Lily, Natalies story.

“Oh Harold, you came to see me, what a day filled with goodness. And who’s this little cup of sunshine you brought with you?” She greets us with the warmth of a southern accent and charm mixed into one. 

“Hey darlin, this is my friend Scott,” Harold responds. “Thought he could learn something from you and so we decided to give you a visit.”

“Hey there, strong and handsome,” she says as she looks at me with a smile, “follow me, I got some chairs in the back, you can help me bring them out front here so we can all have a seat and a chat.”

I try to wipe the smile off my face from that greeting, but can’t seem to do it as I follow her through the back doorway into what appears to be a storage room for all sorts of fabric and staging props. In each corner there’s a different designed space. A large table sits in the middle with a sewing machine built into it. It’s really like you’re in the middle of different rooms each with its own unique feeling.

“Wow, this is really cool back here,” I say while reaching forward to take a chair from her hand. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Well, now let’s see, probably about 35 years now,” she responds.

“You do not look that old.”

“Not a day past 39… plus 2,” she says with a wink.

I laugh and smile, “so you started when you were about 6 years old?”

“Actually it might have been more like 5, but yeah, after I got my first couple dolls for Christmas and birthdays, I just knew they needed a place where they could be themselves and experience different emotions and whatnot. So, I built little rooms for them and colored the walls. Then I built furniture out of cardboard, and imagined them coming alive in those rooms. When I got older it turned into a lot of drawing and coloring. I just loved how you could create a mood out of colors, shapes and space. And so that’s what I help people do in their homes, and I love it.”

“That’s really great, and cool that you found something you loved that much,” I say as I continue to look around the room. “Hey what’s that door in the corner?”

“Ahh, that’s my closet where I fight demons,” she says a little quieter with a smile. “Well, you know how people say that everyone has demons in their closet, I don’t disagree, I just choose to use my closet to fight them instead of hide them. That way I can still be of some use to the rest of the world when I come back out. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to judge someone else for their sins. We all have pain and most of our sin comes out of our pain, but the real difference is between the people who want to be free from their chains and those who want to try and hide them, justify them, and stay locked up. You can’t help those people, Lord knows I’ve tried,” she says as she brushes a piece of hair back with the backside of her hand. “And well, it’s always been a waste of breath. Sometimes you just gotta let ‘em be.”

“Huh, well, I’ll take this chair back out front.”

“Sure thing sugar, I’m gonna get us some snacks. You know Harold and his sweet tooth.”

“I am starting to notice that,” I say with a chuckle as I turn to walk back.

“So what brings you two in?” She asks while walking toward us carrying a tray of doughnuts.

“Well, my buddy here, Scott, is in quite the pickle with the old justice system a few counties over.” Harold says.

“You mean with…,” Lily pauses and motions with her hand.

“Yeah unfortunately. So, he’s here for some help, but reality is, I don’t know if he’s ready for the help that will actually help him, you know.”

“Well, Harold he’s here isn’t he?” She turns to me, “You don’t just arrive here, you’re brought here.” She turns back to Harold. “Does he even know your story?” She says.

“We just met this morning darlin. I thought it would be better if he heard some other stories about some fire walkers.”

She smiles and looks over at me and says, “fire walkers is Harold’s made up term for the lot of us who went through hell and back and somehow survived.”

“I wouldn’t talk about it if I didn’t know about it, and I wouldn’t know about it, if I didn’t walk through it. That’s the way it works son, never forget that little nugget,” he says as he smiles and reaches for a mini doughnut off the plate that Lily set before us.

I smile and then looking at both of them ask, “why does it seem like you are somehow ok with walking through whatever it was that you both did? I mean I can see forgetting and moving on, but the fact that you all are still ok with bringing it up and facing all of the mess. I don’t see how I could do that after feeling like I’ve been tortured.”

They glance at each other. Lily stands up and walks over to the counter by the door and walks back holding an hour glass. 

“What do you see here honey?” She says as she turns it over and starts the sand pouring through the middle.

“An hour glass, and the glass on each side is heart-shaped.”

“It’s a reminder for me, that time heals a whole lot, but not on it’s on. It’s really hard to be healed in the midst of the torture or the continuing pain. It might even be impossible without some divine intervention. But once you are free from the weight of the oppression, that’s when you can begin to rebuild, grow, take care of the weeds, etc. But time is such a beautiful mystery. Watch the sand falling. What do you see?”

“I don’t know I guess it’s calming to watch it and it’s cool how the design it makes on the other side keeps changing.”

“Yeah, but have you ever thought about how many grains of sand fall through that tiny hole in the course of one second?”

“No, I guess I haven’t,” I respond.

“Your emotions, your feelings, your thoughts are like those grains of sand… Uncountable. When you are going through pain, you will have the same amount of thoughts running through your brain as that sand. And the opportunity for it to change you for the worse is, let’s just say, natural. You gotta hold onto something, Scott,” she says as her eyes begin to water. “You know I knew a lot about God and Jesus, and the Bible growing up, but like that man, Job, after going through my season of darkness, I could honestly say, ‘I had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You’,” she pauses as she reaches for a tissue and dabs at her eyes.

She sighs deeply, “So, with what I’m about to tell you, I just need you to remember that the real story is what happened between me and Jesus and less about what happened between me and anyone else.”

“Ok,” I respond quietly.

“I was a free spirit from the time I was young. I loved people but also loved the quiet moments in between when I could hide away in my room and create a whole new world to live in. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my childhood, and it wasn’t like I was trying to change my world because I didn’t like it or anything. I mean, I had a dad who loved me and was never shy about telling me that or how much he was proud of me, and a mom who was kind and patient with me and raised me to serve others with an undivided heart. She taught me that serving Jesus was always my starting point and that when I served others, friends, family, even my future husband, it was only going to be good if it came through my desire to serve Jesus. Let me just say, I had a wonderful childhood, that I wish I could gift to everyone. I really think it would solve a lot of the issues we have here if kids felt safe and loved in the homes they grow up in. Anyway, I grew up and went to college and met my husband. And life was great for the first little while. I had someone to serve and love and in return, I was filled up by pouring out and I thought everything was great for the first few years. But, then the allegation came and he ended up in jail for about a year. I held on, believing that he was telling the truth to me when he denied the charges. I stood up for him determined to be a good wife and that somehow the truth would show that he was wrongly charged. But, I’ll be honest, I always had some level of doubt to all of it that I just couldn’t shake.  He was released and we put the pieces back together and things seemed to be going well again. And then a friend phoned me and told me that my husband was caught in adultery. I was crushed. I can’t even describe all the thoughts that went through my mind. Questioning how stupid I must be, and still trying to get answers out of him as to what was really going on, but all I was faced with was him dodging my questions and even trying to change the subject into something spiritual. Oh yeah, and then sometimes he’d twist it all up and try to blame it on me. I didn’t like that one bit, I’d tell him a grown man can hold his own toilet paper,” she says as she looks at me and smiles. “I was really solid in my faith, so I didn’t feel like I walked away from faith in Jesus, but there were days when the fog was so thick and the feelings that churned inside of me were so dark and heavy, I couldn’t even cry out for help. I guess I just didn’t want to be left with the silence again of no answer from this One that was supposed to keep me from stumbling, and protect me from my enemies, and put a hedge of protection around me. Honestly, none of those promises fit anymore in that season of life. And so, I just limped along for a while. We separated, then we got back together, because I was determined that this could be fixed and that I was gonna have one of those overcomer stories. We had more children together, and then this miracle came to me. We named him Andrew Dillon, which means strength and faith. He almost didn’t make it multiple times, so that name seemed to fit, not just for him but for what it was doing inside of me. He was in and out of hospitals every year. Surgery after painful surgery and he just kept going. He can’t walk, can’t talk, can’t do a lot of things that we think define life. But, I will tell you that my son, lives life in the most beautiful way, and teaches people like me and many others, what life is really about. In many ways he saved me from going down the path of despair. Well, after about four years from Andrew being born, I caught my husband cheating again, and asked him to move out. He moved in with another woman right away and it was obvious that this wasn’t going to be fixed like I had held out hope for. I honestly believed that my love, commitment and faith, could give him the environment he needed to be able to change, but it just wasn’t enough for a heart that’s determined in its way. We divorced soon after, and I’ve been rebuilding one brick at a time since then.”

She pauses and sighs deeply and then continues, “You know these rooms that I put together for people. They’re just an invitation. Sometimes I pour my heart into it and use the most expensive items, and some some of my customers just want to have the room in their home, but never actually go a sit in it, and take it all in. They never receive what the atmosphere in that room is trying to offer. And I think that’s how our love is for others. Some don’t actually want the change that can come by sitting in it and experiencing it. 

“I’m really sorry you went through all of that,” I say as I sit back in my chair and cross my arms taking a deep breath.

“Me too,” she replies. “But I’m not sorry for me anymore. You see my life has been so full. Full of adventure, full of beauty, full of dark days, full of pain, but one thing that’s true is that it’s always been so full. And, I’m not done yet. I’ve got lots more memories to make. I guess what I’m sorry for is for the people who got so tricked that they actually believed they’d be better in the long run chasing deception. That’s who I’m sorry for, those bound up, lost and confused people. They just can’t see what’s actually going on here and how much it matters for eternity. That’s why Jesus could look at them and then ask his father to forgive them. He knew they didn’t have a clue. But, you Scott, I think you’re starting to have a clue, at least I get that sense.”

“Maybe, I just have a lot to think about after today. Can I ask you one more question?”

“Sure thing,” she responds.

“Do you ever ask, why me? I mean all of your story just seems like so much, and I understand that you love your son, but that’s added a lot of extra to your life which was already so difficult.”

“Huh, well I think what you’re really asking about is the cost. You see my husbands choices were a great cost to me, and the reality of my son’s health and his needs are a great cost to me. My husband had a choice to make, my son did not. My son was actually a victim, although he doesn’t see himself that way, he’s so full of life and joy that he feels like everything in his life is wonderful. I had two situations where people needed grace from me, one of them took that grace and mistreated it, used it to go further into their own prison, and the other one accepted it with a smile and a grateful heart, and arms that reach up for me when I walk into the room. Grace is powerful but it won’t overpower our freewill. So, yeah there is a cost to my son being the way that he is, but you don’t feel the cost the same when the grace that is given is valued and used to grow into something beautiful. And I’m at the place now, where I wouldn’t trade a thing. I don’t necessarily like the pain that I had to walk through, and honestly some days I wish life were easier, but when I’m in my most honest space, I relish the beauty that it’s created in me and around me.