Monday, June 22, 2009

The Bench, Part 2 of 2 (by Billy Coffey)



In case you missed Part One of this story, you can find it here: The Bench, Part 1 of 2.

And now for the eagerly awaited conclusion to the story:

I smiled, satisfied that I had answered her questions and fulfilled my duty. I could send her off to her father now and have my bench to myself.

But Jordan wasn’t finished.

“Where are your wings?” she asked.

“In my pocket,” I answered.

“Can I see them?”

“No.”

“Are Adam and Eve sorry?”

“Yes, and God forgave them.”

“Is Jonah afraid of fish?”

“Not anymore.”

“How old is God?”

“Really, really old.”

“Does He have dreams when He sleeps?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because God doesn’t sleep.”

“God doesn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

“Why?”

“Because He’s busy watching over you.”

“Why does He watch over me?”

“Because God loves you and He wants to keep you safe.”

“Then why did He let my mommy die?”

My mouth, open and ready to fire off another automatic answer, suddenly became very dry.

“What?”

Jordan looked up to me then, her legs still. Tears began to pool in her little eyes. “I said if God loves me and wants to keep me safe, then why did He let my mommy die?”

She sniffled, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks and waited for an answer. I had none. This was not a child’s question. This was an adult question. Serious stuff.

Why? It was a question I still asked myself, and often. A question I still often asked God, too.

Why does the world have to be so bad? Why do the innocent have to suffer? Why must good people have nothing and bad people have everything and why does it have to be that way? And now I could add another to the list: why would God take a mother away from her little girl?

Because bad things happened in this life, and to everyone. That was the easy answer. The world was a hard place. No one lived happily ever after. And no matter how wise we became, we would always leave with more questions than answers.

But how could I tell Jordan that?

My lips moved, but no words came. I knew this was one of those moments in Jordan’s life where she found herself at a fork in the road. One path led to healing. The other led to bitterness. And whatever I said next may well be the very words that pushed down either the one or the other.

I had gotten into this situation out of the goodness of my heart. I had no ill intentions, only concern. But this, this was too much for me. I couldn’t lie anymore. It was time to tell Jordan the truth. I owed her that much.

“Jordan?” I said.

She sniffled and wiped her nose. “What?”

“I’m not an angel.” I spat the words out as quickly as I could and readied myself for what would happen next. Tears, of course. Maybe a tantrum. Both of which would be completely justified.

But there was only silence. Finally, Jordan said, “I thought maybe you weren’t.”

“You did?” I asked.

She pointed to my hat. “Daddy says God hates the Yankees.”

I chuckled. She managed a weak grin, and then her steadfast countenance crumbled in a fit of tears. I wrapped my arms around her and she huddled into the crook of my shoulder and gently rocked her as she sobbed.

We sat for a long while on the bench, our bench, and looked out over the river. The ducks arrived, and we both took turns tossing bits of bread to them as they quacked and fought for each chunk.

I told Jordan that I didn’t know why God took her mother away, but that He must have had a very good reason, because He always does, and one day she would find out. “In the meantime,” I said, “your mom still loves you and she’s in a good place. The best place.”

When all the bread was gone and the ducks had waddled off, Jordan said it was time for her to be going. She thanked me, gave me another hug, and assured me that she felt better. I knew she didn’t. But I also knew that one day she would. I watched her walk toward the bridge that led across the river and to the soccer field and the houses beyond.

“See ya,” she said from the bridge.

“See ya.”

And she was gone.

I remained there for a long while, watching the river flow by. Jordan and I had a lot in common, I decided. Both of us were sitting in a big, dark room full of questions. Right in front of us was a window, and streaming through that window was the light of truth, all the answers to all the questions we could ever ask. But over that window was the shade of time, drawn tight.

As we both grew, learning and living more, that shade would ease up a little here and there and shed some light on the things that bother us so. We both want that shade out of the way. We want to see the whole view from that window, the whole truth. But, you see, if that shade were pulled up all at once, and all the truth shone through in an instant, we would be blinded by the light.

One day, I expect I will see Jordan again. Perhaps along some street paved in gold, beside a crystal sea. She will introduce me to her mother and I will thank her for bringing such a beautiful girl into the world.

And then Jordan and I will sit down on a bench and share all the answers we know, and we will laugh.

To read more from Billy Coffey, please visit him at What I Learned Today

30 comments:

Anne Lang Bundy said...

Billy, you did Good. You said Good to Jordan. You wrote Good for us.

I've no doubt this will be one of the moments to again come to mind when God says, "Well done, Good and Faithful Servant."

Peter P said...

I wonder who the angel was... I'm voting that it was Jordan teaching YOU something (and us).

Shark Bait said...

...followed shortly by, "But you still have to take off that Yankees cap if you want to come in here."

Good story. Very moving.

SB

Denise said...

I am with Peter P on this one...I think Jordan was the angel here.

Beautiful.
Shalom,
Denise

BeckeyZ said...

Sure, make me tear up at 3:32 am. That was totally worth waiting for.

Good job, good story, good message!

Bless you.

Anonymous said...

Great story, as always Billy!

~*Michelle*~ said...

tears in my coffee cup this morning......

wow, Billy!.....what an amazing story.....I am with the others here....I'm thinking she was the one hiding the wings.

peace
*~Michelle~*

nitewrit said...

Billy,

My thoughts went to where the majority are right now. She never said she was an angel, but she never said she wasn't.

Larry E.

Beth in NC said...

Beautiful Billy!

Candy said...

Thank you once again, Billy. Riveting.

Annie K said...

...'Daddy said God hates the Yankees".(snort) (I've been accused of being one. Oh wait...I'm from Oregon.)

Awesome stuff Billy. As always!

Tina said...

beautiful Billy!

Life is so full of hard stuff, ugly stuff....

I love being able to come to your part of the world and get a bit of light and love

Thanks,
Tina

Helen said...

You may not be a bona fide angel, but you were a messenger from God for her. And she for you.

Billy Coffey said...

You people are freaking me out about Jordan being an angel.

Never thought of that...

Then again, that would mean that God really does hate the Yankees. Impossible.

jasonS said...

Well that conclusion was worth the week. Very nice!

Beth E. said...

Billy Coffey, you have touched my heart with this beautiful story. I'm sitting here at my office with tears streaming down my face! I could just picture that sweet little girl...perhaps she WAS an angel!

Thank you...
Beth E.

Keystone said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sarah Salter said...

I love how God takes a good deed that we think we're doing and He turns it around and uses it to minister to us...

"And a little child shall lead them..."

Jeanne Damoff said...

Billy, you are a fabulous storyteller, but more than that, you live your life in such a way that stories gravitate toward you. And you inspire me to do the same.

LOVE this. So much. Missed the first installment until today, so I got the whole beautiful story in one lump. (In my throat, that is).

God did answer Jordan's prayer. Just not the way she expected. He gave her something better. And isn't that almost always the case?

I agree with Anne L.B. Well done.

Jeanne

Anonymous said...

Amazing.

April said...

Oh, Billy! That was fantastic! God brought you and Jordan together for a reason...someday you'll know why! Beautiful story!

Rebecca said...

I figured if I had to wait a week, I might as well wait to read the first installment with the second...I'm so glad I did!

I just want to take that little girl into my arms and hold her forever...I'm sure you felt the same when her heartache came out. What a wonderful thing that you were able to be there with her. Maybe that gentle touch from a stranger was something she needed in order to begin to heal.

Anonymous said...

Hey Katdish, apparently people are scared of you, by the sound of the comments being made on my blog today. Did you strong arm some people into joining Twitter or something?

Denise said...

Billy, you are so beyond awesome. Bless you always.

Karin said...

I just echo all the sentiments that have been expressed in the previous comments. Thanks so much for such a deeply meaningful and inspirational story. What a gift to share your life with a stranger - perhaps an angel unaware!

Peter P said...

So Billy... something has been bothering me...

Little girl alone in the park and you let her walk home all by herself?

Wendy said...

Loved it! 'Nuff said.

katdish said...

Now see, Wendy. Wasn't that worth the wait? (snort!)

Tina Dee Books said...

Wow--you'd think by now I'd have the box of Kleenex right next to me when I trek over to read your blogs.

Thanks. Very much. It was beautiful.

Joanne Sher said...

Oh, Billy. WORTH the wait - and so compelling. LOVE that Yankees line, of course, and the rest of the story (for totally different reasons). Masterful.