Felix slammed a fist against the heavy oak door of their bedroom in frustration. He wanted to yell and rave at Kat for her stupidity. How would it look if his wife committed suicide? He was so close to a promotion. Her well-being mattered if for no other reason than that. Everyone needed to think they had it together, even if they were really falling apart at the seams.

Another niggling feeling ate away at him too. He'd married her five years ago because he had believed he loved her. Once the shininess of being newlyweds wore off, he still loved her. But over the last year, they'd been drifting apart. It had started even before the baby's still birth.

He stormed over to the bed and flopped down on it, feeling somewhat like a petulant kid. His wife was ready to kill herself just to escape her life, and he was only heaping more sorrow onto her already heavy soul. What right had he to blame her for the baby's death? He'd had a part. He hadn't been helping her. Instead, he fought with her and became demanding. Did he love his child and his wife? Yes. He didn't have to think much about loving the child, at least. His wife was becoming less and less lovable to him lately.

Be honest, Felix. You hate her because you blame her for the baby's death. It was the last straw in a relationship already dying. He had to admit too, however, that there was a good deal of bitterness directed at himself. He wasn't so proud that he was blind to his own part in the baby's still-birth. If he'd helped her more, she wouldn't have endangered the baby's health and her own well-being so often. That was a fact, however, that he was unfortunately unwilling to admit to anyone outside the comfort of his own thoughts.

This is mostly her fault, he thought stubbornly. She should've just said no instead of doing everything I asked or demanded of her. She should've said she needed help. Darn woman was so proud that she wouldn't even ask her own husband for help when she needed it. Feeling a bit better because he could shift the blame, Felix rubbed his temples and got up to yank down the covers. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

***

An afternoon nap evaded Kat as her husband slept, blissful in the belief that his wife could and should bear all the reproach for their child's death. Her soul seemed to burn in her chest as she recalled the failed attempt to kill herself. The bitter taste of the sleeping medication still lingered faintly on her tongue despite multiple attempts to wash it away. Perhaps it was just an overactive imagination and a guilty conscience keeping it there, but it bothered Kat immensely. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her head pounded.

She shook with silent sobs as she lay curled up on the guest bed. Her pillow was already soaked with tears shed amidst soundless weeping. Kat no longer wanted comfort. Instead, she longed for the sweet oblivion she imagined existed after death. It held no joy, but it also held no sorrow. You simply ceased to be, and that was preferable to her current situation. The heaven her parents had spoken of sounded lovely, but Kat rejected it because she believed it to be only a myth. If there was no God, then there was no heaven or hell. She would just stop existing, and it wouldn't matter what she'd done or suffered through in this life.

Getting up, she drifted out of the bedroom and wandered aimlessly to the front door. She opened it, not fully aware of her own actions, and seated herself on the porch steps. In her distress, she'd forgotten that the elderly couple was still moving in next door. Oblivious to their curious looks, she stared up at the leaves and swaying branches of the tree that stood beside the walkway leading to the porch. A tear slid unchecked down her cheek, glittering in the warm sunshine as it fell.

***

Mrs. Trenton glanced over at the young woman sitting on the neatly painted white porch. She thought she could see the girl's shoulders shaking with suppressed anguish and guilt. Pondering the girl's still form, she felt compelled to go speak with her. Her earlier questions about children and the young woman's husband seemed to have struck a nerve. Mrs. Trenton had the strong premonition that she needed to speak to this woman about that and her current state even if Katarina continued to push her away.

Under that presumption, she nodded. Lord, she thought. This young woman clearly needs someone to come alongside her. I don't know if she's saved or not, but if You're laying her on my heart, she clearly needs something. Give me the right words to say... And Lord? Mrs. Trenton smiled softly as the sun warmed her wrinkled face. Get ahold of her so she'll listen to what You have for her. Don't let her run off like she did last time.

Slowly, she made her way across the small stretch of brittle grass between her and Katarina. She sat down on the edge of the step next to her new neighbor with a sigh. "I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot," she said quietly.

"Did we?" Katarina asked, sniffing.

She refused to meet Mrs. Trenton's gaze. Mrs. Trenton laughed gently. "Yes, we did. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Katarina shrugged. "Why not?"

Mrs. Trenton glanced over at the young woman's impassive expression. Inside her pale green eyes, however, the pain and haunted terror lurked like a beast devouring all light in this woman's soul. Katarina was so tired that she didn't care about anything anymore, Mrs. Trenton realized. This was a woman, she saw, who had given up on life. What could make one so young so defeated? Mrs. Trenton asked herself. Lord, what should I say?

Nothing jumped out at her immediately, but Mrs. Trenton recalled reading earlier in her Bible reading about the Great Commission. She wondered if Katarina knew about God and His Word. Though they lived in America, the sad reality was that many Americans didn't know about God or His Word because of the increasing push to take God out of everything.

"Katarina, can I ask you a more personal question?"

Katarina sighed. "Sure, why not?"

"Have you ever been told about what Jesus did for you on the cross?"

Katarina looked up quickly, then rolled her eyes. "You're one of those people," she spat.

Mrs. Trenton smiled. She'd dealt with the whole gamut of people in her lifetime. It ran from embittered believers who had left the faith to hardcore evolutionists who believed God didn't exist. Everyone had some opinion of God, and when she started speaking about Jesus, specifically, it usually raised some sort of reaction. "What do you mean 'those people'?"

"A Christian!" Katarina's nose wrinkled, and she looked away, lifting her chin a bit. "My parents taught me just how empty and hypocritical you all are. No one is really genuine. You say one thing and do another. The Bible is just a fairy tale made up to justify your hypocrisies."

"Sounds like you didn't have a good experience with Christianity. You know, we're not all like that," Mrs. Trenton said, her gentle smile not wavering under Katarina's harsh attack.

"Yeah? Well, if God's real," Katarina whispered into the still summer air. "Then why did he let my baby die? Why is my husband hovering on the brink of cheating on me or leaving? Why is there no comfort to be found in this desolate world?"

Mrs. Trenton stilled, surprised by how deep this girl's bitterness ran. "I think maybe you need to talk about what's going on, dear. You've clearly been holding it for a very long time. Why don't you come over to my place and have a cup of tea? I've got a pot on the stove right now."

Katarina wrapped her arms around herself, still refusing to look at Mrs. Trenton. But the girl's body language said she was listening. Despite the crossed arms, Katarina's body leaned towards Mrs. Trenton, and she stole little glances at her unwanted companion when she thought she wasn't being observed. "I guess I could be prevailed upon to do that," she mumbled.

"Good. You know, sometimes it helps to just talk about what's going on when life is falling apart. I'm guessing you haven't had a lot of good advice or hopeful news from friends on this?"

Katarina shook her head. "They don't understand!" she blurted out. "They try, but they just can't. None of them know what it's like to lose your baby. They don't know what it's like to have the baby and find out that it was dead before it was even born. They don't know how I feel..."

Mrs. Trenton nodded. "It's hard, sweetheart. I know personally just how hard that is. My first two children were miscarriages. My third was full term but died in my arms hours after birth. Mr. Trenton and I watched our last child die at sixteen battling cancer. Our family has poor medical history, so it's a wonder that my husband and I are in the good health that we are. God's grace, that it is."

Katarina grimaced. "How did you keep going after all that? I don't think I can survive losing my first child..."

"Nonsense. Of course you can. But I made it through because of God. I'll admit... There were some days where the depression was so bad that I just wanted to die. I wanted God to take me home and end my suffering." Mrs. Trenton stopped and turned, placing her hands on Katarina's shoulders. Looking into the younger woman's limpid green eyes, she said, "Katarina, if it weren't for God's grace, I would not be standing here. I was where you are now. When I was around your age, I had my first miscarriage. My faith in God was frail, and that event almost ended it. I tried to kill myself. If it hadn't been for God's providence, I would be dead. I shot myself, but at the last minute, something distracted me, and I just missed my heart."

Katarina looked down at the gravel driveway they were standing on and scuffed a shoe along it like a young child would. "God's providence? If God existed, why did your baby die at all? If you're really His child, then why would he let so many bad things happen to you?"

Mrs. Trenton smiled and took Katarina's hand, drawing her up the steps and into the house. "Well, my dear, I can't give you the real reason. Only God can do that. But I truly believe He had a good purpose behind it. Perhaps it was to get a hold of me so that I wouldn't ruin my life. If I hadn't been shaken from my hypocritical, prideful stupor, I might've lived in my sin and mediocrity all my life. I certainly wouldn't bring honor to my Father. Those events brought me to a deeper faith and proper understanding of God's nature. An even deeper reason, possibly, is that He knew that you would need someone to show you the true Way. He knew you specifically would need someone who understood your situation to bring you to Himself."

"That's a nice rationalization," Katarina said, narrowing her eyes. "But I still don't believe in God."

"Just you wait, sweetheart," Mrs. Trenton said, laughing. "God has a way of bringing even the most hardened critics to Him. I've seen Him work miracles beyond your wildest imagination, and I guarantee He can do something miraculous in this situation too. You'll see. God is neither a myth nor a hypocritical, unjust God. He loves you, and there's a reason He's brought us together. I promise you that."