful, more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Renee felt as though she were lifted from where she sat, carried on a wave of holy pleasure, and then held—cradled in omnipotent arms—as a host of heavenly voices rang out.

A touch on her shoulder brought Renee’s eyes open. “Are you okay, Renee?”

“Yes.” She confirmed the word with a smile. “I’m great.” She glanced around the room. She knew what she had to do. “I need to make a phone call.”

The light of hope shone in Grace’s eyes. “To your husband?”

“To my husband.”

Gabe answered the phone on the first ring. “Hi, Gabe.”

Relief at hearing Renee’s voice made him weak. “Are you okay?”

He knew she’d been at the Frazier’s home. Oren had called and talked with him the night Renee disappeared, saying Gabe needed to give her a few days to think. To pray.

They’d been the hardest days of his life.

“I’m fine.” She really sounded as though she was, and terror gnawed at him.
Is this it, Lord? Is she leaving me?

“Gabe, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I walked out like that.”

He shook his head, then realized she couldn’t see him. “No, it’s my fault …”

“It’s both our faults, Gabe. It has been for a long time.” She hesitated.
Here it comes. I knew this would happen one day.

“Gabe, I want us to work this out.”

His mouth dropped open, and he gripped the phone so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it snap. “You do?”

“Yes. But we can’t do it the way we’ve been doing it.”

He knew that. He’d known that when he opened his eyes after praying and found her gone. “Tell me what you want, Renee.”

“We have to see a counselor. And we can’t be together. Not for a while.”

Not together?
He tried to keep the fear, the anger from his voice. He didn’t succeed. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means we need to live apart, but Gabe, I want you to hear me. It’s just for a while. Just until we start to get ourselves straight. That’s what we have to do before we can get us straight.”

He fell silent, struggling to find words. He expected her to jump in, to make her case, but she didn’t. She just waited. Finally he found his voice again. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Renee.” He knew she could hear the emptiness in his voice, but he couldn’t prevent that. Couldn’t prevent the feeling that they were just delaying the inevitable.

Her response was gentle, patient. “It’s what we both need, Gabe. If it’s okay with you, Grace and Oren and I will come by tomorrow morning, and we can talk through our options.”

He agreed, and they hung up. He sat there, his hand on the phone, and let the sorrow come.
We’re not going to make it, are we, Lord?

Not by might, nor by strength, but by My power.

Gabe heard the words, longed to believe them … but couldn’t help wondering if even God had enough strength for what was ahead.

D
ECEMBER
20, 2003

3
P.M.

IT WAS THERE, JUST AHEAD.

“Gabe, look!”

Bo jumped at the excitement in Renee’s voice, and Gabe limped to join her. No one had been more surprised than he when the pain in his ankle lessened enough that he could walk unaided. He was far slower than he liked, but at least he wasn’t weighing Renee down.

He followed her pointing finger and felt like bouncing right along with Bo.

The river. They’d found the river.

Relief made him almost light-headed. They weren’t out of the woods—figuratively or literally—but it was a step in the right direction. “Is that a beautiful sight or what?”

Her eyes shone. “Gorgeous. Just gorgeous.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

They were next to the rushing water in minutes. Gabe looked from one direction to the other.
Now what, Lord? Which way do we go?

South.

He wasn’t sure if the direction came from God or from logic, but either way it made sense. The closest thing to civilization was Union Creek, and it was south. There were cabins between where they’d gone off the road and Union Creek, so south it was.

“I think we should head north.”

Gabe looked at Renee. “What?”

Her nod was decisive. “I’m sure there are some cabins just north of where we went off the road.”