"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."- Psalm 34:18
December 19, 1995
"Hi, yes I'm calling about the Wilson order..." Six days until Christmas and plans for the very first joint Wilson-Chasez Christmas party were underway. Back at Thanksgiving Char's and JC's parents, Lennie and Diannah, and Roy and Karen had decided to celebrate Christmas together. Ever since the two families made the move to Orlando for their kids to be on the "All-New Mickey Mouse Club", they had all grown tremendously close. Diannah and Karen had become fast friends, having girlfriend get togethers, going on trips, and just being a shoulder for the other to lean on. Lennie and Roy had become equally close spending their free time golfing, grilling, and guzzling back beers while watching football. JC's two younger siblings, Heather, and Tyler had become like siblings to Char, two relationships that she held near and dear to her heart. As an only child, she craved the closeness of a sibling relationship. Heather had become her best friend, and they went to each other for everything. She loved Tyler like a little brother, and loved that he sometimes confided in her, things that he wasn't yet ready to share with JC and Heather.
When their families decided to host a party on Christmas Eve, Char, JC, Heather, and Tyler all decided to take it upon themselves to head a different task in preparation for the party. Char had designated herself as the head of catering, Heather with her superb organizational skills oversaw invitations and RSVPs. Tyler, the baby of the bunch, desperate to prove himself and his capabilities decided to take up the task of decorating. He'd spent his free time taping episodes of Martha Stewart Living, and subscribed to the magazine. JC with his superior musicianship skills oversaw music and entertainment.
"Yes, the twenty-fourth... Correct." Posted against the kitchen wall, where the phone was installed, Char cradled the receiver between her left ear and shoulder, while holding a legal pad in her left hand, and taking notes with her right. "Okay, you all can come through the back and set up in the kitchen... Yes, four p.m."
Heather, from her place seated at the island watched as Char rapidly scribbled onto the notepad.
"Yes, I need to put down the deposit." Purse please, Char mouthed to Heather, pointing to the chair at the kitchen table where her purse had been hanging off. Heather quickly shuffled to the table and passed Char her purse. Char quickly rummaged through her purse to find her wallet. Retrieving her credit card from her wallet, she read off the number and CVC on the card to the catering receptionist. "Perfect. Thank you so much, have a great day, goodbye!" Char placed the phone on the hook and turned to Heather, who was back at her seat at the island, and smiled. "Catering is taken care of. One more thing to cross off the list."
Heather, who was also in charge of the "to-do" list, checked off catering on her own legal pad. "Excellent," she smiled. "Everything's running perfectly on schedule. In fact, we're ahead of schedule," she observed. "The Bakers and the Findleys RSVP'd today."
"They were the last two we were waiting on, right?" Char asked, joining Heather at the island.
"Nope, I'm still waiting to hear from the Lamberts and the Fosters," Heather replied. "And it's still fifty-fifty for the Matthews and Hunters. The Matthew's daughter went into early labor, and Blake Hunter's dad had an emergency surgery, so he and Shareen had to fly to Minnesota to be with his family. They're not sure they'll make it back in time."
"Well, as per Emily Post's etiquette tips for party hosting, I've ordered more food than expected guests, so having enough food should not be a problem," Char replied.
"I know I tease you, but it looks like your Emily Post books have actually come in handy!" Heather quipped.
"See, I told ya! There's still a place for Emily Post in a ninety's world. Proper etiquette never goes out of style!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So, what are you getting Char for Christmas?" Joey asked JC. He, JC, and Chris were roaming the Mall at Millenia doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.
"She told me not to get her a gift this year," JC replied, as they weaved their way through crowds of eager and anxious Christmas shoppers.
"Yeah right," Joey laughed. "What are you really getting her?"
"Nothing. Literally," JC responded. "In fact, she insisted that I get her nothing."
"Dude, you know chicks just say that to set you up," Chris said. "Watch what happens when you show up to her doorstep empty-handed on Christmas morning."
"Yeah, your ass is so gonna get handed to you," Joey warned, as they ducked into Sam Goody.
"Dude seriously, better think quick," Chris agreed, while rummaging through a bin of discount cassette tapes.
"No seriously, we had this discussion two months ago. She's still not over what happened last year," JC explained.
"Oooohhh," Chris and Joey sighed in unison.
"That's right," Chris said in a startling realization. "It's already coming up on a year."
"Yeah, on Christmas Eve," JC replied. "And she's still pretty traumatized by it all."
"Understandable, I mean who wouldn't be," Joey said sympathetically. "I mean, I can't even imagine..."
"She hasn't said anything, but I think she might be blaming herself," JC said, sighing deeply.
"Ugh, that's rough," Chris said. "But I mean she's gotta know it's not her fault."
"I mean logically she has to know that, but grief doesn't really adhere to reason." JC surmised.
"So, what are you gonna do?" Joey asked.
"Well, she said that she didn't want this year to be about the material. She didn't want gifts, but she wanted to make new memories and start new traditions," JC answered.
"So that means that you'll have to make this year extra special for her," Chris said.
"I know," JC replied. "I'm determined to make this Christmas one that Char will never forget."
December 20, 1995
Five days until Christmas, and Char had spent all morning grocery shopping and preparing for Christmas breakfast and dinner. This was the first year that they would not be eating at either of her grandparents' houses, so Char took it upon herself to recreate some of her grandmothers' favorite recipes: Breakfast sausage casserole, homemade cinnamon rolls with her Nana Della's special icing, glazed biscuit doughnuts, Cornish hens, honey glazed ham, fried cabbage with bacon, baked macaroni and cheese, scalloped potatoes, collard greens, honey butter biscuits, and Grandma Gladys' sweet potato pie. On Christmas day, they were going to have a day full of down home, comforting, southern soul food. It would be quite the undertaking, but it would all be worth it to have a little piece of home with them in Orlando.
Placing all the grocery bags on top of the kitchen table, Char made a mental note to call her grandmothers later that evening to make sure that she had all the recipes written down correctly. As Char began to pack the groceries into the refrigerator, Diannah descended the back stairs into the kitchen.
"Honey where were you all morning?" Diannah questioned her daughter.
"Publix," Char replied. "I got everything we need for Christmas day!" She smiled proudly.
Diannah observed all the groceries on the table. "You didn't buy all of this yourself, did you?"
"Of course, I did," Char replied, momentarily stopping to come face to face with her mother.
"Honey, how much money did you spend?" Diannah asked incredulously.
"Mom, it's not about the money. I just want this Christmas to be a good one."
"You're not actually planning on cooking all of this, are you?"
"Yes. I'm cooking all of it. Breakfast and dinner," Char said defiantly.
Diannah sighed. "Honey, I don't want this falling all on your shoulders. You're only sixteen! At least let me help you."
"Mom, no. I've got it all under control," Char insisted. "I've talked to Nana Della and Grandma Gladys and they're more than willing to help me with the recipes."
"No, I'm not going to allow you to slave away in the kitchen," Diannah declared. She walked through the swinging door that led to the living room and came back with her purse in hand. "How much did you spend?" She asked Char, pulling out her checkbook.
"Mom, you're not paying me back," Char insisted.
Diannah huffed in frustration. "Well, I'm not letting you do all of this by yourself."
"Mom, you're not lifting a finger this year," Char persisted.
"Charise-Lynette, are you serious? I'm fine!" Diannah protested.
"Fine?" Char repeated.
"Listen, I know that you're worried about me, but I'm getting back to myself. Sure, I'm not exactly one-hundred percent, but emotional healing takes time," Diannah said assuredly. "Charise, I appreciate you caring about me. I could not have asked for a more loving, caring, selfless, and more protective daughter. But you are the child, and I'm the mother, not the other way around. You have done more in the past year to help take care of me than I could ever ask, but I don't want you to carry this burden all on your shoulders."
A moment of silence between them. Char took in what her mother had said. A tear escaped her eye, and softly fell down her cheek. It's not fair, she thought. None of this is fair. Why did this have to happen to us? "But Mom, that's what families do. We're there for each other in our darkest moments," she finally said.
"Exactly; family, each other. This doesn't all fall on you. You're still a child. Your father and I don't expect you to sacrifice your social life: time with JC, ball games, times with your friends, parties, just to take care of us. Please believe that we will be okay. We can't just stop living life because of what happened. Life goes on, and we must move forward no matter how hard it is to accept. That means you too honey. You've got to start taking care of yourself. Your feelings are just as valid and important. This happened to you just as much as it happened to your father and I."
"I just... wish I could make everything alright again. I wish I could take away all yours and Daddy's pain and hurt. I just want to make everything okay," Char whispered, swallowing back tears.
"I know baby, but you can't, and you're not supposed to. This is in God's hands, not yours," Diannah replied, wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter, and embracing her in a hug. Char snuggled into her mother, and lay her head on her shoulder, giving up, and letting the tears flow freely.
As mother and daughter stood in the kitchen, tightly embracing each other, Char willed herself to stop thinking about it. It was all she could think about. The first thing she thought about when she woke up in the morning, the last thing she thought about at night. She even dreamed about it. Sometimes she dreamt that the outcome was different. That it never happened, and they all lived happily ever after. It was dreams like these where she wished she could stay asleep forever. When she woke up, she was faced with the harsh reality of what had happened all over again. Memories haunted her, and she couldn't escape them.
Dear God, please give me a Christmas miracle. Char silently prayed. Please, heal our hearts.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you..." - James 4:8
Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring tingle tingling too
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling "Yoo hoo!"
Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you
The three-part harmony of The Ronettes serenaded the customers of Rock & Roll Heaven, a popular used record store in downtown Orlando. There were two more days until the Christmas party, and JC was making final music selections, and brought Char along for the excursion.
"So, I was thinking about doing a mix of Christmas classics, and Motown hits. You know, since Motown is timeless and multigenerational, and everyone loves Motown." JC said, running the theme over with Char. He looked up and she was in the row across from him, absentmindedly scrolling through a row of Country records. "Did you even hear anything I said?"
"What? Yeah, whatever, that's fine," Char replied distractedly.
"Earth to Char," JC clapped.
Char jumped, startled. "I'm listening JC," she said irritably.
JC's brow furrowed. Char had been jumpy and irritable all morning. He knew that today would not be easy for her, but he just didn't know how to bring it up. He thought that getting her out of the house and enlisting her help to pick out music would be a welcomed distraction, but so far, his attempt hadn't been successful.
Realizing how she had snapped at JC, Char immediately felt guilty. He'd been nothing but caring and understanding, and here she was lashing out at him. It wasn't fair to him, and she knew it. "Babe, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that," she apologized. Char walked to the next row over where JC was, and stood at his side. She reached for his hand and interlaced her fingers with his. JC lifted their intertwined hands and kissed the back of her hand.
"I know, it's okay," JC reassured her.
"No, it's really not," Char replied. "I've been a raging bitch to you for no reason, and it's not okay."
"Not for no reason," JC said.
"Just because I'm struggling with something, that doesn't excuse my behavior. You've been nothing but good to me, and I shouldn't be lashing out at you," Char sighed.
JC took Char's free hand in his and wrapped her arms around his torso. He pulled her into a tight embrace and planted a kiss on her forehead.
Char felt safe and protected in JC's arms. Loved and cared for. Being held by JC felt like home. Whenever he held her, all her problems seemed to melt away. Not caring if they were in a record store full of people, or who was looking at them. When she was in his arms, nothing else mattered. Laying her head against his chest she took in his smell; CK One and Dove body soap. Being in his presence was simply intoxicating.
"Char look at me," JC said, breaking their moment of silence. Char looked up at JC, her eyes meeting his. "You can't keep burying your emotions. It's okay to be sad, angry, hurt, whatever it is. It's okay to feel. Take it out on me, I don't care, I know it's not personal. Do what you need to do to cope with this. Just, don't run from your feelings, you're never going to heal that way."
Char took in what JC was saying to her. She bit down on her bottom lip grappling with what to say. He was right. Her mother was right. She couldn't keep avoiding her feelings, and she shouldn't try to deal with everything herself. She had amazing people in her life, she just had to let them be there for her. "You're right," she finally said. "I can't keep burying my feelings, I guess I just don't know how to deal with them."
"You know you can always talk to me," JC replied.
"I know. I just don't know how. Every time I try and describe what happened, every time I try and say it out loud, I'm just overcome with so much anxiety," Char admitted.
JC stared down at Char empathetically. This was the most that she'd opened up about the situation in months. "Maybe you should see a grief counselor, I hear they're really helpful," he suggested.
"I've thought about it," Char replied. "But I just can't get used to the idea of sharing my deepest, darkest moments with a total stranger."
"Well, if you ever do decide to go see a counselor, I'll come with you for moral support," JC promised.
"Thank you," Char smiled. She reached up on her tip toes and gave him a quick kiss. "So, Motown?" Char asked, switching gears, and getting back to the reason they were there.
"Yeah," JC replied, picking out a Motown Greatest Hits vinyl. "Classic, appropriate for all ages, and it transcends generations. Everyone has a favorite Motown song," he explained.
"I think it's a great idea. You should also add in some Phil Spector records. The whole ‘Spector Wall of Sound' pairs great with the Christmas vibe," Char suggested.
JC smiled. "See, that's why I brought you along."
"There's also a Patsy Cline record over there," Char said, pointing in the direction of the Country music section.
"Forget about it," JC said, shaking his head.
"Joooosssshhh," Char whined, pouting her lips. "C'mon."
"Nope, drop it," JC replied, unrelenting. "I am not playing Patsy Cline. That is where I draw the line!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Have a holly, jolly Christmas
It's the best time of the year
I don't know if there'll be snow
But have a cup of cheer
Have a holly, jolly Christmas
If I have to hear one more Christmas song, I think I just might vomit, Char thought to herself upon entering the elevator. The usual Bossa Nova that played in the elevator year-round had been swapped for syrupy Christmas classics, and she was just about over it. From the Christmas music playing in the record store earlier that morning, to the Salsa-fied Christmas mix at the Cuban sandwich shop where she and JC had lunch, and now Christmas music in an elevator. How nice. Not! Char had grown exhausted of Burl Ives, Rosemary Clooney, The Ronettes, Bing Crosby, and the countless others classic crooners.
Once the doors of the elevator shut, Char pressed the number 4 button, and the lift began to rise. As the elevator ascended, the usual butterflies began to swirl in the pit of her stomach. Her palms sweating, and her fingers twitching. Even though she'd been coming once a week for the past year, she still couldn't get passed the initial anxiety she felt every time she rode the elevator up. Stopping at the fourth floor, once the elevator doors slid open, Char was greeted with the familiar smell of Clorox, disinfectant, and rubbing alcohol.
Stepping out of the elevator, Char blinked rapidly adjusting her eyes to the overhead lighting. She took in a deep breath to steady herself, and calm her nerves, then walked the short distance to the nurse's station. As she approached the desk, she noticed the Christmas decorations: the red and green garland strung around the counter, the mini-Christmas tree on top of the desk, and a bowl of complimentary candy. Char reached into the bowl and pulled out a circular chocolate peppermint. She unwrapped the mint and popped it into her mouth, then rang the desk bell to alert one of the nurses that she was there.
"Char, you're here!" Sheila, one of the nurses exclaimed, as she walked to her seat behind the counter. Sitting in the rolling chair, she pulled up to her computer and began typing. Char was happy to see Sheila, one of her favorite nurses. Sheila, in her mid-fifties stood around four-foot-eleven, and had shoulder length, rich, luscious chestnut brown curls, fair skin, rosy cheeks, and a round build. She had a warm and inviting demeanor and had the ability to make any patient feel at home. With over 30 years on the job, Sheila had become one of the most widely recognized and well-respected Nurses at the Arnold Palmer Hospital for Women and Children, winning many awards for her exemplary work.
"How are you today, Sheila?" Char asked, sliding the mint under her tongue.
"I'm just great, darling" Sheila smiled. She pulled out a binder and put it on top of the counter, sliding it to Char. "You go ahead and sign in, and I'll enter you into the system."
Opening the binder to the volunteer sign-in sheet, Char grabbed a pin from a cup on the counter and wrote her name, the time, and reason for visit in the next available slot. "Anything changed since last week?" Char asked, making small talk. Once she was done signing in, she placed the ink pen back into the cup, closed the binder and gave it back to Sheila.
"We've got new babies," Sheila replied. She opened the drawer that attached to her desk and pulled out a name tag with Char's name on it and reached across the counter to hand it to her. Char clipped the name tag onto the right side of her scrub top. "They're going to need lots of loving."
Char's heart swelled with the prospect of holding a new baby. "Great," Char smiled. "I can't wait to meet them."
After signing in with Sheila, Char made her way down the hall to the nursery and stopped just short of entering. She always needed a moment to compose herself before walking into the room. The sight of tiny, innocent, and defenseless babies hooked up to various wires, IVs, and tubes was a lot to take in. Seeing babies in any sort of pain or discomfort broke her heart. Once she worked up the nerve, she lightly tapped on the large wooden door to alert the nurse that she was there.
"Hello Char, come on in." Vivian, a younger African American nurse waved. "It's so good to see you again." Vivian was a recent graduate from Florida A&M University, receiving her Master of Science in Nursing. She was the newest addition to the Arnold Palmer NICU, but she fit in perfectly, and the babies took to her so easily. Vivian, in her mid-twenties stood at 5'4 and around 130 pounds. She had golden brown skin, high cheekbones, almond shaped brown eyes, and kept her long, relaxed jet-black hair pulled into a high ponytail.
"Hi Vivian," Char replied. She pressed her hand against the hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall next to the door and cleansed her hands before entering. Upon walking into the nursey, she surveyed the incubators and cribs, observing the babies. She walked to a crib in the corner of the room, to see Jordan, an 8-week-old that she had grown attached to. Jordan had been born two months prematurely. He was seemingly healthy, but underweight. Over the past few weeks since his feeding schedule had been adjusted, he was steadily gaining. "Jordan's getting so big," Char marveled.
"He won't be here much longer," Vivian said. She was at the changing station, changing a diaper and dressing one of the babies in a new onesie.
"That's good. But I will miss him," Char replied, taking him in. Jordan looked up at her and smiled ear-to-ear as if recognizing her. He stretched his arms overhead and kicked his feet excitedly. Char's heart soared at the sight. "It's so hard not to get attached."
"You're telling me," Vivian said. She placed the baby girl back into her crib and went to the sink to wash her hands. "I just keep telling myself that if they're not here anymore, it's because they're healthier, and now they can go on and live a good life."
How Char wished that were true for every baby.
"I want you to meet someone," Vivian said. "You can sit down, and I'll bring her to you."
Char walked over to the large leather rocking chair and sat down. A few moments later, Vivian was approaching her with a baby. While Char knew she had a baby in her arms, from where she was sitting it looked like Vivian was cradling a big bundle of blankets.
"This is Gracie," Vivian said softly as not to startle the newborn. Vivian leaned forward with the baby girl, and Char scooted to the edge of her seat.
Char's breath caught in her throat at the sight. She was so tiny, and Char observed the leads attached to her chest, poking out from her onesie. She couldn't have weighed more than two pounds.
"You can hold her," Vivian encouraged, offering Char the baby.
"I-I can't," Char stuttered.
"Of course, you can," Vivian assured her. "You can do it!"
"What if... what if I hurt her?" Char asked. She could hardly stand to look at the baby. She seemed so delicate, so fragile, her paper-thin skin wrinkling as she writhed and wriggled.
"You won't hurt her," Vivian said reassuringly. "All you have to do is sit back and hold her for a while."
"What's her story?" Char asked curiously.
"She's 2 weeks old, born at twenty-eight weeks, and recently off of oxygen." Vivian replied.
Char's heart dropped. Twenty-eight weeks.
"Today was the last day that her mother's insurance would cover her hospital stay. Charlotte, Gracie's mother went home a while ago. She's going to rest up a little, get a bite to eat, shower, and then she'll be back a little later in the day to come and visit. Her husband is on deployment in Bosnia."
"So, she's all alone?" Char asked, looking up at Vivian.
"Only for a few hours or so," Vivian explained. "This baby girl needs a little extra loving today. This is the longest she's been without her mommy. Do you want to hold her?"
Char nodded. Vivian gently placed the newborn in her arms, and Char held her securely, sinking back into the rocking chair. She cradled the baby in her right arm and began to softly rock. Vivian smiled at the sight.
"All of the babies have been changed and fed, and their medicines administered. A doctor may stop by to take one of the babies for testing or x-rays, so all-in-all everything's running smoothly, so today should be a pretty easy day," Vivian explained. "I have to make a run really quick down the hall, but I'll be back shortly. Barbara one of the neonatal nurses will be in here to join you in a minute. If anything happens between then, you know to push the red button," Vivian pointed to the red emergency button next to the rocking chair on the wall.
"Okay," Char nodded.
"Great," Vivian smiled. "See you in a little bit."
Char watched as Vivian exited the nursery and turned her attention to little Gracie. "Hi beautiful," she said, staring down at the newborn.
As if understanding Char, Gracie began to softly coo.
Char adjusted Gracie a little further up her chest, and nuzzled her nose in between her neck and head, taking in her fresh baby smell. Pulling back, she softly caressed her cheek, observing her features. Her pink, almost translucent skin, blue veins, silky jet-black hair that lay flat on her head, long thick eyelashes that fanned her face, and breathtaking grey eyes. With a rounded button nose, and soft pink lips, she was perfect. Like a baby doll. Gracie's eyes locked with Char's, and the infant gave her an intense, look. As if she knew Char. It was as if the world had stopped around them, and they were the only two in the room.
Blinking rapidly, Char couldn't stop the tears from falling from her eyes. Cradling Gracie in her right arm, Char quickly wiped the tears with her left hand so they wouldn't fall in Gracie's face. She quickly returned her left arm under her right for support. Staring at this precious baby and hearing her soft coos had broken the dam of emotions that she had so desperately pent up in the last year. Staring into Gracie's eyes was almost like staring into the eyes of an angel. It was almost too good to be true. It was as if Gracie was Noelle.
For as long as Char could remember, she'd always wanted a baby sister. All her cousins had siblings, and she was the only one who didn't. She was the ‘lonely only'. Sure, it was nice growing up with cousins, she'd always had a guaranteed best friend to hang out with, but they weren't siblings. Slumber parties and play dates only lasted so long. Eventually they'd have to go back home, leaving Char all alone. Growing up she'd watched her cousins' bond in ways that only siblings could, and fight in ways that only siblings could. She'd grown envious wishing that she could engage in a sibling rivalry. What would it be like to crawl into your sisters' bed and stay up all night gossiping together or French braiding each other's hair?
As she grew older, Char had eventually come to accept that she would always be an only child. It inspired her to foster real relationships and form familial like relationships with her closest of friends. She felt that she finally had that in JC, Heather, and Tyler. Well, that is until JC became her boyfriend. But Heather and Tyler she considered her fictive kin.
Just when Char had come to terms with the fact that she would never have siblings, she got the surprise of a lifetime when her parents announced that they were having a baby.
"A-a baby? Mom, you're pregnant?" Char asked excitedly, though trying not to get her hopes up.
"Yes honey, I'm pregnant!" Diannah exclaimed.
Char looked from her father to her mother trying to properly articulate her excitement. "Seriously?" She squealed.
"Seriously," Lennie said. "Charise, you're going to be a big sister!"
Not being able to contain her excitement, Char screamed at the top her lungs. She wrapped her arms around her parents, embracing them in a group hug. The news coming just a few weeks after her birthday, Char considered this the best gift ever.
She was 15 and would be almost 16 by the time the baby was born, so it was little too late for sharing secrets in the middle of the night or riding bikes together, but still, she would have a baby sister- or brother- that would be all her own. A perfect little baby, that had her blood flowing through its veins. She was determined to be the best big sister ever.
Over the next few months, when Char wasn't taping the final season of MMC or doing schoolwork, she was completely dedicated to her mom and the new baby. Accompanying her mother to ultrasounds and Lamaze classes when her father couldn't make it. Being a newly permitted driver, Char would hop in either her mom or dad's car, with JC or Rhona Bennett, or any of the other licensed drivers of the MMC in the passenger seat, and drive to the mall to buy new stuff for the baby. Every week she'd bring home new onesies, pacifiers, teething rings, and whatever she could get her hands on.
"You're going to spoil this baby rotten," Diannah would say.
"It's my right as a big sister," Char would respond. She was over the moon to finally be getting a sibling. Growing up, she'd always wanted a sibling close in age, but now she realized that it was better this way, because she could appreciate it so much more. Being that her parents were older this parenting go-round, Char was ready to step in and help with nighttime feedings and changings, doctor's appointments, Gymboree classes and whatever else was necessary. She loved and wanted this child so much, and she wanted to become like a second mother to it. Her excitement was quadrupled when they learned that Diannah was carrying a girl.
A girl! Char was getting a little sister. Something she had prayed to God for every night for years. When the doctor informed Diannah, Lennie, and Char at the ultrasound appointment that the baby was a girl, Char had been so overcome with emotion, she couldn't stop crying tears of joy. A perfect little girl who she could guide through life. She'd already had it all planned out; taking her sister to dance and cheer practices, doing her hair and makeup for pageants, giving her advice about boys, and helping her navigate the difficulties of adolescence. She couldn't wait to finally meet her little sister.
The holiday season of 1994 had been just as exciting as the previous years. It was the beginning of December, and the Wilson household had been decorating for Christmas. Char had just finished placing some gifts under the tree. That year, when her parents had asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she told them that she'd already gotten what she'd always wanted, a sister. No gift could possibly top that, so she told her parents not to worry about getting her a gift. They were giving her the greatest gift of all, the gift of life. Most of the gifts under the tree had been ones that Char had bought for the new baby: blankets, rattles, and many other toys that would be of no use until she was at least six months old. 1994 had been the best year yet, and Char was extremely grateful.
"Mom," Char called, as she descended the front stairs into the living room. "I'm baking a Mississippi mud cake tonight, but we're out of eggs and powdered sugar, so I'm headed to the store," she announced. Char walked over to the coat hook by the front door and grabbed her denim jacket and put it on. She retrieved her Doc Martens from the closet and put them on her feet. She grabbed the extra copy of Diannah's car key that she had printed just for Char from the coat hook and did a quick hair check in the mirror opposite the coat hook. "Mom?" Char called again once she realized that Diannah hadn't responded. "Mom did you hear me?" Char asked, making her way from the living room into the kitchen.
Where is she? Char wondered, as she laid her eyes on the empty kitchen. Maybe she's in her office, Char thought. She decided to take the backstairs from the kitchen since it was closest to her mother's office. Char circled around the island, but stopped abruptly when she found Diannah unconscious, on the floor, lying in a pool of blood.
"MOM!" Char screamed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
With undetected, and therefore undiagnosed placenta previa, Diannah had gone into premature labor, at only six months pregnant; twenty-eight weeks. Char anxiously awaited while her mother had been taken back for an emergency cesarean section to save both her and the baby. Her father, being the only allowed back with mother, meant that Char was left in the waiting room by herself.
After Diannah had been taken into the operating room, Char made sure to call her family back home, as well as the Chasezs to let them know what happened.
Too nervous to sit down, Char anxiously paced the floors of the Arnold Palmer Labor and Delivery unit. Please God, please let them be okay. Please just let them be okay. Please let them live. These were the only words that came to her as she silently prayed.
"Char honey, we came as soon as we heard!" Char looked up to see Karen, Roy, JC, Heather, and Tyler coming through the double doors of the waiting room and rushing to her.
Char felt a small wave of relief as she saw the familiar faces hurrying to her side.
"What happened? How is she? The baby?" Karen asked, her words coming out in a rush.
"I-I was headed to the store when I found her collapsed on the kitchen floor. She was unconscious and bleeding, so I called an ambulance. Dad was at work, and he got here as fast as he could." Char explained.
"Oh my God," Karen gasped.
JC wrapped his arms around Char, and she instantly collapsed into a fit of tears, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Noelle Analia Wilson made her way into the world on December 06, 1994. Weighing one pound and ten ounces, she was born fighting for her life. She would have to spend the next few months in the NICU, in an incubator while she finished developing, and wouldn't be released until she weighed at least five pounds, but the prognosis was good. Being in the incubator would allow her to properly develop and grow out of her health complications that were the result of being born preterm. The nationally recognized and highly reputable pediatric doctors at Arnold Palmer were certain that in a few months Noelle would be perfectly healthy and go on to live a happy and full life.
Diannah was making an uncharacteristically swift recovery from surgery, and the doctors were surprised and pleased with her progress. Lennie and Char were overwhelmed with relief that both Diannah and Noelle had survived such a life-threatening ordeal.
"Sweetie, go home, get some rest. Your father's here, we'll be fine" Diannah said, stroking her daughter's hair. Char was curled up in the hospital bed, snuggled against Diannah.
"Mom, I'm not leaving your side. Or Noelle's. I'm not going anywhere," Char protested. She'd almost lost her mother and sister all at once, she wasn't letting them out of her sight.
"Honey, your mother's right. When was the last time you had a decent meal? Have you even slept in the last three days?" Lennie asked. He was seated in the recliner, next to the hospital bed.
"I'm sorry Daddy, but I'm not leaving."
Lennie sighed, staring at his daughter regretfully. He'd been so busy opening the Orlando branch of his car dealership, trying his best to provide a certain lifestyle for his family, as they had become accustomed to in Nashville, that he had unintentionally neglected them. Char had grown up faster than she had to, filling in a role and taking on responsibilities that were his and his alone. How had he let his daughter carry this family all on her shoulders?
"Babygirl," Lennie said to Char. "You've been amazing, and I cannot thank you enough, nor can I ever repay you for all that you've done. "Your mother and I are eternally grateful for you and all you've done. But there's nothing more you can do. This is out of your hands now. Please, go home and get some rest, and please eat something. I'll call you a cab."
Char looked from her mother to her father and back again. What if I leave and something happens? She thought. I'd never forgive myself.
"He's right," Diannah said. "Please get some rest baby, if not for you, then at least for us. We're already worried about one of our daughters, and we don't need to worry about another."
Her mother was right. She had just gone through a c-section and traumatic operation. Noelle had a long journey ahead of her. She didn't want to add to her parents' stress level by having to worry about her too. "Okay," she croaked, her voice dry and hoarse. "I'll go, but I want to see Noelle first."
"Of course," Diannah said. "Blow her a kiss for me."
"I love you Mommy," Char whispered, placing a kiss on top of her mother's forehead.
"I love you more, baby," Diannah replied.
Char got up from the bed and walked over to her father who stood up from the recliner and embraced his daughter in a hug. "I love you Daddy."
"I love you more, babygirl," Lennie said before planting a kiss atop her head.
Char retrieved her shoes from under the hospital bed and slipped them on. She grabbed her purse and jacket from the dresser drawer next to her mother's hospital bed. She slipped on her jacket, and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Once closed, she leaned against the door to steady herself and caught her breath. "I can do this," she said to herself quietly.
With every footstep feeling heavier than the one before it, Char made her way to the nursery. She found Noelle's incubator, and stood over it, looking down at her baby sister. Even with all the various wires, leads, IVs, and the nasal cannula hooked up to the oxygen tank helping her to breathe, Noelle was absolutely beautiful. She was perfect in every way, and Char had never known that she could love someone as much as she loved her. Looking at Noelle, she was so filled with love, she felt as is if she grew a second heart. She'd never felt a love so pure, so all consuming, and it devastated her to see Noelle so tiny, so fragile. She wished it were her in that incubator. She'd gladly be the one attached to all the wires, if it meant that Noelle didn't have to be. She'd switch places with her in a heartbeat. She watched as Noelle's chest slowly rose and fell. Her eyes slowly began to open. She blinked rapidly adjusting her focus. Char wasn't sure if Noelle could see or hear her, but she could just imagine how scared and confused she must feel. Her heart ached. If only she could make Noelle better.
"Noelle, it's me," Char cried, tears streaming down her face, and her throat beginning to close. "I'm your big sister, Charise, and I love you so, so much. Be strong, okay babygirl? And remember that I'm always here for you. Always."
Suddenly Char felt a pair of arms wrap around her torso. Startled, she turned to see who it was. She looked up to see JC. "Jace, what are you doing here?" She asked. Char brought her hands to her face to wipe her tears.
"Your dad called me," JC replied. He looked down into the incubator to see Noelle. "She's beautiful," he smiled sadly.
"Yeah, she is," Char agreed. She turned back around focusing her attention on her sister.
"She's gonna be okay," JC said, placing his chin on Char's shoulder. "Afterall, she's a Wilson, she's strong." He kissed Char's cheek, and wrapped his arms around her waist, embracing her.
"You're right, she's gonna be just fine," Char said decidedly.
"You ready?" JC asked.
"Yeah," Char replied. She gave Noelle one final look and kissed the incubator twice. Once for her, and once for her mother. She took JC by the hand, and he led her out of the nursery.
"You're coming home with me," JC explained. "Mom's got the guestroom all ready, and she's making your favorite."
"Her chili?" Char asked hopefully.
"Yup." JC replied.
"Sounds great."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
December 22, 1994
It had been two weeks since Noelle's birth, and Diannah had been released from the hospital, continuing to recover at home. Noelle was still in the NICU, and Char had alternated time with her parents to go visit her, so she that Noelle would only be spending a minimal amount of time without family. The last two weeks had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Noelle had gained two pounds, reaching a high weight of three pounds, ten ounces, but lost one pound just as quickly as she had gained the two. Not taking to her bottle, she had to be fed through an IV. Having persistent respiratory issues, her doctors had switched her nasal cannulas for an oxygen mask. Diannah nearly fainted at the sight of her fragile two-pound baby girl with an oxygen mask covering her face.
Throughout it all, Char tried to be the strong one in her family and keep the faith. She brought her Bible to the hospital with her every day and read Noelle scriptures.
He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless. Isaiah 40:29
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand- Isaiah 41:10
God is within her; she will not fail. Psalm 46:5
In the past two days, Noelle had experienced some improvement. She gained five ounces, brining her back up to almost three pounds, her breathing was getting better, and she had begun to latch on to her bottle. Things were looking up for baby Noelle, and everyone was hopeful.
It was Char's shift at the hospital, and she could not wait to spend some one-on-one time with her sister. When she approached the incubator, she was surprised to see Noelle writhing and kicking playfully, with the most strength and energy that she'd every seen from her. Char's heart soared at the sight. "Hi Noelle!" She could've sworn Noelle was smiling back, and she was sure her heart would burst.
"Do you want to hold her?" Sheila, the NICU nurse asked.
"I can hold her?" Char asked surprised. For some reason she thought that only her parents could hold her.
"You sure can," Sheila replied. "In fact, skin-to-skin contact could be what she needs right now."
"Okay!" Char said excitedly, anxious to hold her sister for the very first time. She sat in the leather rocking chair in the corner of the room. Sheila detached a few of Noelle's wires, and picked her up from the incubator, she then brought Noelle over to Char. Char unbuttoned the first few buttons of the red flannel shirt she was wearing, revealing the tiniest bit of skin. She held her arms out, and Sheila gently placed Noelle in her arms.
Char cradled Noelle and took her in. She was in complete awe as the world melted around her. She couldn't believe she was finally holding her. It felt so surreal. Char looked down at her, and Noelle, reaching her tiny baby hand up, touched Char's face. Noelle knew who she was. Tears of joy began streaming down her face. "I love you so much babygirl," Char said, rocking her sister.
Char unzipped Noelle's onesie halfway, revealing a little skin. She brought Noelle to her chest so that they could have skin to skin contact. She could feel Noelle's tiny heart beating, and it felt like Heaven. Just her and sister, nothing else mattered. She could stay like this forever.
Char was able to rock Noelle to sleep, and she continued to hold her, and watched as she slumbered. She looked so at peace. Her face looked completely serene, her chest rising and falling to a rhythm. Char would cherish this moment forever.
That day, Noelle would take her last breath in Char's arms, leaving Char forever scarred. Her world shattered.
Char heard the baby cooing, and snapped back into the present, realizing that she was holding baby Gracie, not Noelle. She looked down at Gracie, who seemingly smiled at her, just like Noelle had, and her chest tightened. How is it, that this baby who looked just like Noelle, was born at twenty-eight weeks like Noelle, and was two weeks old, just like Noelle had been, had been placed in Char's arms one year, to the day of her sister's death, in the same room, in the exact same chair?
Suddenly, Gracie started crying, startling Char. She began to panic, worrying it was something she did.
"Oh, looks like it's her feeding time." Char looked up to see Sheila entering the nursery with a bottle.
How long had Char been there? She looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5:00 pm. She'd arrived at 2:00 pm.
"Have you been holding her this whole time, darling?" Sheila asked, taking Gracie from her arms. She stuck the bottle in her mouth and satisfied, she instantly stopped crying.
"I-I guess so," Char stammered, coming back to herself. She'd been so wrapped up in her memories of Noelle that she hadn't realized how much time had passed. Her volunteer shift was over. "I guess I just lost track of time."
Sheila looked at Char, realization dawning on her about what day it was. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Char lied.
"You know darling, it's okay not to be okay." Sheila had this was of making people feel comfortable. It was like her superpower. Maybe that's why she was so many of the babies' favorites.
"I don't know if I'll ever be okay," Char admitted. "She died in my arms."
"I know sweetie, I am so sorry," Sheila said sympathetically. "I'm not going to pretend to know what to say, but what I will say is that I'm always here for you."
Char smiled. "Thank you, Sheila, you're the best."
"Oh, it's nothing," Sheila said modestly.
"Well, I've got to go, I'll see you next week," Char said standing up. "Have a Merry Christmas, Sheila."
"You, too darling," Sheila said, as she began to burp Gracie. "Send your mama my love."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A little while later that evening, on her drive home, Char contemplated everything that had happened at the hospital. Every time she thought about baby Gracie, she got chills. It startled her how much she looked like Noelle, and the striking similarities of their births. For those three hours that she held Gracie, she felt like she was holding Noelle. She almost didn't hold her. Noelle died in her arms. She didn't want to relive that over again. Even though she was hesitant at first, holding Gracie gave Char a strange sense of peace. It was almost like a healing of some sort, some kind of closure, and after leaving the hospital she felt a lightness that she hadn't felt since before that tragic day one year ago.
Approaching the intersection of Park and Wiltshire that Char always took on her route home, she saw that there was road work being done, forcing her to take a detour. She took the left turn that the traffic director had pointed to, which led her down Highview Lane. She'd only taken this route a few times, back when she was practicing for her driver's test. It was a little past 5:30 pm, so it was already dark out, and the tall trees that aligned each side of the road obstructed the streetlights. Char slowed her pace as not to miss her turn that would get her back to usual path. As she slowly crept up the street, she saw a bright light to her left just ahead of her. Curious, Char slowed as she approached it, realizing it was the Grace Gathering Church, fully alive, and completely lighting up the dark road. She hadn't realized that they had Friday night services. She observed as people filtered in through the front doors of the building.
Honk, honk!
Char looked through her rear-view mirror, realizing that she had a line of cars behind her. She was holding up traffic. Oops! Quickly, Char took the left turn in to the church's parking lot. She found an empty spot and pulled into. Turning her car off, she sat there for a moment in silence, contemplating. Why had she decided to pull into the church parking lot? She hadn't been to church in God knows how long. She continued to watch the people filter into the building, greeting each other at the door. The building looked like a large middle school, instead of a typical church building, and the congregants weren't dressed all fancy like what she was used to back at her old Baptist church in Nashville. None of the ladies wore big fancy hats and strings of pearls. No men in pinstriped suits. The little girls didn't wear frilly dresses with tulle and lace, and the little boys weren't outfitted in brightly colored, preppy Ralph Lauren kids' polos and pressed, starched khakis. Everyone she saw enter the church was dressed casually. Jeans and T-shirts, sneakers, and hoodies. From what she observed there seemed to be a lot of teens and young adults who enthusiastically greeted each other, rather than looking like their parents had to pull teeth just to get them into the house of the Lord. Everything and everybody looked so warm and welcoming. Finally, Char decided that she would check it out. It was just church, what did she have to lose?
Char unbuckled her seat belt, took the keys out of the ignition, and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. She opened the door, got out of her 1994 red Ford Mustang, and locked the door behind her. She took the walkway that led from the parking lot to the front door of the church and was greeted at the door by a young guy and girl who looked to be around her age.
"Hi, welcome to Grace Gathering!" The girl said enthusiastically. The guy handed her a program, and a glow stick. A glow stick? She wasn't sure why she'd need a glow stick walking into a church, but she took it, nonetheless.
"Thank you," Char smiled before walking in through the double doors. Upon entering the building, Char observed the long hallways, sleek tile floors, and bulletin boards filled with church announcements, and surmised that the church was in fact a former school building. There were crowds of people chattering amongst themselves, and she heard sounds of music floating out into the hallway. She followed a group of people ahead of her into what looked like an auditorium. The room was huge, and the music was booming. She took a seat, by herself, towards the back of the room and observed her surroundings.
She looked at the stage, and it was filled with instruments, and a podium, with monitors hanging from the ceiling. It looked more like she was attending a concert, rather than a church service. Suddenly the lights dimmed, making the room almost black and the music over the speakers stopped. The congregation began clapping, whooping, and hollering.
"Alright Grace Gathering let me hear you make some noise!!!" An amplified voice announced. Bright lights beamed down on the stage, revealing musicians walking out, and taking their positions with their instruments on the stage. "Are y'all ready to have a good time in the Lord, tonight?!" A young woman, front and center yelled into the microphone, her speaking voice low and raspy. The audience enthusiastically yelled back her. This took Char by surprise, who was normally used to the shouts of Won't He do it! and Hallelujah! The girl at the microphone looked to be college aged. She was white, with jet black hair, pulled into a ponytail with asymmetrical fringe bangs. Char squinted and could make out what she thought to be a nose and lip piercing. The girl wore denim overall shorts with a white t-shirt underneath, and a red flannel long sleeve shirt on top, worn as a sweater. She wore white chunky Fila disruptors, and her right leg was covered in colorful, flowery tattoos. She looked more like a rock star, than a church singer.
The band began playing. There was a female bass player, a male electric guitar player, a female keyboardist, and a male drummer in addition to the lead singer, and backup singers comprised of two men, and two women. This was a far cry from the gospel choirs that she grew up singing in. They were a rock band. It was like MTV- but Jesus-fied.
They began to play, and everyone in the auditorium was up on their feet. Char recognized the familiar chords of the song but couldn't quite place it. It had been embellished by the slick sounds of the bass and electric guitar, and the up-tempo drumming. The lead singer began the opening lines to the song.
O, come all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye
To Bethlehem.
The lyrics were displayed on the monitors, and the congregation sang along. The lead singer's voice was beautiful. She looked grunge but sounded like Amy Grant. Char looked around her, and people were swaying, some had their hands lifted in worship.
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
O come let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
Feeling the music Char began to sway and sing along. As the song winded down, the band swiftly went into an up-tempo rocked-out version of. ‘The First Noel'. The hairs on the back of Char's neck stood up. Her parents chose the name Noelle because she had been born in December, and she was their perfect gift from God, and Analia meant ‘Grace' and was of Spanish origin. The band was playing ‘The First Noelle' in a church called Grace Gathering, and she'd held a baby named Gracie that day. Her Nanna Della always told her that God was in the details. Char felt instantly comforted, as if she were surrounded by Noelle's presence.
Tears began to stream down her face. Not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. It was as if God was telling her that Noelle was okay. Char was overcome with emotion. She hadn't felt the presence of God in a long time and had stopped attending church altogether. In this moment, she was being ministered to through the music, and felt as if God was speaking directly to her.
After playing ‘The First Noel', the band began to play a familiar pop tune, that took Char by surprise.
"Alright y'all, put your hands together if you believe that Jesus can change everything!" The lead singer yelled. The congregation clapped and screamed loudly. The singer started to sing the opening lines of ‘Everything Changes' by Kathy Troccoli, the popular Christian-pop crossover hit.
Everything changes
Nothing looks the same through the eyes of love
Everything changes (everything changes)
When you love some, love some, love someone
Everything changes
The congregation waved their hands, jumped, screamed. It was like being at a concert, and the worship felt so genuine. No strict rules, regulations, or rituals. Just genuine, pure worship. This was the freest Char felt in forever. She began to let herself go and surrender to worship.
After the song ended, the band began to play a slow, soft, instrumental tune. The lead singer walked further downstage and began to speak. "As we wrap up another year, here on this earth, I just want to thank the Lord for delivering us." The crowd whooped and hollered in response. There was a few Amens and Yes Lords. "You know we can get kind of caught up in the ways of the world, and take our focus off the Lord, and the things that He has planned for us. We turn on the news and we see reports of wars and famine, death, and destruction. There maybe times when we may not be able to pay our bills or know where our next meal is coming from. It can be easy to be discouraged and disheartened by the things we see in the world. We begin to lose hope and question our faith. But when the world says one thing, I look to the word for truth."
"2 Chronicles 15:7 says But you take courage! Do not let your hands be weak, for your work shall be rewarded."
There were claps and cries of Thank you God. The singer continued to speak.
"John 16:33 says, Be of good cheer; for I have overcome the world. So, when you feel discouraged about what you see in the world, remember the promises that God has in store for us; plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. So, with that in mind, I want you all to join me in this next song, I'm sure most of you may know it."
The singer walked back to her original spot and clasped her microphone back in its stand. The keyboardist started off the song. A melody in F minor. A melody that Char was well familiar with. The guitarist soon joined in.
If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all ok
And not to worry because worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
"Hands" by Jewel. Which struck Char as odd because she never thought of it as a Christian song. As she sang along to the song, she applied a deeper meaning to it, than she had before.
I will not be made useless
I won't be idled with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear
Everyone in the auditorium broke out their glow sticks and began to sway them back and forth, lighting up the room.
My hands are small, I know,
But they're not yours they are my own
But they're not yours they are my own
And I am never broken
She thought of Noelle, her tiny hands. How they had reached out and touched her face. She was in God's hands now.
In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters
I will get down on my knees and I will pray
I will get down on my knees and I will pray
I will get down on my knees and I will pray
My hands are small, I know,
But they're not yours they are my own
But they're not yours they are my own
And I am never broken
By the end of the song, Char was an emotional wreck. For the past year, she had put up an icy façade that no one could penetrate, and tonight, it all melted away.
"Alright y'all, thank you for worshiping us tonight, now I'm pleased and honored to introduce our pastor Kyle Davidson, who's about to bring the house down with an amazing message!" The crowd clapped in response. "You may be seated." No one sat down. Char sat down in her seat, and then stood back up not sure of what to do with herself.
After the worship band closed out their set, they turned off their instruments and walked off stage. The lights in the auditorium had been turned up, and a young twenty-something man with a headset walked onto the stage. He was racially ambiguous with short jet-black curls cropped closely to his head. He wore a black short-sleeved graphic t-shirt that read Let the Dead Bury the Dead, revealing sleeves of tattoos on both arms, and jeans that were ripped at the knee with black high-top Converse. He looked more like a hipster barista who moonlighted as a tattoo artist somewhere in Seattle, rather than the pastor of a church. It was the cherry on top of the culture shock, as Char was used to older men in three-piece suits at the pulpit.
"That was amazing!" He exclaimed. "C'mon and give it up for the Grace Gathering Worship Team," he clapped. The crowd clapped again. "Before we get started with tonight's message, I just wanted to thank you all for being here tonight, and praise the Lord bringing us all here together to worship. I want to start off by reading a passage, and then I'll lead us in prayer."
A bible verse appeared on the monitors. James 4:8 Draw near to God, and He will Draw near to You. "It's that simple," Pastor Kyle said. "Let us pray." Everyone bowed their heads as he led the congregation in prayer.
Char sat back down in her seat, and intently listened to Pastor Kyle's sermon. He had made the Bible make so much sense. He'd made God make sense to her. As he preached about drawing near to God and taking comfort in Him in times of great adversity. It had dawned on Char that the reason that she hadn't felt God's presence in her life was not because He wasn't there, but because she had stopped seeking Him out. She had completely shut Him out after Noelle died, instead of taking comfort In Him.
As if reading her mind, Pastor Kyle spoke these words, ending his sermon with, "God loves you; God wants a relationship with you. He's at the door, all you have to do is let Him in. He's too loving to ever force his presence onto you. So, if you want to feel the presence of God in your life all you have to do is open your heart. He's there. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you."
That night, towards the end of service, Char took communion, and went down to altar call. She got prayed over by Julia, the lead singer of the worship team. People she'd never met had prayed for her and welcomed her with open arms. She felt a warm, welcoming, genuine love that she had never felt from a group of strangers, although they didn't feel so strange. That night, Char felt like a new creation. She had been healed.
