The Atonement Child

  “You rest here. I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes,” the nurse said, leaving them in a quiet, antiseptic recovery room.

  As the door closed behind the nurse, Dynah started to cry—deep, wrenching sobs of relief mingled with grief. “Oh, Mom. Did you see her? Did you see how perfect she was?”

  “Yes, honey. I did.” And her heart was breaking.

  Chapter 11

  Leaning down, Hannah kissed her drowsy daughter. “I’m going home to get some sleep, honey. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Dynah was already asleep, exhausted from the hours of labor. Hannah stood a moment longer at the bedside, gazing at the blonde tendrils of hair curling against her daughter’s temples. She looked so young and untouched by the tragedies of life.

  How is it possible You gave me such a daughter, Lord? I am so undeserving. She’s brave and true, and she stood firm. God, forgive me. I tried to convince her to follow in my footsteps. I remember all those years of emptiness and separateness from You, and yet, You redeemed me. You brought me up out of the pit. And You gave me this atonement child. I was like Rachel of old, mourning for my child, refusing to be consoled because my baby was no more. And then I returned to You, and You said to me, “Cease your cries of mourning. Wipe the tears from your eyes. The sorrow you have shown shall have its reward. There is a hope for your future.” And now You’ve shown me, Father. Thanks be to You, Jesus, Dynah followed You and not me.

  She took Dynah’s limp hand and studied the slender fingers and short clipped nails, remembering how her granddaughter had clasped one and clung before being taken away. Her throat closed tight.

  Oh, Lord, Lord, whatever You say, I’ll do it. Whatever. Only tell me soon. Please.

  Though it was past eleven, the lights in the corridor outside Dynah’s room were fully on. A nurse passed by and smiled. Two others were at the nurses’ station discussing a chart. Hannah hesitated, standing in the cross of two intersecting corridors.

  One last look, Lord. Just one last look . . .

  She hadn’t expected to find Doug standing at the nursery window, but there he was, staring in, one hand against the glass. Sensing someone staring at him, he turned his head and saw her. Lowering his hand, he stepped back slightly.

  As Hannah came closer, she saw a nurse had brought the baby over so he could get a good look at her. She looked up at him and then back at her granddaughter being carried back to the clear plastic bed. She was afraid to look at Doug again, afraid what she would see in his eyes, afraid he would see the anguish in her own.

  “Dynah?” he said gruffly.

  “Sleeping.”

  “How is she?”

  “Fine.” She swallowed convulsively and let out her breath softly, regaining control of her emotions. “When did you get here?”

  “A little past five.”

  She shut her eyes, ashamed. He had arrived before the baby was born and had waited hours for word from her. She had cut him out deliberately, punishing him for past hurts. She bit her lip, waiting for his accusation and retaliation. He was silent, pensive. She remembered his telling her she viewed life as a half-empty cup rather than one half-full, and she knew he was right. She had built her life on that habit and brought pain on herself and others for her unrelenting self-centeredness.

  God, forgive me.

  “How’d she do?” he said quietly, not looking at her, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

  “Beautifully.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  She waited for him to ask why she hadn’t called him before leaving the house for the hospital. He didn’t. He didn’t ask her anything. He didn’t accuse. He didn’t berate. She had cut him out of the second most important event in their lives, the birth of their granddaughter, and he said nothing of the hurt he must feel. “Joe kept me company,” he said. “He’ll come back and see her tomorrow.”

  Joe. Ever faithful Joe. “That’s nice.”

  They stood in silence, both hurting, staring in through the glass at the sleeping baby in bin #7 with Carey printed in clear black letters.

  “I remember the day our daughter was born like it was yesterday,” Doug said finally. “She looks just like Dynah.”

  Hannah heard the tears in his voice and understood perfectly. Hadn’t she been afraid? Hadn’t she expected the worst? Odd that it had never occurred even to her that despite all circumstances, God had brought this child into being. God had created her. How could she be anything less than wonderful?

  Sing, O heavens, for the Lord has done this wondrous thing.

  And she knew as well what God wanted of her. It was no less than what she wanted for herself. Restoration.

  She surrendered. Simply. Completely. And as she did, all the tension went from her with a soft sigh. She could breathe again and inhale the fresh air of God’s sweet grace. All the years she had struggled and fought to attain peace for herself, and it came as a free gift with her obedience.

  Filled to overflowing with love, Hannah slipped her hand into Doug’s and wove her fingers with his. “Let’s go home.”

  His fingers tightened around hers, telling her more than words ever could.

  Dynah awakened feeling empty and alone. The other bed was empty, the patient having been discharged shortly after Dynah arrived. “You’re lucky to have a room to yourself,” the nurse had said as she put Dynah’s dinner on the rolling tray. “You’ll be able to sleep.”

  Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw it was two thirty in the morning. A crack of light shone beneath her doorway. Someone was talking in the corridor.

  She needed to use the bathroom. Rather than ring for a nurse, she pushed the covers back and eased her legs over the side. She sat for a moment waiting for the light-headedness to pass. The last thing she wanted to do was faint on the floor and bring everyone running.

  Rather than return to bed, she pulled on the robe her mother had left out for her and sat in the chair near the windows. She let out her breath slowly, surrendering the ache in her heart. “Abba Father, surely this suffering has been for my benefit. You’ve kept me in Your love, and I am not destroyed.” Her eyes pricked with tears. “Your will be done.”

  I WILL LEAD THE BLIND BY WAYS THEY HAVE NOT KNOWN, ALONG UNFAMILIAR PATHS I WILL GUIDE THEM.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks and spotted her white hospital gown.

  AND A LITTLE CHILD WILL LEAD THEM ALL. . . .

  “Lord,” she whispered, “she is born. She is wonderful. All I have done, You have done for me. What now?”

  And God told her.

  Dynah did not hesitate.

  Standing shakily, she returned to bed and pressed the call button. The door opened a moment later and a nurse entered.

  “Would you please bring me my baby?”

  The nurse hesitated. “Under the circumstances, it might be best if you didn’t hold the baby.”

  “The circumstances have changed. I’m keeping her.”

  The nurse was aware of the difficulties surrounding this child as well as the circumstances of its conception. “It might be better if you spoke to someone about this.”

  Dynah smiled, radiant. “I already have.”

  Evie received two calls on the morning of September 25. The first was from Hannah informing her that Dynah had given birth to a baby girl. Mother and child were both in perfect health. The second was from Dynah. The conversation was brief.

  “Granny, I’m going to keep my baby.”

  “Praise God,” Evie said, feeling the weight of decades lift as a new road was forged ahead. “When can I expect the two of you?”

  Dynah watched her daughter suckle and marveled at how perfect she was. Her head and body, her arms and legs, her tiny hands and feet were all combined to make a work of art. The small mouth stopped tugging as she fell asleep, replete and content. Dynah smiled, pressing her little finger lightly against her breast to break the suction.

  Covering herself, Dynah lifted her daughter against her shoulder and rubbed her back gentl
y. The baby was a melting softness against her heart. She loved the smell of her child, the feel of her silky smooth, flawless skin, the soft sounds she made. Laying the baby down between her thighs, Dynah opened the blanket and studied her perfect little body again. She was in awe of her.

  Oh, Lord, You formed my baby’s inward parts; You wove her in my womb. I give thanks to You, for she is fearfully and wonderfully made. Oh, Father, how wonderful are Your words; my soul knows it well. Her frame was never hidden from You. You saw her unformed substance and wrote her name in Your Book of Life. You even knew the days ordained for her when as yet there was not one. She is beautiful as You are beautiful, perfect in every way.

  I WILL POUR OUT MY SPIRIT AND MY BLESSINGS ON YOUR CHILDREN. THEY WILL THRIVE LIKE WATERED GRASS, LIKE WILLOWS ON A RIVERBANK. SOME WILL PROUDLY CLAIM, “I BELONG TO THE LORD.”

  Leaning down, Dynah kissed the soles of her daughter’s feet and felt the tiny toes curl against her lips.

  “Hi, kid.”

  Dynah’s heart leaped at the sound of Joe’s voice. Lifting her head, she saw him leaning casually against the doorjamb, watching her. Her heart turned over as he smiled. She smiled back. “I made it to the hospital on time.”

  “I figured that when I found the note taped to the front door,” he said, entering the room and pushing the curtain back farther.

  “I’m sorry, Joe.”

  “About what? Not waiting around? I’d have been ready to strangle you if you had.”

  “Mom said you were here the whole time.”

  “In the waiting room with a bunch of nervous dads.”

  “Including mine.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “This morning. He stopped by the nursery last night to see her,” she said, looking down at her daughter. She looked up at Joe again and smiled. “He and Mom went home together.” She laughed. “Mom forgot she drove her car.”

  Joe’s eyes twinkled. “I take it things are looking up.”

  “You could say that. They were here together this morning.” She cocked her head in a teasing manner. “And you were right, Joe.”

  “About what?”

  She grinned. “She’s a girl.”

  He came around the bed, smiling down at the baby. “And a beauty, just like her mother. May I?”

  “Of course,” she said, watching him.

  Joe lifted the baby carefully, cradling her tenderly in his arms. He walked around the room, gazing down at her in wonder. “Hello, princess,” he murmured softly, and the baby awakened, gazing up at him. Stopping at the foot of the bed, Joe looked at Dynah. “You did good.”

  Dynah blushed and lowered her head. She felt how he looked her over. She wished she had taken the time to brush and French-braid her hair and put on a little makeup. She must look a fright in her hospital gown with her hair in disarray.

  Joe thought she had never looked more beautiful. He cleared his throat. “What are you gonna call her?”

  “Deborah,” she said, “Deborah Anne Carey.” Deborah for Israel’s judge who led her people into battle, Anne for the prophetess who knew the Word of the Lord.

  “Welcome to the world, Deborah Anne Carey,” Joe said, stroking the soft cheek with the back of his knuckles. He had never felt anything so soft or beheld anything so untainted and perfect. He brushed her palm and felt the tiny fingers clasp his finger. He swallowed hard, struck by the depth of God’s mercy.

  “We’ll be moving to Oregon in a few weeks.”

  Joe glanced up. “What’d you say?” He felt as though Dynah had kicked the wind out of him.

  Just like that, Lord? Here one day and gone tomorrow?

  “Deborah and I. We’re moving to Oregon,” she said again. Joe didn’t look pleased. She explained about her grandmother’s condition and offer as well as the welcome mat laid out by Granny that morning.

  “That’s great,” Joe said flatly. Oregon, huh? Okay, Lord. If that’s the way You want it. Oregon, it is. I’ve always wanted to see the Northwest. “I’ve heard it’s a great place to live.”

  “Maybe you’ll come visit sometime,” Dynah said. She felt like one of the Israelites after forty years in the desert. She was stepping into the Jordan. Would God hold back the water and let her get to the Promised Land?

  Joe looked at her, dark eyes clear and direct. “Just give me the address.”

  She blinked. And if that wasn’t confirmation enough . . .

  THIS IS THE MAN I HAVE CHOSEN FOR YOU, BELOVED.

  As she stared into Joe’s eyes, her heart soared. Oh, Lord, Lord. I am so undeserving.

  As Joe returned his attention to her baby, Dynah watched him, her heart softening and warming. Every doubt and hesitation melted away, and she felt the wonder of God’s love for her. Oh, Jesus, I love You. I love You so much.

  “Oh, Joe . . . ,” she said softly, seeing him fully for the first time. He had always been there, right beside her, exactly where the Lord had placed him.

  Joe raised his head and looked at her, bemused by what he saw in her eyes. He had waited so long he didn’t recognize it for what it was. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to monopolize her.” He brought the baby around the bed and laid her gently on Dynah’s thighs.

  “Joe . . .” Cupping his cheek, she turned his face toward her. “My sweet, sweet Joe . . .” Leaning forward, she kissed him full on the mouth.

  Joe caught his breath and drew back slightly, searching her eyes. When she smiled, heaven opened. “Oh,” he said, that hushed word the beginning of a psalm. Raking his fingers lightly into her hair, he let the wonder of it flood him. “It’s about time.”

  She laughed softly. “Will you marry me?”

  His mouth curved wryly, eyes shining. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Leaning down again, Joe kissed her the way he had dreamed of doing since the moment he saw her walk into the gymnasium at NLC.

  Epilogue

  A young girl sat in the full waiting room of the clinic, her heart hammering, her stomach so tense she felt sick. One girl sat crying silently while an older, narrow-eyed, tight-lipped woman sat beside her. A woman in her late thirties sat with her slender legs crossed reading Fortune. Another girl, in her early teens, in a pair of baggy black Levi’s and a scoop-necked white T-shirt sat forward, knees and toes together, beside her friend in a short black skirt and tight red sweater.

  No one spoke. No one met the gaze of another. They stared down at their hands or a magazine or off into space.

  The young girl closed her eyes tightly, praying for strength.

  I AM HERE, BELOVED. I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD, WHO LOVES YOU.

  The door opened, and a woman in white stood looking at her clipboard. “Number nine.”

  The waiting room emptied of one.

  The young girl hunched in her chair. Oh, God, oh, God, I’m so scared. I want to go home.

  COME OUT FROM THEM, BELOVED, AND BE SEPARATE, AND I WILL LEAD YOU IN THE WAY EVERLASTING.

  Shaking, she got up.

  Her boyfriend clamped his hand around her wrist. “Where’re you going?” he said in a hushed, taut voice.

  She leaned down and whispered. “I don’t want to do this.”

  He pulled her down beside him again. “Do you think I do?”

  “Then let’s leave.”

  “And do what?” He leaned closer, speaking so only she could hear. “Look, this isn’t easy for me, either. Don’t make it any harder. We’ve been over this a hundred times. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  She tried not to cry. Crying only upset him more. She didn’t want him to get mad at her. “I don’t think I can go through it.”

  “You said your parents would disown you.”

  THOUGH YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER FORSAKE YOU, I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU.

  “And what about school?”

  “There must be another way.”

  “What other way? You tell me what other way.”

  She looked up at him pleadingly. “We could get married.”
>
  “Yeah, right,” he said sotto voce. “And live on what? Love?”

  “I’d work. . . .”

  “Give me a break. At that fast-food place? Making minimum wage? And what about after the baby comes? Kiss my future good-bye. I want to go to college. Remember?”

  Her eyes burned with tears at his tone. He had been so sweet and tender before they had sex. After the first time, that was all he ever wanted. And now that she was pregnant, he was angry with her most of the time. It wasn’t all her fault she was in this condition. She’d only forgotten to take her pill that one day, and he’d never once taken precautions.

  “I’m scared,” she said in a soft, shaky voice.

  TRUST ME. I AM YOUR ROCK AND YOUR FORTRESS. I AM YOUR DELIVERER, BELOVED. TAKE REFUGE IN ME, FOR I AM YOUR SHIELD AND THE HORN OF YOUR SALVATION. CALL TO ME AND I WILL RESCUE YOU FROM YOUR ENEMIES. THE CORDS OF DEATH WILL NOT ENTANGLE YOU. . . .

  “I’m scared, too,” he said, surprising her.

  “I want to leave.”

  He took her hand and held it tightly. She could feel the perspiration on his palms. “I’ve heard it’s not so bad,” he said bleakly.

  SEEK ME, BELOVED, AND I WILL ANSWER YOU. I WILL DELIVER YOU. I WILL BE YOUR HIDING PLACE. I WILL PROTECT YOU AND SURROUND YOU WITH SONGS OF DELIVERANCE.

  “It’s only supposed to take a few minutes. By tomorrow, it’ll all be behind us.”

  She looked at her boyfriend and saw how uncomfortable he was. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He just wanted to get it over and get out of here.

  Oh, God, I don’t want to lose him.

  I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD AND THERE IS NO OTHER.

  Her heart jumped as the door opened again.

  TURN TO ME IN YOUR HOUR OF NEED AND I WILL . . .

  Her number was called.

  . . . LOVE YOU WITH A LOVE THAT WILL LAST FOREVER.

  She hesitated.

  “Go,” her boyfriend said, looking at her imploringly.

  DO NOT HIDE YOUR FACE FROM ME, BELOVED. I LOVE YOU WITH AN EVERLASTING LOVE. I WILL PROVIDE FOR YOU. HEED MY VOICE.