Lines that Bite

Lines that Bite

I bought a new Christmas read, The Christmas List, by Richard Paul Evans. I have become quite the fan of his work and devour his books faster than a can of Pringles.

Well, this book touches my heart in big ways. There was one line that really bit me when the character, Sara, says, “You left me when I needed you the most”.

I held the place in the book with my finger while I was emotionally transported to the summer of 1998. I was in a terrible accident. It left me permanently affected with levels of suffering I had never imagined. Ten days later, my husband of nearly 16 years attacked me for the last time. He left at the behest of the police, never to return. He left me with 4 hurting children, no money, and no ability to work due to my injuries. I was in constant pain in every way. Summer turned to autumn in quiet unity. It was fall in my soul when love turns cold and hope that was once green with life dries up and flies away.

Forgotten were the days when he had suffered appendicitis and had emergency surgery and I never left him. Or the time he injured his back and I drove all night with-out stopping to get him to a specialist out of town. There were no remembrances, no loyalties, and no reciprocities. Adding insult to injury, he denies his brutality to this day. I could have written that line about him. “You left me when I needed you the most”.

11 years have passed. The wind is howling over Lake Wilson as if to say, “I saw the whole thing, I know what he did to you”. The wind validates me this morning. It is howling and moaning fiercely. Yet, its cries also touch the chimes hanging in the now barren branches of the myrtle tree. Now, I find beauty in the branches, and comfort in simplicity. God’s music makers are deep in my heart. The tsunami’s have come and in the wake also comes music. Pure and simple, stripped clean to the life and limb. Removing the rattling dead leaves of life help me hear what is really valuable and lasting; God’s music chimes among the wind.

It’s like when Apostle Paul washed ashore having survived a terrible storm only to have a viper bite him. That line bit me. Like big brother Paul, I too am a survivor. I’ve had to shake off a snake or two. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt, it did, but it didn’t kill me. Actually, it has inoculated me against some rather venomous folks and serves as a reminder; my God stays, heals and makes music with the wind.