THE 10 MINUTE ENCOURAGER
by
Elizabeth Baker

God has said, never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.

Hebrews 13:5 NIV

Storm Song

Jessie hated to see him go. She watched the big eighteen wheeler as it twisted out of sight around the first bend then stood transfixed until it peeked out again further down the mountain. In the winter, she could often catch one last glimpse just before Bud made the final turn to the interstate, but it was mid summer now and the trees were in full leaf. It was useless to stand on the porch any longer, so with a reluctant sigh she turned back into her simple, frame home on the mountain.

Home. The word carried a lot of comfort and peace. Especially in these Ozark hills. This was where she grew up and this was where Jessie knew she belonged. But every time she watched Bud’s rig pull away and head down the mountain, she had to fight the fear that welled up inside.

For as long as she could remember, fear had been a part of Jessie’s life. In grade school she was the shy one who seldom spoke and when the ninth grade required her to ride the bus to Brighton, what she experienced was near terror. The first week she thought surely she would throw up in the aisle and the driver would put her off on some unknown road in the wilderness. But, her Maw kept assuring her things would be better and, as predicted, at the end of the second week they were. Charlotte moved in across the valley.

Charlotte. The memory of her friend brought a warm smile. How she missed her! But shortly after graduation her dear companion swapped the mountains for a scholarship in Little Rock. If it hadn’t been for Bud, Jessie wondered if she could have endured the pain or if the dark clouds that always shadowed her path might have swallowed her whole.

A small voice from the hall interrupted the reminiscence. “Daddy gone?” asked three year old Peggy rubbing sleepy eyes.

“Yes, dear. Daddy gone. But, he’ll be back in five days.” She looked into questioning blue eyes and realized a three-year-old had no concept of how long five days might be. “Come on. Let’s go in the kitchen so we won’t wake Brother. We can draw a circle on the calendar and mark off one day at a time until Daddy gets back.”

When she was finished explaining the plan Peggy looked at the calendar a long time. “If we put the X’s on five numbers now will Daddy come back in the morning?” she asked innocently.

“No, we have to sleep then wake up before we mark out each day.” Peggy didn’t understand but something inside registered the truth that Daddy wouldn’t be home for a long time and her bottom lip began to quiver.

“This will never do,” said Jessie sitting her daughter on the floor. “Tell you what: let’s play a game. Or, better yet, we’ll sing a song together. A happy song.”

“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!” Jessie began the simple chorus. “If you’re happy and you know it then your face will surely show it. / If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”

The melody was bright and Peggy could easily clap. She had learned that skill more than a year ago. Brother couldn’t clap yet so the action made her proud. As verse after verse repeated the melody, Peggy and her mother clapped their hands, stomped their feet, turned around and said “amen.” A grin slowly replaced the threatened tears and by the time Brother was awake Peggy’s world seemed right again.

But, for Jessie the world was not so easily put straight. The company of the children helped, but loneliness still gnawed just below the surface. And fear. Always the fear.

Later that afternoon she tried to take the children outside, but the oppression grew stronger. The air was thick and hot. Not a breath of breeze stirred. Even the birds had stopped singing as an unusual, expectant silence settled over her mountain. In less than half an hour she went back inside with a sweaty and complaining baby tucked under each arm.

Cool air from the window units filled most of the rooms but they could barely keep up with the stifling temperatures and rising humidity. Supper was peanut butter sandwiches, and carrot sticks. It was just too uncomfortable for anything else. Then, at five-thirty the skies collapsed and a flood of water slammed against the windows on the south-east side of the house, and the thunder that began as a low rumble rolled toward the house growing louder with each passing mile then broke from the trees like the roar of a tremendous lion. Peggy squealed and ran to find her mother followed closely by her squalling, crawling baby brother. “It’s all right, Peggy,” Jessie comforted. “That’s just the angels moving the furniture around in heaven.”

She felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. The silly phrase was a superstition her own mother used when she had cried out in fear as a child. It hadn’t worked to comfort then and it didn’t work now. Lightening flashed and another round of thunder shook the walls. Maybe she should take another pill.

The medication for Jessie’s panic disorder had been prescribed shortly after Peggy was born and at first the pills were nothing short of a miracle. When her throat became tight and her mind raced with visions of tragedy and her hands began to shake, the little blue pills made it all go away. Without them she doubted she could have ever allowed Bud to go back to his career as an over the road driver. Yet, no matter how beneficial, she had been warned about using them too often and she didn’t want to spend her life getting peace from a bottle.

It has been a difficult fight but slowly Jessie used the pills less and less. Instead of pills, she practiced self-talk, prayer and purposely putting her mind on the solid things around her. She would face the terror raging inside and wait five minutes or maybe thirty before surrendering to a chemical solution. It had taken almost three years, but she hadn’t had a pill in nearly three months.

Maybe she would have to take a pill later, but at least she didn’t have to lie to her child. “I’m sorry, honey, I should not have said that. The angels are not really moving furniture.” She knelt and embraced Peggy as Brother arrived and pulled into the group embrace. “But it’s true that God knows about storms and understands when we are scared.” They held on to each other and rocked while another prolonged rumble rolled.

“Ma-ma, can we sing?” Peggy asked.

What a wonderful idea! Yes, sing! It would be ok to reach for the pills if there was no other way, but singing first certainly couldn’t hurt. Jessie tried to stand while holding both children, but her small frame wouldn’t permit such a move. So, let go of the children, stood on her own, bent at the knees, took one child in each arm and straightened with her thigh muscles. It was hard, but the motion worked. She staggered to the rocker in the dimly lit living room, fell backwards into its embrace and with a feeble, shaking voice began to sing.

“I’ve seen the lightening flashing, /And heard the thunder roll, / I’ve felt sins’ breakers dashing, /Trying to conquer my soul/.” Every joint of the old wooden rocker creaked as the weight of three moving bodies as they settled into rhythm and when an especially loud clap broke over the roof, Jessie raised the volume of her own voice in tandem. “I’ve heard the voice of Jesus, /Telling me still to fight on,/ He promised never to leave me, /Never to leave me alone.”

It was thirty-five minutes before the crashing stopped, but by the time the last drops from the soaking trees splashed to the ground, a genuine peace had replaced the panic that had threatened and as two sleepy babies snuggled to her breast. She had sung about amazing grace and about walking with Jesus in a garden. Words to songs she hardly knew came fresh to her mind and when she forgot the tune, she made up her own.

As the clouds passed, a light, that seemed to come from all directions at once, shown golden and pale. The storm was gone from the outside and the storm was gone from within Jessie as well. She breathed easily and returned for the last time to the same song with which her concert had begun. “No never alone. /No never alone. /He promised never to leave me. /Never to leave me alone. /No, never alone. No never alone. /He promised never to leave me. /Never to leave me alone”.

Be Encouraged: No matter what your feel or what comes against you, a Christian is never alone.

*****

For information about Elizabeth's books and to read other stories visit her at: www.elizabethbakerbooks.com