wonderful girl who you would really like. We met on Easter at church."
There followed dead silence on the other end of the phone.
"Betty, are you all right?" Tom asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," came Betty's reply. Tom could tell from her voice that she was crying. "Tom, I can't talk at work. Can you call me tonight?"
Not wanting to hurt Betty any more, Tom agreed to call her that evening at home.
Betty immediately called Julie Grant, with whom she talked often. "It's all over," Betty sobbed, "Tom got married. Now he will never come home!"
"Remember," Julie responded, "that God's delays are not God's denials. That piece of paper they received means nothing to your stand for a restored marriage. God recognizes you as Tom's covenant wife. Don't you dare let this trick of satan throw your stand for a loop!"
"I'm trying not to," Betty replied, "but it hurts so much to know that someone else is calling my husband her husband."
Remember what I taught you about the enemy's big guns?" Julie asked.
"Yes," Betty sobbed, "he seems to bring out the big guns when the victory is almost here. But I asked Tom to call me tonight. What am I going to say?"
"The same things that you would have said to him before you knew. Just continue to show him the love of the Lord, that unconditional love, you know, love without conditions. Love Tom on the phone tonight the same way that the Lord loves us, even when we don't deserve it," Julie instructed.
"Don't you realize," she continued, "What a grand opportunity the Lord is giving you through this non-covenant marriage to communicate with your husband? We will be praying for you guys tonight."
"Thanks. Even through all this stuff about Tom getting married, I am beginning to see the hand of God. Julie, this could be it!"
"It could be it, or could just be the Lord getting you prepared for it. Either way, let's praise Him for everything that He is doing. By the way, did I tell you that my Tom and I are praying about going to a pastor's conference in Fort Lauderdale in two weeks? Another pastor and his wife had plane tickets and are now unable to go."
"Great! Your Tom can go see my Tom and straighten him out."
"Whoa," Julie fired back. "Haven't I taught you anything? Now who would be at work if we forced open that door, God or us? Besides, I doubt that my husband will visit many yacht dealers in Fort Lauderdale, even if we do go. I just thought that it would be grand to be in the same town as your prodigal and for us to be praying for him."
"You're right, Julie. Hey, thanks for being my friend and keeping me on track."
All that afternoon, Tom thought about the call that he had promised to make to Betty that evening. There really was no reason for him to call back, but it had been good to hear her voice, and after all, he had said that he would call.
That evening he called Mort, the band leader, and told him that he might be a few minutes late. Armed with an ample supply of quarters, Tom sought out a private phone booth. Obviously, this was one of those calls that could not be made from home with Sandy around.
After passing several possible locations, Tom pulled off State Road 84 into a quiet shopping center behind Wendy's restaurant. Leaning against his car, he dialed his former home number and began to deposit quarters.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's me."
"Two calls from my absent husband in one day. I am a very fortunate woman."
"I wish you wouldn't call me your husband. Like I told you, now I'm somebody else's husband."
"All right, but God and I will always consider you to be my husband, and I am praying for you. Did you receive the card I sent?"
"Yeah, Sandy and I both received it. That's what caused her to make me get married."
"You didn't want to get married?"
"Just not now, but it will work out all right, I suppose."
"Tom, is your little Easter bunny pretty?"
"She looks a lot like you, but not as nice."
"Thanks, honey. I appreciate that."
"I guess that slipped out."
A band on the beach was missing one saxophone player that night. Tom was on the phone with Betty, his covenant wife, until he ran out of change. Betty then offered to call him back. Their conversation had its up and downs, but Betty gave God all glory that they were talking.
Throughout the call, she was able to express to her husband time and time again that she was praying for his return to the Lord and to their marriage.
Tom went on to the band, feeling good, and glad that he had made that call. He had captured, for a short while, that peace that he had always experienced at home, and that had escaped him since their divorce.
Several days later, Tom had one of those, "Wait until I tell Betty about this!" moments. He had wheeled a cart of groceries out for a woman wearing sunglasses and a scarf. The outline of the face resembled a famous actress. After her groceries had been placed insides a Mercedes, Tom just had to ask. It was indeed her! She had offered to autograph a photo from the car for Tom. For some unexplainable reason, he had requested a second photo, signed to Betty. Sandy had been momentarily forgotten in that moment.
Tom felt really dumb as he wheeled the empty shopping card across the huge Southport parking lot. What should he do? Sandy would have an absolute fit should she ever see something that she would really desire, but autographed to Betty. Yet, that photo was almost a collector's item. He couldn't throw it out.
On Tom's break that afternoon he went to the post office sub-station inside the card shop next door to the grocery and mailed the photo to Betty. It felt good to be writing the address of the Allison's Cincinnati home on the mailing envelope. The clerk helping him pack up the photo saw what it was and exclaimed, "How in the world did you get this? Wow! You must really love this Betty to have gotten this for her."
Tom walked outside and onto the sidewalk with those words ringing in his head. "Do I really love Betty?" Tom asked himself, "she was a good wife for twenty five years, and now it sounds like this religion thing has only made her better." Just then he passed the pay phone on the wall and stopped to call Betty. He had to tell her there was a surprise coming in the mail for her. "Strange," he thought as he dialed, "how I remembered the number of the flower shop."
For the next few days, he had to call Betty every day to see if her surprise had arrived. She always ended each call with, "Don't forget, I'm praying for you."
When the photo did arrive, Betty was thrilled. It was signed, "To my friend Betty. It was a ‘pleasure' doing business with your husband." Betty assumed Tom had sold the actress a yacht. She had no way of knowing the actress had taken off on a grocery store motto, ‘Where shopping is a pleasure', from the store where Tom was a bag boy.
Tom's daily phone calls to Betty continued, even without a specific reason. They were always brief, but pleasant, ending with that same, "Don't forget, I'm praying for you." Soon Tom was looking forward to hearing those words, and knowing that Betty really was praying for him.
About a week later, Tom was having a bad day. Sandy had been on the warpath that morning about something, probably money. Then he went out to discover that someone had cut through the top of his old convertible and had stolen his car radio. That afternoon, he had allowed a grocery cart to get away from him and roll into a fancy car. Although it made only a small mark, the owner was irate, and the store manager took it all out on Tom.
Soon afterward, Tom took his break and headed for that same telephone for his daily call to Betty. This call was different. "Stop praying for me!" he roared, "you are ruining my life! You and this standing thing are driving me nuts. I'm never coming home. You hear me, NEVER! Now get on with your life and leave me alone." By this time, Tom was screaming into the phone.
"Tom, I love you too much to ever stop praying for you. Good bye." Betty's ending the call that way did not allow Tom to hang up on her as he has anticipated. He stood on that sidewalk, holding the phone and became aware that several passing shoppers
had been watching him rant into the phone.
"What are you looking at?" Tom barked at one. "Get a life of your own and stop nosing into other people's business, you creep!" As soon as he had said it, he regretted it. "What is happening to me?" he asked himself, "I have never yelled at a stranger before. Betty is driving me nuts."
No, Tom, my friend. Betty is not driving you nuts. She has contacted you only one time, by card. Remember, it is you who has been calling her every day. The Holy Spirit of God is convicting you of some wrongs in your life.
That afternoon, Tom carried out his "paper or plastic?" routine, feeling remorseful for the telephone incident. He didn't know exactly what to do to correct what he had said to Betty. Neither did he know that Betty had already forgiven him for everything that he had said that day. In fact, she was now forgiving Tom every day for anything, known or unknown, that he had done that very day.
The manager of the store had asked Tom if he could stay over for a few extra hours that day. The band did not play that evening, and rather than go home to more of Sandy's wrath, he agreed.
That afternoon, Tom was wheeling groceries out for a