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This proclamation brought the much desired silence at the table.
“The only reason I came back was because I thought you were dead”, her son clarified.
She had wanted silence, but not this kind, because now she could hear thoughts she had successfully buried for years—and these were not righteous thoughts!
She’d given her days to ministry, and had helped bring hope to countless families.
All that time away from home eventually began to tell on her family.
She blamed herself sometimes—a preacher’s kid. Married to a preacher. She would have known better!
But she did do her best.
Even though it seemed like it, she did not intentionally abandon her children while catering to the needs of other families.
And she did come back home to be with them—you’d think that would count for something!
So when this son had left home in his college days and promised not to return home until his parents were dead, they had put it down to youthful delinquency at first.
Then as months turned to years, they were certain it was an attack of the enemy.
They did everything they could to make peace.
They prayed all kinds of prayers.
And when they had learned he was coming home for the yearly thanksgiving gathering they always had as a family, they were grateful for answered prayers.
He came with his wife and children—family they hadn’t seen. Ever.
But things began to turn when he found out his siblings had tricked him, with the help of his wife!
Although he no longer cared that much for family, she didn’t want her children to grow up without family. So she’d reached out to his siblings for help. He had been in touch with them, and she’d met them once or twice.
It might have been an answer to their prayers all these years, but it didn’t look like one he was thankful for.
And she was having a hard time keeping those not-righteous thoughts at bay.
So what if they weren’t the perfect parents!
They were people trying to do the best they could—and that should count for something!
She said a short prayer, and broke the silence “Son you do not have to be here if you don’t want to. You’d be always welcome, and we’d always be praying for you, but if you let those same words out of your mouth again, in the same order, and addressed to any of us, we’d be praying for quick recovery at your hospital bed!”
She didn’t even know what that meant, but no child of hers would disrespect her in her own house because they’ve perceived some form of shortcoming in her.
She was after all, a person trying to find her way, and doing the best she could.
The echoes of “Amen” around the table was like balm to her wounded spirit, and the wide toothed grin of the offending son’s wife was sufficient assurance that God answers prayers—and that she hadn’t gone and lost her own good mind!
Dinner was taking too long!
She had a daughter she needed to catch up with!
∗∗∗∗∗
All he could do in that moment was stare – well, that and try to keep the food from falling from his mouth.
He had joined them at the table without an appetite and now the food had lost its taste, thanks to his wife going and acting like she loved his own mother more than him!
The woman had just promised to send him to the hospital, and his wife was grinning from ear to ear, and playing catch up with her. If he wasn’t married to her, he’d agree with the thought that crossed his mind – she was being silly.
And it didn’t help that everyone else was looking at him like they just found the source of all their problems, after all these years.
This was not how he had envisioned the day going. He knew it was going to be hard coming home after more than two decades, but he didn’t think his wife would jump ship so quickly, and that his siblings would just sit and watch him sink.
It shouldn’t have surprised him though. Hadn’t it always been that way?
When their mother’s work in ministry began to take over their lives, they would complain about situations she exposed the family to, and yet no one would tell her – no one that is, except him – and then he would bear the cost of trying to cause conflict in a peaceful home.
It was the same thing every time – like when she started to bring complete strangers home because they needed a place to stay. It wasn’t very long before they started to lose property. At first it was clothes. Then phones. And then jewelry. By the time their mother came to agree with everyone else that the situation had gotten out of hand, they were already losing food and money.
All the while, his question had been “How do you expose your family this way in the name of ministry?”
She said they needed help.
He said there were other ways to go about it.
Everyone else agreed with him, but no one else would tell mother.
As the years passed he began to consider more and more, the definition of home. Eventually, he decided that home is where you go from the world; home is where you find peace and rest.
And that place was no longer here.
He wouldn’t stand in the way of what she believed was her calling.
But it was not his calling.
So that year while home on break from college, when he overheard his parents arguing again about using their savings for ministry, he had tried to talk to his mother about doing ministry in a way that doesn’t affect your family adversely.
His intention had been to try to get her to reconsider her approach.
She said he was taking sides with his father. And then she’d gone on to remind him about how she had been there for her children while their father spent his days ministering to people at Church. And now they repay her by stifling the vision she had received.
Tempers flew. Harsh words were spoken. And again, nobody else said anything to mother, even though they all sympathized with him. Finally the last straw broke the camel’s back.
When he said he wasn’t going to see his mother again until they met in Heaven, it was a promise he had intended to keep.
And then he was blessed with a wife and children – and his wife wouldn’t stop talking about family.
He told her what they had was enough.
She said she wanted all she could get as she missed having a family, growing up, because she was the child of a teenage mother that ran away from home for fear of what she might face at home, and at church.
Eventually she had been given up for adoption, just before her adoptive parents found out they were expecting. And just like that, she became a bone stuck in their throat.
After the second biological child, she ran away, and kept trying to find a way in this world.
So now she wanted all the family she could get – so much so that she connived with his siblings to deceive him!
And now he was stuck at the table with no appetite, eating food that had lost its taste while his wife played catch up with his mother, and his siblings concur with her plan to send him to the hospital.
Their father, true to his nature, just observed, taking it all in, but doing nothing – the time would come though, when he would call them all to order, but apparently, not today. Maybe next year – or some time before the next decade runs out.
He grabbed his daughter as his phone rang, “We need to leave”, he said.
When his wife sat put and just stared at him, he tried again, “Please get your things and our other child and meet me in the car”.
“But you don’t even know what the call is for, and Mimi was telling me about the time you preached at church when you were five”, she told him.
OK, so now we’re calling her Mimi and she’s telling you that story?
Even his daughter was trying to get away from him, “Mimi said I could colour my face”. What!?!
This was definitely not how he had envisioned the day, but since he was already ambushed, he thought it best to leave them to their vices.
He would drive around for a bit. Maybe take a glass or two of something to help him regain his composure. And then he would come back and take his wife and children home.
As he headed for the car, his father came up to him, “Walk with me son”.
Perplexed beyond measure, all he could do was nod and follow – that next decade had come faster than anyone could have imagined.
*****
They walked in silence for what seemed like both forever, and only a minute; it was hard to tell, and harder still to consider, by reason of the barrage of questions that assailed his mind.
He held his father in high esteem – looked up to him even, and often defaulted to what he believed his father would have him do whenever he was in a fix.
Still, there were those questions that sometimes metamorphosed into accusations. He had nothing against the man. He just wanted to understand why – something that might never happen, since his father apparently had no intention of addressing this situation that had so marked their family, it changed them forever.
If the change was for the better though, only time could tell. And God.
As they rounded a corner, the church came in sight – and at the exact same time the thought had come to his mind that the church was the major reason for all they had dealt with as individuals and as a family – they called it ministry, and every member of the family bore marks of ministry that looked like scars.
He wanted to turn and run away, but he couldn’t do that while walking with his father.
If only he could come up with a good enough excuse that wasn’t a lie….
His mind (again!) failed to come up with a reason better than “I don’t feel well, sir”.
He must have blurted it out before he’d had time to chide his mind for not doing better because his father found some stones, motioned for him to sit with him and said something about how God’s cool breeze in the evening was good for your mind and your body.
It didn’t make very much sense. Hardly anything did these days – or all those years for that matter.
Plus, his mind must be feeling like a cranky toddler today, because before he’d had time to really consider it, he heard himself ask his father why.
“Why did you let it happen?”
As he sat down next to his father, some of those questions that had assailed his mind for years found their way out.
Hope that had burned out to mere flickering was fanned again – probably by God’s cool breeze this evening. Or just by realizing that there was the possibility that today could be the day his father would help him make sense of this mark they had borne all these years.
“You could have stopped it”, he told his father, “helped her see how she was doing it wrong, but you let it happen until it broke the family. Why?”
Receiving no answers, he followed his father’s line of gaze to see what held his interest. Nothing.
Nothing that he could see, at least.
Maybe today was not the day he had been waiting for.
He would give it a few more minutes – out of respect for his father – and then he would be gone for good this time.
His wife could enlist all the help she could get, but there was no way she was getting him back here again.
Just when he decided he had given it enough time, his father got up, and began to walk towards the church. Realizing he was walking alone, he turned and asked, “Are you coming or not?”
It was supposed to be a question, but it sounded like a command, so much so that it got his mind confused, and he heard himself say, “Yes sir!”
There was still a sense of foreboding though.
It’s not like he didn’t believe in God anymore. He fancied himself a wounded soldier who had retreated, and he wasn’t sure he was fully recovered yet.
And the sight of the church he had grown up in brought back memories that made him want to run away – or at least hide behind his father – something he had been doing for as long as he could remember.
At first it was missing Bible study and youth group meetings. Then it was getting permission from his father with bogus excuses, to travel for whole months.
At some point it had to be obvious he was trying to stay away from church, and from home – why did his father let him?
He was relieved to find the premises almost empty when they got to the church, and he was especially grateful he didn’t know the few people present. If he had to face one of the deacons from when he was a boy, and come under their spotlight, he might break down irreparably.
They went to his father’s office.
He retrieved a box of letters and brought out one.
Before handing the letter to his son, he led them in a short prayer.
Maybe today was indeed the day he had been waiting for all these years….
Because he could recognize that letter even in his sleep.
He could recognize it because he wrote it.
And the blood stains on the envelope were his own blood….
He was thirsty, in need of air, and feeling faint.
Plus a lot of prayers would help too.
“This, son”, his father told him, “is the beginning of the journey you should be on”.
He put his hand on his shoulder, “Remember this day like you should, and you might begin to find the answers you seek”.
He remembered….
He remembered that day well, and now the envelope not only had his blood on it, but his tears also….
He had written that letter in anger. Now, more than two decades later, he held it in remorse.
His father was right – he needed to retrace his steps and set out on the right journey if he would ever find the answers he was seeking.
“I don’t know what to do”, it was barely a whisper, but his father was there. He heard him, and gave the same counsel he had given for years –
“Just ask”.
This time it made perfect sense and he knew exactly where to begin.
“Would you walk with me?” he asked his father.
His father smiled, “I’ve been waiting for years, son”.
*****
Something was out of place somewhere in his mind, or he wouldn’t be comprehending the showers as heaven crying for him.
And the fact that there had been no indication of rain even five minutes earlier only cemented the notion in his mind. It was useless to try to remind himself that he’d lived in that area nearly all his life, and that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the weather to turn suddenly, without warning ─ even in a person’s life. Or a family.
Just look what happened to them.
The church secretary said they would go in his car because she didn’t like driving in the rain.
That brought the plan forming in his mind to an abrupt stop. Although the pull to know the truth was strong, he was also seriously concerned about the effect and impact it would have on his already disarrayed life. So by the time they got to his car, he had already decided to drive away and never return, unless God sent him a sign.
OK, so she no longer liked driving in the rain ─ but he had never liked driving with her! It’s like car rides turned her into another person ─ the lady never stopped talking, and mostly about what you had no idea about!
That was not the sign he had in mind when he asked the Lord for a sign. The lightning and thunder that split the skies in that moment erased whatever objections still remained in his mind ─ these were no ordinary showers. Heaven was weeping for him.
He regarded her for only a brief instant, trying to decide on a course of action, and realized his mistake almost immediately. He couldn’t leave her in the rain and just drive away ─ this woman who had been there when no one else was. Plus, for the first time, he noticed how frail and tired she looked.
As he got in the car, he sent a desperate cry for help to heaven, “Please Lord, help!”
He had no idea what the help would look like, because as soon as he began to drive, she went off, talking mostly about what he had no idea about.
And then he got out of the car, only to meet his mother in the house! Nobody said anything about that turn of events ─ the weather had turned for him, suddenly and without warning.
How was that even possible, after all that had already happened!
When he left the house the previous day, the one thing he was certain of was that until the situation was fixed to a certain level of clarity, he wasn’t coming in the presence of his mother.
Apparently, they both met weekly to pray. And they were meeting today ─ a fact the secretary had conveniently forgotten to tell him. Either that, or she truly wasn’t aware they had been that long at the church and time was already far spent.
He excused himself, promising to come back another time, but they said the weather was too bad to drive in.
They did have a point, but what did they expect him to do? Join them in their prayers? “Lord, please help! Really!”
As the showers continued to pour and more heavily, he wondered how much trouble he was in to warrant that much weeping. He didn’t have to wonder for too long though after they cut off the electricity and his mother began to light candles and arrange chairs for three people. There was just two of them, and except they were expecting another person ─ which was very unlikely, considering the weather ─ his mother expected him to join them.
That was a problem.
That was a big part of what was wrong with this whole situation.
You know how they say ‘mother always knows best’? ─ well, that is a problem! From where he stood, at least.
Was it too much to expect that she’d at least ask if he wanted to join them, before setting up chairs and lighting candles for him?
She always knew best, and look where it landed them as family!
“Why are you even here?” he heard himself blurt out before he had time to rein his rising rage in.
“You might hate me”, she told him, “but I have a prayer meeting with the Lord and my sister, and you won’t take this time from me”.
“Hate you?” What was she talking about! He didn’t hate her. He just wanted answers. He told her so, but probably not with the right words because she screamed her next words at him ─
“Then sit, or get out”, she told him, “For once in your life, make it easy for us and make a choice!”
Then she stomped to the kitchen and began to rummage through cupboards, slamming the doors with too much fervor than was absolutely necessary.
It didn’t make any sense. Why was his mother in this woman’s kitchen, rummaging through her cupboards and slamming the doors? After everything that had already happened, how is this possible?
The church secretary who had been standing by quietly the whole time, probably praying ─ because those mutterings could not have been incantations ─ motioned for him to sit down.
He regarded the seat she had pointed to like it was the thing that would finally unravel whatever was left of his life. The other alternative was to leave. And he was seriously considering it.
The rain had eased up. He needed to get back to the office, and especially in touch with his wife who might be worried sick by now. And he still didn’t have that much clarity to be in the presence of his mother. Plus, who knew what she was up to in that kitchen still banging cupboard doors!
When he didn’t take the seat, the secretary got up and started to leave for the kitchen, but not before she told him, “Listen to your mother and make up your mind”.
That did it! He was tired of being told to ‘Listen to your mother’ every time. He was going home, picking up the pieces and starting over. This time, not even his wife could bring him back here. And he would do his best to not think of his father.
As he turned to leave, the secretary told him, “You blame her for everything but you forget that most women would do what they can to save their marriage if they thought it was threatened”.
He was lost and did not even try to hide the fact.
“Ask your wife when you get home”, she told him and walked away.
“Ask her what?” No response.
“Ask her what?”
He could go to the kitchen to find out, or he could walk out of the house and continue with the plan to start over.
The pull on both ends was so strong, he could physically feel the final pieces of his life coming apart.
Leaning on the door, he sent up one more cry for help, “So is the help coming? Please Lord!”
*****
All his efforts and good intentions despite, it seemed like his mother just pushed his buttons the wrong way every time. He could never find the strength to not break out in a combustible fit of rage. And it didn’t even matter all that much what the subject was. They could be talking about what to have for breakfast, world hunger or politics. It always ended the same way.
But there was still that pull to know what they wanted to tell him.
The women were in the kitchen now, so there was no one else around to help him decide.
He sent one more cry to heaven, and then not wanting to give himself time to consider the option he was most at peace with, he hurried to his car.
He could live without the knowledge of what they wanted to tell him. And he would.
He would destroy the blood stained letter, and do his best to not let the past affect him as much as it had. It had too much hold on him, and to his mind, enough was enough already!
He was not in a hurry to get home, so he took the longer route, “to get fresh air”, he tried to convince himself, but it was hard to buy the lie he was selling.
After a while driving, but going nowhere in particular, he pulled over to the side of the road. He sat in the parked car for what seemed like a few hours… maybe more, or less. It was hard to tell.
And then from nowhere ―
Ask your wife when you get home. The thought was annoying. He had no intentions of continuing the journey he had been on all these years. He had drawn a line in the sand, and there was no going back.
Most women would do what they can to save their marriage if they thought it was threatened.
He decided he had sat in the car for too long, since his mind was starting to play games with him.
He turned his phone on and called his wife. She was crying and trying to say too many words at the same time.
When he had the chance to add to the conversation, he said he was on his way home, but she said it was too far.
“Too far from what?”
“Didn’t you hear anything I said?”
She proceeded to chide him for all the anxiety and worry he had caused them. Her friend was helping her watch the children, and she was on her way already.
When she asked where he was, he looked around and realized he had no idea where he was.
Getting no response, she tried again, “I already booked a taxi. I could meet you where you are to save time. He’s already at the hospital”.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just tell me where you are, and stop with this family issues nonsense!” She was trying, but not doing very well at controlling her voice, “Your father needs a miracle. Start praying and tell me where you are.”
“Let me call you back”.
She screamed her reply, “Do not hang up on ―”.
Help me Lord! Please!
He drove around for a bit and finally recognized a building in the distance.
Then he called his wife back. Her phone was switched off.
After the third time trying, he started to get worried. It was unlike her, no matter how angry she was with him.
He called his brother. No response.
He couldn’t get through to his sister.
Wild thoughts began to run through his mind, and before long his hands were shaking.
He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. It didn’t help all that much.
He turned the radio on. That wasn’t very helpful, either. He wasn’t interested in choosing between depressing news stories or really bad music.
Even his favourite playlist didn’t help.
Finally, he abandoned the car and took a taxi back to where he was coming from.
He ignored the taxi driver when he tried to make small talk. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted the day to end.
He only realized his rudeness when he got to his destination and realized he had left his wallet in his car. When the driver offered to come back later for the money, something broke inside him. And just like that, everything he had been holding in made their way out as body-jerking, bitter tears.
The driver, an older man waited for him to recollect himself, and then he asked if he could pray with him.
Surprised, but relieved by the kindness, he nodded.
As the taxi drove off, he wondered if heaven had begun to send help, beginning with an angel in the form of a taxi driver.
*****
If his father was at the hospital, he knew exactly which one it was…. It was a small town, after all.
As he stood on the sidewalk staring at the building, trying to will himself to go in, he noticed people coming and going. Some with joy, others with sadness.
He found himself wondering what was going through their minds ― especially the sad ones. Were there any regrets? Things they might have done differently, perhaps?
A taxi pulled in, and his wife ran up to him. It was a relief to find out that he had been unable to reach her because her phone battery had run down, not because she was that angry with him.
When she found out he’d been standing there a while and hadn’t gone inside, she left him there and ran inside. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is”, she told him as she left.
He hurried to catch up.
Inside, they found the room where his father was. It had been a false alarm. He would be OK. He only needed to slow down a bit and rest more.
Heaven was definitely looking down with mercy!
They were allowed to go home that night.
At the house, as they talked and laughed about what had happened, he realized how close he had come to losing his father… and his family.
His wife was right, it was time to stop with this family issues nonsense! No family was without challenges. Those who make it work are those who put the needed effort. Family is after all, made up of people ― imperfect, fallible people.
His father had been right too ―
He had allowed anger take up too much space in his mind that he couldn’t see past the realities anger showed him. He should not have written those words to his father. Remembering that day like he should, he could see now that had he been doing the right thing, he would have been in school, not sealing a letter with his blood.
With this new perspective, it was hard to believe the view he held of his mother. Had she really treated the church secretary the way he had believed this whole time?
He did not want to stand at the end of life and wonder what he might have done differently.
He would apologize to his family and do his best to learn again, what family is.
He had drawn a line in the sand earlier, but it was the wrong line. This time he was determined to no longer let the enemy use his mind as a playground.
He might not have all the answers he wants, but as long as they were doing the best they could, it was unfair to ask for more from them.
Sleep was easy to come that night, for the first time in a really long while.
*****
In the morning, he shared his newfound insight and apologized to his family.
To say they were shocked would be putting it mildly.
Prayers of gratitude and fellowship followed. It was surprising to see how differently everyone remembered incidents that had significantly marked them as a family.
Before they left, his mother handed him an old diary, “It might help you see my side of the story”.
He regarded the diary for a while and shook his head. He told her they were passed that stage and the goal now was reclaiming lost time.
His wife took the diary, “Thanks Mimi”. She turned to her husband who looked ready to run from the diary, “What? It’s just a diary. It would help us see her side of the story”.
His sister was not being thoughtful about his situation at all. He endured solid teasing on account of his apparent dread of a woman’s old diary.
“That is not the situation at all”, he told her.
Any defense on his part was useless. Their minds were already made up.
Because he had left his car, they were to ride with this same sister. He could only imagine what the journey would be like.
The thought came to him to ask his mother if she had any idea what the church secretary had wanted to tell him. He asked the question quickly before he changed his mind, and then immediately added, “On second thought, don’t answer that. It doesn’t even matter anymore”.
“Maybe it’s in the diary”, his sister said.
He looked to his wife for help. She shrugged, “You never know”.
She and her sister-in-law began to giggle like school girls at her husband’s expense.
His brother had already left. His parents made a quick escape and left him to his fate with the giggling girls and a woman’s old diary.
This was a problem…. One he was happy to face.
Heaven was definitely smiling on this family!
Bio
Boma Somiari believes that life is a gift, and that we have a duty to be responsible with this gift. She blogs at theapriljournal.com where she hopes to encourage her readers to continue to carry out this duty.
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