Minutes past. Maybe lots of them. There was no relevance of time as I sat on the edge of my hotel bed.
Quinn had left and I needed to stumble to the bathroom and get ready for the dinner party. Except, I didn’t want to go anymore.
Even though Dean wouldn’t be there I still didn’t want to go.
Thankfully a stronger part of me stepped forward. Quinn needed my help. The dinner party could possibly be the key to unlocking this mystery. Jane’s party was the first vision I had received for Quinn. I stumbled into the moist bathroom with his masculine scent lingering in the air.
Hanging in the same spot where I had hung his new clothes earlier was a beautiful red party dress. I closed my eyes allowing the emotions I felt wearing it earlier creep over me. What do I do with these feelings God? Am I allowed to have them? I know Mitch is gone and he is never coming back. I do know that. Tell me please God ... are my feelings for Quinn real or are they planted so I will help him?
Behind my closed eyelids, I felt heat flush my face. Help him? Have I helped him or have I made everything worse?
The strange thing about anger is that it can blow away confusion and despair. It is a powerful emotion. I never asked for this – any of this. God decided somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean to turn me into a Secret Spiritual Operative in His grand plan for Quinn. I am not a psychic and I never asked for the visions.
God gave them.
So, why couldn’t He do it again? I knelt down on the damp tub rug and pressed my trembling hands to my face. Lord, I don’t know what to do next. Please guide me just like you are guiding Quinn. Show me what I am supposed to do with this man that you have placed in my life. He is creating a greater ache than I had before I came here.
There. I have done all that I can. The rest is up to Him.
Climbing into the hot shower, I hoped to soon feel like a new woman. A redeemed and renewed woman. God could wash away all my thoughts that would never be filed under honouring. He could trade my guilt, shame and regret for peace and joy. Instead of feeling like an adulterer, I can feel like a woman with another chance at love.
I had been praying for three years for God to take away my need for Mitch. For years I longed to be released from my ache to be held by Mitch just one more time. For another chance to feel his hands on my face as they wipe away my tears with his strong and capable hands.
Slowly as the water cleansed, the Spirit caressed my hurting heart. I was becoming lost in the need for another man to touch me. To hold me. Is God replacing one for another? Can I really be feeling what I am for Quinn? Soon the stream of cleansing water felt alive and vibrant against my skin.
An image of the adulterous woman from the bible filled my mind. She had lived an inappropriate lifestyle and she going to be stoned for her indiscretions. Jesus stepped in and with a strong and capable hand, drew a line in the sand. As his finger drug through the dirt causing debris to scatter, his eyes rested on the maiden.
Perhaps his eyes softened and his mouth curved into a smile that only she could see. I pictured it would be like the sly little smile that creeps across Quinn’s face when his eyes say to me don’t worry.
Then Jesus challenged anyone who was innocent – without sin – to begin the stoning. No one moved from their post. Slowly, one by one, their rocks fell to the ground as each man's shame came to the forefront.
Jesus had made his point. Her sin was no different than any of theirs. Her inappropriate desires that had led her down the wrong paths were no different in Jesus’ eyes than the greedy practices of a crazed mobster, or the anger issues of a disgruntled father, or the vengeful thoughts of a young child. We are all the same in His eyes.
As I let the Saviour wash me with his cleansing images I was reminded of an Old Testament verse. God will take the ashes and turn them into beauty, take the sorrow and turn it into joy, and even take the night and turn it to dawn.
Refreshed and refilled I exited the shower and dressed into my ankle length denim skirt with my long sleeve, embroderied blouse over top. I rejoiced in the image of Jesus’ sly little smile that let my heart hope for a day of redemption and renewal. A new beginning. A second chance.
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