She did the best she could (5)

So… we’re getting to the end  of the story! Thanks for following, so far.

This is the fifth part of the story, she did the best she could.

Read the first part here.

Read the second part here.

Read the third part here.

Read the fourth part here. 


Something was out of place somewhere in his mind, or he wouldn’t be comprehending the showers as heaven crying for him.

And the fact that there had been no indication of rain even five minutes earlier only cemented the notion in his mind. It was useless to try to remind himself that he’d lived in that area nearly all his life, and that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the weather to turn suddenly, without warning ─ even in a person’s life. Or a family.

Just look what happened to them.

The church secretary said they would go in his car because she didn’t like driving in the rain.

That brought the plan forming in his mind to an abrupt stop. Although the pull to know the truth was strong, he was also seriously concerned about the effect and impact it would have on his already disarrayed life. So by the time they got to his car, he had already decided to drive away and never return, unless God sent him a sign.

OK, so she no longer liked driving in the rain ─ but he had never liked driving with her! It’s like car rides turned her into another person ─ the lady never stopped talking, and mostly about what you had no idea about!

That was not the sign he had in mind when he asked the Lord for a sign. The lightning and thunder that split the skies in that moment erased whatever objections still remained in his mind ─ these were no ordinary showers. Heaven was weeping for him.

He regarded her for only a brief instant, trying to decide on a course of action, and realized his mistake almost immediately. He couldn’t leave her in the rain and just drive away ─ this woman who had been there when no one else was. Plus, for the first time, he noticed how frail and tired she looked.

As he got in the car, he sent a desperate cry for help to heaven, “Please Lord, help!”

He had no idea what the help would look like, because as soon as he began to drive, she went off, talking mostly about what he had no idea about.

And then he got out of the car, only to meet his mother in the house! Nobody said anything about that turn of events ─ the weather had turned for him, suddenly and without warning.

How was that even possible, after all that had already happened!

When he left the house the previous day, the one thing he was certain of was that until the situation was fixed to a certain level of clarity, he wasn’t coming in the presence of his mother.

Apparently, they both met weekly to pray. And they were meeting today ─ a fact the secretary had conveniently forgotten to tell him. Either that, or she truly wasn’t aware they had been that long at the church and time was already far spent.

He excused himself, promising to come back another time, but they said the weather was too bad to drive in.

They did have a point, but what did they expect him to do? Join them in their prayers? “Lord, please help! Really!”

As the showers continued to pour and more heavily, he wondered how much trouble he was in to warrant that much weeping. He didn’t have to wonder for too long though after they cut off the electricity and his mother began to light candles and arrange chairs for three people. There was just two of them, and except they were expecting another person ─ which was very unlikely, considering the weather ─ his mother expected him to join them.

That was a problem.

That was a big part of what was wrong with this whole situation.

You know how they say ‘mother always knows best’? ─ well, that is a problem! From where he stood, at least.

Was it too much to expect that she’d at least ask if he wanted to join them, before setting up chairs and lighting candles for him?

She always knew best, and look where it landed them as family!

“Why are you even here?” he heard himself blurt out before he had time to rein his rising rage in.

“You might hate me”, she told him, “but I have a prayer meeting with the Lord and my sister, and you won’t take this time from me”.

“Hate you?” What was she talking about! He didn’t hate her. He just wanted answers. He told her so, but probably not with the right words because she screamed her next words at him ─

“Then sit, or get out”, she told him, “For once in your life, make it easy for us and make a choice!”

Then she stomped to the kitchen and began to rummage through cupboards, slamming the doors with too much fervor than was absolutely necessary.

It didn’t make any sense. Why was his mother in this woman’s kitchen, rummaging through her cupboards and slamming the doors? After everything that had already happened, how is this possible?

The church secretary who had been standing by quietly the whole time, probably praying ─ because those mutterings could not have been incantations ─ motioned for him to sit down.

He regarded the seat she had pointed to like it was the thing that would finally unravel whatever was left of his life. The other alternative was to leave. And he was seriously considering it.

The rain had eased up. He needed to get back to the office, and especially in touch with his wife who might be worried sick by now. And he still didn’t have that much clarity to be in the presence of his mother. Plus, who knew what she was up to in that kitchen still banging cupboard doors!

When he didn’t take the seat, the secretary got up and started to leave for the kitchen, but not before she told him, “Listen to your mother and make up your mind”.

That did it! He was tired of being told to ‘Listen to your mother’ every time. He was going home, picking up the pieces and starting over. This time, not even his wife could bring him back here. And he would do his best to not think of his father.

As he turned to leave, the secretary told him, “You blame her for everything but you forget that most women would do what they can to save their marriage if they thought it was threatened”.

He was lost and did not even try to hide the fact.

“Ask your wife when you get home”, she told him and walked away.

“Ask her what?” No response.

“Ask her what?”

He could go to the kitchen to find out, or he could walk out of the house and continue with the plan to start over.

The pull on both ends was so strong, he could physically feel the final pieces of his life coming apart.

Leaning on the door, he sent up one more cry for help, “So is the help coming? Please Lord!”

Read the final part here. 

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32 thoughts on “She did the best she could (5)”

  1. Boma, thank you for linking up at Friday Fellowship! Ok, you got me hooked on the line…I’m going to have to come back when I can read through all the previous posts! Pinned! Come back and link up again this Friday. 🙂

  2. This is such a touching story, Boma! I am your neighbor over at #LMMLinkup this week, but it was for a different part of the installment, and I couldn’t just leave it there! Eager to read more! Blessings to you!


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