Micah's Stories: Chapter Two

Summary: When life seems at its lowest, Micah has learned to turn to his music for comfort. His five year old son and his childlike faith helps too. This takes place right after chapter eighteen of What Hindered Love.
              As Micah pulled the door of his son’s room quietly shut, the weight of the day suddenly was too much to bear. He’d put on a brave face for his son, not wanting him to sense anything was amiss. But now, he could finally retreat and try to make sense of the ache within him. He knew just where to find solace; the same place he’d found it back when he was a confused teenager. The place of solace he had lost for a time following Rachel’s death. The place of solace that had gotten him through rehab and back to a place of healing. His music.
              He went to his bedroom and pulled the case holding his acoustic out from under his bed. A Taylor he had bought after celebrating one year of being clean. He sat on the bed and rested the instrument on his knee, strumming a few times as he turned the pegs to tune it. When he finally started to play, he was surprised at the song that he began to strum: REM’s “Losing My Religion.” It had been a favorite of his as a teen – the words seemed to speak to his wandering, questioning soul. He no longer was floundering where his faith was concerned, but his heart. His heart was still lost. He had given it years ago to Chloe and didn’t he think he would ever get it back. The song talked about the distance in a lover’s eyes and the fear of saying too much. There had been distance in Chloe’s eyes, all right. The entire time at the diner today, he could feel her walls like a tangible thing, higher and more impenetrable than ever.
Micah belted out the chorus next, about a person losing their religion. This was the part of the song that the confused preacher’s kid had been able to relate to so strongly. All his life, lived under a spotlight, yet the real him deep inside slowly fading, shrinking away in a corner. Because who he really was would never be good enough.
The contradictions in the song spoke to him in this situation just as much as it ever did. He felt in some ways he had revealed too much of his heart to Chloe the last few days. Hell, the last few months. The near kiss on Christmas night replayed in his mind over and over. She seemed to want him to kiss her. Had he read things completely wrong? And now that they were in this impossible situation with Scott, the song he had sung to her as a Christmas gift seemed like an over-exposure of the depths of his soul. Surely she couldn’t misread how he felt. Then again, their past still loomed like a mountain they couldn’t scale.
He thought so many things when it came to Chloe. He thought she enjoyed his company. He thought he saw something the night they were tending to Lincoln when he was sick. She seemed ready for the next step. She said staying away from one another was the only safe way to handle Scott’s threats. But Chloe seemed to be protecting her heart again as well. Why?
              He transitioned into the second verse, which was all about confessions. He knew plenty about confessing. But where Chloe was concerned, there was still so much left to confess. Namely what he had told her that fateful day, the last day he truly saw her. Family court didn’t count. Maybe he should tell her the truth about what he had said. Micah lowered his head closer to the guitar as he continued to sing, the words coming from a place deep in his soul.
              What if he said too much? What if what he longed for was nothing but a fantasy? The last few words of the song where like razors dragging across his raw heart. He had vowed so long ago that he would never hurt her, but he had failed. He failed then. What if he failed her again?
              “Daddy?”
              Micah stopped strumming at the sound of his son’s voice, laying his palm flat against the strings to stop the sound. Luke stood in his doorway, rubbing his eyes and clutching his favorite stuffed dog to his chest.
              “I’m sorry, little man, was I too loud?”
              “Kinda.”
              Micah had intentionally left his amp and sound effects pedals alone, but he knew he had a tendency to play even acoustic a little loud. He strummed really hard, probably because playing was so emotional for him. Kate and Hannah were always complaining that he broke strings too often in the middle of worship sets. His father had even been forced to sheepishly tell him the church could no longer pay for his strings. And Beau was constantly grumbling from the sound booth that it was impossible to get the levels right when Micah played so much louder than everyone else.
              Luke shuffled across the room and climbed up on the bed. Lightning lifted her head and watched the boy, then jumped up on the bed as well. For some reason, the golden retriever thought Luke being on Micah’s bed meant she had permission as well. The dog licked Micah’s ear, but once he gave her the obligatory rub behind the ears, she curled up contentedly at the foot of the bed. Luke stared at the pattern on the quilt, tracing it with his finger. It was a gesture so like his mother, it made Micah’s chest ache.
              “Why are you singing sad?”
              “Am I?”           
    “Uh huh. You and mommy are both sad,” Luke looked up with hopeful eyes. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so sad if . . . you got married?”
              Luke phrased the last part as a tentative question, as if he thought his daddy would be angry with him for asking. Micah sighed softly and set his guitar aside. “Is that why you asked Santa for all of us to be together at Christmas?”
              Luke nodded, his face sad. “Mhm, and I’ve been praying for it, too. ‘Cuz when I told Grandma that I want my mommy and daddy married, she said I could ask God anything. Are you mad at me for praying?”
              Micah pulled Luke onto his lap and brushed a kiss to the top of his head, “Of course I’m not mad. But I have to prepare you for something, Luke.” Micah took a deep breath. He hated what he had to tell his little boy, but he wouldn’t lie to him or give him false hope. “Your mommy and I won’t be able to spend time together anymore – at least for a while.” God, he hoped it wasn’t forever!
              “But why? Is this because of the lady with the clipboard? She looked all around and asked Mommy questions.”
              Micah sighed and brushed his chin against Luke’s unruly dark hair. “Yes, Luke. I’m afraid so. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be with you any less. And Mommy and I are still friends.”
              “So I can keep praying?” Luke asked, looking up into father’s eyes.
              Micah smiled down at the little boy he loved more than his own life. “Of course, buddy. You can always keep praying. No one can stop you from doing that. And, honestly, with what your mommy and I are going through right now, we need your prayers more than ever. ”
              “Can I pray right now?”
              “Sure.” Micah expected Luke to just bow his head and say his prayer, but instead, Luke stood up on the mattress next to his father and placed a hand to Micah’s head. Micah smiled wryly. Yes, grandma was definitely a strong influence.
              “Jesus, please help Daddy not sing so sad. Help Mommy, too. Grandma says we can’t always understand why you do things, but can you please, please, please, help Daddy marry mommy? Amen.” Luke dropped his hands from Micah’s head, but then quickly put them back. “Oh, and I pray that Daddy can be Lincoln’s daddy, too. That’s it, Jesus. Amen.”
              Micah had to clear his throat and blink before he could start crying. How did Luke know to throw his little brother into his prayer? He also hated the unwavering faith he heard behind Luke’s prayer. How would it feel when Luke discovered his prayer was impossible? Almost as soon as the doubt came to his mind, that still small voice he had learned to listen to during rehab whispered a response. Is anything impossible for God? He chuckled a little to himself. Faith like a child, indeed.
              “Okay, little man, speaking of prayer, we need to get you back to bed. We have church in the morning, and when you’re staying with me, we have to be early. Praise band warm up, remember?”
              “Can I take my guitar? Just for the warm up?”
              “Sure, why not?” Kate would hate him, probably, but Micah could handle his sister-in-law.
              “Can I play one song with you just before bed?” Luke saw the stern look come over his father’s face, and instantly reverted to pleading. “Please? Just a bedtime song? One song, please?”
              Micah groaned as he looked at the clock, then sighed. “Fine. Okay. One song.” He picked his guitar back up as Luke raced to his room for his Baby Taylor. “You want me to teach you the Boat Song? The one I sang for Mommy? You said you wanted to learn it?”
              “Uh-uh. My Lighthouse.”
              “Again?”
              “Please?”
              “Fine,” Micah relented with a shake of his head. So he had sung the song what seemed like a hundred times. For his son, he would do it a hundred more.
           Micah placed Luke’s hands on the neck to demonstrate each of the chords in the song. He knew Luke would only play the first one and then revert to strumming any old sound. He was only five. Micah wanted the guitar to be fun for Luke, though, so he patiently pushed back his frustrations. Micah started with the chorus, and as he sang, he felt that his son made the perfect choice. This song was the balm his soul needed. The Lord was their lighthouse, and he would carry them through the storm.