4 YEARS LATER
Cynthia smiled into space, her eyes still stayed on a woman disappearing out of sight four blocks away. She was one of nine young and middle-aged women.
Cindy’s Glow™, a thriving residential interior design business with two full-time employees besides Miss Proprietor, had recently signed an unexpected contract with a women’s rehab center. Oh, God had been faithful, and she’d not been wrong a year back when the awareness began to take hold of her heart about a special purpose—encouraging young women to pursue God with their all.
She’d thought it was a mere desire stemming from her three-year-old experience, but the persistent desire had birthed a growing YouTube Channel and a blog, whose positive reception further supplied building blocks for the passion to flourish. Now, this contract cemented that belief.
The road had been long and not a few times torturous. Her once atrophied muscles, a result of lack of parental guidance earlier on, had now developed into enormous sizes through a process of rigorous work year after year. Many a night, she’d broken down and sobbed away her lungs. A fearful mother, a skeptical father, and gossipy friends, she endured the pain in silence.
But then something happened—a heightened awareness of God’s presence she’d never known. Having been flung into a wilderness of a few to no genuine companions, she found in Him a refuge once despised. Yes, that kept her afloat when nothing else would. When everything around looked gloomy, a force stronger than herself held her spirit in place.
Put a gun to her head, and she would blurt out that the emotional and spiritual maturity was worth the pain.
She could write a book on the various encounters she’d had with homeowners and event planners, opportunities to share her faith without the fear of being busted by a head nurse or matron. And many of these home encounters were so unique and spectacular that she had, repeatedly, been wowed by the realization of being at the right place at the right time.
One other advantage she wouldn’t fail to celebrate was a tiny dream come true—a work-from-home wife and mother, and a work schedule she could control. Oh, how impossible she’d always thought to achieve that. Another dose of God’s unsolicited goodness.
But just where was her Mr. Right to give that picture a completion?
“Father, you told me to trust you with my dating life. It’s been four years. I’m not desperate, but I feel the need for a man in my life, a man after your own heart.”
Possessed by these memories, Cynthia did not notice the car that pulled up in front of her door. She was only brought back to present reality when a man stepped out and approached her on the porch.
Most of us can remember a moment we think we’re dreaming. Not only have we wished for something, and bingo, here it is, but we’ve also been stunned by the embodiment of the answer to that wish. And like Cynthia, perhaps, we don’t believe that the sight before us is that answer.
Frank? Oh, Father, this is not happening. I can’t have him back.
His slow footsteps up the porch halted at the last step where he stood before Cynthia, head bowed. She watched, dazed, with arms crossed over her bosom.
Frank cleared his throat but nothing came forth through his lips until about a minute later. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know much back then. I didn’t have the right priorities back then. As a Christian and as a future husband and father.”
Another silence followed spotted with Frank’s fumbling with a bunch of keys in hand. Cynthia said nothing.
“Cindy, I now know that one’s purpose is their noble profession. I now know better what to look for in a mate.”
“I’ve been through two unsuccessful relationships since we separated. I’ve been…”
If you were Cynthia, would you take Frank back?
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