Book 4 Part 7

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David and I talked about my lost feeling. He assured me that once we found a church home I would feel more grounded. With a church would come ministry opportunities. He also suggested that I might want to volunteer at the boys' school. We discussed the possibility of my returning to teaching now that Zach was in school, but I wasn't sure that teaching was the answer. A teacher's hours would be the same as those of the boys, but I knew from experience that classroom hours weren't the only hours a teacher spent doing her job. I wanted my evenings free to spend with my children. About the only solid conclusion we reached was that we would need to invest in a second vehicle so that I would have wheels, other than roller blades.

Unfortunately, the search for a church home proved protracted. The college president suggested to David that we visit all of the churches in town before making a selection. He thought our presence in the various churches would be good P.R. for the college. While this may have been so, it prolonged my feeling of disconnection.

When we finally did join a church after four months, we discovered that David was a terrible church member. He had trouble listening to someone else preach. Instead of allowing God to revive his spirit, David had a tendency to critique the sermon. No matter how hard he tried to turn off the inner critic, he failed. When the opportunity came to serve as interim in a pastorless church, he jumped at the chance. The boys and I stayed behind. Our rationale was good, but in hindsight, it may have been flawed. We decided that the boys needed continuity. They needed to build friendships with other children from Christian homes. We believed that developing peer relationships was more important than worshipping together as a family. This decision laid the groundwork for separate ministries. Looking back, I believe we were out of God's will in this decision. I don't know if we should've moved from interim to interim with David or if he should've turned down interim opportunities in order to give his sons continuity and a unified family worship experience. I am convinced that one or the other was God's perfect will for our marriage.

At the time, this period of ministry separation seemed to be the right decision. For years it appeared to work. It was like my earring, lost in plain sight.

When I was in the late stages of my pregnancy with Faith, we took the boys to my parents' home for a protracted visit with their grandparents. They would bring the boys back when I went into labor. After we returned home, I discovered that one of my earrings was missing. I searched the house and the car. I called my parents and had them search there. The earring was gone. After a week, David bought me a new pair. He knew from experience that I would resist an identical pair. Instead he bought one with grape leaves forming a circle.

"It's like our love," he told me. "The leaves and the vine form a continuous loop. Our love feeds on itself. It's an unending circle that's strong and enduring."

Sadly, I donned the replacement earrings. Despite David's words, my heart ached for the loss of my roses. Somehow the new earrings didn't look right. For David's sake, I pretended that his gesture was enough, but we both knew it wasn't. In my heart, I hoped for a miracle restoration. I even checked the bottoms of all of our sneakers. When we talked to the boys, I challenged them.

"Search around grandma's house. If you find my earring, I'll pay you ten dollars."

I figured they would look harder if I promised a reward. Mama told me that the promise was an effective stimulus. They searched every inch of her house. They even crawled around the yard and sifted through the gravel in the driveway, but no earring.

Three months later, Zach was strapping Faith's car-seat in the back of the vehicle. He straightened up with a wide grin on his face.

"Is that earring reward still good?" he asked.

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