The Fall of Jericho

Stacey always had the best hair. Even when we were 5, and all 5 year old’s look like incomplete Picasso pieces. But not Stacey. She was always put together and knew what she wanted in life but still had a sweetness to her that made people like her, regardless of her perfection. She sailed through life with that pretty people privilege, and I resented her for it. I was awkward, uncomfortable, and always the foreigner. Yes, Stacey was also Indian, but something about her made her inviting. I attributed it completely to her good looks.

She even tried to work her charm on me, but I knew better. I was smart enough to see through the façade of niceness that there was something wrong with her. No one could be that pretty, nice, happy, and smart. God is fair, isn't He? So I stayed far away from the grips and friendship of Stacey. But like any other person who has too much time in her hands, I kept up with Stacey’s life. We graduated school, went to the same university, and graduated school together again. I went on to have a successful career after majoring in history, becoming a secretary to a delightfully cranky accountant. And according to Instagram and my parents, Stacey was a successful nurse practitioner…why couldn’t I be more like her?

But I waited. I was patient. I knew one day that like the wall of Jericho, the façade of her glorious life would crumble. So imagine my surprise when I saw her crying in the corner of my church on a cold Sunday morning. The service was over and most people had rushed out to get to lunch or that sweet Sunday nap. But not her. She had her head bowed down and her shoulders shook for a good 10 minutes. A part of my cold heart was rejoicing that I was witnessing the fall of Stacey. But not like this. It was unmistakable that she was hurting. But hurting from what? From having the perfect husband and kids? The beautiful house in Sunset Rose? She deserved no real sympathy. She probably deserved it. So imagine my surprise when my feet started to move towards her and I sat beside her. God was obviously pushing me to talk to her, and my flesh had no part in that decision. What would I say to her? How would I talk to her? We have nothing in common and I had no words of comfort. But something kept me there.

I nervously ask, “Hi Stacey. Are you ok? Do you want someone to talk to?” I handed her the Kleenex next to me.

“Thanks Beth. Oh I was just having a good crying session with Jesus. It’s good to have those sometimes you know. I have been having a hard week with my dad in the hospital again. He’s had cancer on and off since I was 5, but this time things look worse for him. My family has kept his diagnosis pretty private all these years, but I wanted to let someone else know and maybe that’s why God sent you to me right now.”

I was shocked. Pretty and perfect Stacey had a rough childhood? I mean teenage acne is a pretty hard hand to be dealt, but her dad had cancer her entire life? It made sense now why he seemed so tired sometimes, but it didn’t make sense how she seemed to have such a happy life despite it.

“I’m really sorry to hear that Stacey. I didn’t know that your dad and your family was going through such a rough time for so long”

“Yeah we kept it on the down low. It was hard not letting people know. But God has been really faithful to us, Beth. We never expected for us to have this much time with dad, so every day has been a gift. It’s like Pastor Tom said, when you have trust that God is with you through everything, your heart and body will be glad and secure in Him. I won't lie, its not always been easy to say that, you might remember I had lost my job last year and things were pretty rough for us there.”

No I didn't remember that, conveniently my parents had left that out of my weekly updates.

“But that verse out of Psalms 16 has kept me going. I learned that looking to Jesus. Even when the going gets rough, I get this peace that can’t be explained, I feel secure that no matter what happens, Jesus is going to get me through it safely and soundly. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

Actually no, I didn’t know what she meant. I had a sinking pit in my stomach as I heard her describing this peace and security in her life. I wanted that. In fact, I realized that’s what I despised about her the most all these years. She always knew who she was and had a peace that seemed profound and unreachable. Of course, being in church, I knew Jesus, but I didn’t have a close relationship. He was more of an acquaintance that I was obligated to meet every Sunday because of family rituals and traditions.

I was part of Sunday school, went to VBS every summer, and I volunteered at church. I even thought I was a pretty decent Christian, but listening to Stacey was making me uncomfortable. Squirming in my chair, I started to reflect on my relationship with God. Is this why I was so miserable all these years? Is this why my self-esteem was at an all-time low? Maybe it's not that Stacey was faking being happy. She just turned to God to give her strength, and He gave her the peace to be happy.

I gave her a weak nod. She gave a grateful smile and said “Thanks for talking to me Beth. It feels really good to have someone to talk to about this stuff and can understand what a girl goes through. I’m going to head out now, I think Steve is waiting for me out there, but let’s talk more next week? You always seemed like someone who I could connect to really well.” I shyly replied "Okay," and watched her walk out the church doors.

I sat there feeling equal parts shame, guilt, and longing. I despised Stacey all these years, not for what she had or what she accomplished. I despised her because I longed for what she had with Jesus. I reached for the Kleenex next to me, as I silently wept. Jericho was falling, but it was not Stacey crumbling. It was me. And just like her, I submitted all my fears and failings to Jesus and asked that He would give me peace that passes all worldly understanding. And as I breathed, God rushed into me. It’s amazing how one prayer can change your life, because I opened my eyes and I knew things were going to be different.

Psalm 16:8 says, 'I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.'

It will take time to heal and love who Jesus created me to be, but God’s restoration of my soul was well on its way. I wanted to know God like Stacey knew Him. And I couldn’t wait to tell and ask Stacey all about it next week.

Love,

Merlyn

A woman of worth