037:


******037:

We sat in the celestial room in the Los Angeles temple at 7:30 in the morning. The couch we sat on was in a corner, the sun was coming in a stained glass window, the chandelier was sparkling, the couch was beautifully muted mauve and cornflower, highlighted with green, the carpet was carved with curly-cues. A table sat in front of us with carved mahogany legs. Even the wainscoting was carved and beautiful.

Rafe was doubled over---- bent nearly in two as he prayed. I had a hand on his back, rubbing absently, staring around at the really, really peaceful surroundings. Ben was in another corner, alone, sitting--- staring up. Otherwise, we were alone.

I felt alone. The kind of alone among others that was a good alone--- never the bad kind of alone with others who didn't even know you were there. I felt like I was known, and others knew me, but I was alone--- left alone to feel the peace. And I did feel peace.

I felt incredible peace--- amplified peace--- beyond description peace. I felt heavenly peace--- the kind in the song.... Sleep in heavenly peace---

But I wasn't asleep--- I was on fire inside. Every nerve was aware of the peace. Every sinew was electrified with the peace--- singing to the peace, reveling in it--- lost in it.

My heart soared--- and my mind cried with rejuvenation and assurance.

Rafe sat back against the cushion and crossed his leg. He crossed his arms and then uncrossed them, and put one hand on my knee. He leaned forward just a little to look into my eyes.

"The older boy is going to be a problem." Rafe said softly.

I sighed. "He needs the same kind of attention and reassurance as Felicity."

"No, no. It's much worse." He said. "You will not be able to handle him alone. You will not be able to leave him alone for even a few seconds at a time, and anyone we get to watch the kids will have to be trained to deal with their special needs."

"Why can't we leave him alone?"

"He has been terribly abused, Aubrey."

"And you think he will abuse others? You think he might abuse Felicity?" My heart clenched painfully. Nothing could hurt my beautiful daughter. I couldn't be this boy's mom, and have him hurt Felicity--- she had been through so much!

And he hasn't? I heard my inner voice saying. You think losing parents is the worst that can happen to you? How about having your mother lock you in a room with a screaming, pooping, hungry three-year-old--- to starve to death. How about that?

I'm not qualified. I immediately dismissed my former ambivalence. I had to have misread it. The peace I felt had to have come from some other source, Heavenly Father would not give me something I couldn't handle and I definitely could not handle an abused and abusing six-year-old.

"He'll never get the chance." Rafe said carefully. He blew out his breath at an angle. "My God. You really think we can do this?" It was an outward prayer---- the kind of prayer that Sarah, Abraham's wife must have given when told she was expecting Isaac at age 90----

I'd always thought that reaction was a bit bogus.

Honestly---- if she was having sex at ninety.....!

Nevertheless---- Even Rafe was saying he wasn't sure we could do this.

And yet----

And yet....!

We'd both gotten identical confirmation from the spirit. Strong impressions that we were these boys' parents. We had what it would take.

"He can do a lot of damage." Rafe said clearly. He was leaning forward on his elbows again, holding his forehead with his palms covering his eyes. I rubbed his back again. "He can and will try and come between us."

I drew in my breath and did not let it out.

"We will---- Aubrey--- will come to the temple every Tuesday morning at five. Rain or shine. We will be here."

I nodded.

There's a lot of protection not just in going to the temple, but in committing to come to the temple. A lot of protection from the fiery darts of the adversary.

"We can't do this without coming here. We need this strength. Even if this is our only date for the week--- although we'll do our best not to let that happen. I can see that we both need time alone--- together." He was referring to my not infrequent melt-downs and his insecurity.

I can't believe he is sure about this. We don't even know their names. We don't know anything else about them except that they've been abused, and they need incredible special care. We don't know how long they lived with their abusive mother--- we don't know what kind of abuse they have suffered.

It's hard enough being adopted--- there is loss all around.

Their loss--- identity loss, familial loss, loss of self--- of home--- of familiarity.

Our loss--- loss of freedom, loss of self and identity--- it goes both ways. We will all have to redefine ourselves.

How can he possibly heal from six years of pain and loss? Six years of abuse, fear, doubt, deception, misery, anger, uncertainty, despair? Six years-----

I swallowed my own fear.

I--- have—been—loved. I have never known loss like this child has. But I have been loved. And I can share love. I can give him love--- all my love.

"You're too quiet." Rafe said, rubbing my knee.

"Thinking."

"About all the negative stuff?"

"No, I was just reminding myself that I have been loved. Loved incredibly--- all my life. I've never not known love. And I can and will share love."

"I feel stretched too thin." Rafe smiled grimly. "My dad is living with us--- possibly going through a divorce. Felicity has loss and trauma--- these kids have trauma--- Lance and Darnel are struggling--- Ben wants Shellie, but she's a mouse. Jeff and Ronda are struggling---- the band is---- not doing as well as I'd like. My team isn't doing as well as I'd like. I just feel--- stretched too thin. Where is Kell now, when we need him to jump in and take the stress?"

I laughed.

"Well." He said and stood, shaking down his pants. "Time to get back. Lissie is waking up."

"I'm sure she's already up."

"You told Pop to go upstairs? Be in our room?"

"In the chair, yes."

"Anita will be there at 9:15?"

"Yes."

"You put Pop's name on the temple prayer roll?"

"I will."

He nodded. "Aubrey?" I loved when he said my name like that, like the first time he'd ever said it, like I had his full attention, and he was fixed on me, the most important person in his life. "The studio might not be up and making an income for us. I might need to go on tour next season. Tours promote albums, albums generate income."

"I won't be able to help out with the income if we....." I stopped, his eyes were burning into mine. I think I said the wrong thing.

"I wasn't asking you to go to work."

I hung my head. Part of me would still jump at that chance, I think. It's why I leaped at the thought that he was asking for my help. He hadn't been. He was thinking out loud, the way you might do sometimes when things weigh on your mind.

"I was just talking about the transition from pop singer to producer." He patted my leg. "If you still want to be something--- do something other than mother--- I'm up for it. I even thought about building you a clinic in the front of the studio, and you can see patients."

"That would be amazing, and it would tie us down to baby delivery times. It would set us up to be apart. I don't think I could be a good mom if I'm that distracted." That was brutally honest---- my eyes welled up.

He pulled me in for his embrace, cradled me next to his heart, let me listen--- to his breathing. He kissed my forehead, wiped my tears.

"Baby, you can do it if it's what you need. I will support you."

"I know. But it isn't what I need."

He nodded, still stroking my hair under my veil. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." I whispered. "I'm here for you, Rafe. You keep saying you're here for me and it gives me such strength. But I'm here for you too."

His hand trailed down my back, and he laced his fingers with mine. His eyes were intensely dark blue, sparkling in the chandelier sparkles. His smile had that cheeky little self-assured glint. His dimples darted in and out as he struggled not to howl---- I knew he wanted to, I could see it in his face. Everything about him wanted to howl, right now--- in the temple.

So--- not happening.

******

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