Running Home:The Anchor Holds

The way Jesus changed Melda’s life was somethin’ I’d never seen before. I never could look at her without smiling. This girl’s beauty always took me by surprise. I never knew what love was until I met her. The past year has brought us closer together. Though, getting her to trust me wasn’t easy. She needed someone to hear her, and I was that listenin’ ear . Her laugh is the best. The slight rasp in her voice that comes about when she is really into somethin’. The way Jesus gave her passion for life is quite a sight. I know her Mama is thrilled to see her happy. She found a solid anchor in Jesus. I feel blessed to be able to encourage her every day.
Life’s been tough on her, and I admire her strength most of all. The whole family gives us Lemasters somethin’ to strive for; their foundation of family carries many cracks, but they still keep on a goin’. Dad has always told us boys to be strong in the Lord. I’d never seen an example of just how much Christ could change a family quite like this. Melda’s younger brothers had settled quite nicely into our family, the girls too. Della married a couple months ago and moved a little ways away. She never was too far though. Melda was happy for her sister. We all were. I silently wondered if one day that could be the story of the two of us. Only time will tell. My heart has felt each smile she gives me, and each word she speaks.
“You really love her don’t you?” said Dad, as he sat across from me at breakfast one morning.
“I do, I really do.” I replied. I felt my heart quicken.
“She loves you too, I can tell. Ya’ll are too much.” he replied, playfully nudging my arm. “I’m happy for you son. She’s a good pick.”
After my last bite, I quickly got up from the table, eager to start the day. I don’t know what was so funny, but I could hear dad’s soft chuckle as I headed out the door. I couldn’t wait for the weekend.
The next couple of days passed by in a blur. A typical Saturday afternoon out for us was nothing special. Melda enjoyed the simple pleasures of the day. I loved that about her. We spent a lot of our time taking long walks hand in hand. One Saturday in particular I took her into the city, hoping to start chipping away at the shell she surrounded herself with. I wanted her to live a little. I wanted her to face her fears. The memory of Mr. Marshall haunted her daily. Dad said he saw him around often, as Dad went into the city to pay the small amount of what he owed, and to get away from “too much quiet”. I knew she might begin to hate me for doing it, but I wanted her to know that I would protect her, and that everything would be okay. No matter how she felt. Her family would be there for her. My family would be there for her. Everyone loved her. I prayed for the Lord to give her the strength to face her feelings and get past what she worked so hard to avoid. I knew it would take time.
I was willing to spend a lifetime on this beautiful girl. She was worth it.
“You did all this for me?” Melda asked as she shook the dust off her dress. I’d never asked Dad to drive it before, but I wanted today to be different. I wanted this girl to be my adventure partner. Melda had never gone into the city.
“Well, of course. Ya know I love surprisin’ ya!” I teased her.
“I love it, and I love you.” She walked over to the wagon, and as I helped her in, she planted a kiss right on the cheek. My heart always swelled at the small bits of affection she gave to me. We had been together for a year, and it was difficult for her to be openly affectionate towards me. We made progress though. The emotions she carried knew no boundaries, but her body held them all in a tight cocoon. The familiar hug I knew was somehow foreign to her. It was never said exactly what Mr. Marshall did to her. I believe there was more to the story. I didn’t need to know. I didn’t want to know.
“Thank you so much for bringing me out today. It’s nice to be around people that aren’t my family, I don’t get out much.” Melda looked towards me, a sigh of contentment easing through her voice. She relaxed. That was good. We reached the city, and were walking around enjoying the sights of busy streets and the sound of jolly folks.
Melda was smiling. Then we saw him. As the color left her face, she bolted back towards the wagon, cowering in fear. The sudden sadness from an unwelcome flow of memories was visible, as tears started to pour down her cheeks that were now deep red in color.
Mr. Marshall stood facing us.
Oh no, here we go. I thought.
“Hi, Melda. I ain’t seen you in a long time.” He moved forward, attempting to pat Melda on the shoulder. “What’s the matter? You don’t wanna talk to me anymore?’ At first, Mr. Marshall looked hurt. Then a smug smile slowly stretched across his face.
What happened next was something I never expected. This beautiful girl that I loved didn’t run away, although we both knew she wanted to.
“You hurt all of us, and you hurt me most of all. Why would I ever speak to you again?” she spoke suddenly, her jaw clinched. “How could you ever be happy knowing what you did and how you treated my family?” She took a deep breath as she continued. Mr. Marshall’s firm stance began to shrivel. “You have no idea the pain you have caused me. Each day I wake up and I remember everything.” Melda began to sob quietly, as I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I have so much fear and anxiety that at times it’s hard to even function.” She shot me a quick glance. I squeezed her hand tightly. I wasn’t expecting the day to turn out this way, and I wanted her to know it was okay to let everything go. To say what she needed to say. At this moment, she was the bravest girl I ever knew.
“It was your fault. I had to hide from your family because of what happened. I was done with you and your family. ” The sound of Mr. Marshall’s voice rolled through her like fire.
“It was not my fault. You are the person you are because it’s your choice.” Melda said after a few minutes. “Mama has prayed with me, and Frank has been a great help to me. I told Mama after we left your house that day.” Mr. Marshall’s jaw hit the ground.
“I don’t hate you. Jesus has blessed me. All I’m gonna do is pray for you. I don’t want to talk to you. I want nothin’ to do with you.” She looked at me, smiling triumphantly. “I hope one day Jesus can give you the same peace that He gave me.” After a few more moments of silence, Melda took my hand and we walked away. Then we climbed back into the wagon and headed home.
I love that girl more than anything. She has held onto her solid anchor in Jesus. I was happy whatever she was dealing with was given to the Lord. She would open up to me in time, if and when she was ready. I looked back briefly and saw Mr. Marshall still standing there. His jaw was still on the ground. He looked defeated. The good Lord made sure we never heard from him again. Dad heard he clear left town altogether.
Good on him, I thought.
Melda and her family’s faith was special. She gave everything she had to the Lord, and He remains her solid anchor.
“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord”. (Romans 12:19 King James Version)