Part 7 (1/2)

Almost immediately a verse came to mind ... his life verse, really. Psalm 73:26.

The one that had always come to him whenever he reached the end of himself, when his need for a Savior

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was greatest of all: My flesh and my heart may ail, but G.o.d is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

John repeated the words again and again, letting the meaning wash over him. ”I understand.” He whispered the words as a tear made its way down the day's growth of beard on his face. ”I can't do anything this time. You will be the strength-not just of my heart, but of Kari's also.”

Though John was prepared to spend more time in prayer, he felt a sudden urgency to go home. He stood and glanced at his schedule. It was his light day, and his patients were scheduled only until two o'clock that afternoon. He picked up the phone and within minutes had the appointments covered. Then he left the office and headed for his car, begging G.o.d that whatever had happened between Kari and Tim, they could overcome it as a couple.

Kari was sure she had gained her composure by the time she walked in the door of the Baxter home at nine-thirty that morning. But the moment she felt her mother's arms around her, the sobs that had gradually subsided rose again and spilled over. ”Mom . . . you won't . . . believe it. . . .” Deep, gut-wrenching convulsions pummeled her body, doubling her over and causing her to gasp for breath. Help me, G.o.d, I'm losing control.

”Kari-” Her mother's voice was sharp, loud, as it had been when Kari was a small girl and had gotten in trouble for something. ”It's okay. Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

No, it's not okay. I won't get through it . . . not ever. The sobs continued, and between breaths she caught sight of her mother's pale face.I'm . sorry. ...

I can't. . . help it.”

Finally her mother led her gently by the arm into the front room, which was just off the foyer. As they sat on the old flowered sofa, Kari felt the slightest bit of calm come over her. Help me, Lord. ... I can't breathe.

Don't be afraid. ... I am with you.

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Kari exhaled, and the sense of panic eased some. In its place was a nausea that she knew could be resolved only one way. ”Wait . . .” She darted through the house and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

Her stomach convulsed again and again as she lost the small amount of food she'd eaten that morning. When she was finished, she felt worse, not better, and more tears coursed down her face. She was sick of crying, but she couldn't stop.

She rinsed out her mouth, clutched her sides, and made her way slowly back to the front room.

Both her parents were waiting for her. Her father must have had someone take over his patients for the day. Typical. He had left work early other times, too, for one family crisis or another. It was his way of letting them know they always came first with him.

Her father stood to meet her. ”Kari.” She raised her eyes to his and saw that his face was lined with concern. He held his arms out toward her, and Kari went to him, needing his touch, yet racked with guilt for upsetting her parents. I shouldn't be here. It's not their problem.

Her father's silent rea.s.surance was so strong that for the first time Kari had a sense she would survive. She allowed herself to be lost in her daddy's arms, sobbing as if she might never stop. This time, though, the hysteria was gone. In its place was a sadness deeper than a canyon.

”It's okay, honey.” Her mother reached up and took Kari's hand. ”You go ahead and cry. We're here . . . whenever you're ready to talk.”

Kari cried for another few minutes and then eased herself down beside her mother as her father took the closest chair. Kari studied the floral pattern on the cus.h.i.+on near her knee and could think of no easy way to begin. It had been two days since she took the call that changed her life, and she hadn't told anyone yet, hadn't spoken of Tim's betrayal out loud. As if by keeping the truth inside, she could convince some part of her that it hadn't happened.

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Her cheeks grew hot, and she felt deeply embarra.s.sed by what she was about to say. No matter that the crisis was Tim's fault-she was the one who hadn't been able to keep him happy- And she was the one who had staked her entire life on the belief that her husband's faith was strong, his commitment to her deeply sincere.

She was a failure at the one thing she had prayed might never fail.

Kari lifted her head and saw her pain reflected in the eyes of her parents. The two of them waited, their faces expectant. ”Tim and I talked last night.” She could find no easy way to say it. ”He doesn't want to be married anymore. He ...

he moved out.”

Her head dropped, and sorrow choked off her words. Instantly her father moved over to join them on the sofa. She felt her parents' hands on her shoulders and savored the way they made her feel safe and protected. ”It's okay, honey.” Dad's voice was low, the way it had been whenever he had comforted her as a child.

”We'll get through this.”

Kari silently prayed for strength, and after a minute she looked up. ”He's in love with another woman.”

”Oh no, baby.” Her mother's hand fell from Kari's shoulder, and she leaned in closer. ”How long? I mean, what happened?”

A sigh slipped from between Kari's lips. ”He's been seeing her about two months, I think.” Her voice sounded dead, as if she'd reached her limit on feeling hurt and devastated and had let an unfeeling robot carry on in her place. ”She's a student. It's been going on since the beginning of the semester. Or maybe longer-I don't know.”

”Dear G.o.d ...” For a few moments her mother covered her face with her hands.

In all her life, Kari had never seen her father look so helpless. Her every memory of him was marked by sure smiles and his confident way of handling whatever life threw at them. But those images stood in stark contrast to the man sitting near her now,

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his face pale, his shoulders slightly stooped as if he'd be< blindsided=”” and=”” hadn't=”” yet=””>

”Kari, honey . . .” He made a slight shaking motion with head, and she noticed that his eyes were glazed over. ”I nevi would have thought...”

The nausea was back, but Kari held it at bay. Get me through this, G.o.d, please.

A verse came to mind, one that had comforted Kari before, was the shortest verse in the Bible: Jesus wept. If he cried over Jerusalem, if he cried over the death of Lazarus, surely he was crying now over the death of her dreams, the death of her marriage.