Sarah’s Saint – V

I pulled the blanket closer and looked outside through the blurriness that only rain-splattered windows could provide. The fireplace crackling in the background felt as soothing as the raindrops on the windowpane. This was a time for cozy blankets, good books, and a hot cup of tea. I watched the leaves dance as they clung to their branches, refusing to let go. Though some had departed, returning to the soil to crumble and offer a warm covering to the roots, the rest remained stoic. They would not fall until the first blizzard, clinging out of desperation to live.

I supposed we are all like those leaves. Wanting to go on, living as long as possible. We cling to so many things, most worldly goods that we cannot take with us. Friendships, family, love – all worth clinging to. Faith, the most important of all, and yet like the leaves some will release their belief, falling into a trap of false promises; lies surrounded tightly in gold wrappers, meant to entice and lure one away.

The world is crumbling around me, and all I can do is watch. Crazy people seem to be ruling the world right now. Thieves, leading by greed and lust, not by love and peace. Not all leaders, though. There are many trying to protect their people from the craziness of the world, precariously balancing on the beams between doing what is right and not angering the rabid dogs lest they turn their eyes towards them.

“It all changes with time.”

“This is not the beach. Why are you here?” I realized what I had said and then added, “in my room.”

“Still not ready to ask the deep and meaningful question yet. That’s okay. Eventually you will. I can wait.” She sat back in the rocker, swaying gently. “I miss these kinds of days. Wet and damp outside, cozy and warm inside.”

“How long have you been…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question. It seemed morbid and too personal.

“Dead? Oh, I don’t know. Time has no relevance in eternity. Less than a lifetime, more than an age, I suppose.”

That was no kind of answer, so I waited to see if she’d continue. When she didn’t, I began pondering what had happened to her. She had already said she wasn’t a ghost, nor an angel, so what then?

“I’m a protector, and a messenger of sorts.”

She smiled as if revealing the greatest secret of all time. “Why would I need a protector, or a messenger? I’m nobody important.”

“Everybody is important to the Father. He loves all his children.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, though. Not really.”

“You are drawing closer to Him. He calls you, though you refuse to fully see it yet.”

She wasn’t wrong. My faith had been growing stronger these last few years. Sometimes it is a natural progression as one ages, but it was more than that for me. My circumstances pushed me forward in my faith. Sorrow, pain, hurt tumbled around in me for years until I finally found a way to release them. The scars remained. Reminders of a time when I was too trusting. Raising my fingers, I traced the line that ran across my cheek.

“It does not define you.”

“I chose wrong.” Somehow I knew I needn’t say more. She knew the whole ugly story. Years of abuse, with all the scars to prove it. Hospital trips and counselling that lead down the road to nowhere. Lost within a system that would, or could not provide help. Prayer had become my grief counsellor. It was the place where I found peace and safety. Forgiveness and love had released my pain until all that remained were the physical scars, or so I thought. Looking at her, I wondered if that was why she was here – to help me heal.

“No, but I will protect you while you do it. Not in a physical sense, though. You don’t need that anymore.”

I looked over at the urn on the mantle. There stood the last remnant of a life of abuse. I didn’t know what to do with them. My first instinct was to flush them down the toilet, but I thought better of it. Looking at her, I knew. I had to release him. It was the final letting go, but where? I looked over our life to find a happier time and place where I might finally put him to rest. Finally, it came to me – the beach. The beach was my solace. Where I was happy and no violence had entered. I smiled, looking over to say what she already knew, but once again she had vanished.

“I’ll be there with you when you decide it’s time,” she whispered from beyond my earthly realm.

I smiled. Curling my feet beneath me, I pulled the blanket closer and closed my eyes. Rainy cold days were meant for sleeping.

If you are enjoying Sarah’s Saint, you may like other short faith stories which you can find on the Faith Stories link of Leslie’s website.