“You will never stop drinking unless it’s what you want. Tell me, Dana, do you want a drink right now?”

  How did he know? Yes, she wanted a drink. She even felt like she needed a drink. Her head had been bothering her all day and Dana thought a drink might take the edge off. “No, I don’t want a drink.”

  “I know you, probably better than anyone else. And right now you are lying to yourself.”

  “Daddy, I’m scared. Can I sleep in here?”

  Dana heard Ebony’s voice. Her daughter hadn’t asked to sleep with them in over a year. It broke her heart to know she had caused her baby to fear. Tears, tears, tears flowed down her face.

  “I’ll call you back,” Jeff said before hanging up.

  She hung up the phone as pain gripped her heart. Dana wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees up to her chest until she was in the fetal position. She was shaking, but it wasn’t from the pain she felt in her heart. She wanted a drink. Wanted to numb the pain.

  “Dear God, help me. I still want a drink.”

  Chapter 36

  Lisa was in a North Carolina hospital, far from her beloved Brooklyn. She wanted to go home, but she couldn’t get anyone to understand what she was saying. John and Kennedy were hugging each other and crying.

  “I’m not dead. Stop crying.”

  Lisa knew what she was saying, but it came out garbled. John came over to her bed. He wiped the tears from his face. “Good morning, hon. How are you feeling?”

  She wanted to answer him, but she didn’t like the garble coming out of her mouth. Lisa pointed to her lips.

  “You had a stroke, honey. It affected your speech. But once we get you home, you’ll be able to work with a speech therapist.”

  Stroke? How could she have had a stroke? She was only forty-four years old. People didn’t have strokes in their forties, did they?

  “Mama, I don’t want you to worry about anything. You’re alive, and that’s what matters most.” Kennedy’s face was wet with tears. “I’m going to get you some paper so you can write down what you want to say. I’ll be right back.”

  Lisa watched Kennedy walk out of the room. She wished she could get out of this bed and hug her. This was supposed to be Kennedy’s big weekend. But instead of celebrating her college graduation, Kennedy was stuck in the hospital with her mother.

  John sat down next to her bed and put her hand into his. “I called your dad. He’s flying out here in the morning.”

  In the morning? How long was she going to be in the hospital? When would they let her go home? She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask, but she knew John wouldn’t understand her, so she lay there looking at the ceiling, feeling sorry for herself.

  Kennedy came back into the room with a notepad and pencil. She handed them to Lisa. At first, when Lisa tried to grip the pencil with one hand and hold on to the notepad with the other, she noticed her left arm seemed weak and felt heavy to her. She laid the notepad on her lap. Things were so jumbled in her head she couldn’t form a complete sentence, so she wrote: WHAT HAPPENED?

  She hated the look of pity she saw on John’s face as he told her, “You had a stroke.”

  HOW? She wrote the word on her notepad.

  John told her, “We were at Kennedy’s graduation when your mouth drooped and you became unresponsive.”

  WHERE? She pointed around the room with questioning eyes.

  “Oh,” he said as he looked around. “We’re still in Greensboro. We can’t go home until they release you from the hospital.”

  Lisa had never imagined she would be laid up in a hospital in her forties, especially one in North Carolina. She didn’t feel right being here and wanted to go home. What happened to her? WHY DID I STROKE?

  John sighed. Lowered his head.

  Kennedy put a hand on her father’s shoulder as she said, “The doctor said your blood pressure was 200 over 140. He said you’re lucky you didn’t die.”

  Her daughter’s words scared her. How could she die when she never really got a chance to live out any of her plans? She lifted her eyes heavenward and silently prayed, God, I need You. Please don’t let me down.

  * * *

  Dana had been discharged, but she didn’t want to go home. She was afraid of what she would do if she was alone. Closing her eyes, she saw her mother. They were sitting in the living room in their apartment on Lewis Avenue. Vida hugged her and said, “I’m sorry.”

  Back then Vida couldn’t stop destroying their lives, so Dana didn’t believe her mother was sorry for her actionss. The shoe was on the other foot now, which made Dana wish she had given her mother a little more slack.

  She felt her mother’s struggles all the way through her bones as she realized what her drinking had done, but she didn’t know how to stop herself from doing the very thing that was destroying the family she and Jeff had built.

  “Is anybody home?” Sheri asked as she knocked once, then opened the door.

  “You’re late,” Dana said as her sister-in-law entered the room.

  Sheri stopped walking, wrapped her arms around her chest, and leaned back. “Somebody got up on the wrong side of the hospital bed this morning.”

  “Don’t mess with me. I’m not feeling good.”

  Sheri unwrapped her arms and walked over to Dana, who was in one of the chairs in front of her bed. Sheri sat down in the chair next to Dana. She put the back of her hand against Dana’s forehead. “You need me to get the doctor in here?”

  Dana held up a hand. “I’m not that kind of sick. Let’s just go.”

  Sheri opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then leaned over and hugged Dana. “I love you, girl. Don’t you know how much you’re loved?”

  Dana hugged her back. “I love your big-head self too.”

  Sheri touched her head. “Oh, so now I’m big-headed. All right. I’ma let that one slide.”

  The nurse came in with the wheelchair. She smiled at Dana and asked, “Are you ready?”

  Dana nodded. She walked over to the wheelchair and sat down.

  Sheri stood. “Let’s blow this joint.” Sheri walked in front of the wheelchair, and the nurse pushed Dana as they headed to the main entrance.

  “I don’t even have the keys to get into my house,” Dana told Sheri.

  “Jeff gave me your purse and your keys.”

  “So sweet of him.” Dana rolled her eyes. Her husband should have picked her up from the hospital rather than sending his sister as if she was nothing to him. They were everything to each other—at least they had been before Jeff started going back to church. “Is my wonderful husband at church?”

  “Be nice. Jeff worked really hard to get the house cleaned up for you before he and the kids left.”

  The nurse rolled her through the double doors of the main entrance. Dana got out of the wheelchair, thanked the nurse, then told Sheri, “I don’t want to go to the house.”

  Sheri had used her key fob to unlock the car door. “Then where do you want to go . . . and don’t say the liquor store, or I’m telling you now, Dana, I will knock some sense into your head.”

  Dana opened the passenger-side door of Sheri’s white BMW and sat down. When Sheri got in, Dana turned to her. Tears rolled down her face. Yes, God help her, she did want a drink. But she wanted—no, needed—something even more than a drink in her hand. “Take me to my family.”

  “They’re at church. I can’t take you over there so you can act a fool and embarrass Jeff and the kids.”

  Dana put a hand on Sheri’s shoulder. “I don’t want to embarrass them. But I don’t want to go home either. I’m afraid of what I will do if I’m alone. I need my family. They’re all I have in this world, Sheri. Please take me to them.”

  Sheri started crying. She sniffed, wiped her face, and then hugged Dana again. “You have so much, but as I look in your eyes, I can see that nothing you have means more to you than Jeff and those kids.”

  Dana blinked back tears. Jeff, Judah, and Ebony meant the world to her. She needed to figure a way to keep her family together. “I’ll catch a cab if you don’t want to take me.”

  “No! No!” Sheri took a tissue from her console and blew her nose. “You don’t have to do that. I’m going to take you to them, but please, Dana, get some help. Don’t throw away everything that the Lord has blessed you with.”

  Hearing Sheri say that the Lord had blessed her gave Dana pause. All these years she had thought that God was against her. He had to be, or why else did she have such a terrible childhood?

  But then Dana’s thoughts turned to Lisa again. Why had Lisa invited her to church that Sunday? Could she have been on assignment from God? Was God trying to get her attention all these years?

  When they arrived at the church, Dana had every intention of going down each aisle until she spotted her family. She was going to beg Jeff to take her back. She couldn’t make it in this world without him. But as she and Sheri walked into the sanctuary, the choir was singing a song by Kirk Franklin, “Help Me Believe.”

  The words stuck to Dana’s very soul. It was how she had been feeling. She wanted to believe in God. Jeff believed. Her kids believed. Sheri believed. Lisa believed. Why couldn’t she?

  Then the pastor stood behind the podium and said, “Aren’t you tired, son? Aren’t you tired, daughter? Don’t you want to be free of the guilt? Come to the altar and let Jesus show you how to truly be free.”

  The choir started singing, “Help me believe,” again.

  The pastor’s words and the song hit like lightning to a hundred-year-old tree, and all her defenses came tumbling down. This was how she had been feeling for so long. She needed to be free from all the shame and blame that had been dumped on her throughout her life, but no one had ever showed her how to release the hold guilt had on her.

  As tears flowed down her face, Sheri whispered in her ear, “If you want to go to the altar, I’ll walk with you.”

  So much was bubbling inside her that Dana didn’t know how to express herself. She nodded and then put a hand to her mouth as sobs escaped. Suddenly, realization hit her. “I need God. I can’t get better without Him.” She started walking down the aisle.

  The choir kept singing, kept drawing her nearer and nearer to the cross. Kept encouraging her to give it all to God.

  Halfway to the altar, Dana lifted her hands. Still sobbing, she declared, “I want to believe!”

  Sheri was beside her. She was crying as hard as Dana was. When Dana reached the altar, she looked up. The cross was in front of her. She got down on her knees and pleaded with God to take the desire for alcohol away from her . . . to give her another chance with her family . . . to take the shame and guilt away so she could hold her head up again. “Can You help me, Lord? I want to believe You can. Please help me!”

  Dana’s nose was running. A puddle of tears formed on the floor before her as she opened her eyes and saw Sheri, Jeff, Judah, and Ebony holding on to her and crying too. God was doing surgery on her. Removing her old, bruised, battered, and dark heart and replacing it with a new heart. One that pumped with the blood of the risen Savior—her Savior, Jesus Christ.

  And finally, she was free.

  Chapter 37

  Lisa spent two weeks in the hospital before she was allowed to travel back home to Brooklyn. At her first doctor’s appointment since arriving home, Dr. Lawrence informed her he had called in a prescription for blood pressure medication after her last appointment. “My nurse left a message on your cell phone, but I’m not sure if you ever received it.”

  Lisa didn’t remember getting a message, but she searched through the messages on her cell phone later and found it. The call had come on the same day she left for Kennedy’s college graduation. She had been in such a hurry she hadn’t listened to her messages that day.

  Dr. Lawrence also told her that if they couldn’t keep her blood pressure stable, she would very likely have another stroke, and he doubted she would survive it. She wanted to tell him to stop speaking those negative words over her life, but he wouldn’t understand her, so she lowered her head and prayed.

  Lisa had been doing a lot of praying lately. Within the last few years, as her life seemed to fall apart, Lisa had stopped praying . . . she didn’t see the use. But with each prayer she prayed while in the hospital, the Lord seemed to be playing back moments in her life that clearly proclaimed the many ways God had showed up for her; but since things didn’t go as she planned, Lisa had ignored God’s goodness. She’d chosen bitterness and unforgiveness, and now she was reaping the harvest of all she had sown.

  “How are you doing this morning?” Riley Storm, her physical therapist, asked as he entered her room.

  Lisa had a physical therapist for her weakened left arm and leg. She also saw a speech therapist. She was now a month into her therapy and making progress. She wrote on a notepad, DOING FINE. Then she tried to sound the word fine out. “F-f-ine.” Some words came easier than others, but Lisa was encouraged, so she wasn’t giving up.

  “Okay, let’s get you out of this bed and walking around the house.”

  Lisa’s bed was now in the dining room. John had drywall put up to separate the living room from the dining room. Drywall and a door also separated the kitchen from the dining room, which was now their bedroom. She hated that they had changed the footprint of the house but couldn’t imagine going up and down those stairs at this point in her recovery.

  John had helped her shower this morning before he left for work. Kennedy was home with them to help Lisa during the day. She appreciated John and Kennedy’s help.She truly needed it. John had to rent out the lower-level apartment to help with some of her hospital bills so her father had to go back to Florida.

  She wanted him here with her. It was funny how that worked. When she was younger she couldn’t wait to go to college and get out from under her father’s thumb; now she cried every time they ended the Skype call.

  “I’m ready,” she said as she threw the covers off. Her voice . . . she hated it. She had always been a good communicator. Now she opened her mouth and things came out jumbled.

  “Good job, Mrs. Coleman. I understood ‘I’m’ and I could hear the r in the next word you said. You are making great progress with your speech therapist.”

  Lisa couldn’t help herself. She beamed at the compliment. Therapy was hard, but living without the use of her voice and with a weakened left side was worse, so she got out of bed with the use of a walker and was engaged for the entire hour of her session.

  When her physical therapy session was finished, Lisa got back in bed and took her Bible off her nightstand. Before the stroke, Lisa could count on one hand the number of times she picked up her Bible to read while at home in the last ten years. She was always too busy doing this or that. And besides, she had read the Bible from front to back twice in her lifetime.

  Those were the things she had once told herself about why she wasn’t reading her Bible anymore. But life had a way of slowing things down . . . and then in the quiet moments, when everything but God had been stripped away, somehow there was time.

  Lisa was discovering new joy in the Scriptures. The passage bringing her comfort now was Psalm 37:25: “I have been young, and now am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.”

  This scripture meant everything to Lisa. Her daughter had to put law school on hold after Lisa’s stroke. They didn’t have the money to send her to school. But Lisa was holding on to the promises of God, particularly the one in this scripture: the righteous wouldn’t be forsaken and their seed would not have to beg for their needs.

  Oh, she knew her bitter and unforgiving heart was not righteous and her high blood pressure had been brought on by stress and bitterness, but this was a new day. So she asked the Lord, her Savior, whom she had loved for most of her life, to forgive her.

  As she asked the Lord to forgive her for hardening her heart, she realized it was time to release Dana and move on from the hurts of her past. So she asked the Lord, “Please help me to forgive her. I know I should have done this a long time ago. But I need Your help. I don’t want to be bitter any longer.”

  Kennedy came into her room with a bowl of soup. After the stroke, Lisa had issues with swallowing, another thing she had to relearn. Thankfully, she was doing better. But she was still on pureed food or soup.

  “I’ve got tomato soup today, Mom. I know how much you like it.”

  Lisa sat up and clapped, but in her head, she was saying, Yummy. She really did like tomato soup. Would have loved to have some crackers with it, but she would get there. Lisa picked up her notepad and wrote, THANK YOU. She then flipped the pad around so Kennedy could see it.

  “You’re welcome.” Kennedy set the fold-up table in front of Lisa, then helped her mom sit up and slowly swing her legs off the bed so she was in an upright position while eating her soup.

  “Mmm,” Lisa said as she took a spoonful of the soup.

  “Oh, Mom, I almost forgot. I ordered a journal for you. Something you can use to write your thoughts.” She ran out of the room and then came back with a beautiful journal. It had three dancing women on the cover with the caption “Too Blessed to Be Stressed.”

  Lisa smiled at the phrase. Life would be much simpler if she could let issues roll away like the arch of a dancer’s back. Like there was nothing in this world that could make her lose her composure—she knew where her blessings came from. How she wished she’d had this epiphany when she was younger.

  Lisa picked up her notepad. It still had the words thank you on it. She showed it to her daughter again, then continued eating her soup.

  * * *

  Later in the evening when John came home, Lisa used her walker to go into the dining room to eat dinner with him and Kennedy. Her days were a lot simpler, but they were filled with love, and she was thankful.

  John did most of the talking. Lisa listened and nodded in understanding and smiled at his attempts at jokes. Lisa wondered how long it had been since she let John get two words in before she went in about all the grievances she had during her day. She was ashamed of the way she had treated her husband.