God’s Cathedral :: Chapter Five

I wake up Monday morning and realize I’m tired of worrying about Austin. It’s time to give up. I think. He’s my past and not coming back to whisk me away like some idealistic chick flick. He wasn’t even a good boyfriend; why do I care to hold on to him? He was rude and mean. He rarely made time for me and always left me in doubt. I hate to admit it but my self-esteem has been destroyed and I was never happy around him. SO WHY DO I MISS HIM? The great mystery of life – boys treat girls like crap and we would do anything for them.

Can I do this?

YES! I grab my robe and wrap myself up in it. I can figure out how to get out of this mess…but first I need coffee.

I stumble around the kitchen trying to set up the coffee machine. I work my way around the roomie’s mess. How did I get stuck with these slobs? Every year I promise myself to find other girls to room with and every year I am unsuccessful and go pot luck.

I’ve never had many girlfriends. The reason why plagued me for years…until my senior year of high school. When I would cry in my mother’s arms over another friendship lost or mean comment, my mom would always tell me the same thing: “It’s because you are beautiful and wealthy. The other girls are jealous and so they hate you.” It was little comfort; I never believed it anyway. Until I decided to experiment a bit. I paid attention to the way people reacted around me. I mean I was always cheerful and accommodating so I didn’t understand why the girls seemed to be annoyed by my presence. But as I began to pay attention I finally noticed the male attention. I finally noticed the frustrated looks from the other girls. I finally got it.

I knew what to do.

My last year of high school I arrived at class dressed in baggy clothes, no make up, sloppy hair. I had even gained a bit of weight. My mom was horrified. Everyone thought it was a joke. Some girls must have thought it was a new fashion trend because a few girls started to dress the same way. My mom warned me I’d never get married if this continued, but I ignored her comments and continued on with my experiment.

Soon people got used to it and took me seriously. Soon I had some girlfriends…and no male attention. I finally realized exactly what the world was like. And it was fairly crushing. I realized that people really do judge by outward appearance and that jealousy can be a ruinous thing. I lost a bit of innocence that day.

But, much to my excitement, I finally had a group of friends. I also stopped obsessing over my appearance. The pressure was off and I was finally happy.

Until College.

My mother insisted I join a sorority and only the best would do. I have never really been one to rebel so I lost the weight and rediscovered the joys of the superficial world. New designer clothes were bought and worn, the make up, re-applied. I got into the top sorority. It helped that I was a legacy and thus pretty much guaranteed acceptance. My mom was happy.

College brought on a whole new social life for me – frat parties. I went, laughed, drank, enjoyed myself. And that is when I met Austin. He was the typical cliché — tall, dark, and handsome. He was frat boy with a guilty conscience. Every Thursday through Saturday he would drink. And every Sunday he would drag himself out of bed and attend church. It was easy to convince myself he was a great Christian guy. His “dedication” was an obvious testament. It helped that we happened to attend the same church. It seemed like fate.

Everyone thought we were the perfect pair.

Soon I found a sense of security with Austin. I enjoyed his friends and found more female friendships. Janna seemed to have a similar situation as me – she had better luck making “friends” with guys than girls. In my security I slacked off. I felt safe once more in my tee shirts and baggy jeans, no make up. Austin said it added to my charm, but quickly mentioned that I couldn’t dress like that if we were going out. Then I needed to be the stereotypical sorority girl. Perfect. Fashionable. Shallow.

The blow came when I started to gain weight. The drinking and partying began to take its toll. I realize know that my disappointment in my weight added a new level of emotional eating. I gained fifteen pounds.

Things with Austin then started to slide.

The comments about working out and eating less reminded me of my mother. He chipped away at myself esteem. The more I attempted to please him the worse I felt. I gained ten more pounds.

He dumped me.

Another bit of innocence lost. As I laid in my closet crying after he dumped me I remember that day I stood in the high school hallway. I remembered the day that I realized guys only wanted me for my looks and that girls hated me because of it.

I think that is when I lost interest — in people, in my sorority, in going out. I stopped hanging out with my girlfriends. I knew they were talking about me and Austin. Blaming me for my failure. They acted sympathetic but in reality they were planning on taking my spot. Austin was a popular guy — president of his fraternity.

Janna was there for me, but I knew better than to trust her. She was a jealous girl and would be the first to ditch me if she thought it would help her in some way. She’s the kind of girl who only talks to other beautiful girls; it’s a strategy for attracting guys. It’s all about politics. If you want to be considered part of the beautiful crowd you have to surround yourself with a beautiful crowd.

These so-called tragic events left me in my current state — without a boyfriend and without girl friends.

Soon the coffee starts to untangle my brain. I curl up in bed and take my journal from the small ledge on my window. At the top of the first clean page I write the date and the words:

Plan to forget Austin. Then I start my list.

Don’t read old journals (I guess I’ll have to get a new one after this).
Avoid “our places”
Avoid our songs
Avoid his friends
DO NOT look at his facebook page
Remove his number from phone
Put away all things that remind me of him

I scan my list and smile. Sounds easy enough. I start to scan the room. Slowly pictures disappear from their frames and there is cork showing on my once covered bulletin board. I grab an empty shoe box from under my bed and start to fill them with the old photos. Next up, jewelry. I pull necklaces, rings, and so forth from my closet and drop them on the photos. Now for the larger items. Trash bag in hand I shove books, a china dish, a drawing pencil set, a few shirts, a sorority pillow he gave me. I tie up the bag and stuff it with the shoe box up into the highest shelf in my small dorm closet. I have one item left — a framed, signed poster of my favorite band which he gave me for Christmas. I decide that they can stay. No use stripping my room of all signs of life over a plan to forget someone. We’ll see how it goes. I think the countless images of his face being ripped from the walls is pretty good for now.

I picked up my phone and deleted him from the contacts list. On my computer, he disappeared from my chat contacts.

Everything gone and put away, I stand in my room. It does feel empty and cold, undecorated. I realize I will have to make a trip to Target and get something to put in place of my memories. Or maybe I’ll just leave it alone and wait for the new memories to be created and find a spot on my wall.

I can’t believe it took me a year to do this. I feel light. Happier than I have in months. Full of satisfaction I sit down at my desk. It wasn’t hard to remove the photos and put them up. But I still had one more thing to do. And this would be hard.

I pull a decorated box from the shelf in front of me. I peek in at the notes and copies of emails printed out and folded up in the box. Letters from Austin. They have to go completely, be destroyed. I don’t need his false sentiments hiding in my closet where I can get to them easily. I take the box into the bathroom with a pack of matches and a candle. I float the candle in some water and light it.

One by one the notes are read, then burned in the tub. As I read the notes for the last time my heart  broke all over again. I savored the little handwritten encouragements and love notes remembering that for a little while we did seem to be in love. He had a great romantic sense about him, but in the end that’s not what really keeps a relationship together. I had thought I wanted some poet to sweep me off my feet, but this poet turned out to be a fraud. Little notes cannot build a relationship if there is nothing real for it to be based on in the first place.

Half way through the readings I realize I’m only torturing myself. I take a handful of cards and hold them over the candle. I pull the drain plug and watch the ashes and bits of paper circle, then get sucked down.

I sigh and lean back, wiping tears from my cheeks with the palm of my hand. Now I can move on.

Do you really think you can?

A dark feeling envelops me and I shiver. Can I really let go? Is it that easy — just hid away the evidence and forget about it? Will my memories follow the bits of ash down the drain? Maybe. Maybe not.

I can do this! I jump up and  leave the darkness on the floor below me. I leave the bathroom and pull the door shut hard, hoping to keep the hurt and pain trapped in there for awhile. My clock informs me that class is almost over. Too late to do anything about it now, I get back in bed. The sheets have grown cold — a welcomed feeling in the heat seems to cling to the walls despite the AC’s best efforts. The other girls constantly complain that it is so cold but I all seem to feel is the stale heat, everywhere, choking me.

Suddenly the darkness is back. I pull the comforter up over my head and wiggle down into the down pillow top. It gets worse. I feel like I am falling and I am unable to grab hold of anything to stop me. Falling through my bed as if a black whole has opened up below it. Desperately, I throw the covers off of me. The empty room screams to me of Austin. I have to get out.

I dress and pick up my keys. Where to go? This whole town is crawling with memories. I notice my bible and suddenly I realize exactly what I should do.

Ten minutes later I turn off my car in the church parking lot. I have no idea if anyone is here or if it is even OK for me to do bust in on the pastor, but this is an emergency. Bible in hand I walk into the Narthex and knock on Pastor Lawson’s office door.

“Come in!” I hear a voice, muffled, through the door. I push it open and walk in. Thomas seems just as shocked to see me, as I am to see him.

“Sapphira! What are you doing here?” He stands quickly, almost knocking over his chair. He turns and grabs the back of the chair to keep if from falling over. “When you didn’t show up for class, I thought you might be sick. Is everything OK?”

“No…yes…ah, you were in class today?” Change the subject.

“Yeah, I told you I would be there when I got the chance.” He smiles, not just with his mouth, but with his whole face. I need to get out of here.

“Where’s Pastor?” I edge my way out of the office and back into the hall. He follows me.

“He got called away and asked me to be here in case anyone showed up. Can I help you with something?”

“Um, well…” I look back at the door leading out of the building. My escape. I look back at him. He’s a pastor-in-training and yes, he can help me, but I don’t really want to talk about Austin with him. A hot pain rises right under my ribcage. If he knew about Austin, Thomas would think I am tainted. Would he run the other way from now on? Would he think I was broken, unworthy of friendship? Why do I care what he thinks! My mind is racing and my thoughts pulling me different ways. Trust him. FINE! “I guess.”

“Then why don’t you take a seat,” he sweeps his arm back towards the office, “and tell me what’s bothering you.”

His shoulders rise slightly and his cheeks redden. “Wow, that sounded like a stuffy old pastor.”

“Yeah, but that’s OK.” I smile a bit, he seems nervous, but I can’t imagine why. He’s not the one about to reveal his insane past and start babbling like a psych patient. I take one of the old leather chairs that face his desk. To my surprise Thomas takes the other one.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you? The desk makes me feel pretentious.”

“Not at all,” I lie. I don’t want him this close. I’d rather him be the cool, judgmental pastor figure baring down on me from the other side of the pretentious desk. Next to me he seems like a friend. But don’t I want that? I don’t seem to know. I furrow my brow and stare at a rustic cross nailed on the wall.

It’s silent for a good thirty seconds. I turn my Bible over in my hands. I look at Thomas. He seems to think I’m just going to blurt out whatever is on my mind. I’m hesitant. Maybe he knows that. I mean, he is supposed to be trained in this. He looks confused, maybe a bit frustrated. I start to open my mouth, but he beats me to it.

“Um, so what’s bothering you?”

I sigh and it feels as if that hotness in my ribs spreads through my whole chest and back. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just start with the beginning.” He smiles. I laugh nervously.

“I guess that’s a good way to start.” Here goes. “Um, about a year ago a guy dumped me. I though we would get married. Honestly, I am not sure why I thought that, but I did. I guess I was naive. Anyway, I have been unable to, um, unable to get past it.”

I look up at him. He’s not wearing the look of bored disgust I expected. Instead he has leaned closer to me. The hotness dissipates from my chest and back. “This morning I woke up determined to forget him. I got rid of all the stuff that made me think of him. I burned our old letters and boxed up everything else, which I sealed and put away in my closet. I felt wonderful for a few moments, but then…”

I hesitate to tell him about the darkness. I feel my muscles tense.

“Then what?” He leans a bit closer, his eyes search my face. I turn back to my hands that are playing with the ribbon bookmark sticking out of my bible.

“Then the darkness crept in. I tried to sleep or something to avoid it but it only got worse so I came here hoping to find Pastor.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. You are trained to do exactly what he does.”

“Ha. Some people don’t think I’m quite ready to deal with anything because I am young and inexperienced. In a way they are right, but I am glad that doesn’t scare you. I might not be completely trained yet, but I do enjoy helping people and I have had more experience than people realize.”

“What made you want to become a pastor?”

“I didn’t always want to be one. I hated church as a kid. My parents were leaders and I just felt like I didn’t quite fit in. I had a hard time accepting the Bible as truth and I argued a lot with the other kids in our bible studies. This didn’t help me make friends. When I started to hang out with a crowd my parents didn’t approve of they forced me to go to the church’s school. This made me want to reject God even more. I thought that He was a mean, pushy, brat of a god and found pleasure in punishing me. In reality, God loves us and wants to heap blessings on us, I just could not see that. I got more rebellious and angry.

“This changed when I met a girl at my new high school. We started dating. She was the ‘perfect Christian teen’. She was cute and modest; smart, but not a genius. She wanted to be a mom one day. Anyway, I am not sure what she saw in me. I was after her for the same reasons most guys go after girls. She put up with my rejection of Christ for a few months. I don’t know why she stuck with me. Maybe she saw some sort of potential, and honestly I am glad she did. Looking back, she was missionary dating which is rarely a good idea, but I guess God had a plan. After about six months of dating, something within me changed. God gave me faith and a deep love for Him and His Word. While Elizabeth didn’t make me believe, I do know she had a strong part in my return to faith. She was very encouraging and patient.”

“Are y’all still together?” I flushed a bit at my obvious question.

“No. We broke up shortly after we went to college. We ended up in separate states – me in Minnesota and she, Alabama. After months of phone calls we both decided that the long distance thing was too distracting. We needed to be free to focus on our education. At first, I thought it was stupid for us to break up. In my opinion, if we had loved each other we could make it work and breaking up was not a wise decisions. But as always, God was smarter than me and he knew what he was doing. Eliza is now married to a wonderful guy she met in Alabama. In fact, I just got an email from her this week. She’s pregnant with her first child.”

“Wow. Does that make you jealous or upset?”

“No. I don’t love her that way any more. She is my sister in Christ and that’s it. I am happy for her and wish her the best; there are no hard feelings between us. Also, time does make a difference and we broke up almost 6 years ago.”

“That’ nice.” I shift in my seat. ” It’s been a few weeks since I last saw Austin. He actually goes to church here, so you will meet him in the fall.”

“How do you feel about that? I mean, that he goes to church here.”

“It was really hard at first, but I guess by the end of this year I was doing fine. It has just been about a year since he dumped me.”

“Would it help for you to tell me about the whole situation?”

“It wouldn’t hurt I guess.” I tell Thomas how Austin and I met, his treatment of me, and how he dumped me. The further on in the story I go, the more awkward Thomas becomes. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this is stirring up old feelings in him. His eyebrows move towards each other as he looks at me, and yet, it seems for a moment or two that he is looking through me. After I finish the story, he leans back quickly, an intense look on his face.

“Austin was not acting like your brother in Christ. It seems that he might have some issues to work through.” His voice is oddly gruff. “But since I can’t deal with him… I mean help him… and you are here with your concerns….we’ll focus on what you need.”

The whole mood has changed. Thomas had seems so soft and concerned. Something in his face, his eyes, his voice, now seemed angry. I knew it. He realizes how flawed and tainted I am. I feel a bit of panic rise in me. I want to get up and walk out, but instead I meekly say thanks. I am not done with my story and I have yet to tell him why I really came. I want to tell him, especially since I know that he struggled with his faith for years, but his new cold manner is throwing me off.

“You seem to have something else to say.” He looks intensely at me.

Just tell him.

“I am not as…well, I mean…I seem to have lost my faith.” I blurt it out quickly. I pull my shoulders up waiting for some accusing words to fly out of his mouth.

“Hm. Well you came to the right place for that. Faith comes from the message, so why don’t we read some scripture.” Thomas picks up his well-worn Bible from the desk. I look down at my crisp Bible. It looks like new. It’s embarrassing. Thomas, maybe picking up on my embarrassment, continues. “I have to point out that it is a good sign you choose to turn to the church for healing over many other…ah, worldly solutions.”

I feel my awkwardness taking over.

“Do you think you have forgiven Austin for dumping you?”

“I never really thought about it, so I guess I haven’t.” Why in the world would i want to forgive him.

“Then we’ll focus on two things — first faith, then forgiveness. We already established that faith comes from hearing God’s word. it states that in Romans ten-seventeen. So my first suggestion would be to start spending time reading the Bible. At first this will be really hard if you are not used to doing it, so just try and read a chapter a night. If you want, read more. Also, remember that you cannot create your faith. God does. ‘God, you have dealt to me and every man, the measure of faith.’ That’s Romans twelve-three. Any questions?”

“None.” He sounded like the teachers-assistance when they were unexpectedly asked to teach a lesson.

“Then we’ll look at some scripture about forgiveness. Stop me whenever you need to.” Thomas clears his throat. I look up at him an noticed the sheen of sweat gathering above his eyebrows. He furrows them once more. I can’t tell if he’s nervous about advising me or wanting out of the situation.

“I will.” I whisper, tempted to stop him right now and run out the door.

“Ah, it is important to remember that Christ forgave us of all our sins the moment he died on the cross. Though we will sin throughout our lives, he forgives us because he love us so much. In the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus told us to say ‘Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.’ You see, Christ has called us to forgive others just as he forgives us.”

“But how will that help me? If I hate Austin, wouldn’t it be easier to get over him.”

“Maybe, but that’s not really glorifying to God. You see hate doesn’t bring peace and it seems that peace is what you need right now. If you forgive Austin this will come about with the help of God. It might not get you past your feelings but it will get you past your anger. God has control of your life, Sapphira. He loves you so much and wants you to love Him back. He is pursuing you in a way that Austin never can. Austin is flawed.” He almost spits the word ‘flawed’. It shocks me and I turn to look at him. He leans really close to me before he goes on and for a second I worry he will touch me. He clears his throat again, “Austin is flawed just like you and me and every other human. God has no flaws and he will never leave you. He is with you everywhere you go.”

Thomas stops talking for a moment. A large pathetic tear rolls down my left cheek. I turn my head from him hoping to regain my composure, but instead more tears begin to stain my face. I decide it’s really too late to worry about what Thomas thinks of me. I turn back to him; I don’t try to read his expression. I just talk.

“But how do I do that! How do I forgive!!” I almost yell. “I rarely see him and even when I do he does NOT want to talk to me. He treats me like trash and yet I still like him! I don’t get it. I hate him and yet I want to be with him! Am I crazy?”

Thomas inhales sharply, loudly. Maybe this is too much for him.

“No, you are not crazy. Don’t ever call yourself crazy and never let anyone else say that to you.” His words were tense. He grabbed a tissue and handed it to me. He gave me a few moments to compose myself before continuing. “God might not be here in a way that you understand, but he is here. All around us we can see the things He creates. These things speak to us of his glory, his wisdom, his infinite power. If God can create the earth, he can help you forgive and move forward. If God loved the world, including you, enough to allow his only Son to die a horrific death two thousand years ago in order to forgive ALL of our sins, He will love you in this pain and he’ll get you through it.”

Suddenly, almost without realizing it, I jump up. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, I just….” embarrassed by my odd behavior, I decide to run, which for some reason, I don’t think is an odd reaction. I hear Thomas call after me, but I ignore it. All I think about is getting to my car. I am embarrassing myself and Thomas doesn’t seem to want to deal with this. I can’t let him feel bad about his abilities as a pastor. I reach my car and realize I don’t have my keys. Or purse. CRAP! I don’t want to face him. I turn to see him run out the double doors.

“Sapphira!” He catches up with me. I put out my hand to take my purse. He doesn’t hand me my purse, instead he hides it behind his back. “What’s wrong?!”

“I’m sorry Thomas. I don’t want you to think you aren’t good at this. I just, maybe I…I don’t know what to think. I’m damaged goods.”

“So am I.” He moves both of his hands upward, but quickly tightens them back to his side. He gets very rigid for a moment then relaxes. “So am I, we all are. But that’s why you have to remember that we have Christ. He was perfect so that we don’t have to be. We can’t be perfect even if we want to. But He is our Flawless Lamb, our Redeemer.”

“I want to believe, I really do. I want to know I am loved. I just don’t. I feel like I have been left behind by the only person I have ever loved. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Yes, I do.” he huffed. “Elizabeth dumped me.”

“Oh.” I look at the pavement, heat rushes to my face as I realize my self-centered behavior. “Wait, I thought you said it was mutual.”

“Only partially. I did not believe that just because there was distance between us we should break up. She did. We argued about it for a while, but one day I called her and another guy answered the phone. I realized that the distance was not the issue. I also realized that Elizabeth wasn’t as perfect as I thought. Maybe I was holding her up on a pedestal. Maybe I was attached to her because she pulled me through my crisis of faith. In reality, it wasn’t the distance. It was her feelings. She wanted to see another guy; she just didn’t want to admit it. She was trying to save my feelings. Maybe she also felt obligated due to our past. I don’t know. I just told her she was right — that the distance was too much. I didn’t want to cause a messy break up by calling her out on her duplicity. It turns out the other guy would become her future husband. You see, God was in control of the situation. He had another guy in mind for Elizabeth and I pray he has another woman in mind for me.

“Instead of hating him for leaving me without a girlfriend, I chose to trust him. I was so angry at first, but mostly with Elizabeth. I was a bit angry with God for a few weeks, I will admit that. It took me a bit of time to work through all of my sins. I even questioned my decision to become a pastor.”

“How did you get past it?”

“My uncle. He came up to visit me. One of his former classmates was a prof and he told my uncle that my grades were slipping and I wasn’t acting like myself. Lawson wouldn’t leave me until I told him what was going on. I was so stubborn about it. I used to think I knew everything, but I didn’t then and I don’t now. We sat in my dorm room staring at each other for almost four hours until I finally gave in. Luckily, my uncle is just as stubborn as I am. “

I cant help but start to giggle.

“What…?” Thomas eyeballs me.

“I just thought of you and Pastor….staring at each other.” Thomas laughs.

“Looking back it’ funny, but it didn’t seem so at the time. See one day maybe you’ll look back and find this funny too.” He smiles one of those smiles that uses up his whole face.

“I hope so.” I shuffle my feet. Neither of us say a word and I start to wonder what it is about Thomas that both makes me nervous and yet comforts me. He’s real. It’s not something I have encountered very often. It should make me feel at ease but his “realness” calls me to be real with myself. I’m not sure if I am ready to face reality. I want to but this hurts. I am tired of the hurt. He quickly hands me my purse. “Thank you for your help.”

He smiles and extends his hand to me. “Now that we’ve cleared the air a bit and you know that I have gone through the same thing, I hope you will be OK with talking to me.”

“Thanks, Thomas. I’m sure I will.” I unlock the door and slide into the front seat. Thomas holds the door open for a moment.

“Will you be at the party on Wednesday?” his voice carries just a bit of eagerness, for what I am not sure.

“I think I will.” I smile one of the first real smiles I have shared in a long time. He nods and shuts the door. As I pull away he waves to me. A sense of guarded hope fills my mind. I feel as if I have found a true friend.