Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [109]
They ordered pizza from a small Italian restaurant and downed it like rescued castaways. When asked about the possibility of ice cream for dessert, Michal was about to decline when Sarah added, “Before you make up your mind, you should know it’s chocolate with chocolate chips.”
Michal’s face lit up. “Oh, I can’t turn that down.” She watched Sarah scoop a generous amount into both bowls. “Beth says chocolate’s one of the main food groups.”
“Your roommate is very wise.”
“Aunt Sarah?” By Michal’s tone of voice, Sarah could tell she was wading into a more serious topic again.
“Uh-huh?” She plopped dollops of whipped cream on top.
“About the chapel speaker.”
“Yeah …”
“I’ve been thinking. He also mentioned that all missionaries should be willing to send their kids off to boarding school. And if we weren’t willing to, we weren’t putting Jesus first in our lives. I’m curious what you think about that.”
“How do you feel about it?”
Michal spooned a big bite of ice cream into her mouth, savoring the chocolate. She could tell that Sarah seemed to be following a pattern: allowing Michal to come to her own conclusions. She was grateful for Sarah’s approach—realizing it was challenging her—but Michal also felt the slightest frustration. She just wanted answers.
“Well,” she tried, “boarding school’s not so bad. If I needed to do it for where God’s called me …”
Sarah was ready to put another spoonful in her mouth but stopped, the spoon held in midair. She gave Michal a look full of compassion. “I’ve heard you havin’ nightmares, Michal.” She put down the spoon and took Michal’s hand between her own. “I know it wasn’t easy for you. Does it help to know it was hard for me, too?”
Michal’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “Daddy never said a word … I just assumed … and I’ve never told anyone about …”
“Your dad didn’t have an easy time of it either. None of us did.” She watched as a single tear rolled down each of Michal’s cheeks. “Why haven’t you told anyone of your nightmares, Michal? That’s the only way to take away their power over you—to talk it out with someone. Know why I know that’s true?”
Michal shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
“’Cause I talked with a counselor who helped me work through some difficult times in my life.” She let go of Michal’s hand and reached for her spoon, encouraging Michal to do the same. “I want you to know that I begged Michael and Hannah to bring you back to them. Or to let you come live with me here in the States if they couldn’t …” She let her voice trail off, shaking her head in exasperation.
Astonished, Michal asked, “You did? You actually asked Daddy and Mom that?”
Sarah nodded. “I had to just … let it go. Though I doubled and tripled my prayers for you.”
Michal concentrated on the bowl before her, furiously stirring the ice cream and whipped cream together. “I would’ve loved living with you.”
Sarah grinned. “Just think how much trouble we could’ve gotten into all those years.” Serious again, Sarah added, “It clearly wasn’t meant to be. And though I disagreed with your parents, please hear this—because it is the truth. Your parents love you desperately. They did what they thought was right. Which is what we all do.” She shook her head. “Hindsight wisdom is way too easy. The tormenting ‘I should haves’ can drive you crazy. So you move on. Hopefully learning something along the way.”
“So we don’t make the same mistakes over again? Like me trying to decide who I should date?”
“I know you’ll make the right decision, Michal.” Sarah idly scraped the bottom of her bowl with a finger, getting the very last puddle of melted ice cream. Michal watched with amusement. “You know, sometimes I wonder if God cares more about our process to make a decision than he does the decision itself.” She popped the finger into her mouth. “Unless you have any other deep theological