Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

Mitch laughed. “He’s got girls calling him all the time. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since he got home last week.”

Christopher blushed to the roots of his hair.

“Good for you. You’ve always been good at making friends.” Dawn tried to keep things light. It was Christmas, after all. Had all gone well, she would have had a newborn in her arms.

And a child shall be born to you…

Jason agreed to go to Jenner. They spent the last four days with Granny. Dawn and Jason walked on the beach every afternoon. They sat on the sand and watched the waves. On the last night, he went to bed before she did. Granny broached the subject everyone else had avoided. “You’ll have a baby, Dawn. I know it. I feel it!”

Dawn cried and blew her nose. She felt like Hannah in the Old Testament, begging God for a child. “It’s up to God, Granny. I have to accept that it may not be His will for me.”

“Nonsense. You have time, honey. You’re young. Keep trying.”

Dawn knew trying wasn’t the answer. God was. And she was going to trust Him with her future, no matter how difficult it might be right now.

On the long flight home, Dawn dreamed she sat on the beach north of Goat Rock. The wind blew warmer than usual, sun sparkling off turquoise and green waves. Dawn felt the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. Granny and Mom sat nearby, talking together as they never had before. A little girl with long blonde hair pranced along the edge of the waves. Water splashed up like white flashing lights around the child’s knees. She flapped her arms like a bird learning to fly. Now and then, she stooped and picked up a sea-washed rock, a bit of driftwood, a seagull feather, then raced up the beach to show off her treasures. Dawn got up and went down to join the child. She danced with her in the frothy, foaming waves. She felt happy. She felt free.

Dawn awakened in the darkness, the hum of jet engines soothing. Jason slept, his knees wedged against the seat in front of him. She saw the moon outside the airplane window and city lights below. She felt at peace for the first time since losing the baby, hope rising inside her like a sunrise.

Jason awakened and took her hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” More than okay. “I had a wonderful dream, Jason.” She told him all about it.

“Sounds like a promise.”

“It was.”

1998

Dawn painted the spare bedroom a pale pink. She added furnishings: a crib; a white dresser; a gliding rocker; a plush, pale blue area rug. She hung an embroidered alphabet sampler she found at a garage sale.

As each month passed, Jason seemed less certain. He brought up adoption. She said, yes, that was something they might consider. Eventually. His suggestion didn’t diminish her faith. The dream would come to pass. In God’s perfect timing-not hers, not Jason’s.

“You know I can get transferred at any time, Dawn.”

“I know.”

“You’re putting a lot of time in that bedroom.” The house didn’t belong to them. “We may have to move. What then?”

“We’ll take the furniture. I’ll start over.”

Jason’s six-year commitment to the Army was coming to an end, too. By next year he would need to make a decision about his future. They talked about what Jason could do as a civilian. The opportunities seemed endless.

“If I stay in the Army, I’d only have fourteen more years before I could retire. I’d still be young enough to start another career.” She asked if that’s what he wanted, if he believed that was what God wanted him to do. Jason said yes.

“We may still get transferred, Dawn. There’s no guarantee we’re going to stay here.”

Dawn knew what really worried Jason, what worried him all the time. He feared she might be crushed if she didn’t become pregnant again soon. She told him God was sovereign. God was trustworthy. Whatever happened, they could trust God with the outcome. Even so, she kept the door to the baby’s room closed, so he wouldn’t have the constant reminder. She held God’s promise close to her heart.

Even after a year, Dawn didn’t lose hope.

When two passed, then three, the ache grew, but her faith didn’t diminish.

2001

Dolores, one of Dawn’s Bible study ladies, called. She sounded on the verge of hysteria. “Are you watching your television?”

“No. Why?”

“Two airliners just crashed into the twin towers of the World Trade Center!”

Dawn sat frozen in front of the television for the rest of the day. She watched the World Trade Center buildings crumble in a cloud of dust and debris over and over. She listened to minute-by-minute reports on how terrorists had hijacked two airliners out of Boston, another hijacked jetliner crashed into the Pentagon, and a fourth went down in a Pennsylvania field after passengers on board the aircraft called family members on cell phones and learned how the other airliners had been used. They fought back, or the fourth plane might have gone into the White House. No one knew yet how many had died. Fifty thousand people worked in and around the World Trade Center.

The front door opened. Dawn jumped up. “Jason!” She flew into his arms.

He held her close for a minute, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. “How long have you been watching the news?”

“All day. Jason, what does this mean for us?”

“We’re at war. That’s what it means.”

“Will you have to go?”

“We’ll have to find out who we’re fighting and where, first.”

Airports shut down. President George Bush flew into New York and stood at ground zero speaking to the rescue workers. He assured them the nation was on bended knee in prayer. When some cried out because they couldn’t hear, Bush said he could hear them , everyone could hear them, and those who had knocked down the buildings “will hear all of us soon!”

People chanted, “USA, USA…”

President Bush called out, “God bless America,” a hope all would cling to in the coming days.

Dawn spent her days reading newspaper stories about heroes: a man who stayed behind to help another man in a wheelchair-both died when the buildings crumbled; firefighters and police officers who worked tirelessly searching for survivors; cadaver dogs and their handlers searching the rubble. The Salvation Army responded to the tragedy. New Yorkers pulled together.

War loomed, but against what country?

Jason was deployed to New York to work with civil engineers. The mammoth job of clearing a city block began. Jason would be gone for months, maybe more if terrorists found other ways to blow up more Americans. Every newscaster speculated on what terrorists might do next-poison water systems, unleash deadly viruses, tote backpack-size atomic bombs.

People flooded into the churches for the first few weeks. Crowds dwindled after three months.

Jason came home to Fort Bragg on weekend leave, burning with anger against Osama bin Laden, who had denied responsibility for the attacks, though the U.S. government still considered him the prime suspect.

Exhausted, he slept twenty-four hours straight, leaving only half a day before he had to go back. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Dawn said she’d come to him next time. Jason ordered her to stay home. He didn’t want her in New York. He wasn’t sure he wanted her at Fort Bragg. What better target for another attack than one of the biggest military bases in the world? He wanted her to go home. She said no. They argued. She cried after he left.

Jason returned to Fort Bragg after three months away. He and Dawn flew home for Christmas again. CCC was packed with new people. “You should have seen it after 9/11,” Mitch told them. Chris asked a dozen questions. Jason made it clear he didn’t want to talk about what he’d seen at ground zero. Granny worried about war and what part Jason would have to play in it. Dawn still prayed diplomacy would work. Mitch and Jason talked behind closed doors. Mom and Dawn had tea and didn’t talk at all.