Part 2
Dianna Lozano awoke on Thursday morning and took a shower. After dressing for work, she walked into her bedroom and knelt down beside the bed to pray, as was her habit. She didn’t know why she knelt at her bedside; she just felt comfortable there.
Dianna was thirty-eight years old, divorced eight years ago, and lived alone. She had a medium build, with short black hair and dark brown eyes. She was of Italian descent, and her nose showed just a hint of her Roman ancestry; the overall effect made her pretty. She sometimes had the temper of her Italian parents. She was straightforward and direct, with a serious demeanor.
Her husband had decided he wanted a Corvette and a blonde on each arm more than he wanted her. So he bought the car and blew around Vegas making waves. He finally wore out his welcome with the Las Vegas P.D. He had moved to L.A. to find greener pastures or faster women, whichever came first.
She got a divorce and moved out of their house on Creswell Road. She bought herself a small cottage in the little town of Henderson, Nevada, just a short drive from Vegas proper.
She had kept the house as part of the divorce settlement, and it was free and clear, but it was hard to keep good renters in it. Dianna had a soft heart, and she would believe the hard luck stories told her by the prospective tenants. They would move in and party until they tore the place apart. Then they would move, or refuse to pay their rent and have to be evicted. She would end up having to redo it when they moved out.
The house had just been one headache after another. The place was empty now because she had not had a chance to rent it out, although all the repairs had been made after the last disaster.
The heartbreak of sudden divorce had taught her much. Before the divorce, life seemed to stretch out before them. She had thought she was on the road to good fortune and retirement in a well-kept neighborhood. Now Dianna knew how uncertain life could be. She had gotten to where she just took one day at a time, and she relished every one of them.
Dianna worked at Sunrise Hospital as a registered nurse in the cardiac unit, and she liked it. She had made a lot of friends there, and many of the other nurses lived in Henderson, as well.
As Dianna began to go through her prayer list, she prayed for her son’s safety that day. He was an Air Force pilot who loved his job. He was stationed at Nellis AFB, and lived on Mt. Solo Road with his wife and one child. His job frightened her, but she knew he was a good pilot, and he was happy in what he did.
He had gotten special permission to take her up in the co-pilot’s seat of an F-4 Phantom once. She had puked all over herself as her son pulled Gs over the Nevada sky, laughing hysterically. She wanted to be mad at him for the joke but couldn’t.
As Dianna went through her remembrance list, she prayed for a nurse’s aid, who was also divorced, and who had cancer and could no longer work. She prayed for her friends and family in L.A. Dianna’s prayer list had gotten longer and longer.
She turned and stretched her legs out after a while. They always started cramping when she kneeled for a long time. But she loved the time she spent with the Lord, and she refused to shorten her prayer time. Before the divorce, she had hardly ever prayed. But now she didn’t feel right if she didn’t spend time there in her bedroom alone, praying earnestly for the needs of those she knew, loved, and cared for.
As she finished she began to praise the Lord for his goodness and kindness. Suddenly she heard that still small voice penetrate her being. “Call Jena.” It wasn’t so much a voice as an impression that imposed itself on her mind, but she knew it was from the Holy Spirit.
Dianna thought of her old classmate, whom she had not talked to in fifteen years or so. They had been best friends in school. They used to keep in touch, but they had just grown apart over the years. The last she had heard of Jena, she had married and moved north to Oregon or Washington or somewhere up there, but she wasn’t sure where.
“I wonder how I would get hold of her,” Dianna thought. She sat there pondering for a few minutes, and then remembered the Internet. She jumped up, rushed excitedly into her tiny office, and turned on her computer. The screen lit up and Dianna went to AnyWho.com. She sat for a moment, trying to remember the last name of the man Jena had married. Finally, she remembered -- it was Blankenship. She typed that in the box for last names, and Oregon for the town. In a second, up popped a long list of names. She scanned the list, and finally found “Blankenship, Joe and Jena, Deer Island, Oregon.”
She knew that had to be it, so she jotted down the number on a piece of paper. “Thank you Lord,” she breathed, and dialed the number. The phone rang three times, and a tired voice answered.
“Hello, is this Jena Blankenship?” Dianna said into the phone.
“Yes it is,” came the answer.
“Jena, this is Dianna Lozano, in Las Vegas.”
“Oh, Dianna! It has been so long! How are you?”
“Ok. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” However, Dianna heard the hesitation in Jena’s voice.
“Jena, I want to get right to the point of why I called you. As I prayed this morning, the Holy Spirit prompted me to call you.”
Dianna heard some broken words on the other end. She knew that Jena was crying, and she waited. Finally, Jena came back on the phone with a squeaky and broken voice.
“I’m still here. Sorry,” Jena said.
She and Jena had always shared openly with each other since they were inseparable friends in school, and had always stuck together. As Dianna sat silently, waiting for Jena to continue, she reached up and brushed the tears out of her own eyes. Finally, Jena continued, explaining to Dianna all that had happened in the last month. As Jena spoke, Dianna began crying in earnest, because she knew the Holy Spirit had truly directed her this morning. She also felt the burden of her friend.
After they both got control of their tears and emotions, they talked a long while about the old days, and Dianna told her about the divorce.
Then, Dianna asked Jena for the phone number at Joe’s brother’s home, where Joe was headed. Jena gave it to her, and, with a promise from each to stay in touch, they hung up.
She sat a long while and thought about what Jena had said. She suddenly wondered about the time, and looked at her watch. “Oh my!” she said, and rushed out the door. She drove hurriedly to work, already fifteen minutes late. She had a busy day at Sunrise Hospital, which was not unusual, so she didn’t have much time to think about anything else. When the day was over, she walked tiredly to her car and went home.