The baby's surprized, innocent face appeared in her dreams. Again. It had looked straight at her, again, with round, unblinking eyes - neither smiling, nor crying but holding her gaze. A bit weird and unsettling. What could 'it' be conveying, what thoughts? What message?Did a baby even think? Was it even asking for help in some subconscious, subliminal manner? Why was 'it' even so non-descript? She couldn't decide if the baby was male or female. No color coding noted. It had stared at her, body wobbly in its, was it, mother's arms; she couldn't quite tell?
Then the 'vision' faded and ebbed away but now that 'baby' began to haunt her waking hours.
Hmmm. Was it symbolic - a new thing being birthed in her life? She hoped not, at least not like this somewhat 'dark' dream depiction. The vibes really didn't feel good at all. Was she going to adopt a literal baby? That may not be so bad though. She once thought she wanted to. Or, was she being told to have the innocence of a young child - a simplicity of life? But her life was already minimalistic although good and fulfilling enough, that window of opportunity she'd hoped for so long ago in that dark basement place of refuge. What was the Lord trying to tell her?!
She didn't know. Couldn't fathom. In fact, she didn't know much about herself these days. Sometimes, hazy figures popped up. Medical problem? Stress? Spiritual attack? It wasn't drugs, or other substance abuse, that's for sure.
"What, Lord, are you saying to me?" she prayed. "You need me to help rescue someone?"
Her own rescue 10 years ago had been effectual. Her abusive husband had not found her despite the nefarious PI's he'd hired to locate her. Her rescuers had been genuine people, taking her under their wing, and allowing her to focus on an online course in office management. She'd even been given a job in his firm under her assumed name. Now she helped him care for his wife of many years who'd been invalided; her way of showing her gratitude, thanks, and devotion even while maintaining her office work.
She had come to overcome Festus' declarations that she'd come to nothing. She learned that she did have self-worth and value. The real problem had been squarely in her husband's court, not hers! The new name she had chosen for herself was 'Tikvah". Hope. She lived in hope with God and her new nuturing friends.
Her rescuer periodically fed her information about her husband. He was still alive and terrorizing the town folks. He'd finally "blown a fuse" though and stroked out in one of his rage-filled, drunken rampages and was being rehabilitated.
She wondered how that was working out. He was not a patient man. She wondered if her dream, uhhh, she gasped...NO! "No, Lord! Please not that! Please don't ask me to go back to him! Is this what that dream has been about? Him in his current 'baby' state?!"
Ringing her hands together in sweaty anxiety, she flopped down onto the sofa, drained of vitality, feeling very much like a limp wet rag. The punch and stuffing had gone out of her, swiftly. Faint. Suddenly nauseous. Tears of fright but also of rebellion to this idea of return steamed and streamed and glistened from her eyes leaving a wet trail down her cheeks, soaking the throw pillow she clutched to her bosom. Sobs hiccuping and burping out of her inner core in giant, gulping heaves, cut off her ability to breathe. Then darkness mercifully became a blanket over her consciousness.
"Quick, quick!" Mr. Rescue shouted to his wheelchair-bound wife as he happened into the room and not knowing how long Tikvah had been out for the count, "bring your oxygen, dear! Hold the mask over her mouth and nose, ah, that's good. I'll grab some water incase she rallies. Then we can decide if we need 9-1-1."
"I wonder what caused all this?" Mrs. Rescue, asked her husband. "She hasn't had panic attacks in years. At least, it looks like such an attack."
"Hard to say. She has been a bit ill at ease of late. I hope her husband hasn't somehow gotten wind of her whereabouts and been harassing her! Strange though if he is, cuz he's more or less incapacitated with his stroke, of late."
Mr. Rescue brought the glass of water and set it on the end table, while his wife continued applying the oxygen. Slowly, they observed, their charge return to consciousness, fluttering her eyelids open. Mrs. Rescue removed the oxygen, returning it to her own use. "How are you feeling, dear girl?" she asked.
"Wh-wh-what happened?" she asked in a weak voice.
"You must have had a panic attack." Mr. Rescue replied. "Is there something troubling you? You know you can tell us anything. We are your adopted family, and care about you, our 'daughter' and godly woman of worth. Just rest a bit first and we'll talk after dinner. I'll order in some Chinese food, your favorite, and by then you will have likely recovered enough. We're just glad you're coming to. Here, drink some water, first, then rest some more."
"Oh, you dear souls. Thank-you for all your good care and nuturing, yet again. I love you both!" She said and took a sip of water. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd be just fine," Mr. Rescue declared confidently. "Just fine!"
Later that evening, the three of them sat in the family room, each with an evening cup of camomile tea at sipping readiness. "Tell us, Tikvah, what has disturbed you?" Mr. Rescue asked kindly.
Tikvah sighed, where could she begin? She'd start with the dream which was the most obvious launching point. "Well, lately, I've been having a recurring dream. At first I ignored it, and just chalked it up to being a silly dream. But, like I said, it keeps recurring and disturbing my sleep. It seems the Lord has been trying to get my attention about something 'new' or a 'change' that is coming and He is warning and preparing me. The dream now haunts my waking hours as well, and I get a negative feel about it. "
"Oh," the Rescuers chorused. "Hmmm. May we know the dream?"
'Yes, sure." she answered. "It's about a baby that doesn't really seem like a baby, that just stares at me expressionlessly. The baby is wobbly and weak. It's really rather unsettling."
"No doubt," agreed Mrs. Rescue. "But was that enough to cause the panic attack?"
With a wry grimace, Tikva said, "No, much worse but I feel the Lord gave me the answer to what He wants me to do."
"Which is..." prompted Mr. Rescue.
"I'm supposed to go back and nurse Festus!" she said, as tears threatened once again.
The Rescues gasped in unison.
Silence ensued as each let that directive swirl around in their minds.
Slowly, tentatively, Mr. Rescue responded. "My dear, dear Tikvah, let us pray on this together. If this is truly the Lord's direction we cannot ignore it but we will surely need more of His input on this matter. Let us pray and think and ask for wisdom from above on how to proceed. I can understand your great resistance and hesitancy to going back there and understand this has been a shock to your system, and ours too, by-the-way. However, if Festus needs the help and is unable to care for himself, your being his wife, would be indication that you should go back, it being a wifely duty. I'd advise NOT rushing back though. We do not want your imprisonment and appalling mistreatment to descend upon you again. Like I said, Let's pray."
Bowing their heads, Mr Rescue began,
"Lord this has come as a great shock to Tikvah, and to my wife and me that Tikvah is to go back to Festus to care for him. You know how he brutally abused her physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually, in the past. Calm Tikvah's fears, and ours too, that no harm will come to her. If this is truly your guidance give us peace and assurance in our hearts and minds, then help us each to accept it and give us great wisdom as to how to go about it and ease her into that environment once again. I ask in Jesus name."
"Amen,|" came the robust rejoinders.
The three just sat then, sipping their tea and quietly chatting about other things albeit, the main topic never far from their minds. It had been enough for tonight.
In all the kindnesses of the past decade, Mr and Mrs Rescue had never ever revealed why he had helped her in the first place. Likely they would never tell. Even though they had recently rescued another damsel in distress, they never revealed their methods, why's or wherefore's. In some ways, she liked that about them, they were ever so humble and always giving to others. She wanted to be like that too. Maybe going back to Festus was a test of purpose; a training ground, if you will. "Hmmm," she'd have to think on that.
"I wonder how many others they've helped out though," she pondered. Well, she would help her own husband if that is indeed the wisdom from above's leading. She shuddered and shivered though, chills of fear and aversion chasing up and down her spine like that fateful day of yore when she had finally escaped his clutches. She was a different, more mature woman now. Her gumption had come to the fore and helped her then. It would help her now right there along with her faith and trust in the Lord.
"O Lord, what do you really want me to do? Lead and direct in a definite way, show me the path to take." she prayed. "I also need my heart set at rest now, since the dream and this big reveal."
I'm so thankful to the Rescue's though, she thought. I don't want to undo all they have done for me.
"Is hubby truly ready to listen to Your message of love and forgiveness? If so, am I the one to bring this message - Your message, Father God? If so, keep me strong and firm in You and Your love for me! Give me heaping helpings of gumption. I will only be able to do this mission and ministry You have set for me, with Your unconditional and unfailing love backing me up and giving me strength! He's never been easy or safe, to my post-nupital knowledge. Help me now, Father. In Jesus' name, I beseech You!"
In the days following that prayer, Tikvah had almost forgotten her dream and her prayer, if you can believe that. It wasn't until Mr. Rescue brought the news that hubby had suffered a second, more debilitating stroke - one he'd likely not recover from but would live and linger indefinitely from. He would need much patient care, with round-the-clock nursing care. He could afford it but a family member really should be on site. When he said that, he looked her gently and compassionately in her tearing eyes.
She got it. God's timing. It was time to 'go home'. She would, with much trepidition, return to her husband's side.
An insider that kept Mr. Rescue informed all these years told him all the 'old' henchmen had scattered and there were only a couple of old guard left who were 'good guys'. No new people had been, as yet, hired. It looked like the coast was clear and relatively safe.
Actually, Tikvah, had learned that her true name was Elaine - "shining light". The hope and shining light of Jesus would enter that home of Festus, bringing the message of Jesus' love and forgiveness before it was forever too late for him.
In upcoming days, the informer would keep tabs on her and report to Mr. Rescue how things would go and do things she was unable to do for whatever reason.
"Go with God and all godspeed dear lady," Mr. Rescue said. "You know you are like a daughter to us, so do not hesitate to call, day or night or send word through Informer. Be sure to keep me posted one way or another. Should you wish your office job back at any time, it will be made available to you," he assured her.
So Elaine went home to possible new and brighter windows of opportunity.
~ERC August 2022~
This is a sequel to Shades Beyond the Dark Window.
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