The Do Over - Part 3 - The Cost of Grace

Part 3 - The Cost of Grace

 

Tony woke in the pre-morning darkness to the strange smell of coffee. Strange because he didn’t make it.  He always made the coffee. He always was the one to get up early. “What is going on now?” He thought to himself.

 

Chrissy had been acting awfully strange lately. Her moods, which were always a bit of an extreme, were now off the charts.  Tony smiled at the thought of the feisty young woman he married. Then his brow furrowed with that worried look that he wore so often in recent days as he walked into the kitchen and saw Chrissy slouching over the counter near the coffee pot.

 

“Hey whatcha doin’ up so early?” Tony asked softly, feeling like he was walking on eggshells. As Chrissy straightened up and turned to look at him, he noticed how dark and haggard her eyes looked.

 

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would make you some coffee,” Chrissy replied with a groggy rasp to her voice. Then grinned. “And me some too.”

 

That just didn’t sit right with Tony. “Chrissy, what is going on?? I am getting really worried about you. Look, I know I may not be the best listener out there. But you are my wife, and you can talk to me.”

 

Chrissy shook her head trying to wake up enough to have a coherent conversation. “I know, I know . . . it’s just so hard to explain. I am not sure I even believe it myself. I am going to try to talk it over with Rosy and maybe that will help and you won’t have to be so worried, once I just figure this out.” Her words got softer until they were but a mere whisper.

 

“Who’s Rosy?”

 

“A sweet dear patient of mine.”

 

“What? I’m right here. Chrissy talk to me.” Tony was getting frustrated.

 

Chrissy looked at him, pleading with her eyes to understand, “I hit someone with my car.”

 

“Oh my God!” Tony started to frantically look around the room, for what? A cop standing outside the door? Legal paperwork on the counter? Blood?

 

“And I hit the neighbor’s mailbox,” Chrissy continued in a monotone drone. “I spent most of our ‘fun-time’ money from the jar and” Chrissy’s voice choked a bit, “I purposefully refused to make you dinner.”

 

Tony was completely baffled by this list of confessions. None of this made any sense.

 

Then Chrissy looked straight at him, “Or maybe not. Maybe none of those things happened. I did them, I remember each one, but then it was all wiped away like it never happened.”

 

She got this far away look, and then laughed a nervous little laugh, “An angel took it all away from me. An Angel, the one that I hit with my car, gave me a ‘do-over’.”

 

“An Angel??” Tony did not know what to respond to first.

 

“Look, I don’t really know. It was an amazing presence that was standing right in front of, or maybe all around me. All I know is he said I had something I had to do for God. I guess it is my penance to replace all the horrible stuff I did that day.”

 

“God? Is that why you wanted to go to church Sunday?”

 

Chrissy nodded her head.

 

Tony was struggling to find some logical thing to grab a hold of.

 

“Look, I . . . I don’t know what to make of all this either. But I am sure you must have been dreaming. Angels aren’t real, not like that anyway. You’ve been making me some fine dinners. There’s money in the money jar. And you know our neighbors would have been all up in our business,” Tony strained to look out the front window across to the neighbor’s yard as he finished with, “if that mailbox had even a slight scratch on it.”

 

It sounded reasonable to him. He just needed Chrissy to buy in to that logic. He could then go to work knowing he had fixed his broken wife.

 

Tony drew her close as Chrissy started to cry, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I need to talk to Rosy.”

 

“Hey, think about it. Can’t you even admit that it is possible this is a dream? None of those things happened and you have not been getting enough sleep lately.  You know, lack of sleep can cause all kinds of problems.” Tony was hoping against hope that he was making sense to Chrissy.

 

 “Just promise me you will consider the option that this is just a dream,” Tony pleaded.

 

Chrissy was so tired. So tired of all the weight and worry. It was a bit of a relief to share this with someone, even if it did get rejected. She knew that he would not rest until she was ok. So despite her internal clockwork that wanted to prove her point, she wearily just nodded her head.

 

“That’s my girl,” Tony cleared his throat and went for the coffee. “Hey, thanks for making me coffee! You’re just the best wife ever.” He grinned as he went to get ready for work.

 

“Hey don’t forget you’re on your own for dinner. I have the late shift today.” Chrissy called after him.

 

“Maybe Rosy can help me tonight, I sure hope so . . .” she finished in a quiet mutter to herself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Tony could not shake the feeling all day at work. He kept telling himself this was nothing. This was a woman thing, getting overly excited over a dream. All this talk of Angels and God and crazy fantastical stories, it was too much. 

 

He believed in God as much as the next person. He grew up in Sunday School and his parents would attend church now and then. He believed in the golden rule and the Ten Commandments. He believed in keeping his word, his promises.

 

Yet, deep inside he knew why this was really bothering him . . . his Uncle Bert. He had really liked hanging out with his uncle on his dad’s side growing up. They went camping together. Went on a few fishing trips. Uncle Bert had even gotten him started with Scouts.  But after the “change” in their family, Scouts, fishing with Uncle Bert and the rest went by the wayside.

 

They say he caught the “religious fever.” Bert had some kind of amazing experience with God and was never the same. You couldn’t talk to him long without him bringing up the name of Jesus. There would be this glow about him when he started talking about his faith.

 

But the family did not like this “new” Bert. Uncle Bert became less and less welcome at family functions, until he never showed up again. 

 

Man, Tony couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to, much less seen Uncle Bert. He would get Christmas Cards from him. And Bert did come to their wedding. For a moment, at the wedding, there was this connection once again with him and it seemed like old times. At least until his dad, who had been utilizing the free bar at the reception quite a bit, had to bring up “Jesus.”

 

Tony shook his head to clear his mind and get it set on the task at hand. No, Chrissy was not going to go down that road. He would have to make sure of that. She was his responsibility. She was not going to get ostracized from the family because of some dream!

 

 “Can you really stop God once He has made his mind up?” came the annoying subtle thought, something Bert might have said to him once.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

       Chrissy arrived at work late that afternoon with anticipation running through her nerves. The hospital was all a bustle with changing shifts and nurses finishing up final reports and getting the new nurse up to date on all the details of their patients. Similarly, she was trying to listen to Simone, the CNA that she would be taking over for. But her mind was still adrift.

 

       “Get it together, Chrissy” She thought. “God experience or no, I still have a job to do.” .  .  .

 

       “Mr. Parker in 301 has been refusing to eat today. They sent me in there several times to just help feed him. He even tried to bite me.” Simone was chattering on and on. Chrissy managed a little sympathetic smile and nodded her head.

 

       “And Miss Rosy in 305, well the meds that they have put her on has not been agreeing with her today.” Simone’s words woke Chrissy up from her sheet she was pretending to read.

 

       “What about Miss Rosy? Is she ok now?”

 

       “Yeah, she has been complaining a little more than usual. You know how she tries not to say anything is bothering her. But I think it might just be registering for her that she is here for the long run. You know, everyone gets down when they realize the hospital might be their ‘new normal.’”

 

       The one thing that Chrissy did not like about the “long-term” wing is that the patients were usually a lot sicker. There were a lot of complications. And it hurt her to see her patients struggle.

 

All the more reason she wanted to be a full registered nurse to be able to do everything she could to help them out. She sincerely hoped that Miss Rosy was doing OK; and even selfishly hoping they might have a chance to talk.

 

       As Chrissy started her rounds, Mr. Parker did take a bit more time than she had anticipated. He was giving the nurses a hard time and they needed assistance getting him out of the bed and in a chair for a few hours anyway. It would do him good.

 

       Just as she was finally going to go check on Miss Rosy, she saw that the “help light” was illuminated over her door and the chiming sound that occurs when someone pushes the red help button was clanging through the hallways.

 

       She ran to the room and an offensive acrid odor accosted her at the door. She could hear poor Miss Rosy whimpering inside.

 

 “Oh No!” Chrissy thought. She knew exactly what this was. And steeled herself to go in. Chrissy had cleaned up her share of diarrhea messes over the years, some were not so bad, and some well . . . it was part of the job. She could tell by the look on Miss Rosy’s face and the look and the odor coming from her bed, this was a bad one.

 

She had been taught to handle situations like this with robot like mentality. You know the drill. Go through the steps. Be efficient. But she had one instructor/mentor say to her once, “When its bad, just focus on the task. When it’s really bad, focus on the patient.” What she meant was sometimes the best way was to look into the patient’s eyes and suffer with them while helping them.

 

This was one of those times.

 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Rosy was crying quietly over and over. Chrissy could feel her shame and understood the total loss of privacy this situation brings. Every thought in her mind went out the door, and her whole focus became Rosy.

 

“Miss Rosy, you are OK. We are going to take care of this. It will all get cleaned up in no time. Just trust me.” Chrissy leaned in and gave her a comforting touch on her shoulder.

 

“I tried, Miss Chrissy, I tried to get to the bathroom.  I could not and there wasn’t enough time to contact anyone before . . .” Miss Rosy bent her head in shame just crying.

 

As Chrissy surveyed the sticky mess in the bed. It was everywhere. The sheets, the floor, everything needed to be cleaned. She was going to need help.

 

Chrissy looked at the board, “Ah, TJ is on duty,” Chrissy gratefully acknowledged. TJ, that gentle giant. She was going to need muscle and he was just the one to do it. She quickly paged him to room 305 and he came within minutes.

 

The six foot, broad shouldered,  Jamaican nurse, with a heart of gold, did a slight double take at the door.  Then compassion filled his eyes as he came in to lift Miss Rosy up and reposition her as Chrissy moved the sheets with deft alacrity.

 

       It took a while of cleaning and wiping up and changing clothes, sheets, pillows, etc. But finally, Miss Rosy was in clean clothes and in a clean fresh bed. TJ excused himself to go tend to other patients, leaving Chrissy to finish up. 

.     Only the slight lingering smell that remained contrasted with the strong pine odor of the cleaning agents used on the floor, reminded them of what they had just been through.

 

       Rosy was still in quite a bout of despair, so out of character for her. But Chrissy understood. She guessed she would not get to talk about herself tonight but needed to focus on Miss Rosy.

 

       After a moment or two of silence Rosy finally spoke. There still was a catch in her throat as she talked. “Chrissy, you were amazing. I cannot tell you how much you helped me tonight.” Rosy was still having difficulty talking, but she continued.

 

       “There is nothing like old fashioned diarrhea to bring everyone down off of their high horse and feel filthy and disgusting.”

 

       “Oh Miss Rosy, don’t you think another thing about that. It is what I am trained to do,” said Chrissy as she was fluffing up another clean pillow to put under Miss Rosy’s head and make her as comfortable as she knew how.

 

       “No, I mean it Chrissy. You just dove into the muck and mess right there with me. There was nothing I could do but just let you take care of me. . . . And you did. No complaining, no muttering about how I could have prevented this. You just took care of me.”

 

       Rosy peered into Chrissy’s eyes, for the first time looking a bit like herself. “Chrissy this is a lesson for you.”

 

       “A lesson? I’m sorry Miss Rosy, did TJ or I mishandle you or rush you too much?” Chrissy reacted with alarm.

 

       “Oh no, dear, quite the opposite!  But as you were so quickly, kindly and effectively cleaning me up, it made me think of what Jesus does for us.” Rosy hesitated a bit.

 

       “Chrissy, I don’t want you to think of me this way, and it is awfully humiliating, but I feel that God wants to use this to tell you something. What you did tonight, is what Jesus does for all of us. He jumps into our lives no matter how filthy or disgusting.” Rosie paused.

     

       “Chrissy, Jesus loves us so much that He cleans us up and doesn’t think twice about it. His whole focus is love. His whole focus is us. It does not matter what we look like, or smell like, when we come to Him.

        Now we can fight Him and stay in our mess, like Mr. Parker there. I heard he bit Simone today, poor girl." Rosy shook her head a bit, "But Jesus comes to clean you and your very own mess and make you fresh and new.”

 

       “But,” Chrissy stammered out, with a bit of hope. Was God really answering her unasked questions? “What if I can’t do what He asks after He cleans up my mess?”

 

       “Oh dear, you can’t ever do what He asks,” Rosy said laughing for the first time that evening.

 

       “Umm . . .what? That doesn’t make sense.”

 

       “Look, Chrissy, whenever God asks us to do something, it is something that He has already set up to do in us and through us. It is His strength that we must rely on. Like tonight, you needed TJ. As much as you wanted to fix me, you couldn’t do it alone. You needed TJ’s help.”

 

       Chrissy still needed more, “What if I have no clue what I am supposed to do? What if I do it wrong? What if God finds out He picked the wrong person? What if I can’t be the person He wants me to be? . . . What if . . .”

     Her questions started tumbling out of her mouth. The dam had broken and there was no going back. “What if He goes back and changes His mind and I end up back in the mess I have been avoiding?”

 

       “What mess are you in, dear?” Rosy’s eyes softened as she looked at her young charge.

 

       “I hurt people. I get mad and I overreact, and I hurt people.” Chrissy replied truthfully.

 

       “Well, that sounds like a problem that only God can handle.

        But look, dear, when God steps into your life to do something. It is never about what we can do, or what we bring to Him. It is always about what He brings to us. We bring Him mess, and He cleans it up. No strings attached.”

 

       “Hmmm,” Chrissy sat down on the side of Rosy’s bed contemplating what she was saying. “That sounds a bit like what that Angel said to me.”

 

       “Angel?” It was Rosy’s turn to look a bit startled.

 

       “I know, it doesn’t sound real. I am not sure whether I even believe it myself. I thought you might understand and help me, but I guess . . .” Chrissy trailed off disappointed, even Rosy was doubting her – and she hadn’t even told her the worst part of it yet.

 

       Rosy reached out to her, “Oh its not that I don’t believe you, honey. Angels are real. Although I think it is rare to see one up close. I know I never have. . . . Tell me what happened.”

 

       And there on the bed, through the tears and the questions, Chrissy shared her experience with Rosy.

 

       A strange thing started to happen inside of Chrissy. As she was sharing the story and Rosy was asking good clarifying questions, a lifting of her spirit was taking place. She could almost feel her “soul” raise up off the floor, where it had been stamped on for so long. But the anchoring question remained . . .

 

       “What do I do, Rosy? What am I supposed to do? What does God want with me?” Chrissy knew she had passed professional a long time ago, but still was trying to keep from out and out sobbing.

 

       Rosy sat quiet a moment, then said, “You know there is a story in the Bible where this guy owed this great King a lot of money.  Probably what would be close to a million dollars in today’s terms, and he just had a blue-collar job. Can you imagine that?”

 

       “I have debt, but that is crazy.” Chrissy agreed.

 

       Rosie continued, “And the King called him into his presence because he wanted his money. The guy came trembling before him and kept begging him to give him one more chance to get the money for him. 

    The King saw the situation, knew the guy would never be able to take care of that kind of debt – and just said, ‘OK, you don’t owe me anything. You get to start over.’”

 

       “Wow,” said Chrissy, “that must have been a huge weight off of him!”

 

       “You would think so, wouldn’t you,” Rosy smiled wisely. “But no. He was still obsessed with getting the King that money back. It weighed on him and he tried to think of every conceivable avenue of money he could get his hands on. He even went on a vendetta against a friend that owed him like 50 bucks.”

 

       “Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. There was no way he could pay back a million dollars. 50 bucks wouldn’t get him very far.” Chrissy was perplexed at the stupidity of people.

 

       Rosie reached out again, “Chrissy, honey, that’s you.”  She let that sink into Chrissy’s startled face for a moment.

 

       “God didn’t give you that do-over as something that you had to pay for. You could never unhit a person, or undo any of the things you talked about. There will never be any way that you can fix that. But God did.”

        “Look at me Chrissy. God loves you and all your stinking mess.” Rosy gave a little smirk at that, “His goal is to help clean you up, by His power, not yours. You do not have to earn any of this. And God is NEVER going to take that gift away from you.”

 

       Rosy’s words started to penetrate Chrissy’s heart. Something seriously was happening inside her soul. She felt the joy, the freedom, start to rise. Even without all the answers.

As peace started flooding her soul, curiosity started overtaking the feeling of penance. “The Angel said God had a job for me. So what is it? What could I possibly do for Him?”

 

“Well, First things first. God says that our purpose is to honor His son Jesus. The way to do that is to get to know Him. Honey, Do you know Jesus?”

 

Chrissy was a little taken back, “Well, yeah. I’ve been to church. I’ve heard the stories. I know about Jesus.”

 

“No, I mean really know Him. Know the gift He gave to you. Not just the gift that Angel gave you for that one day.  Because let me tell you there will be other days when you need a do-over.

 And Jesus gave every single person on this planet the greatest do-over there is. 

His Blood.

It covers every single thing we have ever done wrong. Not just the biggies like hurting people or lying or stealing, but the thoughts that weigh us down, the selfish motives that lead to bad behaviors.

Jesus died on that Cross and rose again, so that we could have a do-over every minute of every day.

It just takes us to repent. To truly want a different life. To turn the sin over to Him and He pours into our lives His life and His joy and His peace.

It’s the great exchange.”

Rosy was whipping herself up sharing her faith with Chrissy.

 

Now she stopped and said, “Is that what you want, Chrissy? Do you want that great exchange? His life for yours? You don’t earn His do-overs in life. You just get to live those opportunities to its fullest.  Are you ready?”

 

“Yes, I am,” Chrissy amazed herself. Somehow in the middle of all that she got a glimpse of real faith. Her soul ached for the real freedom that comes from resting in the gift and not trying to earn it.

 

There in the hospital room, in the darkening phases of the night, Chrissy gave her life, her heart and her soul to her savior Jesus.

 

The joy that had been bubbling up during this conversation, the release of all the burden that she had been bearing, was now overflowing. 

 

She got it!

 

She felt it!

 

God was real. Jesus was real. This was no goody two-shoes story to listen to. She was really, really free. Here she had been worrying over what God had wanted her to do, when the whole time He just wanted to give her more.

 

She could not wait to get home and tell Tony all about this. She was just sure that he would be so excited!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Unbeknownst to her, Tony was in bed at that very moment contemplating how to minimize Chrissy’s exposure to church and religious fanatics . . .