Mom Over Miami Part 27

A little corner of the world where no one had ever heard of the DIY-Namic Duo.

And where, if anyone wanted a snack, they called room service.

"Peace," she murmured, falling back onto the bed. "Except for one little thing."

She glared at the brown-and-white rectangular sign boasting We Provide A High-Speed Internet Connection For Our Guests' Convenience. She could run away from almost every source of frustration and fear in her life-but she couldn't hide.

She had no excuse now for not replying to Jacqui and Cydney. And worse, no excuse for not turning in her column. No excuse but the fact that she didn't have a column. That she had no idea what to say in a column.

"You have to take care of yourself and refill the well." She reminded herself of Lauren's excellent advice. Even Payt had told her she had to go after her dreams, to do whatever made her "happy happy."

And she had.

For about ten seconds when she came into this room she had been the most happy happy she'd been since...

"Since Tessa smiled at me last? Since Payt held me in his arms? Since I tucked Sam in bed thankful to G.o.d we'd had him for one more day?" Her daily life brimmed with happy moments-the sort of everyday ordinary happy that she had started to take for granted.

Or worse.

That she had pushed aside to make room for all the fear and worry that she fed with her own doubts and fault findings.

How had she let it go so far that the only way she could find to remedy it was to run away from her family and friends?

You know, sweet girl, insecurities and the driving desire for independence-they stem from the same place.

Hannah recalled Aunt Phiz's attempt to get her to confront the issue months ago. She hadn't had the time then, and wasn't sure even now that it would do any good.

It had been more than a year since she had stood at her mother's grave.

More than a year since she and her sisters had discovered the source of their mother's pain and chosen to forgive her even if they could not understand her.

How could they understand? Only her sister Sadie had been a mom then. Hannah and their oldest sister, April, had nothing to base their concepts of the mother/daughter bond on then. Just idealized visions, glimpses into the lives of their friends and the TV-show images that never wholly rang true.

But that had changed. With Tessa-and with Sam-that had all changed for Hannah. She knew now how much she could love another person, how much she could ache for them, how much she could sacrifice for them. And the toll all that could take on a person who didn't have a solid spiritual, mental and physical foundation.

Hannah's mom never had those things. Depression and circ.u.mstances had robbed her of them.

But Hannah had them and in amazing abundance, if she would just utilize them. She hadn't, and where had she ended up? In essence the same place her mother had-leaving her family.

Just that fast, in the time it took for her to think the very words...Hannah got it.

She got it.

Her mother's leaving had nothing to do with not loving Hannah. Or Daddy or Hannah's sisters. It had to do with not utilizing the abundance of help around her. In Mama's case, perhaps she simply could not do it, and even as it broke Hannah's heart to realize that, it also freed her heart to not just forgive her mother's actions but to love her.

"Wait. I did what my mother did?" A flush of panic shot through her body. She knew the fuzzy glow wouldn't last long in her. Gritting her teeth, she lunged for the phone.

"Bartlett Bachelor Pad, Soccer King speaking."

"Sam!"

"Hannah! I...I thought it was Hunter calling. Payt said he could come over tonight. And that we'd pitch a tent in the living room. And he-Hunter, that is-was supposed to call me as soon as his dad got home and could bring him over." Her kid didn't come up for air once until he gulped and tacked on, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm I'm fine. I called to see how fine. I called to see how you you are." are."

"We're all fine. You want to talk to-"

"I didn't ask about all of you. I asked if you are okay. I called to talk to you you, Sam."

"You did?" His tone was hushed.

"Yes. I took off before you got home from school and didn't get to talk to you. I feel just rotten about that."

"That's okay. I expected you and Payt to be gone when I got out of school anyway."

"Is Payt taking it hard? My up and leaving on the vacation alone, I mean."

"I don't know. Want to ask him?"

"No! I don't want to talk to anyone else until I'm sure you and I are okay."

"Okay?"

"You know, like Hannah and Samuel."

"Yeah?"

"I think I can find a Bible in the drawer of the nightstand. Hold on." The wood groaned then pitched forward. Hannah had to lurch to keep it from plummeting to the floor, but she did and she found the Bible.

"How come you didn't take a Bible with you?" Sam asked as he waited.

"Because..." Because I had fixated on the running away part of this adventure, not on the refilling the well part Because I had fixated on the running away part of this adventure, not on the refilling the well part. "Okay, here's the part I want to share with you. Are you listening?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's First Samuel, chapter one, verses twenty-seven and twenty-eight, if you want to, look it up for yourself while I'm gone and feel closer to me."

"Uh...okay."

You don't have to, she almost hurried to add. But she didn't. She let it go, satisfied that she had given him the idea and he might take some comfort in it. "Here's the verse. It's Hannah talking about her love and hopes for her Samuel. 'I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.' Do you understand that?"

"Not exactly."

"Yeah, it's kind of hard, I admit. For me, for us, it's a reminder that Hannah loved and wanted her Samuel, but that she knew that in their life they couldn't always be together."

"Like us." He said it so softly that she knew he was thinking beyond the five-day vacation to a time when their family might be torn apart by his biological father.

"Yes," she whispered. "But like us, Hannah knew that the Lord loved Samuel and would never forsake him. Sam, I love you and want you to understand that my going today was about me, not you. You didn't do anything to cause me to run away. And I am coming back."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Sure. If it had been about me, you'd have called in my caseworker and I'd have gone to a shelter until my dad found someplace else for me to stay."

This kid understood rejection, the real thing, on a level that she never could.

"Besides, you left me with Aunt Phiz and Payt and Squirrelly Girl and Tessa."

"Aww, you couldn't put your baby sister before the dog?"

"Maybe when she starts talking and can say my name. That'll be cool."

"Yeah, that'll be cool." And Hannah would do everything within her power to make sure Sam stayed with them until Tessa not only said his name, but talked his ears off and beyond.

"Can I go now?" The whine of restlessness came through the line loud and clear. "As soon as Hunter comes over, we're going to pop popcorn and watch a movie."

"Popcorn?" She envisioned her plump stuffed frogs flatter than week-old roadkill. "What popcorn?"

"She wants to know what popcorn?" He didn't bother to cover the mouthpiece as he shouted out and got his reply. "Payt says to tell you no beanbag frogs were harmed in the making of this snack food."

"Very funny."

"You want to talk to him?"

"Depends. Is he willing to talk to me?"

Sam relayed the question. "He says 'always.'"

"Then tell him I don't need to talk to him right now. I still have to finish my column."

"Hey, good thing you have the Bible there. You can spend all night looking for the Book of Procrastinations."

"Go watch your movie, Sam. Love you."

"Yeah." And he hung up.

Hannah exhaled and stretched her legs out on the bed. Sam had been teasing her, but he did make a good point. She could, and probably should, spend the evening in the Word. But like too often in her life, she didn't have the time. She had to settle for a quick fix. She smoothed her fingers over the words of Hannah's prayer and muttered, "Peace. Be..."

It is not by strength that one prevails.

The simple line jumped from the page at her, and she hurried to turn the page back to the beginning of the segment.

"Do not keep talking so proudly..."

Listen to yourself, not everything is about you.

"...or let your mouth speak such arrogance."

"I write to communicate real problems of modern motherhood-silliness is not a part of it."

"For the Lord is a G.o.d who knows, and by Him deeds are weighed."

She closed the book slowly. "G.o.d knows and weighs my deeds."

Not Payt.

Not Lauren Faison, genuinely nice Supermom.

Not nameless letter writers or self-naming decorating sister duos.

Not even her minister.

Or her family.

"It's not my job to work for their approval but to be like Hannah who gave her beloved Samuel to the Lord. It's my life's work to never stop striving to become the woman G.o.d needs me to be."

She was needed, after all. Needed to be Hannah.

Wow. It all seemed so simple. Too simple, really.

Be the woman G.o.d needed her to be.

"But who is that, Lord?"

Wife?

Mother?

Daughter?

Sister?

Writer?

Volunteer?

"All of the above," she murmured as it dawned on her that it wasn't the role she chose or the work she did. It was the way she loved others-the way G.o.d wanted her to love them-that counted. The way she loved them them, not how much-or even if-they loved her.

Thinking that made her feel so...stupid.

And corny.

And warm.

And happy.

Happy happy. happy.