Day 31 - Loose Ends Are Really Just a New Beginning

"We've only just begun ..." The Carpenters

The next day, bright and early, I started out for Sister Clara’s house. I practiced in my mind the words I would say to apologize, but when I saw her sitting on her porch, same as always, I raced up the path and bounded onto the porch. Skidding to a stop, I fell to my knees and cried, “Sister Clara, can you ever forgive me?”

“Why, honey, I forgave you a long time ago. My! It’s so good to see you! Come over here and give me a hug.”

Next thing you know, I was seated at her table enjoying some fabulous chocolate chip cookies, just like when I was a kid. Except now, I was offered coffee, instead of milk.

We talked for hours. I told her everything, even up to and including stealing the secretary’s idea at the ad agency.

“Honey, there isn’t a thing here that can’t be forgiven. Just give it to Jesus and tell Him you are sorry; and you won’t ever do it again.”

“I did, Sister Clara, I asked Him for forgiveness before I became conscious.”

“Now, He might ask you to make restitution to the secretary – you just pray about it and see what He says.”

Seated back on the front porch by now, Sister Clara rocked awhile, then suddenly leaned forward. “Child, I want to tell you something.”

“Back when Rose was alive, we prayed for you.”

“You did? What did you pray?” figuring I knew the answer to my question.

“We prayed for the Lord to redeem Rose’s family – every one of them and to raise up a voice to touch others for Jesus in every generation starting with you, Morgan.”

Tears came to my eyes, “I know … The Lord let me see a picture of you and Grandma praying. But Mom accepted Christ in my hospital room, so there’s no one else in my family to be  redeemed.”

Rose just smiled knowingly, “Well the main thing, Morgan, is to be willing to tell what the Lord has done for you. He will send who He wants to hear.”

Glancing at my watch, I said, “Look at the time. Jamie is coming over tonight for “cards and conversation,” she said. Before she gets there, Mom has promised to show me pictures of my father.”

“Come back soon,” Sister Clara called as I made my way to the sidewalk, “Don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll be back soon,” I promised.

When I got back home, I found Mom sitting at the dining room table with a box full of pictures and letters. She looked up at me, smiling with tears pooled in her eyes, and handed me a photo.

I took the photo and stared into a face that was the masculine version of my own, except he looked devastatingly handsome.

“You look just like him,” Mom said softly. “It’s a blessing but it was also a reminder of what I’d lost,” she worked to keep her voice calm, “and that was also a reminder to your grandparents what they had lost.”

Puzzled, I looked at Mom. “Grandma Rose was that attached to my father?”

“No, I’m talking about your other grandparents, the Morgans.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at her. “You mean they are still alive? They’re still here?”

“Yes, they are alive. I would say alive and well, but if anyone was more bitter than me, it would be them. They didn’t want to believe you were Joe Lee’s child, but when they saw you looked just like him, they didn’t want to associate with you because of what Bobby had done. They were afraid I’d want money, so they cut themselves off from everyone and lived like hermits.”

Mom proudly raised her chin, “I never took one cent from them. I raised you myself. I might not have done it right, but I did it without their help!”

Shaking my head, I murmured, “It’s all so sad ….”

“Yes it is, honey, Look, here are some letters with your dad’s handwriting on them.”

With her approval, I started reading one, but after a minute, I handed it back, “These are too sacred and tender for me to read. Maybe later, but I just can’t handle it right now.”

Mom smiled, “That’s got to be a first – someone refusing to read private love letters. I’ll put them up for now. They are not going anywhere.”

Just then, Jamie came in carrying boxes of pizza and my favorite peanut butter bars she always made for our card parties.

Later, when we were in a food coma and idly looking at the cards dealt each of us, Jamie dropped a bombshell – well, actually two bombshells, one inadvertently, but she meant to tell of the first one.

“I told you yesterday, Morgan, that there is more to tell of the story, and that I would start the ball rolling.”

Looking at Mom, she asked, “You didn’t tell her yet, did you?”

Mom shook her head, “Nope, that part of the story is yours to tell.”

Jamie started out calmly, “Honey, when you asked me if you could come live with me, I didn’t tell you all of the reasons why it wouldn’t be a good idea. I did promise your grandmother I’d always be there for Sharon, and I did feel it would be too hurtful for Sharon for you to abandon her and move in with me. But there was another reason.”

“I had told you your mom and I were best friends in high school.  What I didn’t tell you was that we were best friends who both fell in love with boys on the football team.”

“Best friends fell in love with boys who were not only best friends to each other, but cousins. We were like a tight foursome.”

“You see, that day Bobby shot and killed Joe Lee, he also killed my boyfriend. Remember, I told you the coach, Joe Lee and a boy named Darren died?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Jamie’s voice got a little quivery, “Well, Darren McCloud was Joe Lee’s cousin, and I was in love with him. And, except for the fact I didn’t get pregnant, your mom’s story could have been mine.”

She pulled a snapshot from her pocket and handed it to me. I stared at it a long time, then said, “I don’t understand? He looks like Joe Lee.”

Mom said, “The Morgan genes are very strong. Joe Lee’s daddy and his aunt, Dee McCloud, looked just alike. Joe Lee and Darren looked just alike. And you look like them all.”

Jamie chimed in, “Then throw in the fact your voice sounds exactly like Joe Lee’s mama’s voice – no one could deny who you were. Unfortunately, we all just wanted to forget what Bobby had done.”

“So now, you’re telling me that just like Mom, when you looked at me, you only saw a lost love instead of a little girl.”

They both started crying, “Forgive us, it was dumb. We really do love you,” as somehow we all ended up in a group hug.

After many tears were shed, Mom sniffled and said, “So, you see, Morgan, Mom and Clara’s prayer for you to reach our family for redemption still needs to be answered. The Morgans, and the McClouds who are just as broken and bitter as your grandparents, need Jesus; and maybe you are the only one who could reach them!”

And Jamie quietly said, “And don’t forget Bobby. Rose would want you to minister to Bobby.”

I stared at her in shock. “You mean, Bobby is alive? I assumed he died in the electric chair.”

Mom sighed, “No, he was found temporarily insane while committing the shooting, so he was sentenced to life in prison.”

“I wanted him to rot in hell, but after all these years, my heart tells me Jesus wants to save him … and I can’t help but feel you should be the one to tell him.”

They both looked at me with their hearts in their eyes. "Well, I don't know," I hedged ... "I'll have to do some deep praying about this. I'm never taking a step again without talking to the Lord first."

Jamie smiled, "The I know what the answer will be!"

We are on Day 31 of my serial, Angel on Assignment: The Book of Morgan. Morgan's story is not done! Stay tuned in the coming weeks to learn more.

If you have missed any of the previous posts, click on the title, "Angel on Assignment" in the upper right hand corner in my side bar. It will take you to a page where you can find all links as they go live.

This serial is not intended to be doctrine. Scripture does tell us angels come to warn, bring messages and sometimes watch over us. It also tells us we could possibly unknowingly entertain an angel. My serial is just me imagining how that might look in our present day and time.

This post was written as part of the Write 31 Days challenge. A whole group of writers will be writing for 31 days straight on a variety of topics. Click here to check it out.

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