The Marine's Baby. Deb Kastner
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During the whole ten minutes it took her to rush to Nate’s cabin, Jessica petitioned God for Gracie’s health and safety. She more than most knew the singular pain of losing an infant. She would never wish that kind of agony on anyone, most especially the kind of man who would put his own life on hold in order to care for a baby who was not his own flesh and blood.
Jessica prayed for Nate as well, that God would give him comfort and peace. Based on what she knew of Nate, she suspected he was not a Christian.
But hadn’t God reached Jessica through just such a tragedy? She prayed it would not take that kind of pain and anguish for Nate to find God.
She briefly considered phoning Vince to let him know what was happening with baby Gracie, but she hesitated, and with good reason. Nate had made a pretty clear statement when he’d called Jessica and not Vince; and from their earlier conversations, it was clear to Jessica that there were definite issues between the two brothers.
Yet tension or no tension, Vince was Nate’s brother, his family, and Jessica thought he ought to know what was happening with Gracie. She had been acquainted with Vince a good deal longer than Nate, and she had no doubt that Vince would want to be updated.
But in the end, she decided against calling Vince and simply focused on getting to Nate’s cabin as quickly as possible. Whatever the situation was between Nate and his brother, she had to respect his wishes, even if they’d never been spoken aloud.
Even though it was a downhill hike, it felt like forever before she reached Nate’s cabin. Several times she thought she should have driven, but she’d been certain she could arrive at the cabin just as quickly on foot. Walking, she could hike straight there. The road was winding and out of the way.
Finally, she broke through the tree line and spied the cabin in front of her. The front door was open, so she let herself in, not wanting to disturb Gracie on the off chance she was sleeping.
She blinked rapidly as her vision slowly adjusted to the darkness of the cabin after having been out in the bright sunshine. Simultaneously, she took in a number of things.
Gracie was sound asleep in her playpen, her chubby legs curled under her. Her arm was wrapped around an enormous, well-worn stuffed orange-and-white-striped fish and her little thumb was tucked in her mouth. Jessica noted with thankfulness that the baby appeared to be resting peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling in a deep, reassuring rhythm.
Nate was slumped in a wooden chair he’d pulled close to the playpen, his back to the door and his head buried in his hands. Jessica approached him quietly, not wanting to disturb Gracie’s slumber.
He jumped, startled, when Jessica laid her hand on his shoulder. She could feel the tension he was carrying in the knotted muscles of his back.
“Hi,” Jessica whispered. “I got here as quick as I could. How is she?”
“Jess,” Nate groaned as he stood and turned toward her. “Thank you for coming.”
A moment later, he swept her into a hug that knocked the wind from her lungs. He clasped her tightly for a few moments. She felt him shudder deeply a moment before he let her go. Concern, compassion and tenderness flooded through her for this man who’d given up so much to take on the care of baby Gracie.
“It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him when he released her. “She’s going to be okay. It looks like she is sleeping soundly now, and we can take comfort that God is watching over her.”
Jessica wished her words carried more impact, but internally she knew that just because God was in control and, as Jessica had said, was watching over little Gracie, that didn’t necessarily mean everything would be all right—at least from her incomplete, staring-into-the-mirror-darkly, human perspective.
God’s ways, Jessica had painfully learned, were not always man’s ways.
But it didn’t hurt to pray.
Nate’s face crumpled into dozens of harsh lines, but his gold-flecked eyes held hope. Jessica could see how desperately he wanted to believe her words. His short brown hair was tousled and sticking up every which direction, making him look incongruously and heart-wrenchingly vulnerable next to the muscular strength of the sturdy marine.
“In Isaiah there is a beautiful description of Jesus as the Shepherd over His little lambs,” she continued, wanting desperately to comfort Nate. “It goes like this. ‘He shall gather the lambs in His arms and carry them in His bosom,’” she quoted softly.
Nate squeezed his eyes shut and Jessica thought the rough-edged marine might be fighting tears.
“I hope so,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I really hope so.”
Jessica took his hand and led him back to his chair, pushing him gently into his seat before pulling another chair up next to him and seating herself. She reached her arm over the side of the playpen and brushed the backs of her fingers against Gracie’s cheek. The baby’s skin still felt warm, but not alarmingly so. Jessica was almost certain Gracie’s fever was falling.
She sighed in relief. “I think her temperature has gone down some.”
Nate swallowed hard and nodded. A muscle twitched in the corner of his strong jaw. “The poor little thing screamed so hard when I gave her a sponge bath that she wore herself completely out. She fell asleep right afterward. I don’t mind telling you, she had me scared there for a while.”
Jessica struggled for a moment with her own memories, with the sudden way her own baby had been taken from her. Elizabeth had been healthy and happy when Jessica had put her to bed. The next morning she wasn’t breathing.
Just like that.
Jessica struggled to contain her emotions, to pull the painful memories back behind the iron wall of her will so Nate would not be able to see what she was feeling on her face.
This was a different situation. It wasn’t Elizabeth all over again. Babies got fevers. That was just how it was. And it wasn’t necessarily life-threatening. There was no reason for her to panic.
Nate and Gracie needed her strength and support right now, she reminded herself sharply. Breathing deeply, she clenched her hands together and fought for all she was worth.
Nate’s groan interrupted her turmoil thoughts, jarring her back to the present.
“I feel so helpless.” Elbows on his knees, Nate clasped his hands together and leaned his scruffy chin on them. “I just wish there was more I could do,” he admitted roughly.
“There is,” Jessica whispered, reaching for Nate’s hand. When he glanced up at her, a question in his eyes, she smiled softly. “We can pray.”
Nate stared at her for a moment, and then nodded, his jaw tight.
Jessica bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Heavenly Father, we are thankful that Gracie is in Your tender care. Watch over her and keep her safe. Lord, we ask that You restore Gracie to health and give her little body strength to work through this fever.
“And be with Nate, Lord. Give him wisdom and peace. Amen.”
Jessica looked up and caught Nate staring at her, wide-eyed. She wondered if he had prayed along with her, or merely watched her as she prayed. She felt a little self-conscious for a moment, then brushed it off.
What mattered was that she had prayed. And God was good. She prayed once again, silently, this time, that Nate would be able to see the grace of God.
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