The Package Express counter wasn't very busy the first time I saw her. I had gone in to make a shipment, and she was standing at the counter. She apparently didn't notice me when I stepped in, and she wasn't there very long. I had never seen her before, and somehow, I knew the counter man hadn't either. He was trying not to stare, I could tell, but then, I was too. I don't ordinarily go goggle-eyed over just any attractive woman. I found out early in life that there are just too many pretty packages out there with tigers and time bombs inside. It cost me an awful lot to learn that. But for some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off this young woman. From my vantage point, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her profile was elegant, her skin was a perfect olive color, and the loose clothes she wore just couldn't conceal the sculptured beauty of her figure. Her voice was clear but she spoke with peculiar lisp. She had placed the heavy package she was sending on the counter. As I watched her, I noticed that there was no wedding ring on that delicate olive hand, and I knew I had to find out more about her. She turned and made her way out the door. I watched her thick brown hair bounce as she walked and... well... she really had a beautiful walk.
When I moved up in front of the clerk to make my shipment, I spotted her paperwork lying where the clerk had just laid it. I saw her name and I saw her address; Nancy Everhart, 108 Park Ridge Circle, Apartment 13A. I quickly committed it to memory.
As the clerk weighed my package and prepared it for shipment, I looked out the glass doors toward the parking lot. I figured I'd see the mystery girl driving a late-model Mercedes, or maybe a Jaguar but I was surprised to see her pulling out onto the boulevard in a blue '78 Buick with a green fender on the left front.
One fact that hasn't escaped my notice is that incredibly attractive young women don't generally drive ragged old cars like that. There are exceptions, to be sure, but what interested me was that her car was a pretty good match for my own car of choice, a rusty '68 Fairlane. I also saw her license plate and memorized the number.
I learned a long time ago to choose my love interests very carefully. A guy who knows his way around the internet can discover all sorts of stuff about somebody if he knows where and how to look. When I got back to my apartment I fired up my laptop to see what I could find out about her.
Miss Everhart was born on September 4th, 1973. She had been driving the same old Buick ever since her parents died. According to the Department of Motor Vehicles, the title was transferred into her name six years ago. Her parents, James and Florence Everhart, were both deceased. Their death certificates indicated that they both died the same day, and in the local newspaper archives I found a story about a tragic house fire four years earlier from which Nancy had narrowly escaped.
Her license was on file at the state Driver's License division of the DMV, but the photo on the database was not a recent one. The file photo was about five years old, but from what I could see, she was a knockout. Five feet seven inches tall, 125 pounds, brown eyes, dark brown hair... I found myself wondering why this doll was still single, unless it was by choice.
Nancy had no traffic violations, outstanding or otherwise, except for one citation thirty-two months previously for an expired license plate.
According to the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network database, Miss Everhart was earning a yearly salary of $27,600 yearly doing internet computer marketing and telephone solicitation work for several different companies. Until the fire that killed her parents, she had been a receptionist at a doctor's office. Now, from what I could tell, she did all her work from her apartment. Nancy had paid $10,472 into Social Security since she entered the employment pool, and her tax return the previous year had been $654. As far as I could determine, Nancy had never been married and had no children. She had three gasoline credit cards and a checking account debit card from Flintport Bank and Trust. Her bank balance hadn't been above a thousand dollars since her parents died, but her credit rating was excellent.
My interest in Nancy continued to deepen. So how was I to get acquainted with her? I could quote most of her vital statistics better than she could. There was very little I didn't know about her, but there was an awful lot more I wanted to find out. Certainly I couldn't walk up, knock on her apartment door, and say,
"Hi, I'm Rob Reynolds, your friendly local computer hacker. Did you know you're worth a lot of money?" Not hardly! I decided to locate her apartment and watch her for a week or so. I took my laptop and my cell phone so I could keep track of the Dow while I was watching her place. My 'stakeout' lasted long enough to find out that she probably didn't have a boyfriend. If she did, he must have been out of town for a while. She left her apartment several times, but I could never get a good look at her. Furthermore, she drove that old Buick like Mario Andretti and I couldn't manage to keep up with her. It seemed to me as if I should have been able to follow the cloud of blue smoke that boiled out of her tailpipe when she took off, but she always lost me somehow. I kept getting cut off in traffic or held up by red lights, and since my old Fairlane needed front-end work I hadn't taken the time for, it wasn't safe for me to play Steve McQueen in traffic situations like that.
My big break came on Sunday, when she left her apartment wearing a dress for the first time. It was a nice blue outfit with white flowers and a modest hemline that came to just below her knees. A narrow white belt was drawn tightly around her tiny waist and she was wearing high heels that matched the belt. I still didn't get as good a look at her as I wanted to, but this time I managed to stay in the smoke trail her old Buick was leaving long enough to follow her to Edgewater Bible Fellowship, a big church out on the edge of town. It was 10:30 a.m. when we pulled into the parking lot, but she was out of her car and inside the building before I could even find a parking place. I surveyed my clothes. They weren't too badly wrinkled, and I had a decent looking tie lying in the back seat. I killed a minute or two smoothing the wrinkles, tucking in my shirt tail, putting on my tie, and combing my rumpled hair. Then I got out of my car and worked my way past the well-dressed people milling around on the steps and through the big front doors of the church. The vestibule was paneled with oak and there were photos of several distinguished-looking men on the walls. It reminded me of the doctor's building over at Park General with the photos of surgeons lining the hall. Through another set of doors, I entered the cavernous sanctuary.
Surely I could spot Nancy in the congregation, especially if I took a seat in the lower part of the balcony. A tall usher in an expensive-looking pinstripe suit smiled, welcomed me with a firm handshake, and gave me a church bulletin.
"Welcome to Edgewater, young man. I'm Hilliard Barnes."
One thing that struck me was how everybody here seemed to be going out of their way to be friendly to me. I had already been greeted by at least two dozen strangers. Many of them wanted to know my name and where I was from. I wasn't accustomed to treatment like this. It made me wonder what they were up to. But there was a fresh openness about this place that I hadn't experienced anywhere else, and one thing I noticed as I watched the people was that they seemed to really care about each other. In my world, very few people cared about anybody but themselves, and I supposed at the time I was a product of it. I was always looking out for "Number One." And I wondered if these people acted this "churchy" during the week. Most of the churchgoers I had known in the business world were hypocrites, and so I had stayed away from churches until today. The only reason I was here this morning was to see if I could make contact with Nancy Everhart. So far, I hadn't spotted her, but I felt certain she was out there somewhere.
The choir loft was filling with members, all wearing deep red choir robes. In a padded chair to the left of the pulpit and facing the congregation, I could see the preacher of the church, a handsome, athletic-looking man who appeared to be in his sixties. In a matching padded chair to the right sat the energetic young choir director, who now came to his feet, stepped up to the pulpit, and faced the choir. He raised both arms toward the rafters. The hundred or so choir members responded by rising to their feet in unison as the thundering pipe organ filled the sanctuary with rich, powerful music. As the choir sang, "All Creatures of Our God and King", I opened my bulletin and glanced at the first few lines. From the song they were singing, this must have been the "Call to Worship."
The church members had stopped talking and settled into their respective pews by the time the short hymn was finished. I scanned the crowd and thought I spotted Nancy Everhart sitting on the front row in her blue dress.
The preacher stepped up to the pulpit and called on the congregation to stand. Five thousand people came to rustling to their feet, and as I watched carefully, I became even more certain the woman on the front pew was Nancy Everhart.
Suddenly I realized that the people around me had their heads bowed and that the preacher was praying now. Not caring to be noticed, I bowed my head, but kept one eye open, watching the front pew. I couldn't seem to get enough of a look at her to be sure, but I was becoming more certain that it was her. As we all reached for hymn books and stood up to sing the first congregational hymn, I realized that in spite of all my research, I really didn't know much about her at all. Maybe I could introduce myself after the service and take her out to lunch or something. Lost in thought, I had missed the hymn number, so I glanced at the bulletin to find out what it was. Then I noticed that Nancy Everhart was listed as a speaker on the program in the bulletin. Mildly startled, I fumbled around and dropped my hymnal. After the pretty lady in front of me retrieved it for me with a sweet smile (which I returned), I found the page and mouthed the words while eagerly anticipating the first close-up look I'd get at Nancy. My problem at that point was how to approach her.
Then we sang what the choir director called a "fellowship chorus." It was just a short verse, and we were all told to greet those around us for a few moments while the organ continued the melody. When I heard those words, I had only one thing on my mind. This "fellowship" time would provide an excellent opportunity for me to meet Nancy Everhart face to face. I quickly left the balcony and headed down to the main part of the sanctuary, giving only a cursory handshake to those who tried to greet me, and managed to thread my way through the crowded aisles to the front row where thought I had seen Nancy previously. Surely she must be nearby... I shook hands and searched the crowd for her with my eyes, but she was nowhere to be seen, and now the fellowship time had passed. The members were returning to their pews and taking up the strains of the fellowship chorus once more.
I stood on the front row while the choir director and the congregation were finishing the final lines of the song. Surely Nancy would return to the pew and take her seat in a moment, but now the singing had stopped and the preacher arose to speak. In that moment, I realized Nancy had moved to the podium and taken a seat next to the preacher, but I couldn't see any part of her except her skirt and one of her white patent-leather shoes. That was about to change, though, because the preacher was introducing her to the congregation:
"Many of you know Miss Nancy Everhart," he began, "she has been an active member of our church for two years now. Today, for the first time, we'll hear Nancy give her personal testimony."
The preacher turned to face Nancy and she stood up.
"Come now and share with us," he said.
Nancy stepped up to the pulpit as the preacher moved back to his seat. I couldn't take my eyes off her face. The left side of her face was all that I had seen in the PacEx office, and it was every bit as beautiful as I remembered, but the right side of her face and neck were horribly scarred and discolored. From the smoky appearance of her right eye, she appeared to be blind on that side.
Chapter Two
"During my teenage years," Nancy began, "I enjoyed a lot of popularity and attention at school." I instantly recognized the melodious voice and the peculiar lisp I had heard at the PacEx counter. "As a matter of fact, I was a little too popular, even though my self-esteem wasn't what it should have been. I thought I had to do what some of the other girls did and give the boys what they wanted to be accepted. Because of my poor self-esteem and lack of moral fiber, I got pregnant three times. Once I had an abortion. The second time I miscarried. The third time I gave the baby up for adoption. For years I was overcome with crushing feelings of pain, guilt, and worthlessness. Having the love of a man and the joy of children was something I always wanted, but no matter what I did, I just couldn't seem to get it right."
As she spoke, I wondered why I hadn't uncovered any of this in my internet research. Some data generally falls between the cracks. I still couldn't believe how the right side of her face was such an awful contrast to the left side.
"For most of my life, the love of my parents was the only thing that kept me going. I went through several bad relationships; I was starving for love, but I could never seem choose the right suitors, and I got used by a lot of men who had no respect for me at all. Whenever I came crashing down after each rejection, when I was the most lonely and depressed, I could always count on my mom and dad to love me back to health. Then came the fire that claimed their lives. I was devastated. I wished I had died along with them, and I knew I wouldn't be able to survive being used and abused by another man.
"I had to make a living, and so I answered some newspaper ads, and started doing telephone and computer work at home. I didn't venture outside my apartment unless I had to, and I generally avoided people. I stopped mingling with the public, except on the telephone. Then one day I received a visit from pastor Jack and his wife Marie. What was so interesting to me was that they didn't come to invite me to church. I'd had visits like that before. They came to tell me about Jesus. For the first time, since my parents died, I saw true unselfish love in the eyes of other people.
When I told them about my pregnancies and how they ended, I figured they would pass judgment on me and I'd have a reason to throw him out of my apartment. But they just showed me Romans 3:23 where it says all of us have sinned and come short of God's glory. Then they pointed out the place where Jesus forgave the woman the self-righteous Pharisees had dragged to the temple, putting them all to shame in the process. Finally, Jack explained how Jesus died for each of us, and he explained that if I confessed with my mouth that Jesus is Lord and believed in my heart that God raised Him from the dead, I would become a part of God's family, with an eternal inheritance that nobody can take away.
"Their visit marked the beginning of my healing, and it has continued ever since. One thing I wanted to say to you all is how deeply I appreciate the love and acceptance I've received here at Edgewater. Over the past two years, I've learned what Christianity is all about. It was here that I found friends who would love me in spite of the way I look and the mistakes I've made. It was here where Jesus took away my heart of stone and replaced it with a heart of flesh. Like Jesus forgave the harlot who washed Jesus' feet with her tears in the house of Simon the Pharisee, He forgave me of all my awful sins and cleansed me of all my unrighteousness. When I fully realized just how much He loves me in spite of all I've done, I registered a public commitment to Jesus at the foot of this altar and I've been walking with Him ever since."
I was blown away, still stunned at Nancy's appearance. No wonder this girl was still single. No wonder the PacEx clerk was staring at her. No wonder she stayed indoors so much. I would too if I looked the way she did! While she didn't mention how she got those awful scars, I figured she must have been burned in the house fire that took her parents. She was still speaking...
"There is nothing on this earth I enjoy more than the love of my Savior. He walks with me when I'm depressed and lonely like nobody else can or will do. He loves me unconditionally, in spite of my promiscuous youth, my abortion, my anger at Him after I lost my parents. In my heart, even now, when I feel the most lonely and defeated, the Spirit of God comforts me, and I find the strength in His Word to go on living.
"Men don't chase me any more. They haven't for a long time. But I count my blessings every day. Because Jesus lives, I have hope for the future, and I can face each new day without feeling sorry for myself. I earn enough money to pay my bills and even give some away. About a year ago, I got an 800 number and published it in the yellow pages. It's a crisis pregnancy counseling helpline. It rings my home phone and on some days it rings a quite a lot.. I can speak on the telephone with women who are struggling with problem pregnancies. I can tell them from experience how devastating it can be to live a promiscuous lifestyle, and what a dead end it is to live our lives without Jesus Christ. I do my best to convince them that the abortionists are lying about the nature of the life inside them and that the baby they're carrying deserves to live. As far as I've been able to tell (at least based on follow ups), I've managed to help save at least thirty-five babies from the abortionists so far, and I have presented the gospel of Jesus Christ to every woman who calls. And while they don't all come to faith in Christ right there, some have. To even save one baby or lead one frightened teenager to Christ makes all I've been through worthwhile."
While she kept speaking, I realized I was falling in love with her right here where I sat. The more I heard her say, the more I wanted to get to know her. She was a beautiful flower that had been crushed and then restored, but the scars of her previous life had forever changed her. I decided right then that I would at least try to plant and cultivate a friendship with her; given time, maybe I could get used to the awful scars and we could build a deeper relationship. I'd just like to get to know her. And so I did.
After the worship service I met her at her car. She was a little wary at first...
"Hello, Miss Everhart," I said as she approached, "my name is Rob Reynolds and I wanted to tell you how deeply I was affected by your testimony."
"Thank you," she said as we shook hands. Her grip was surprisingly strong. I felt a curious warmth as she smiled at me with her good eye. I figured I'd jump at this opportunity while I had her attention.
"Can I buy you some lunch?"
"Ahhh... no thanks, I don't go to restaurants much."
"Maybe we could get an order to go and have a picnic on my favorite park bench." She was more serious now, looking deep into my soul now, trying to see inside me.
"Well..." she began
"Please?" She smiled again, and nodded slowly.
"My car or yours?" I led her to my old Ford, and when she saw it she almost changed her mind.
"Is this your car?"
"Yep," I told her, "I plan to get the old gal painted one day. She don't look like much, but I've held on to her ever since I was sixteen. This was my first car and I just can't seem to let her go."
It was difficult to talk to Nancy at first without staring at the bad side of her face and that smoky-looking blind eye.
She had a wonderful sense of humor. She was really a lot of fun, and in a very short time I stopped noticing those awful scars. I kidded her about her wild driving and her big old Buick. She laughed at my silly jokes and shared some of her hopes and fears with me. One thing we had in common was that we had both lost our parents at about the same time. We talked about the pain I had gone through when my folks died in a plane crash, and how slow I had been to heal afterwards. When I would drop her off at her apartment after we went out, I would give her a tight hug and a gentle kiss on the side of her face that had no scars. She never let me touch the other side, even with my hand, and she wouldn't discuss her scars or even tell me how she got them. That was one minefield I learned to stay out of. I realized before we had known each other very long that this was the most precious relationship I had ever experienced and I didn't want to mess it up. I had been taken advantage of a few times like Nancy had, dating girls who were after me for the wrong reasons. This time, I knew the love that was growing between us was genuine.
We went to church every Sunday morning, every Sunday night, and every Wednesday. I learned a lot about the Bible. I learned how completely Jesus forgives us. I learned why we all need a savior and that Jesus is actually one in the same with the Creator/God who made all things and is never far from any of us. The most wonderful day of my life was when I went forward one Sunday evening with Nancy at my side and made a public profession of faith in Jesus Christ. I'll never forget how it felt to stand there facing those thousands of people with the pastor standing on my right and Nancy standing on my left. We hugged folks and shook hands for over an hour after the service was over.
Nancy's understanding of the Scriptures was very deep and she was able to answer some of my toughest questions more completely than I ever imagined.
She explained to me that we all belong to God and what He chooses to do in our lives is His business. She explained His perfect love for us, and spoke with great anticipation about the glories of God's coming kingdom, with Jesus Christ ruling the world, the heavens, even the universe with a rod of iron.
Nancy laughed and laughed when I asked her to marry me. She told me she thought I needed more time to think about it. I told her my mind was made up, and had been for a while.
The engagement was set, the wedding day was planned, and the church was filled to capacity. We had borrowed money to pay for the wedding.
Nancy came down the aisle on the arm of Hilliard Barnes wearing a soft blue wedding dress. In her integrity she had insisted on another color besides white because of her past moral failures. Her veil was very thick; I wondered that she could even see through it. I certainly couldn't see her face, even when she was standing right in front of me. The bridesmaids and their escorts filed in and took their places. When Hilliard gave her to me, we turned to face a smiling Pastor Jack.
We made our wedding vows, the rings were exchanged, and the pastor told me I could kiss the bride. My heart was thumping so hard and so loud I was sure everybody in the crowd could hear it. Then I raised Nancy's veil to kiss her, took one look at her face, and passed out. I vaguely remember being caught by Hilliard as I fell…
Chapter Three
I woke up lying on the carpet, surrounded by richly attired wedding guests. For a moment I didn't know where I was until I realized my head was cradled in Nancy's arms and I was looking into her eyes. Both of them. The left side of her face was as gorgeous as it had ever been. But the awful scars and the blind eye were gone, and the right side of her face was an exact match for the left side. Her full red lips moved to mine, and I kissed my new wife. I thought my heart was going to explode with the sheer ecstasy of it all. Then Nancy and I came to our feet and made our way to the same pulpit where I had first seen her 'scars.'
"Would everybody take your seats please?" Nancy addressed the guests, "I have some explaining to do." The guests rustled back to their seats and sat down. I followed Nancy up the steps and stood beside her while she spoke. I was still light-headed. I knew women were their prettiest in wedding attire, but, to put it mildly, this exceeded my expectations a bit. Nancy took a breath, her sparkling eyes surveying the crowd for a moment.
"Ever since I was a teenager, I've struggled in my relationships. I wasn't an attractive child. I was clumsy and strange-looking, and until I was in the ninth grade, most of the other kids laughed at me. I had a nerve problem because of a tumor in my neck and I couldn't talk right. My tongue wouldn't work the way I wanted it to, and sometimes it would hang out of one side of my mouth.
The sanctuary was so quiet it seemed like nobody was even breathing. Nancy continued.
"In those days I didn't have a lot of friends. But the few friends I did have were true friends who loved me in spite of the way I looked. Junior high school was probably the worst time of my life. Mama and Daddy didn't have a lot of money, but they spent everything they had until they found a gifted neurosurgeon who managed to... Well, without going into too much detail, let me say that it only took two operations to get me completely straightened out.
"It wasn't long before I had more attention than I ever thought possible. I had guys hanging around all the time. I could just about have my pick of any letter-sweater on the football team, but since I had never been popular before, I didn't handle it well. I made some awful mistakes. Proverbs 11:22 tells us that an attractive woman without discretion is like a ring of gold in a hog's nose. That's the way I began to see myself, but I didn't know what to do about it.
"After my parents died and I managed to escape the house fire that took them, I was reflecting on the way things had gone for me, primarily the genuine quality of the few friendships I'd enjoyed when I looked like a 'freak.' I studied costume makeup techniques and chose an appearance that would drive almost any man away. I got really good at applying my 'freak' makeup so nobody would know it wasn't real. A special contact lens for my right eye was the perfect finishing touch.
"When Rob asked me to marry him, I laughed, not because I thought his proposal was funny, but because I realized for the first time that a man genuinely loved me.
"As far as I know, nobody here knew my secret. I prepared for the wedding in a room all by myself. It's pretty unusual to prepare for a wedding by taking off the makeup you put on earlier that morning! I knew that when Robert raised my veil he would be shocked. What I didn't know was that he would pass out." A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
"Jesus looks on our hearts, not our faces. When Robert asked me to marry him, I knew he had learned to look at my heart like Jesus does. And I knew then that what my face looked like made no difference to him. Right now, my new husband and I have a wedding cake to cut back there in the fellowship hall, followed by our honeymoon"
The congregation was on their feet for an ovation that lasted a full minute.
Then I stepped up beside Nancy to the microphone.
"Let me make an understatement and say that I have never been more surprised than I was when I raised Nancy's veil. But I have a bit of a surprise for everybody as well. Proverbs 13:7 says:
'There is who makes himself appear rich, yet has nothing: there is another that makes himself appear poor, yet has great riches.'
During the time Nancy and I were driving around the countryside building the incredible friendship we now have, I was watching her carefully. She seemed very interested in a big old farmhouse we frequently drove by out near Brandtfield. I found out one day that her grandparents had lived there when she was very small, and that it was a house she had always dreamed of owning someday. She was very upset when she saw that it was condemned and scheduled to be torn down, and the farm was to be subdivided and sold. Well now I want to surprise her by letting her know that I bought the house and the farm. It's in a state of disrepair, but I wasn't foolish enough to remodel it without her input, so it'll be awhile before we can move in. I always wondered what it would be like to live on a farm. Nancy said nobody here new her secret. Well, Hilliard Barnes knew my secret. We've become close friends over the past year. Most of you know that Hilliard went broke and had to sell his farm a few years back. I've paid off his debts and he'll be farming for both of us now, only he'll never have to borrow another dime if I can help it.
"Also, I'd like to thank pastor Jack for preaching the whole word of God. And since I knew my little masquerade would be over with this morning, (I knew nothing about Nancy's surprise unveiling), I prepared two checks to present to Edgewater after the wedding. The first one is a tithe check, and the second one is an offering check. Jack indicated that we are to start wherever we are when we become a part of God's family. Well, to make up for my lack of faithfulness to the principles of stewardship Jack has put forth since I've been a member of the body of Christ. I'm presenting Edgewater with a tithe check for $125,000. That will cover ten percent of what my stocks have earned since I came to Jesus. Also, I'm giving an offering check over and above that, but that amount is between me and God. And by the way, I didn't make my fortune by winning the lottery, and I didn't inherit it. Before I even knew there was a God, He gave me wisdom and discretion in the area of earning and managing money. Now I'm counting on God to show me how I can invest my fortune in His kingdom.
"As Nancy said a minute ago, she and I have a cake to cut and some punch to drink in the fellowship hall. I think our limousine has arrived, and my Gulfstream jet is waiting at the airport to take Nancy and me anywhere she wants to go for as long as she wants us to stay. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all."
