Read Online Redemption by Karen Kingsbury - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Kingsbury
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, General Fiction, Family Life, Domestic Fiction, Christian fiction, Religious, Christian, Married People, Adultery
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doctor...."
He hesitated and leaned forward, the weight of his concern for Kari more than he could straighten up under.
"But this, whatever has Kari so upset... I don't know how I'm going to fix it, God. I don't know how I'm even going to help."
John closed his eyes and waited on the Lord, deliberately loosening his clenched fists, listening intently for the familiar still, small voice.
Almost immediately a verse came to mind ... his life verse, really. Psalm 73:26.
The one that had always come to him whenever he reached the end of himself, when his need for a Savior
53
was greatest of all: My flesh and my heart may ail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
John repeated the words again and again, letting the meaning wash over him. "I understand." He whispered the words as a tear made its way down the day's growth of beard on his face. "I can't do anything this time. You will be the strength-not just of my heart, but of Kari's also."
Though John was prepared to spend more time in prayer, he felt a sudden urgency to go home. He stood and glanced at his schedule. It was his light day, and his patients were scheduled only until two o'clock that afternoon. He picked up the phone and within minutes had the appointments covered. Then he left the office and headed for his car, begging God that whatever had happened between Kari and Tim, they could overcome it as a couple.
Kari was sure she had gained her composure by the time she walked in the door of the Baxter home at nine-thirty that morning. But the moment she felt her mother's arms around her, the sobs that had gradually subsided rose again and spilled over. "Mom . . . you won't . . . believe it. . . ." Deep, gut-wrenching convulsions pummeled her body, doubling her over and causing her to gasp for breath. Help me, God, I'm losing control.
"Kari-" Her mother's voice was sharp, loud, as it had been when Kari was a small girl and had gotten in trouble for something. "It's okay. Whatever it is, we can get through it."
No, it's not okay. I won't get through it . . . not ever. The sobs continued, and between breaths she caught sight of her mother's pale face.I'm . sorry. ...
I can't. . . help it."
Finally her mother led her gently by the arm into the front room, which was just off the foyer. As they sat on the old flowered sofa, Kari felt the slightest bit of calm come over her. Help me, Lord. ... I can't breathe.
Don't be afraid. ... I am with you.
54
Kari exhaled, and the sense of panic eased some. In its place was a nausea that she knew could be resolved only one way. "Wait . . ." She darted through the house and barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Her stomach convulsed again and again as she lost the small amount of food she'd eaten that morning. When she was finished, she felt worse, not better, and more tears coursed down her face. She was sick of crying, but she couldn't stop.
She rinsed out her mouth, clutched her sides, and made her way slowly back to the front room.
Both her parents were waiting for her. Her father must have had someone take over his patients for the day. Typical. He had left work early other times, too, for one family crisis or another. It was his way of letting them know they always came first with him.
Her father stood to meet her. "Kari." She raised her eyes to his and saw that his face was lined with concern. He held his arms out toward her, and Kari went to him, needing his touch, yet racked with guilt for upsetting her parents. I shouldn't be here. It's not their problem.
Her father's silent reassurance was so strong that for the first time Kari had a sense she would survive. She allowed herself to be lost in her daddy's arms, sobbing as if she might never stop. This time, though, the hysteria was gone. In its place was a sadness deeper than a canyon.
"It's okay, honey." Her mother reached up and took Kari's hand. "You go ahead and cry. We're here . . . whenever you're ready to talk."
Kari cried for
He hesitated and leaned forward, the weight of his concern for Kari more than he could straighten up under.
"But this, whatever has Kari so upset... I don't know how I'm going to fix it, God. I don't know how I'm even going to help."
John closed his eyes and waited on the Lord, deliberately loosening his clenched fists, listening intently for the familiar still, small voice.
Almost immediately a verse came to mind ... his life verse, really. Psalm 73:26.
The one that had always come to him whenever he reached the end of himself, when his need for a Savior
53
was greatest of all: My flesh and my heart may ail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
John repeated the words again and again, letting the meaning wash over him. "I understand." He whispered the words as a tear made its way down the day's growth of beard on his face. "I can't do anything this time. You will be the strength-not just of my heart, but of Kari's also."
Though John was prepared to spend more time in prayer, he felt a sudden urgency to go home. He stood and glanced at his schedule. It was his light day, and his patients were scheduled only until two o'clock that afternoon. He picked up the phone and within minutes had the appointments covered. Then he left the office and headed for his car, begging God that whatever had happened between Kari and Tim, they could overcome it as a couple.
Kari was sure she had gained her composure by the time she walked in the door of the Baxter home at nine-thirty that morning. But the moment she felt her mother's arms around her, the sobs that had gradually subsided rose again and spilled over. "Mom . . . you won't . . . believe it. . . ." Deep, gut-wrenching convulsions pummeled her body, doubling her over and causing her to gasp for breath. Help me, God, I'm losing control.
"Kari-" Her mother's voice was sharp, loud, as it had been when Kari was a small girl and had gotten in trouble for something. "It's okay. Whatever it is, we can get through it."
No, it's not okay. I won't get through it . . . not ever. The sobs continued, and between breaths she caught sight of her mother's pale face.I'm . sorry. ...
I can't. . . help it."
Finally her mother led her gently by the arm into the front room, which was just off the foyer. As they sat on the old flowered sofa, Kari felt the slightest bit of calm come over her. Help me, Lord. ... I can't breathe.
Don't be afraid. ... I am with you.
54
Kari exhaled, and the sense of panic eased some. In its place was a nausea that she knew could be resolved only one way. "Wait . . ." She darted through the house and barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Her stomach convulsed again and again as she lost the small amount of food she'd eaten that morning. When she was finished, she felt worse, not better, and more tears coursed down her face. She was sick of crying, but she couldn't stop.
She rinsed out her mouth, clutched her sides, and made her way slowly back to the front room.
Both her parents were waiting for her. Her father must have had someone take over his patients for the day. Typical. He had left work early other times, too, for one family crisis or another. It was his way of letting them know they always came first with him.
Her father stood to meet her. "Kari." She raised her eyes to his and saw that his face was lined with concern. He held his arms out toward her, and Kari went to him, needing his touch, yet racked with guilt for upsetting her parents. I shouldn't be here. It's not their problem.
Her father's silent reassurance was so strong that for the first time Kari had a sense she would survive. She allowed herself to be lost in her daddy's arms, sobbing as if she might never stop. This time, though, the hysteria was gone. In its place was a sadness deeper than a canyon.
"It's okay, honey." Her mother reached up and took Kari's hand. "You go ahead and cry. We're here . . . whenever you're ready to talk."
Kari cried for
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