War Room (8 page)

Elizabeth followed up the stairs, drawn to the innocence in their voices.

“So they, like, start talking about doing the worst routine ever,” Jennifer continued, “like in a funny way, and she starts laughing so hard her face turns bright red, then she just starts squeaking ’cause she can’t breathe . . . It was hilarious!”

Both girls giggled. As Elizabeth reached Danielle’s door, she stopped. Her daughter was lying on her stomach and cradling a stuffed panda. Jennifer was sitting up on the bed beside her.

“I wish I lived at your house,” Danielle said. “Whenever my parents are together, they just fight.”

The words stung. No, they were a stab in the heart. The pain was immediate, and Elizabeth wanted to lash out at Danielle for saying such a thing. For exposing their family like that. And then she realized her daughter was just telling the truth. She was sharing feelings with a friend that she couldn’t share with her own parents.

Elizabeth wanted to retreat down the stairs, but Danielle saw her and Jennifer looked as well. There was an awkward moment of silence, and then, like any good mother would do, Elizabeth filled it by changing the subject.

“Jennifer, how’s your family?”

The girl’s face flushed. “Fine.”

What was she supposed to say?
“We’re all happy and
laughing and have such good relationships compared with you, Mrs. Jordan”?

“Would you like to stay for dinner? You’re welcome to eat with us.”

“Okay,” Jennifer said tentatively. The two of them looked like they’d been caught jumping on satin sheets with muddy shoes.

“Okay, I’m going to go change,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll call you girls down in a few minutes.”

She made sandwiches and dished some potato salad onto their plates. The girls arrived quieter than usual. There was a lot of tinkling silverware and sighing around the table. The girls didn’t speak and Elizabeth didn’t see the need to jabber. You could spread the awkwardness on a piece of bread and still have some left over for breakfast the next morning.

Elizabeth couldn’t get Clara’s voice out of her head. And the revelation about how Danielle felt about their family only pressed harder at her heart.

After Jennifer’s mother picked her up and Danielle got ready for bed, Elizabeth walked into her daughter’s room and sat on the bed, slowly speaking the question she was afraid to ask.

“Danielle, you know we love you, right?”

The response was less than reassuring, just a silent nod.

“That wasn’t very convincing.”

“Well, I think you love me a little bit.”

“A little bit?” Elizabeth said. “Danielle, you are my
daughter. You’re the most important thing in the whole world to me. You’ve got to believe that.”

Danielle stared back at her and came up with a question of her own. “What’s my team name?”

Clara’s questions had been enough for one day. Now here was another that seized her heart because she wasn’t sure of the answer. “Umm . . . the Firecrackers.”

“That was last year,” Danielle said. Her voice began to choke with emotion as she continued. “What are our colors?”

Elizabeth thought a moment, straining to remember something she didn’t know, hadn’t noticed. She felt like a deer in double Dutch headlights.

“What jump rope trick did I just learn to do? Who’s my new coach?”

Bewilderment turned to embarrassment as Danielle’s eyes filled with tears. She sniffed and her chin puckered. “What award did I win last week on my team?”

Elizabeth looked through blurry eyes now, stunned. “You won an award last week?” She cradled her daughter’s chin in one hand. “Danielle, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Then she reached out with both hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Danielle leaned forward and Elizabeth hugged her and rubbed her back, apologizing over and over. Somehow her emotion helped calm her daughter.

Later, she thought about what had happened at that vulnerable moment for both of them. She had seen her daughter’s tears and hadn’t dismissed them or tried to
explain herself. She had simply entered Danielle’s world and validated her feelings instead of pushing them aside. Wasn’t that what she was looking for with Tony? She wanted him to change, wanted them to move to the same page in life, but the first step was
seeing
. The first step was looking at the situation for what it was, not for what she wanted it to be.

As she finished straightening the house, the phone rang and she looked at the caller ID. It was Tony. She took a deep breath and immediately thought of Clara’s closet. “Oh, Lord, help me not light into him.”

He asked how she was doing and Elizabeth couldn’t hold back the emotion about what she had learned, how she wasn’t as connected with Danielle as she wanted to be.

“You think that just because I don’t know the color of her uniforms I’m a bad father?”

Elizabeth stepped onto the back deck and closed the door. “Tony,
I
didn’t know the color of her uniform. This is not about you.”

“I’m busting my rear out here trying to provide for us, Elizabeth.”

“I know that, and I appreciate you providing
 
—”

“I don’t need you tearing me down every time I check in.”

“I’m not trying to tear you down.”

“Yes, you are. Why are you telling me this about Danielle? It’s because you think I need to step up, right? I need to do things just like you’re doing.”

“No, don’t you see? I’ve missed Danielle too. I haven’t
shown her the love I wanted to.” She told him about the conversation she’d overheard between Danielle and Jennifer. “So if you think I’m trying to make you feel guilty, it shows how far apart we are.”

“Right. What you’re saying is, if I cared more about Danielle, and if I cared more about your sister
 
—”

“This is not about Cynthia
 
—don’t turn it into that. Listen to me. Your daughter feels pushed to the back corner of our lives. She needs our attention. She needs to know she’s loved.”

“It always comes back to me being a bad father, doesn’t it? I don’t need this.”

“I’m not calling you a bad father. This is a wake-up call for both of us.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Tony?”

Elizabeth looked at the phone and saw a blank, flashing screen. He’d hung up on her. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to throw the phone all the way to Charlotte. She wanted the pain to be gone, and as she walked back inside, she slammed the door behind her.

It was hopeless. Her marriage was hopeless. Tony was hopeless. And she had no power to change anything.

Tony hung up the phone and cursed. He didn’t need constant drama. Every conversation dragged him down. Every day was more guilt heaped on him like trash in a Dumpster.
There was only so much a man could take. Only so much guilt could be piled up before something collapsed.

He went to the hotel bar, ordered a drink, and watched a game. He wanted enough alcohol to take the edge off and help him sleep. Just enough to quiet the voices in his head. He wasn’t hooked on anything. He hadn’t let it go that far.

He thought of Danielle. That girl had real talent, real athleticism. If anyone had reason to complain, it was him. Elizabeth should have insisted she stay with basketball. She was comfortable dribbling, and she saw the court, just like he could. The girl could get a scholarship when she graduated, there was no question. Was there a college in the country that gave you a full ride for jumping rope?

He shook his head. Elizabeth didn’t think practically or logically. She wanted Danielle to feel affirmed. She wanted her to be emotionally healthy. Well, when you got in the real world, you got affirmation by doing a good job. The money and bonuses came when you landed the deal, not when you
felt good
. He should have put his foot down. He should have made Danielle stay in basketball.

The more he thought, the more upset he became, and he ordered another drink. He pulled out his phone and hit the Redial button, then thought better of it. He knew what would happen. Elizabeth would yell at him. He would yell at her. And the drama would escalate.

He didn’t want any more drama. He’d worked hard to
not
have drama messing up his life. So he hit the Sleep button on his phone and turned his attention back to the game.

Clara watched Elizabeth leave and prayed
she hadn’t come on too strong. Elizabeth’s face said it all. The mask was still there, tightly in place, but there were cracks and fissures showing. Clara asked that God would simply use their conversation and the tepid coffee to melt the young lady’s heart.

Clara believed with all her heart that God worked all things together for good to those who loved Him and were called according to His purpose. But she did not believe that everything that happened was good. The world was fallen and there was sin in every heart. But God’s grace was bigger.

The other truth she believed, from a life of experiencing it, was that for real change to happen deep in the soul, God tended to make people miserable rather than happy. He brought them to the end of themselves and showed them how powerless they were in order to show them how powerful He was. The children of Israel didn’t push back the Red Sea. They didn’t knock down the walls of Jericho. It was only when they were at the end of their rope and had to depend on someone bigger that they saw God work mightily. It was the same with each follower of Jesus.

She wanted to pray that God would restore Elizabeth’s marriage and turn her husband’s heart around and that everything would be fixed overnight. Immediate healing was easier to pray for than a transplant because a transplant takes time and someone else has to die. But the more Clara spoke with the Lord about the situation, the more she understood Elizabeth’s life was probably going to get worse before it got better. And the issue wasn’t just Elizabeth’s husband. It was Elizabeth herself.

It wasn’t an easy prayer, asking God to break someone’s heart, asking God to bring people you cared about to the end of themselves. But before she prayed, Clara thanked God that He was big enough to do all that and big enough to bring praise to Himself in the process. She was sure He was going to do that somehow, though she wasn’t sure how.

As she prayed, the tears came
 
—tears for a daughter with parents who spent more time fighting than loving. Tears for
Elizabeth, who wanted to love the family God had given her. Tears for her husband, who seemed to have lost his way.

Clara ended her prayer thanking God for His power to change and His power to provide hope. “There is hope for everybody, Lord, no matter how far they’ve strayed. I know it better than anyone.”

Elizabeth stood at Clara’s house and knocked,
checking her face in one of the windowpanes on the door. She heard shuffling in the front room, then the door opened and Clara stood smiling, her eyes showing more than words could tell.

“Well, good morning,” she said.

The woman hugged Elizabeth as she entered, and Elizabeth felt warmth spread through her. Clara poured them both a cup of coffee. How she loved that coffee.

“I’ll take mine a little warmer today,” Elizabeth said.

Clara chuckled. “You know why I did that yesterday, right?”

“I caught the biblical reference. And I looked it up before bed last night. Book of Revelation, right?”

Clara nodded.

“I’ve been to church more often than you think.”

Clara sat and looked into Elizabeth’s eyes. “Do you want to talk about the house first or what’s really on your heart?”

Elizabeth felt a deep ache inside, sitting here with this older woman. “I’m struggling with being a professional, with you as my client. I don’t want to burden you with my personal life, but . . .”

“But your heart is breaking and you don’t know where to turn. Go ahead. Clara can handle a little unprofessional conversation.” The old woman smiled and patted her hand.

“Well, it’s Tony,” Elizabeth said, and she was off on a tirade about how he’d acted and the things he’d said and how he wasn’t the father to Danielle that he should be.

“I can see it in Danielle’s face when he comes home. And he’s on his phone or watching TV. She’s starved for his attention and her heart is just breaking and I was so unaware. Tony, he’s
completely
unaware. That man is running out of time, Miss Clara. He’s off in his own world being top salesman somewhere while his daughter is growing more calloused to him every day. He shows no interest in anybody but himself. And I’ll tell you another thing. I don’t have proof of this, but if he’s not getting it from me, he’s got to be getting it from somebody. He makes all these little flirtatious comments to other young women that just . . .”

Clara held up a hand and Elizabeth stopped midsentence.

“Elizabeth, just so I know. How much of the one hour we got together today are you gonna spend whining about your husband, and how much are we gonna spend on what the Lord can do about it?”

Elizabeth felt her face grow warm. “I’m sorry, Miss Clara. I just get so wound up the more I think about it.”

“Your thoughts about your husband are almost entirely negative, aren’t they?”

Elizabeth digested the question and realized she was right. But there was a reason she was negative. Tony really did act that way toward her and Danielle. “He acts like an enemy to me,” she said.

Clara leaned forward. “See, you’re fighting the wrong enemy. Your husband certainly has issues, but he’s not your enemy.”

Elizabeth searched the woman’s eyes for some clue, some understanding of what she was saying.

“When I fought against my husband,” Clara continued, “I was fighting against my own marriage and my family. I tried for years to fix Leo, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Well, I’ve gotten nowhere with Tony.”

“’Cause it’s not your job! Who said it was your responsibility to fix Tony? It’s your job to love him, to respect him, and to pray for the man. God knows he needs it.” She raised her voice to a falsetto. “And men don’t like it when their woman’s always trying to fix them.”

Elizabeth chewed on that thought. If it wasn’t her job,
who was going to do the fixing? Somebody sure needed to step in. . . .

“Elizabeth, you got to plead with God so that He can do what only He can do, and then you got to get out of the way and
let Him do it
.”

Elizabeth’s mind whirled. It was a helpless feeling not to try to change Tony. She had done it for years and the problems had only gotten worse. Now she could tell she was being drawn to answers born out of a life tested by time and circumstances. She felt the emotion welling and choked out the words “I don’t even know where to start.”

Clara handed a leather-covered journal to her. “You’ll find some of my favorite Scriptures in there. They were my battle plan to pray for my family. You can start with that.”

Elizabeth opened the journal to the beginning and saw pages filled with writing.

“You’re going to see that there are some verses I wrote out and made personal, plugged in names in different spots. I poured out my heart in those pages. You get your own journal and find your own war room.”

Elizabeth held the journal to her chest. “The house . . . I need to get the yard sign up and . . . so many details.”

Clara leaned forward. “This house is going to sell in God’s good timing. He’s preparing the right person to come along. I believe that with all my heart. But this is more important, Elizabeth. Focus on the battle ahead. And I’ll be right there with you.”

When Elizabeth reached home, she went to her room, passed through the sink area, and opened her closet door. The space would certainly be secluded, but it was much too small and claustrophobic. She had so many clothes, so many shoes. She gave up on the idea and sat at her desk to read through some of the verses Clara had written down. She wasn’t sure of the translation the woman used, but the words seemed to jump off the page at her. She quickly opened her own journal and like a scribe began to copy.

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

 
—1 JOHN 1:9

The Lord is near all who call out to Him, all who call out to Him with integrity.

 
—PSALM 145:18

Rejoice always! Pray constantly. Give thanks in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

 
—1 THESSALONIANS 5:16-18

As she read, she could hear Clara’s voice in her head, the way she said “God” so reverently and with a sense of awe. She would have emphasized the words
cleanse
and
always
and
constantly
.

Elizabeth came to Jeremiah 33:3, which nearly took her breath away.

Call to Me and I will answer you and tell you great and incomprehensible things you do not know.

That’s exactly what Elizabeth wanted. She wanted to know more about God, like Clara. She wanted to experience Him and talk with Him and have God speak to her. Her main concern was Tony, of course
 
—that was the number one request, but she sensed there was more going on inside her than just wanting Tony to shape up. God was drawing her; it was clear to her now.

When she came to Matthew 6:6, it all seemed to come together.

But when you pray, go into your private room, shut your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Elizabeth looked at her closet again. There was something about that sacred space Clara had, a place where she was all alone, could shut the door and silence the rest of the world. And the walls. She could put up reminders in there. Of course God could hear her anywhere she prayed, but if she truly committed to a space like that, if she went to the trouble to clear it out and get on her knees, maybe God would see that and reward a willing heart.

She got up from the desk and walked into the closet, pushing the clothes hangers apart. She turned to the opposite wall and taped her list there, then knelt and looked at it. There were shoes in boxes stacked up before her, so she closed her eyes and began.

“Dear Lord, I don’t know how to do this. I mean, I know You want me to pray. You want me to spend time with You. And I’m going to bring my requests to You now.”

Her knees ached already. She sat back and crossed her legs in front of her.

“Lord, You know that Tony is not the man I want him to be. He’s not the man You want him to be. So I’m putting him right at the top here.”

Her legs started aching. Maybe if she found something to sit on. She retrieved a sturdy storage box with a lid and sat on it, closing her eyes and continuing.

“You know, O God, that he’s angry and doesn’t pay much attention to Danielle and me. He’s hurt her little heart so badly.”

She tipped back and almost hit her head against the built-in dresser behind her, so she sat forward and crossed her legs. She looked at the prayer list again. Where was she? Still on Tony.

Maybe if she brought in the white chair with arms, it would be easier. Yes, that would help. Something with a strong back to it. She put the box away and got the chair and set it next to the prayer list and sat.

She wasn’t sure if she needed to start over again or not.
Did God want her to just jump in or did she need to ramp up? Clara had said something about beginning with praise to God rather than just rattling off a list.

“Lord, thanks for this chair. And the house You’ve provided for us. Thank You for my daughter and what You’ve taught me through her.” She paused a moment. “Thank You that You brought Tony and me together, Lord. I don’t think I’ve thought about that for a while. I believe You did bring us together all those years ago.”

Just the thought of thanking God for Tony was foreign to her, but there it was. It slipped out like a compliment she hadn’t intended for someone who didn’t deserve it. Maybe spending time with God like this would really help. She began to have a little hope, but then her backside started to grow numb from the hard seat, so she returned the white chair and found a bean bag in Danielle’s closet that she didn’t use anymore, plopped it on her closet floor, and sank into the beans.

“Lord, thank You for Jesus, for salvation, for the fact that I can be forgiven because of His sacrifice for me. . . .”

She glanced at the shoes in front of her. There was the pair she’d been looking for to go with that black dress. She picked up the shoe and studied it. Shoes held so many stories. She remembered the store where she’d seen this one. She and her friend Missy had been shopping that day and stumbled onto this cute little boutique. These shoes had called to Elizabeth, just whispered her name until she walked down the aisle and found them and tried them on.

She held the shoe close and sniffed. What an awful smell. She really needed to do something about her foot odor. Maybe if she got online and looked that up, she could find some kind of natural remedy like rubbing orange peels on everything. She had heard of one remedy that was also used after a skunk had sprayed a dog, something about tomato sauce and . . .

Elizabeth glanced back at the prayer list. Where had her mind run? Why was it so hard to stick with the task at hand? She should put her feet up there on the list, but healing them seemed almost as far-fetched as healing her relationship with Tony.

She was amazed at how easily distracted she could be when praying. As soon as she began her conversation with God, something else would creep in. She thought of all the things left undone around the house and things at work. Bills that needed paying, the grocery list she should add to. When she managed to push those thoughts aside, she became hungry and there was no pushing that aside. She crept to the kitchen, listening to Danielle and Jennifer practicing jump rope in the front yard, then retreated again with her snacks.

The front door opened. She heard Danielle and Jennifer in the kitchen talking.

One of the drawbacks of this particular closet was that she could hear just about anything going on in the house. Maybe if she added some music? No, she wasn’t going that
direction. Clara didn’t need music to pray. Did she need a sound track in order to get close to God?

“My parents said you could spend the night if your mom was okay with it. We can jump in the pool too.”

“Let me go ask her,” Danielle said.

Elizabeth’s stomach tightened. She had hoped to keep her war room a secret, but only a few minutes after she had finished setting it up, footsteps padded into the room.

“Mom?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and spoke as if being in her closet were a natural thing. “I’m in here, Danielle.”

The door opened slowly and there was Danielle staring at her and the nearly empty soda bottle and the opened bag of tortilla chips. Danielle’s face told everything.

“Mom, are you okay?” her daughter finally said.

“Yes. What do you need?” She crunched another chip, sitting back on the bean bag chair.

“Why are you eating chips in the closet?”

The tortilla got stuck somewhere in her throat and Elizabeth swallowed hard. “I’m just having some private time, okay?”

The look on the girl’s face was priceless, but Elizabeth kept up the appearance that this was perfectly normal.

“Okay,” Danielle said, sounding unsure. “Jennifer wanted to know if I could spend the night. I already did my chores, and it’s okay with her parents.”

That last part came out a little whiny, but Elizabeth
decided to let that go. “All right, but I want you home by lunch tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Elizabeth crunched another chip, speaking with her mouth full as Danielle turned to leave. “And, Danielle, don’t tell anybody I was eating chips in this closet.”

Her daughter nodded, then said over her shoulder, “Don’t tell anyone my mom was eating chips in the closet, okay?”