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Until it was Gone

I’m in the car on my way home from work. My fingers tap the steering wheel in rhythm to the blaring radio. The deafening volume is a vein attempt to muster some energy for the massive to-do list awaiting me at home. Playing in an endless loop in my mind are two lines from a Robert Frost poem: But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

 And miles to go before I sleep.

Without warning, my hands jerk the steering wheel to the side of the road and I come to an abrupt halt. I briefly stare at them in confusion before remembering the familiar figure walking down the sidewalk that caused me to pull over.

“Hey!” I yell as I scramble out of the car. The Holy Spirit turns my way; a huge grin splitting His face when He catches sight of me.

“Hey back,” He says. “Want to walk with Me?”

“Sure,” I say as I make sure my car is locked and fall in step with Him. We walk a few blocks in silence and as we do, my embarrassment over my rash behavior grows. Why did I stop like that when I saw Him?

“So,” He says as we enter the lush downtown park, “How have you been?”

“I got a job,” I blurt out. “It’s full-time.”

I hear the smile in His voice when He says, “Oh yeah?”

“I’m pregnant too,” I say and glance at His profile.

He bites a smile back and nods. “Yes. I believe I heard something along those lines.” He gives me a sidelong look. “And are you happy?”

I quickly nod in an attempt to cover the liquid pooling in my eyes, but a “no” escapes my lips before I can stop it. The tidal wave of pregnant hormones takes over and I become a sobbing, hiccupping mess. The Holy Spirit leads me to a bench swing and lets me snot all over His well-dressed shoulder. When I finally gain enough control to speak, I utter the words I’ve been avoiding for months. “I miss You.”


“I know. I miss you too.” His arm around my shoulders tightens imperceptibly.

“I-I just didn’t know what I had until it was gone,” I say.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well You know how long it took me to write Let Me Fall. Three whole years. But those were three whole years where my main goal in life was to hang out with You. Now all that’s changed and will continue to change in ways I can’t even fathom.”

“Your main goal in life doesn’t have to change at all.”

My protest is swift. “I don’t see how I can do it. I don’t see how anybody does it, for that matter. I’m so busy I can’t think straight, and our baby hasn’t even been born yet. What am I gonna to do then?”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “You’ll figure it out. Think of your years spent writing Let Me Fall as a season. Because of that season, you’re so aware of having Me fully in your life that you’re bereft when our relationship is stifled. Meaning: I’ve become important to you. And you’ll fight to maintain what’s important to you.”

I snort. “You obviously think better of my character than I do.”

“I really do,” He says with a smile, then suddenly asks, “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

He stands and offers me His hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m coming to your house for dinner. I’m pretty sure your baby wants you to pick up some fried chicken.”

I laugh and let Him pull me off the swing.

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  1. Carolyn Trucano

    Welcome home. I believe that’s the message He was giving you, too (in addition to picking up some fried chicken).

    • beth


  2. Love. (And that Robert Frost line echoes in my head too. Far too often.)

    • beth

      Glad/sad you can relate.

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