12
Years Makes a Difference
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Chapter 12
Confusion
and shock were still with him that night as he prayed. "I can't feel
that way about Christa -- she's still just a girl. I'm a grown man, and I've
been an adult for a number of years – for most of her life. If a friend asked
me, I’d say 28 is definitely too old for a 16 year old."
And
yet, there was something he couldn't shake, the same knowing that had
come over him the day of her 14th birthday party. Patrick knew that Christa
was no ordinary girl. Maybe that had something to do with it.
"And
I guess neither am I a normal man," he said out loud. "Nope, I'm
definitely not ordinary -- I'm out of my mind!" Frustrated, he brought
the problem before the Lord. And as he prayed, the Lord's presence descended
into the room.
Patrick
felt the strong, reassuring love of Jesus making everything right in his
heart, arranging it all into peaceful, contented order. It helped him through
the days that followed. Still, each thought of Christa brought with it a
measure of continual turmoil.
"Lord,
what's going on?" He remembered the feelings he had experienced the one
time he had been in love. This was vaguely similar – but somehow stronger – which
was alarming.
"I
have no idea why this is happening, but if it's your work, please confirm it
quickly or remove the burden of this emotion from me, he prayed one night."
Alone in her room that same night, Christa found herself praying for her
future spouse. "Lord, prepare my husband for the job of dealing with me."
Chuckling,
she continued, "Give him patience and tenderness..." Her mind made
a picture for her, a personification of these qualities. She shook it off and
continued her prayer.
Uttering
praises, worshiping the Lord in song, she poured out her adoration to her
savior. She finally concluded with, "Help him to stay pure for me, and
help me to stay pure for him."
The
prayer had been spoken every night of her life since her fourteenth birthday,
according to her promise to Patrick, and it had slowly evolved from a vague,
general request to a specific set of petitions.
She
prayed the prayer in bed tonight, just as she had every day. At the
conclusion of her knelt prayers, she had always snuggled into bed and
directed this final piece to God in her last moments of wakefulness. Only
this time, she added a postscript.
"And
if it's not Patrick that you have for my future, Lord, help me to accept
that, and please take these feelings away from me."
All
night long, Patrick woke and slept, praying every time he returned to
consciousness, seeking the peace that only God could bring. "What are
you doing?" he asked the Lord suddenly, right before dawn. It was clear
to him that this was not a minor fancy, and he was sunk if it wasn't God's
will.
"Father,
this is not the way I had expected it. How could I have suddenly fallen so
hard for a girl that I watched grow up? She’s too young for me. I’m too old
for her. And even if it is your will, this is too soon. She’s not full-grown
yet. Besides, we’re more like siblings than lovers." But he realized
that wasn't exactly true.
Christa
had been a friend, one he had respected from a tender age, but not a sister.
His love for her had been friendship, and as she had grown, he had become
uncomfortable about her negative attitude because of his deep feeling for her
and his concern for her life. Because of this, it wasn't until Jessica's
crisis that they had experienced any real conversation.
Yet
through all these years, he had always felt as if he knew her, if only the
real Christa would return to the surface. And, finally, now that she had, he
realized that he had sorely missed her, and he wanted to keep her with him.
"Lord, don't let her change on me again.”
He
thought about it for a moment and added, “Whether or not this feeling is from
you, and even if you allow this love I feel to come to nothing, don't let her
change again." He realized how much she meant to him when he prayed
this, but he also understood that this was not to be, for now. He would have
to just wait. If it was a God thing, it would work out.
The
next morning, when Christa came into the kitchen, her mother looked at her
oddly. Checking her face in the mirror afterward, Christa had found nothing
out of the ordinary. Still, her mom kept sneaking looks at her all during
breakfast. Christa, on the other hand, could hardly look away from Patrick.
She tried to force herself to look at her dad, her mom, her plate, and
anywhere else, in order to keep from staring wistfully at him.
Oh, I've got it bad, she
groaned inwardly, What a time to fall in love! Still, she had hope.
Perhaps she could talk it over with her mother. But even Mom won't
understand this. He's twelve years my senior! Her father? She shook her
head. Who could she talk to?
Up
until now, every time she had a problem her parents couldn't handle, she had
spoken to Patrick. Jessica's pregnancy had been one example. Her mother might
have helped, but Christa had been afraid she might scare Jessica off.
At the
time, Jessica had been rebellious, not wanting any grown-ups in her life.
Since Patrick was still single and Christa could trust him, Jessica had
agreed to allow him into the secret. However, what if that had backfired?
What
if Jessica had done something awful, like commit suicide or have the
abortion? Would Christa wish she had told her mom? This time, however,
Christa felt that her only choice was to keep it quiet.
Christa’s
heart was something she usually kept hidden from others, anyway, and this
romantic feeling for Patrick was way too
embarrassing to talk about. Except maybe to Jessica! The thought immediately
put her in a good mood. Yes, she would talk to Jessica. But then a definite
warning bell sounded in her head.
No,
the Lord was right; Jessica was not the one to consult on matter involving
boys. Besides, Christa thought as her stomach sank deeper, he's not
a boy at all. I'm in love with a 28 year old man.
12 Years Makes a Difference
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