Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [117]
The two of them never developed what felt like normal and easy communication patterns—at least, not from Michal’s vantage point. Instead, they shared an awkward and disjointed “How’s it going?” … “Got a quiz tomorrow in New Testament” … “Chapel was so amazing today” communication style. More like a DVD when there’s a problem with the disk: The scene’s interrupted, and the digital picture breaks up into spastic squares. Michal’s attempts at communicating with Stephen left her feeling exactly the same way. Jolted and interrupted, spastic even. And frustrated.
She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was missing something—but not like losing an object. It was more like someone abruptly changing the subject with no transition, jumping to another topic so quickly she was left feeling puzzled, wondering, What? What are you saying? Or when a book’s missing a page, so the storyline doesn’t fit together. So she’d argue and reason with herself, trying to banish the confusing, negative feelings. Listing reasons why God had worked it out this way, seeking proof of order and logic to her life. Ultimately, that it was right to be seeing Stephen.
But always there was the problem of Stephen’s kisses—the confusing feelings they aroused. Stephen assured her repeatedly that he prayed about the two of them: about his need to learn to be intimate, how Michal was helping him. That God was answering his prayers for closeness. According to Stephen, their kissing was actually spiritual in nature.
Michal’s thoughts and feelings on the matter, however, were pure bedlam. Do I really like him kissing me? she’d ask herself, walking back to her room, reaching up to aggressively wipe away any evidence of their intimacy. Why do I feel flattered and fluttery inside, and yet repulsed at the same time?
When idle thoughts about Allistair clouded her mind, she’d fall into a pattern of quizzing herself. Are you only missing Allistair because you want what you don’t have—because he’s the one that got away? Focus on Stephen; work harder on your relationship with him. God’s showing you his will. Like Aunt Sarah said, remember those influencing your life in your peripheral vision. And Stephen’s the most prominent one there right now.
On Good Friday, Michal repeatedly asked God to forgive her. For not concentrating on her studies like she should. For not keeping her vow to be singularly focused on getting her degree so she could get back to Ethiopia as soon as possible. And finally, for her disloyalty to Beth, since they’d pledged to each other they would not get seriously involved with anyone—since that would take too much time from their studies. By Easter Sunday morning, Michal was so overwhelmed with guilt that she resolved, Okay, no more Stephen. No more thinking about Allistair either. I’m totally done with this entire mess.
The resolution lasted until Stephen smiled at her on Monday afternoon.
Weeks passed. Nearly every day Michal talked with Stephen—or rather, attempted to. Their conversations evolved into one-sided affairs consisting mostly of Stephen’s solicitous attempts to teach her, as he would point out applications she should apply to her life. Lessons learned from chapel speakers, professors, and Stephen himself. Michal would nod. And agree, judging it was God’s way of teaching her to submit.
The nighttime calls came regularly, announcing, “Someone to see you in the lounge.” Her heart beating, sometimes she’d still naively hope it might be Allistair. Finding instead that it was always Stephen. They’d have another awkward, halting conversation. Another kiss combined with a “God’s really blessing our intimacy, Michal” sort of comment before he’d bolt out the door, leaving her feeling a little emptier each time. With a vague longing for something she couldn’t describe or put a name to.
Though Michal was puzzled why she