Francine Rivers - Her Daughter’s Dream

2002

When Dawn and Jason returned to Fort Bragg, Jason bought a new laptop computer and a Rosetta Stone program on Arabic. “If I get sent anywhere, it’ll be the Middle East.”

Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Army started deploying troops. America couldn’t ignore the murder of three thousand citizens. It was a miracle there hadn’t been tens of thousands. But three thousand was more than the number of lives lost at Pearl Harbor, and the country couldn’t let it go.

Dawn knew the waiting had come to an end when Jason came home and said he had orders to Fort Dix, New Jersey. Dawn packed and followed. She rented a two-bedroom, one-bathroom bungalow off base. She didn’t paint the walls. Every hour with Jason was too precious to waste.

2003

The first U.S. troops were deployed to the Persian Gulf region on January 1. On March 17, President Bush issued an ultimatum to Saddam Hussein, giving him forty-eight hours to leave the country or face war. On March 19, the deadline passed, and Operation Iraqi Freedom began. By April, they took Baghdad and toppled Saddam Hussein’s statue to Iraqi and American cheers.

The hunt for weapons of mass destruction intensified. Hussein had used chemical weapons on the Kurds. Had he buried bombs in the desert the same way he had buried airplanes? Had they been sold and scattered to neighboring countries? Or had it all been an empty boast by a mad dictator?

May rolled around, and Jason received orders for deployment to Iraq. Dawn wept. They made love the way they had when they were first married-hungry, with abandon. They said everything they wanted to say to one another, knowing they might never have another opportunity.

“It’s up to God.” He held her close. “There’s a time for peace, and there’s a time for war. Remember Nehemiah. He ordered the people to keep their weapons close at hand while they worked. The biggest job we’re going to face in Iraq is rebuilding the country, giving the Iraqi people the protection and resources they need to hold on to the freedom they’ve never had before. I’ll have my weapon strapped to me, Dawn. We’re trained to watch each other’s back.”

Jason wanted no public displays of affection when she saw him off. She had to be brave and tearless for his sake. He kissed her. “Write to me.” He spoke roughly, his hands gripping her head. He kissed her again. “I’ll e-mail you when I can.”

She took his hand in both of hers before he walked away. “May the Lord bless you and keep you, Jason. He goes ahead of you. He stands at your side. He dwells within you. He is your rear guard.” And though she saw tears in his hazel eyes, she smiled at him and said the rest. “This isn’t our home, Jason. Heaven is. And there, nothing can ever part us.”

Two months later, at the end of July, Dawn sent her sixtieth e-mail, knowing it might be days before Jason could read it.

God is good, Jason. He always keeps His promises. Our baby is due on Valentine’s Day. The doctor won’t know the baby’s gender for a few more months, but I told him God already promised us a little girl. She’s going to have blonde hair, and she’s going to run on the beach, collect rocks and seashells and bird feathers, and dance at the edge of the sea…

Jason e-mailed whenever he could.

Hey, Mama, I miss you so much I ache. I started a Bible study with three men in my unit. We’re rebuilding a hospital. We’re reading Nehemiah. Thought it appropriate. We do a lot of praying as we work.

… went into one of Saddam Hussein’s palaces. Marble floors, mosaics, pillars, fountains-the guy had it. Figured he was the next Nebuchadnezzar. Must have forgotten the end of the story-the king on his hands and knees eating grass like an animal. God said pride comes before a fall.

I wish I could see you getting as round as a pumpkin, big as a house, weighing in at 185 with my baby inside you…

Dawn wrote letters every day. She wanted Jason to have something at mail call, not just on his computer.

Hello, my love.

I went for my checkup this morning and heard our daughter’s heartbeat. I may not weigh 185 pounds yet, but everything is fine. I walk two miles every evening (yes, dear, before it gets dark). Since everyone works, this is the best time to meet people.

Only Maura Kerwin and LaShaye Abbot have come for tea. Neither is ready to commit to a Bible study. Maura’s husband (Mick) just got shipped over. LaShaye is pregnant for the third time in four years. They’re still paying hospital bills for the last baby. Rory told her to get an abortion. I got weepy and told them about our lost babies. LaShaye left.

I keep remembering the prayer Mom gave me when you and I weren’t seeing each other. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Thy will, not mine, be done.” I’ve been saying it a lot lately…

A suicide bomber blew himself up in the middle of a market this morning. He took innocent women and children with him. All in the name of his god! These people need to hear the gospel, and we’re forbidden to evangelize. I’ll probably get busted, but I’m not going to be silent when given an opportunity to talk about the difference between Allah and Jesus. Only Christ can make men free! The enemy of our souls wants to keep these people captive…

LaShaye didn’t come for tea. So I dropped by. She couldn’t even look at me. I told her I love her and I’m praying for her. If she ever wants to talk, my door is open. She closed hers, and I haven’t seen her since. Maura came. She and LaShaye were friends long before I came on the scene. Maura took her to the clinic.

I pray. I still take my walks.

Picture attached. Notice the nice little bulge under my new sweater!

Thanks for the photo! You look beautiful. But so thin! You look like you’re losing weight instead of gaining. Are you eating enough? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking so much…

I don’t have to look like a pumpkin or a house to be healthy, Jason. I’m eating constantly. I don’t know why I’m not gaining a lot of weight. Must be my metabolism. The doctor said walking is good for me. Don’t worry-I’m not overdoing it.

Good news! LaShaye came over. We talked for hours! She and Rory are struggling. I found a crisis pregnancy center in the area. They have a postabortion class. I said I’d take her and sit with her if that would help. I’m praying LaShaye and Rory can work things out. They have enough grief between them without discarding their marriage.

I have another checkup tomorrow. I know everything is fine, Jason. I’ve been feeling our little girl move for a couple weeks now. Only four months to go before I meet her face-to-face.

Dawn gulped down sobs as she headed home from her prenatal appointment. The doctor had put her through a battery of tests over the last two weeks and insisted that she see a specialist besides. He gave her the results this morning. “We have a problem…” She had sat stunned and silent as he talked in quiet, grim tones, hands folded on his desk. “I advise you not to wait, Dawn. I know it’s going to be difficult for you, especially with your history, but the alternative is-”

“You don’t need to say any more!” Dawn had stood abruptly, slinging her bag over her shoulder with shaking hands.

“Please sit down, Mrs. Steward. We need to discuss this. The longer you wait, the more-”

“I understand everything you’ve said, Doctor. I was a nurse.” And she wouldn’t do it! She’d rather die than do it.