An Unexpected Miracle--Epilogue

Epilogue

Two years later

            Joe gazed down at the two infants sleeping peacefully at either end of the crib.  God had blessed him again in a mighty way.  Through much pain and prayer, Joe had finally come to believe in the miracle of his son’s conception and birth.  There was really no way to deny it since Isaac grew to look more like Joe every day.  And a true miracle it appeared to be since Joe’s doctor remained adamant there was no way Joe could father child.  But shortly after Isaac’s first birthday Mari conceived again.  She gave birth to identical twin girls on New Year’s Eve just after their son’s second birthday.  They had their mother’s brown hair and hazel eyes, but there on the underside of their wrists was the distinctive Conley birthmark. 

Joe smiled at God’s graciousness in allowing Joe another chance to become a father, to see this pregnancy through from beginning to end.  This time when Mari came down with the flu Joe insisted she go to the doctor immediately.  He sat expectantly in the waiting room until Mari came out, her face stunned.  Joe had just smiled and kept smiling for the next nine months, through morning sickness, Taco Bell cravings, and even when his adorable wife complained about feeling like a beached whale in her fifth month.  His only concern was how big she was getting and how uncomfortable she was.  When Marla told them they were having twins he sat down and cried with joy, cradling his wife tenderly.

Now he stood next to the crib smiling down at two beautiful baby girls, holding his sleeping son in his arms.  Marilee entered the nursery silently and smiled.  Since they had brought the girls home from the hospital a month ago she often found her husband standing next to the crib holding two year old Isaac.

“Time for bed, honey,” she whispered.  She leaned up and kissed her son’s soft baby cheek then kissed Joe.  Looking into his bright blue eyes, her own were filled with joy.  “Thank you for another miracle.”

An Unexpected Miracle Chapter 22 Part 2

            As Joe was reading the Christmas Story Mari was driving back from the mall.  It was about three o’clock the afternoon of Christmas Eve.  The pain in her back that had been plaguing her for the last day or so changed as she was pulling out onto

Hall Road

.  The dull ache morphed into an uncomfortable twinge that begin at the small of her back and radiated to her belly region. Mari ignored it, blaming it on indigestion, which she seemed to suffer from constantly, or possibly from all the walking she had done at the mall that day.  She was not due for another three weeks, so the thought of labor pains did not really cross her mind. 

At seven o’clock, while Joe was anxiously squirming in the middle seat in the coach section of the crowded plane, Mari could no longer ignore the pain, but was still unwilling to believe her labor had actually begun and the long expected baby was on the way.  She wrapped the gifts she had purchased that day at the mall, stopping as each contraction hit.  When the wrapping was finished Mari walked slowly around the room, occasionally leaning up against the wall to relieve the pain.  Walking seemed to lessen the contractions and she tried to convince herself that they were just Braxton-Hicks contractions and they would go away soon.

At nine thirty, as Joe’s plane touch down at Detroit Metro Airport, Mari was crawling upstairs to pack a bag for the hospital.  It was no longer possible to deny that she was in full blown labor.  The pain was so intense, the contractions coming so fast, she could not stand up.  When she tried to move into an upright position nausea hit her and she struggled not to vomit.  She finally dragged herself into the master bedroom, collapsing on the floor beside the bed. 

At eleven, when Joe’s car was squealing into the driveway of their home, Mari was lying next to the bed, paralyzed with fear.  Contractions pounded her exhausted body.  Her face glistened with sweat, her hands gripped her belly and she was crying out for Joe.

            Joe threw open the front door and paused, listening, not sure Mari was even home.  Her car was in the drive, covered with a light coating of snow, but it was possible she had caught a ride to church and gone to Gretchen and Glen’s afterwards, which is what they usually did on Christmas Eve.  Christmas lights glowed in each room but there was no sign of Mari.  He paused for a moment trying to determine what he should do.  All was silent, then a faint cry made it to his ears.  He cocked his head, listening carefully, and it came again.  This time he could make out his name.

            “Mari!” Joe shouted, taking the stairs two at a time, frantically calling her name.  He rushed into their bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks.  His eyes widened in panic as he saw his wife lying on the floor next to their bed, her arms wrapped protectively around her belly.  Her eyes were closed and tears dripped down her cheeks.  He could see her lips moving but could not hear any words.  Suddenly Mari’s body clenched and she groaned in pain.

            “Joe,” she whimpered, before opening her eyes to see her husband standing in the doorway.  He came forward, leaned over her, and gently pushed the tumbled mass of brown hair away from her face.  “You’re here,” she whispered.

            “Yeah, I’m here,” he whispered back. He carefully lifted her and placed her on the bed.  “Why are you still here, honey?  You should have gone to the hospital.”

            Tears fell.  “I’m so scared,” Mari whispered.  “It hurts so much, Joe.”  Another pain gripped her.  She grabbed his arm, panting hard, body clenching.  Joe winced at the strength of her grip.  He never realized how strong she was.

            “Been working out since I’ve been gone?” he teased, when the pain had finally passed.

            A weak smile appeared.  “I wanted to be able to knock some sense into you.”

            Joe’s eyes darkened in pain. “That won’t be necessary, sweetheart.  I think I’ve finally come to my senses.”  He gently pulled her into a sitting position.  “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

            Just as he was leaning down to scoop her up, Mari eyes became wide as saucers and she looked down.  Joe’s eyes followed and they both watched as a wet spot appeared on the white comforter.  The spot grew wider and became tinged with red.  Mari’s startled gaze flew to Joe’s and he could read the naked fear in them.

            “Don’t panic,” he ordered, as she began to whimper.  Another pain hit, stronger this time, and the stain widened and grew crimson against the white of the comforter.  He waited for the pain to subside then the leaned over her to grab the phone on the bedside table.  He dialed 911 and spoke as calmly as he could.

            “My wife is in labor.  She’s bleeding… I can’t tell how heavily…3120 Abbott…Thank you.”  He put the receiver down.  “They’ll be here soon, honey.”

            “My doctor’s number is next to the phone downstairs,” Mari panted through another contraction.

            “I thought you were seeing Marla.”

            “Marla thought it would be better if I saw someone else,” she told him as she gritted through the pain.  This pain was longer and stronger than any of the previous ones.  When it was over she sagged back against the pillows, feeling like a limp rag.  “She felt a high risk ob would be better.”  When Joe looked even more worried, Mari smiled wanly.  “I’m old.”

            “You aren’t old,” he said.

            “There have been days when I’ve really felt it.”  Mari grasped his hand as another contraction hit.  “Marla has a friend who specializes in high risk pregnancies.  She was willing to add me to her patient list.  She works out of the same hospital as Marla so the two have been working together on my case,” Mari panted out the explanation.

            “I think I hear the ambulance, Mari.  I’m going to go down and let them in.”  Joe rushed out the door.  Mari grasped the edge of the bed, curling in pain, fighting against the contraction. 

            A short time later the paramedics banged up the stairs and hurried into the room with Joe following close on their heels.  Seeing Mari lying on the bed, one came and leaned over her, observing the blood stained comforter with a critical eye.   The woman slipped on latex gloves and carefully removed Mari’s maternity pants.  “I’m a trained midwife.  I just want to do a quick exam,” she told Joe, who was watching them with fear in his eyes.  She gently examined Mari, watching carefully as another contraction hit.  She glanced over at her partner.  “I don’t think she’s going to make it to the hospital, Daryl.”  Mari’s eyes grew wide in panic.  “You’re fine, Mrs. Conley.”  As she was pulling Mari’s tunic lower to cover her, Marla bolted through the door.

            “I thought I told you to wait until at least December thirty-first, Mari. That way you get a tax break all year with only a few hours of actually having the kid.”  She spoke softly to the paramedic who had examined Mari, then leaned down to brush the hair from Mari’s face.  Spotting Joe sitting on the other side of the bed next to his wife, Marla shot him a look that said she would wait until later to tell him just what she thought of him.  Joe nodded in understanding and turning his gaze back down to his wife who was beginning to experience another sharp contraction.  Marla rested a hand on Mari’s hard swollen belly, then bent down to lift Mari’s shirt.  “Hand me a pair of gloves, will you, Daryl?” Slipping them on, she did a quick examination then said, “It’s going to be very soon, Mari.   You need to do just what I say, do you hear me?”

            “The neighbors can hear you,” Mari whispered as the pain eased.  “Is the baby okay?

            “The baby appears to be just fine, as far as I can tell.  But I don’t want to deliver in the ambulance and that’s what would happen if we left now.  It’s not ideal, with your blood pressure problems and all, but being here is definitely better than being on the road.  Jenna, here, will monitor your blood pressure through the delivery.  As soon as the two of you are stable after the birth, we’ll get you to the hospital and we can check both of you out.”

            “What about the blood, Marla?” Joe asked, anxiety filling his voice.

            “From what I can feel the pressure of the contractions has appeared to cause some kind of tear in Mari’s vagina.  It’s not a common occurrence but not unheard of.  Normally she would have been in the hospital with the doctor and nurses helping to prevent this kind of thing.  Mari may need some stitches but I’m pretty sure nothing else is wrong.”

            Joe gripped Mari’s hand tightly.  He could not lose her.  As another pain struck, Joe closed his eyes and prayed as he had never prayed before.  When he opened his eyes Mari was watching him with hazel eyes filled with so much love Joe’s heart swelled.

            “I missed you so much,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

            “I missed you too, honey.  We’ll talk later I promise, but right now you have to concentrate on delivering this baby.”  Just as he said the words another contraction came and Mari cried out in agony.

            “Okay, Mari,” Marla said.  “It’s time to bring this little bundle into the world.  Don’t push until I tell you to.  I need to make sure the cord isn’t wrapped around the baby’s neck.  It’s going to hurt, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”  For the next moments Marla gently felt to make sure everything was okay.  Mari groaned as another contraction hit. Marla coached her through it and Joe held her hand. 

            “I need to push, Marla,” Mari cried, her forehead drenched with the sweat of her labor.  “It hurts so much.”

            “I know, sweetie, but you have to wait a couple more minutes,” Marla commanded.  Finally she gave Mari the okay to push and moments later a squalling baby boy was delivered into Marla’s hands. 

            “Twelve oh one,” the female paramedic announced.  “Merry Christmas!”

            Joe leaned over and saw his son for the first time.  “He’s perfect, Mari,” Joe’s voice was awed, and tears ran down his cheeks. 

            Marla handed him a pair of scissors.  “Want to do the honors, Dad?” she asked.  Joe took the scissors from her hand, knowing that she had indeed given him an honor, one that he did not deserve.  His hands trembled slightly as he cut the baby’s cord.  Then the newborn was wrapped in a soft cotton towel and laid on his mother’s chest.                         

“He’s beautiful,” Mari whispered, tears flowing freely.  Joe leaned over and gently enveloped his wife and the baby in his arms.  

            Marla stepped away from the bed to allow the couple a few moments of privacy then directed Joe to take the baby over to the other side of the room so she could talk to Mari.  “We’ll finish here, then we can move you and the baby to the hospital,” she instructed.   Several minutes later she motioned for Joe to come back over.  He did so, carefully putting the baby into Mari’s hands.

            The paramedics packed up their equipment before loading Mari and the new baby onto a gurney.  They secured them in the ambulance and drove away with Joe following in his car.  After Mari was situated into a room, he waited impatiently in the hall outside as the on-call obstetrician gave her a thorough examination.  The baby had been whisked off to the neonatal unit to also be given a comprehensive exam.  The nurse brought the baby back before Mari was finished and handed the warmly wrapped bundle to Joe.  “You can bond with your son for a few minutes,” she smiled.  “He’ll want to eat soon but your wife should be finished by then.”

            Joe gazed down at the small life held in his hands.  The baby’s eyes were open and looking up at him.  Joe could see they were a bright blue, like his own.  “Oh, Lord,” he whispered.  “Can it really be possible?  Could you have really granted me a miracle?”  A small arm had escaped the blanket and Joe carefully grasped it. When he gently lifted the tiny arm to his lips, Joe saw the small, tear-shaped birthmark on the underside of the baby’s wrist.  He gasped in awe.  His father and grandfather both had that birthmark, the same one Joe had.  Tears gathered in his eyes.  “Thank you,” he whispered looking up.

            The doctor came out of Mari’s room smiling at the sight Joe made with his son.  “Your wife should be just fine.  The delivery was kind of rough on her, but as long as she gets the proper nutrition and a lot of rest, she should make a full recovery.”  She looked down at the baby.  “He’s a handsome fellow,” she commented.  “Looks a lot like you.”  Then she walked away.

            Joe quietly entered the room and saw Mari, eyes closed, lying in the bed.  She looked so fragile, so delicate, and so beautiful his breath caught.  He walked over, speaking softly to his son as he did.  “That’s your mom, little guy.  She went through a lot to get you here.  But she won’t have to do the rest alone.  I’ll be here to help.”  He reached the bed and leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips.  Mari’s eyes fluttered open at the contact and a smiled blossomed. 

            “Joe,” she whispered.  “You’re really here.”

            “You said that already,” he joked softly, positioning himself gently on the edge of the bed.  He held the baby lower so Mari could see him.  “He has my eyes,” Joe said.  Mari looked up at him.  “I’m so sorry, Mari,” Joe apologized, tears filling his eyes.  “All this time wasted because I refused to believe in you and trust in God.”

            “You’re forgiven,” Mari’s eyes were misty as she smiled.  “He looks like you.”

            “Thank you so much for this gift,” Joe said.  He bent his head and holding the baby in one hand, took Mari’s hand in the other.  “Lord, thank you so much for this precious gift you’ve given us.  And thank you for Mari’s forgiveness.  Watch over us, Lord, as we try to raise this child in a way that would please you.  Amen.”

            Mari lifted her eyes.  “We never discussed names, honey.”  Joe looked at her.  “The baby is not supposed to leave the hospital without a name.  I was thinking Joseph Anthony Conley, Jr.”

            Joe smiled.  “That sounds good, but how about Isaac Joseph Conley?”  When Mari looked confused, Joe’s smile grew to a grin.  “Isaac. ‘He laughs’.  I kind of feel like Abraham when he didn’t believe God could give him a child in his old age.”

            “You’re not that old, honey.”

            “Yeah, I know.” His brow wrinkled.  “I think.  But I didn’t believe God could give me the miracle of a child.  At least Abraham laughed.  I sulked and ran away.”

            “But you’re back.”

            “Yes.  To stay.  To stay with the woman I love and the miracle God gave us.”  Joe turned away for a moment.  “This little boy has the Conley family birthmark on him Mari.  I know he’s mine.”  He turned back to face her, and looked directly into her eyes.  “But even if I didn’t know for sure, he would still be mine.  I came back because I love you, Mari.  I came back because God chose to give me a child through His means.  And no matter what happens, Mari, I will love you both, always.”

An Unexpected Miracle Chapter 22 Part 1

Chapter Twenty-Two

          Christmas Eve morning dawned bright and sunny.  Mari stood at the bedroom window and gazed out at her backyard.  The world was covered in a blanket of freshly fallen snow that glistened in the bright sunshine.  Mari loved having a white Christmas.  But her heart was heavy this morning.  Without Joe here to share it, the holiday had become a time of sadness and fear of the unknown.  She turned back into the room, sinking down on the side of the bed.  She was so tired today, more so than she had been in the last couple of months.  Her lower back ached with a dull pain, her feet were swollen, and her heart was bruised.  Mari ran her hand over her large, swollen belly.  “I love you, baby,” she whispered.  She had been talking to the baby every day, reading him Bible stories and telling him about his father.  It helped get her through the long days and nights without falling into total despair.

          Mari pushed herself up from the bed.  Today was Christmas Eve.  Although she did not feel her best, she refused to mope around the house on the day of the night before Christmas.  She and Joe always went shopping on Christmas Eve, roaming the mall, people watching and buying presents for each other.  She would keep that tradition going this year even though Joe was not here.  She pulled out the new outfit she had purchased on a whim last week.  The Christmas red tunic clung to her torso to fall gracefully over her rounded stomach.  She stood in front of the mirror and eyed herself critically.  The top fit more snugly today than it had been just last week when she bought it, emphasizing the bulge of her tummy.  “I look huge,” she sighed and turned her back on her reflection.

          The drive to the mall was difficult.  Last night’s snow made the roads slippery.  That and the fact there were a ton of people out and about made Mari extremely cautious.  Plus, it was very cramped behind the wheel, her stomach seeming to fill any space between the seat and steering wheel.  She could not help but grin at the sight she made.  “I will be so happy when you get here, baby,” she chuckled as she tugged herself out of the car after finally finding a parking spot.  “It will be nice to be able to fit in the front seat again.”

          The mall was crowded and Mari was jostled as she walked through the throng of people.  The backache that had been nagging her most of last night and this morning intensified as she made her way from store to store but she pushed the uncomfortable sensation out of her mind.  She picked up small gifts for her friends and a couple of items for the baby.  She would wrap these and place them under the tree along with the other gifts she had purchased over the last couple weeks.  Happy with her purchases, she was just about to leave the mall when she spotted the perfect gift for Joe. 

          She was passing the card store when a small statue of a man sitting on a stool caught her eye.  His head was bowed, hands resting on his thighs, and he appeared to be staring at the small bundle resting at his feet.  Mari moved to the window to get a closer look and found that the small bundle was, in fact, a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes.  The name of the statue was “Resting At His Feet”.  All the man had to do was choose to pick up the child.  In essence, he would be picking up Jesus, choosing Jesus. 

          Tears pricked Mari’s eyes.  It was a poignant message not just for Joe, but for Mari also.  She had been resting in her own strength for too long but her grip was slipping quickly.  What a fool I am, Mari thought as she walked into the store.  I can see Joe’s sin so well, but I’ve totally ignored my own.  In the time since Joe had been gone Mari had been relying on her own strength to get through the days.   Yes, she prayed, she read her Bible, she spoke to her friends about what she was facing.  But in her heart she knew she was not trusting God to provide the best for her and the child she carried. 

          She took the statue up to the counter where the salesperson proceeded to wrap it.  After paying for the gift, Mari left the mall and walked to her car.  The winter sun had been replaced by low, gray clouds.  Snow flakes were floating down from a slate gray sky.  Looking up Mari stood still and let the icy flakes fall on her upturned face.  Feelings of hurt and anger fled in the face of the beauty of the minute ice crystals falling from the sky.  She held out her hand and watched as the snow drifted softly into her mitten covered palm.  Just like me, Mari thought.  Resting in the hand of God.

          Mari stowed her packages in the back seat of her SUV and got in.  Staring out at the white world in front of her, Mari spoke.  “I’m sorry, Father,” she said softly.  “Sorry for not trusting you with my life, with Joe’s life, with my parent’s life.  I miss them, but they’re happy with you.  I know they loved me.  But I know they loved you too.  You had a plan for them and you have a plan for me.  Help me, Lord, to find that plan and to live it fully for your glory, not my own.”

           Joe stared unseeingly out the window of the high rise apartment he had called home for the past two months.  Christmas carols played softly in the background and a fire burned cheerily in the fireplace.  He should have been concentrating on preparing for the next group of meetings he had, but he just could not summon the energy.  It had been over eight weeks since he last saw his wife and his heart still ached.  He had come to Houston against Pastor Nolan’s advice because he was hurt and angry over Mari’s insistence she had not had an affair when there was no other explanation for her pregnancy.

            He remembered the sadness in her eyes when he told her he was leaving to go to Houston for at least six months.  It was a trip Joe had previously turned down, telling his boss he did not want to leave home for that long.  But the strained circumstances at home led him to re-evaluate. Since his boss had not yet found anyone to take the trip, Joe told him he had reconsidered and would now go.  It was just too hard seeing Mari everyday, watching as her belly expanded and the child inside her grew.  No matter how much she insisted the child was his, he just could not believe her, could not bring himself to believe that a miracle had occurred and he was going to be a father.

            Turning away from the glowing skyline, Joe walked over to the couch and threw himself down.  It might be Christmas Eve but his heart refused to respond to the warmth of the holiday as it had in times past.  This season he felt cold and alone, abandoned by the Savior whose birth was being celebrated.  In an effort to get through the evening he grabbed his Bible off the end table and flipped it open to Matthew.  Although most people read Luke when they read the “Christmas story” Joe preferred Matthew’s depiction since it told more of Joseph’s side of the story.  Being a Joseph himself, he had always felt a kinship to the human father of Jesus, if only in name.

            Joe read about Joseph’s finding out his bride-to-be was pregnant and his plan to divorce her quietly.  Sitting back, he put the book down a moment, thinking how similar their situations appeared to be.  Although he knew Mari was not a virgin, they’d been married ten years after all, she was with child, one he was sure could not be his.  And like that Joseph of old, he was thinking of divorcing Mari quietly, even though the thought of leaving her permanently was almost impossible to bear.

            He knew the rest of the story by heart, of course, since he had memorized it the first Christmas after he became a Christian. “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is through the Holy Spirit.”  When he came to those words, Joe stopped reading and gave serious thought to what Joseph might have felt upon finding out about his fiancée’s condition.  Here was a man, a righteous man, learning of his fiancée’s pregnancy, then being told by an angel that the child in his fiancée’s womb was the son of God.  What extraordinary faith Joseph must have had to take Mary as his wife, be with her when she gave birth, then raise the child as his own, knowing the child was not his biological son.  What responsibility he faced and shouldered to rear the Son of God.

            Tears of repentance welled in Joe’s eyes and fell down his cheeks. How foolish and arrogant for him to believe he was the only person to ever face such a dilemma.  Blinded by his own anger and pain, he had totally failed to consider what Mari was going through.  She had been so very sick in the beginning when they had both thought she had a stubborn case of the flu.  Then after she told him about the pregnancy, he had totally withdrawn from her both to punish her and to salvage his pride.  He refused to listen to her insistence that this was his child.  Instead he ignored her for the next two months then ran off to Houston when he could not handle it anymore, planning on not coming home until after she gave birth and then only to retrieve his belongings.

            Then a thought hit him sending him straight up in his seat.  What if she died?  Women still died in childbirth, he knew, although it was rare in this day of advanced medical care.  She had seemed so fragile when he left, her face pale and her body so thin, except for her rounded belly.

            “I have to see her,” he cried out loud.  Jumping up from the couch, he stumbled into the bedroom in his haste.  He grabbed his overnight bag out of the closet.  He tossed a few items in, not bothering to fold them.  Striding over to the nightstand, he opened the drawer and picked up the picture of Mari in her bridal dress, holding it gently in his hands.  The wedding picture of his wife was the one concession to his love he had made when he left home.  “I’ll be home soon,” he whispered, willing his thoughts across the miles to Mari.  Tucking the picture gently between some shirts to protect it against breaking, he zipped the bag and headed out the door.

            He had to cool his heels in the Houston airport for almost an hour before the service representative at the counter was able to find him a seat on a plane headed to Detroit.  Passing the time before his flight, he called Ray to let him know what was going on.  Ray gave a heart felt amen and prayed for Joe before they hung up.  Joe paced the airport, to tense to settle.  He glanced up and saw he was passing a baby store.  Smiling at God’s sense of humor, he went in and was immediately struck by the cutest stuffed bunny.  Knowing it was the perfect gift for the new little one, he promptly purchased it as well as a book he saw for new fathers. 

When his flight was called, Joe hastened back to the gate.  Thankful he was able to get a seat at all, he cheerfully accepted the seat in the middle of the coach section.  His was the center seat, and he found himself between an overly cranky adolescent and his equally cranky mother.  Joe offered to let them sit next to each other, but the mother said it was probably better that they did not.  Watching the teen, Joe could see her point.  They both appeared tired and the woman explained that her son’s father had decided he did not want to see his only child over the Christmas holiday.  When she finished speaking, she turned her head to stare out the window before dozing off.

            “Sorry about your Dad,” Joe said to the teen when he saw the mother was sleeping.  He felt totally inadequate but could not just let the boy sit and stew over something that was clearly not his fault.

            The teen gave a sad sigh.  “Not your problem,” he commented.

            “True,” Joe replied, “but it isn’t yours either.”  When the boy looked at him in question, Joe continued.  “Your dad made a choice, one that he may regret later.  I’ve made a couple of those myself lately.”

            “You not want to see your kid?” the boy asked, a note of accusation in his voice.

            “Something like that.” Joe replied.  He felt an inordinate urge to reach out to this sad and angry young man.  “You know, my dad left my mom and me when I was just a little younger than you.  I’ve actually only seen him twice since then.”

            The boy looked at him in wonder.  “Wow, that’s a long time.”

            Joe hid a grin.  Thirty-six probably was old to a teenager.  “I’ve been angry about my parents for a long time but just today I realized that God had a plan for me.  And even though my earthly dad wasn’t around for me, when I finally accepted Christ, I saw that my heavenly father was always there.”

            “That’s what my mom keeps telling me.  She told me it wasn’t my fault that they split up but I shouldn’t blame my dad either.  She says he’s lost.”

            “Are you a believer?  I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

            “I’m Joey.” The boy held out his hand in a very adult attempt at introducing himself.  “And, yeah.  I believe.  Kind of.”

            “That’s my name too,” Joe said, gripping the boy’s hand firmly.  His smiled widened.  “And I kind of believed for a long time, too.  I finally stopped fighting today.”

            “I’m really mad at my dad.” The words practically burst from Joey’s lips.

            “I know you are.  But God can help you with that.”  They spoke for a few more minutes then, exhaustion finally winning, the boy leaned his head back, and a short time later drifted off to sleep.  Joe sat silently between mother and son and marveled at God’s providence.  To sit next to a youngster who was actually going through almost the same situation Joe had go through had to be divine intervention.  Joe just was not sure who had actually helped whom.

An Unexpected Miracle Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

     The girls sat in various stages of repose.  Jennifer, being the only one not pregnant, had her legs thrown over the arms of her chair, popcorn nestled in her lap.  Marla, who was only a couple months along, was the most of agile of the “baby club” and had chosen to sit on the floor with her back resting on the couch where Gretchen was squirming, trying to find a comfortable position.  Marilee was slumped in a chair across from Jennifer, her feet resting on the ottoman she had pulled up.  She had a bag of goldfish resting on her large belly.

     “This was a good idea,” Jennifer commented as they watched the movie.  “Although why we’re watching a Star Trek movie is beyond me.”

     “It’s the whales,” Mari responded, popping a goldfish in her mouth.  “I love the whale movie.”

     “Yeah, me too” Marla agreed.  “Although if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it vehemently.  My favorite part is where Spock speaks the ‘language of the times’.”

     “We’re watching Nemo next,” Gretchen announced.  “I thought we should stick to the water theme.”

     There was quiet for a while as the movie played then Mari groaned.  “Pause the movie,” she commanded as she struggled out of her chair.  “I have to pee.”

     “Again?” Marla’s voice was shocked.  “You just went twenty minutes ago.”

     “Yes, again.  Just wait until you’re this far along.  It feels like Junior is playing kickball with my bladder.”

     “Really?” Marla looked over her shoulder to see Gretchen nod.

     “Oh, yeah,” she confirmed.  “Though it’s not quite that bad for me yet.”

     Mari finally waddled back into the room and resettled in her chair.  “So much better,” she sighed with happiness as she propped up her feet.  Before Jennifer could hit the play button, Gretchen climbed off the couch.  “Hold that thought, Jen.  I gotta go now.”

     “So, how have you been feeling lately, Mari?” Marla asked as they waited for Gretchen to return.

     “Are you asking professionally or personally?”

     “Both.”

     “I’m tired, I’m fat, and my feet hurt.  Other than that I’m doing just peachy.”

     Marla ignored the sarcasm knowing it masked the true pain she was feeling.  “First, you are not fat.  You’re eight months pregnant.  Second, you can alleviate the pain and swelling in your feet by actually getting off them once in a while, which should also help with that first one.”

     “Should I be recording this to play back for you?  Greg does talk you know.”

     “What has that man been saying about me?”

     “Let’s just say his stimulating dinner conversation has pretty much fallen on deaf ears.  Or should I say sleeping ones?”

     “That rat!  I told him not to say anything.”  Marla looked over at Jennifer to explain.  “I fell asleep at the dinner table the other night.  Right into my spaghetti.”  When Mari started giggling Marla threw her a glare.  “I was tired!  I had a full load of patients!” she defended herself.

     “Yeah, I’ll bet.  Greg said it took almost an hour to get the sauce out of your hair.”

     “Children,” Jennifer interrupted before Marla could throw out another comment.  “Let’s play nice.”

     “What did I miss?” Gretchen asked as she plopped back down on the couch.

     “Not a thing,” Jennifer assured her, casting a silencing frown in Mari’s direction.  “Are we ready?”  She pressed play before anyone could answer.

     There were a few moments of quiet as the movie played.  Jennifer caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and saw the first goldfish fly.  It was quickly followed by a Swedish fish, then all manner of other odds and ends.  She turned up the volume on the television so she could hear over the laughter and grinned to herself.  Yes, this had been a very good idea indeed.

     When the ruckus had finally calmed Jennifer turned off the movie.  “Look at the mess you’ve made,” she admonished them, a fake scowl on her face.  Before she could add anything else, Mari, Marla, and Gretchen all launched their ammunition at Jennifer and the war began again.

     “Oh, my,” Mari breathed, when they had finally stopped.  She looked over her family room.  “We made a mess.”

     “Master of the obvious,” Gretchen laughed, then groaned.  “Stop making me laugh.  I have to go to the bathroom again.”

     “You go,” Jennifer ordered, “and we’ll start cleaning up.”

     It took thirty minutes for order to be restored to the family room due to a couple of small skirmishes that broke out.  By the time they were finished picking up it was after ten.  Jennifer shooed Marla and Gretchen out the door, then turned to face Mari.

     “So, how are you really doing?” she asked when they were alone.

     “It’s hard, Jen,” Mari answered, walking back into the family room a hand pressed into the small of her back trying to alleviate the persistent ache.  “I have about six weeks to go, and I have no idea if Joe will come home.”  She lowered herself into a chair.  “I haven’t heard anything from him and if someone else has, I don’t know about it.”

     “Have you tried contacting him?”

     “No,” Mari sighed.  “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve picked up the phone, then put it down again.  I just have no idea what to say.”

     “You know, Mary, Jesus’ mother, was a tremendous woman.”  At Mari’s questioning glance, Jennifer continued.  “She was young, alone, and had just been told that she was going to have a baby.  But she trusted God absolutely.  I doubt it was easy for her.  How do you tell the man you’re going to marry that you’re pregnant?  And not just pregnant, but pregnant by the Holy Spirit and carrying the Son of God.”  Jennifer paused and walked over to the window.  She gazed out at the night, watching the reflection of twinkling lights on the snow.  “Joseph was going to divorce her.  But still she trusted.”

     “It’s kind of ironic how our stories seem to mirror each other.  But I’m not carrying God’s son.”

     “Well, actually Mari, in a way you are.  All believers are God’s children.  And I’m fairly positive you plan to raise this child in a Christian home.  He or she may come to know the Lord and choose to follow him.  In which case, you are raising a future son or daughter of God.”

     “It sounds so wonderful when you say it like that Jen,” Mari sighed.  “But I’m not sure I’m as strong as Jesus’ mother.  Joseph was told in a dream not to divorce Mary.  I don’t think my Joe is going to get that message.  And I don’t know if I can raise this child without Joe’s help.”

     “It’s true that Joseph did stay with Mary and they had other children together.  But after that scene in the temple when Jesus was twelve, Joseph isn’t mentioned again.  How do you know Mary didn’t raise her children alone after Jesus was twelve?”

     Mari did not answer and Jennifer remained silent for a few moments.

     “You and Joe are both facing big issues here, Mari.  Mark has never told me what he and Joe discussed in the few times they met together, but it’s obvious to me Joe didn’t have the secure upbringing you had and he is struggling with that.  You had a stable family life with parents who adored you, but even you are still struggling with the anger of being ‘abandoned’ by your parents.  And now you are being ‘abandoned’ by Joe.  But God, who will never abandon you, is bigger than all this.  You need to let him work in both of your hearts.”

     Jennifer went and sat on the arm of Marilee’s chair.  Mari reached for her hand and clutched it.  “I don’t want to go through this alone, Jennifer.  I’m so scared,” her words were hushed and full of anguish.

     “I know you are, Mari.  And you are never alone.  When the time comes we will all be there for you.”  She stood and pulled Mari up with her.  “Now go to bed.  I’ll turn everything off and lock up before I leave.”

     “Thanks, Jen.”  Mari shuffled tiredly towards the stairs then turned.  “I know my mom would want to be here, but since she can’t be then I’m glad you are.”

     As Mari trudged up the stairs, Jennifer stared after her, tears creeping down her cheeks.  She swiped them away and turned to go.  “If only, Lord,” she whispered as she shut the door behind her.

An Unexpected Miracle Chapter

Chapter Twenty

     The week following the holiday dragged for Joe.  Work was work and he had quite a bit of it, but that was the extent of his life and it was beginning to wear on him.  By Thursday afternoon he was ready to call Ray and tell him he was taking some time off.

     “Hey, Joe,” Ray popped his head through Joe’s office door almost as if Joe had somehow telepathically summoned him.  “Tanya and the kids left this morning for Austin to visit her parents for the weekend.  Why don’t you come over tonight and watch the Stars destroy the Wings?”

     “Like that will happen,” Joe scoffed.  He hesitated a moment, unsure of an answer.  In the weeks he had been down in Houston he had deliberately managed to limit any time alone with Ray to only work related issues.  Going to his house to watch a hockey game would provide Ray a golden opportunity to confront Joe about the difference in his personality this trip compared to the last one.  But the desire to unburden himself was too strong to ignore.

     “Sure,” he finally agreed.  “I’ll stop and pick up some wings on my way over.”

     “Just make them mild this time, will ya?  My mouth was burning for a week after the last ones you brought over.”

     Joe smiled.  He was not tremendously fond of super hot wings himself, but Ray had been making fun of his mid-western eating habits.  Eating mega hot buffalo wings was the only way he could think of to prove he could hang with the Texan. 

     They agreed on a time and Ray went back to his office.  Joe placed a phone order for the wings on his way out of the office.  Driving through rush hour traffic left him feeling tense.  Arriving home, he dropped his coat on the end of the couch, breathing a sigh of relief that he had made plans tonight.  One more night alone in this apartment might send him right over the edge.  His own company was definitely beginning to wear on him.  The loneliness of this separation from Marilee was tearing him apart.

     Unable to stop himself, he shifted his gaze to the phone to check for messages.  Mari had not called since he had been here, so Joe was not surprised to find the only message from the dry cleaners telling him his suits were ready.  Disappointment gnawed at his belly, irritating him.  Why did he expect to hear from his wife when they had parted so badly?  He had told her he needed time to think without her being around.  He bit back a sigh before walking back to the bedroom to change his clothes.

     It was a short ride to Ray’s from his apartment, which was a blessing.  His mind was whirling already and if he spent any more time wondering what Mari was doing he was going to drive himself crazy.  Ray and the game would be a welcome distraction from himself, as long as Ray did not decide to probe.  Yeah, like that’s going to happen, he grimaced to himself as he strode up the walkway.

     Ray greeted him cheerfully at the front door when Joe knocked.   He glanced down at the bag Joe held, hesitating before he reached out to grab it.

     Joe grinned.  “It doesn’t bite, Ray,” he laughed.  “It won’t burn either.  I got mild kookaburra wings from Outback.”

     “Good,” Ray sighed in relief.  “My stomach and I thank you.”

     Ray deposited the bag on the coffee table in the family room and gestured towards a chair.  “What will you have to drink?” he asked as he headed into the kitchen.

     “Just give me a Coke,” Joe called, taking two boxes of wings out of the bag.  He pulled the coffee table closer to the couch and sat back.  A glass of Coke appeared over his shoulder followed by Ray. 

      Aiming the remote at the television, Ray settled back on the couch with a plate of wings in his lap.  He sighed in contentment, grinning at Joe.  “This feels good.  Work has been a bear lately, hasn’t it?”

       Joe paused, a wing half way to his mouth.  “I haven’t noticed anything different.  What’s up?”

       “Nothing a bit of time and a lot of patience won’t handle.  I have a couple of jumpy clients.  They expect miracles and I can’t give them one.”

       “What do they want?”

       “They want life to be perfect.  They want all their problems solved instantaneously without any work on their part.  I’ve had to tell them a few things they did not want to hear.”

       “I bet they loved that.”

       “Yeah.  As a Christian I know I should be compassionate and non-judgmental, but they are driving me nuts with their reasons why they did what they did.  It’s been a real test this week.”

       Joe averted his eyes.  A wave of guilt hit him.  He was so caught up in his own little world of anger and hurt that he was not even aware that a man he claimed as a friend was struggling so much.  Not that Joe could do anything for him.  How could he give advice when he was trying to deal with his own problems?

       Ray watched his friend closely.  He knew there was something bothering Joe.  His very presence in Houston attested to the fact there was a problem back in Michigan that was obviously eating at him.  Joe was normally a pretty friendly guy, but this time he was almost sullen.  Determined to find out what was causing this uncharacteristic anger, Ray decided directness was his only course.

       “So what is this problem that has you so torn up, Joe?” he asked bluntly.

     “Mari’s pregnant.” The words were torn out of him in a voice rife with pain and anger.

     “And that’s a problem?”

     “I had the mumps when I was in high school and it left me sterile.  If Mari is pregnant, the baby can’t be mine.”

     “You’re sure about that?”

     Joe jumped up, wing box flying.  “What do you mean, am I sure?  Of course I’m sure.”

     “Relax.  I’m just trying to get the details, Joe.  By the way you’re acting you obviously weren’t going through artificial insemination.”

     “No.  My doctor didn’t think it was worth it.”  Joe sank back down on the couch, the sudden surge of adrenaline leaving him limp with exhaustion.

     “So you think there’s someone else?”

     “She denies it, but there’s no other explanation.  We’ve been married ten years and never once used protection.”  He looked over at Ray.  “She told me she was pregnant the day I got home from Houston in August.  I worked a lot after that.  One day I saw a man leaving our house.  I assume it was the father.  Mari must have invited him over thinking I wouldn’t be the wiser.”

     “Did you ask her about it?”

     “Why?  I saw what I saw.  No explanations were needed.”

     Ray sat back.  Definite problems.  “I’m sorry, Joe.”

     “Not your fault.  I shouldn’t have spent so much time away from home.”

     “You talked to her every day.  Did she resent your time away that much?”

     “I didn’t think so.  But then again, you never know.”  His voice lowered.  “She must have gotten pregnant right after I left.”

     “That soon?  Did she have a one night stand or was it something longer?”

     “I have no idea.  I just know that she’s having a baby that isn’t mine and I have no idea what to do about it.”

     “What do you want to do about it,” Ray asked.

     “I don’t think I can handle raising some other man’s kid,” Joe announced.  He grimaced when he heard those words come out of his mouth.  It was his dad all over again.

     Ray flipped off the television and turned to Joe.  “Think carefully, Joe,” he warned.  “Don’t cut ties with Mari out of hurt or anger.”  He looked Joe straight in the eyes.  “See that picture there?” he asked Joe, pointing to a frame on the end table next to the couch.  “That’s my daughter Eliza,” he started. 

     “What about her?” Joe prompted when it did not appear Ray was going to finish.

     Taking a long, deep breath Ray said, “She isn’t mine.”

     “What do you mean by that?  She looks just like you.”

     “No, Joe, she doesn’t.  People see that because they believe that we are father and daughter.  But Eliza is not my biological daughter.”  When Joe only looked at him in confusion Ray went on.  “Tanya and I had some real problems when we were first married.  We weren’t Christians and tried to solve our differences in ways that make me shudder when I think about them now.”  He closed his eyes against the pain the memories caused.  “Things were so tough I had an affair shortly after we were married, just to relieve the stress of having to go home to my wife,” he admitted.  “Tanya’s idea of all’s fair made her go out and do the same.  It was just a one night stand and within a week of that happening we actually decided we would try to save our marriage.  But she got pregnant.  When she found out she was horrified and so ashamed.  She tried to kill herself.  That’s when we came to know Christ.  One of the nurses on her floor sat down and prayed for her, prayed for us.  I had never known peace before, but she was so peaceful.  I wanted it.  Tanya wanted it. 

     “When Tanya was able to go home, we found a church, found a pastor to counsel us.  The baby was large in her by then and such a reminder of what she, we, had done.  But I loved my wife and we worked hard at rebuilding our relationship.  Tanya hadn’t done anything that I hadn’t done, but the consequences for her were so much more.  God had forgiven me my sin, how could I hold anything Tanya had done against her when I was part of the reason she sinned in the first place? 

     “But still I struggled because deep inside I resented that baby.  Up until the day Eliza was born I resented her.  But when I saw my wife struggle to bring that new life into the world, when that little infant was laid in my arms, I cried out to God for forgiveness.  Eliza had not done a thing to deserve my hatred of her.  That day I promised her I would be the father she needed me to be because she was mine, maybe not of my body, but of my heart.”

     Ray sat back, energy spent.  He had not told that story to many people, but he knew the Holy Spirit was urging him to share it with Joe, who was now grappling with the same emotions Ray had lived through years ago.  When he looked up, Joe was staring at him.  His eyes were cloudy, rife with emotion.

     “How did you live through that?”

     “By the grace of God, and only by His grace.”

 

     “Marilee Rose Conley!”

     Mari was just about to put her knee on the counter when her boss’s shriek startled her so much she had to grab hold of the shelf in front of her to keep from falling backwards.  “Geez,” she cried, putting her free hand on her heart.  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she demanded when she turned her head to glare at Greg.

     “I might ask you the same question,” he retorted as he came over and plucked her off her perch, setting her firmly on the floor.  “Next time you decide to go climbing on rolling chairs, don’t.”

     “I was perfectly fine until you came in here screeching like a banshee.”

     “You’re eight months pregnant, woman!  You aren’t exactly balanced, and right now I mean that both physically and mentally,” Greg growled, glaring down at his recalcitrant research assistant.

     “I admit I’m a little more cumbersome than I used to be, but I’m perfectly capable of getting what I need.”

     “A little more cumbersome?  Mari—you’re the size of a Volkswagon and about as tall.”

     Her eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Would you care to rephrase that?”

     Greg ignored her.  “No.”  When she stalked towards him he backed up defensively.  “Okay, maybe you are a little taller.”  He put his hands up to ward her off.  “The point is, you can’t be climbing on things as unstable as a rolling lab chair.  In fact, I don’t care if it’s a stepping stool.  You should not be climbing on things, period.  You’ll fall and hurt yourself or the baby.”

     The fact Mari knew he was right did not make it any easier to give in, although she did, albeit rather ungraciously.  Greg did not care.  He had just won a major concession and was pleased with his victory.  Now if he could just get her to take longer lunch hours and shorter days and rest, but that was a battle for another time.

     “Let’s go get some lunch,” he suggested.  “I’ll treat.”

     “You always treat and you know it.”

     “Yeah, makes me feel macho.”

     “You’re such a goof,” Mari smiled.  She slipped into the coat Greg was holding for her.  “Just for that, you can take me to Majestic.  I’m craving a chicken ceaser salad.”

     “Walk or drive?” Greg asked as they stepped into the elevator.

     “Will you be annoyed if I say drive?  My feet are killing me.”

     Greg hid his worry.  “Not a problem.  I even promise not to give you a hard time about being lazy.”

     “Gee, thanks.”

     “Any time.”

     Lunch passed pleasantly.  They discussed Greg’s current research project and some of the experiments that might be of benefit.  Greg watched her unobtrusively as they talked, noticing the dark circles under her hazel eyes and the sadness that lurked there.  When the meal was over and they drove back to the Research Center, Greg pulled his car in behind Mari’s.  She looked at him questioningly.  “Go home,” he ordered.  She would have protested, but Greg silenced her with a hand over her mouth.  “You’re tired.  You need more rest, and Marla is harping on me to harp on you.  So now you’re duly harped.”

     “My stuff is in the lab.”

     “You have your purse, that’s all you need since you’re not going to think about work when you go home.”

     “Is that an order?”

     “Of course it is.  What’s the use of having a doctorate if I can’t boss someone around?”

     “One of these days, Dr. Wilson, I’m going to get a doctorate of my own.  Then what are you going to do?”

     “I’m so worried,” he shuddered dramatically, hand over his heart.

     “Oh stop!  I’ll go home like a good little girl, and maybe even take a nap.”

     “You do that.  If you need anything, give me a call.”

     “Thanks, Greg,” Mari said as she opened the door.  She leaned her head back in.  “For everything.”

     “What are friends for?”  When Mari had gotten into her car, Greg backed up letting her out.  He pulled into her spot.  “Yes,” he whispered, “what are friends for?”

     When Greg went back up to his office, he sat for a few minutes deep in thought.  He had allowed Joe almost two months to come to his senses, but time was running out for Mari.  The baby was due in a month.  Sitting up resolutely, he turned to his computer and began typing.

     “Come home you moron,” Joe read the subject line of the email from Greg and smiled despite himself.  Greg was generally a very tactful person, but he did not mince words when he considered it necessary.  It was one of the reasons Joe liked him so much.  But Joe could not come home.  Not yet. 

     He had finally broken down and told Ray about his marital problems just yesterday.  Ray had been sympathetic but had told him without mincing words that running away was not going to solve the dilemma he faced.  Ray offered the counsel of his pastor, but Joe refused.  He was not ready to deal with his own failings as a husband just yet.  It was easier to keep placing all the blame on Mari.

     The body of Greg’s email pierced him.  “She needs you,” he had written.  What that meant Joe really did not know and was not sure he wanted to.  It raised so many questions.  Did it mean that her lover had left her just as his mother’s lover had left her?   Was she missing Joe as much as he missed her?  Was she still sick?

      Joe groaned, not wanting to worry about Mari, but unable to stop it.  She’s a grown woman, he told himself.  She made her choices and now she has to live with the consequences.  But he acknowledged to himself that at least one of those choices was thrust on her.  She had not planned on Joe leaving.  There are people there to take care of her, his inner voice insisted.  They had many friends who would be there for her.  But his conscience kept reminding him that taking care of his wife was his responsibility.

     He hit the reply button, typed the words “Not yet,” and hit send.  He left the office and went back to his apartment.  After making himself dinner, he sat at the breakfast bar where he ate alone, again.

     When dinner was done and the few dishes stacked in the dishwasher Joe picked up his Bible from the breakfast bar where it sat, and retreated to the couch.  His Bible reading had been sporadic at best over the last couple months.  Where once the truths had given him comfort, now they just seemed to mock him.  The shock of Mari’s announcement and the fallout that followed had turned Joe away from the faith that had once given him comfort.  He felt abandoned by the One he was supposed to be able to count on.  Flipping the book open to the Psalms he began to read.  He echoed David’s cry for refuge from his troubles, and for the first time in what seemed like such a long time he felt a faint flicker of peace.  Hours later when his eyelids began to droop he laid the book down on his chest and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

     A loud thud woke Joe with a start.  He jerked into a sitting position, heart racing, to see his Bible lying on the floor.   His reached down to grab it and noticed a folded sheet of paper had fallen out of the book.  Picking it up, he opened it, seeing the note from his wife, dated the day before he left for Houston in April.

     “Joe,” the crisp, clean lines of her writing stated, “I wish you didn’t have to go.  I miss you more and more every time you leave for a business trip.  But I do understand that the work has to be done so don’t feel guilty about leaving.  I’ll be waiting at home with open arms when you get back.  Love always, Mari.”  He remembered reading that note on the plane trip down to Houston in April and had called his wife the second the flight attendant said they could use their cell phones.  The couple had spoken for a long time, long enough for the flight attendant to have to prompt Joe out of his seat so they could ready the plane for the next flight.

     It did not sound like a note from someone cheating on her spouse, but Joe supposed it could have been just a good cover.  Setting the note and his Bible on the coffee table Joe went to bed, praying he would be able to sleep.