Seeking Zion

Brother Samuels interrupted her mutterings and sobbings with a soft clearing of his throat. "We cannot wait any longer," he said, not meeting her eye. She stood and tried to stand in front of him, tried to make him look into her eyes, hoping to force him to see her pain one more time.

"Food rations are low and we've delayed so much already, I fear there won't be enough to last us to the end of our journey. I am so sorry . . . so sorry." His voice cracked at the last. "I wish I could do more for you, Sister." He put his hand on her shoulder, still not looking her in the eyes and yet his shoulders slumped in defeat. He had said what needed saying, and yet he still felt defeated. He turned and walked away, his image shadowed instantly as he left the fire's light.

Constance dropped to her knees and allowed herself to be overcome with all the tears she had held back. Sister Nielson stopped her oldest daughter from trying to offer comfort. "Let her cry, Emily." Sister Nielsen whispered to her daughter. "Her soul needs to let it out." Emily cried with Constance from a distance. Constance could hear her sniffling from behind her.

Once the sobs subsided, Emily offered her a smile.
"I'm sorry Emily, I . . . I just want to die when I think of that last moment when he touched my face and sang the baby to sleep . . . will that really be all I have left of him? A memory? Will that really be my last moment? I don't even think I told him how much I loved him! I was so tired. Did he hear me with my voice full of sleep?"
"I'm sure he heard you," Emily said. But Constance knew the words were empty. Who knew what he heard as the sky thundered and the wagon rattled in the wind.

Constance left to her own wagon where she knew Eliza was sleeping. She knelt on her blankets and poured out her heart. "Lord? What would you have me do?"  Her mind felt numb. She had never felt so alone in her life. Even when she had been cast off from her family in England and all of her letters were returned unopened from her mother, she had not felt this alone. Had God abandoned her?

"What direction should I go? What Lord, do you want of me. I have done everything you asked! Everything! I have left everything I loved and still you want more of me!" She realized she had shouted the last, and knew the other families in their wagons would hear but she didn't care. There were many nights where the others in the company had cried through the night over the loss of a child or an elderly parent. Would they judge her for giving into the weakness of her own despair?

"It isn't worth it, Lord," she said finally after she allowed her thoughts to drift to her own mother and to all the trials she had overcome to get to this very point. "I don't care what Zion is anymore. It could be more beautiful than Eden and it would not be worth it. I can't leave him. I cannot go on without him, Lord. To go on without him would be Hell enough to blind me to any beauty Zion might hold!" The blasphemy tasted bitter on her tongue. She repented the thoughts and anger but could she expect forgiveness for feelings she still harbored?

Constance buried her face in her pillow to muffle the sounds of her crying. And though she never finished her prayer vocally, in her heart she continued pleading to know what she should do next.

* * *

“Lizzie! Sister Peterson’s on the phone!”

            Liz rounded the corner and glared at her mom through the banister poles at the top of the stairs. She shook her head violently, trying to get it through her mom’s head that there was no way she was talking to Sister Peterson or anyone else from the Young Women’s presidency.

            Her mother held the phone to her chest to muffle her words. “Now, Eliza.”

            Liz shook her head again and mouthed the word, “No.”

            With a deep breath, Clair King put the phone back to her ear. “I’m sorry, Sister Peterson, Liz refuses to come to the phone right now. You know how teenagers are . . .”

            “Mom!” Liz hissed in disbelief.

            When her mom hung up, she folded her arms across her chest. “What?”

            “Why would you tell her that?”

            “What did you think I was going to do? Lie to her for you?”

            Liz’s green eyes flashed. “It would have been more tactful.”

            “Tactful would be coming to the phone when you get a call.”

            “She was going to ask me to sing. I’m not singing in the sacrament program.”

            “Why?” Her mother met her glare, but Liz saw that the green eyes were tired and her heart wasn’t into the fight Liz insisted on battling.

            “They’re singing the song Families Can Be Together Forever.”

            “So?”

            “So, it’s not true. You said I should never lie.”

            Clair rolled her eyes. “You’re just being difficult. It is too true.”

            “It isn’t for me. Not anymore. So forget it. I’m not singing.”

            Her mother pressed her palm to her forehead. With her other hand she clutched the emerald necklace hanging at her throat, as though it could offer some magic to quell Liz’s growing resentment. Liz snorted at that. No necklace could fix their family no matter where it came from. The emerald stone was part of the family inheritance that would be passed to Liz when her mom died. Her mom said it was fitting since Liz had already inherited her mom’s green eyes and dark hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “Talk about what?”

            “Your father.”

            “No. He’s a cheating son of a—”

            “Eliza!”

            “Gun, Mom. Son of a gun. I’m still not singing.”

Liz went to her room to change out of her dress into pair of jeans and a t shirt. She pulled the hair she had tried to curl that morning into a pony tail. The curls hadn't turned out anyway.

She thought about what her teacher said. What was it? Something about asking Heavenly Father what He wanted her to do in her life. Would He answer if she asked? He wasn't very responsive when she begged Him to make her parents stay together and love each other again. He had ignored her.

Before she knew it, she was on her knees. She clasped her hands together and began. "Heavenly Father, I am really thankful for all of my blessings . . ." She wasn't exactly thankful but she tried to be and figured that had to be good enough for right now. "I just don't understand Heavenly Father. Why is my family so lame?" She wondered if it was a sin to call your family lame in a prayer. But they were lame and it would probably be a bigger sin to lie in a prayer and say they weren't. "Sister Peterson said I should ask what you want me to do in my life. So I thought I'd give it a tr-"

Thump Thump! "Eliza!" It was her mom. Liz tried to ignore the noise.
"So anyway, Lord, I-"

"Eliza! I need you to come downstairs right now."

"I'm busy!" Liz called back, unable to hide the frustration in her voice.

"Now Eliza. No arguments!" She heard her moms footsteps fade away down the hall

Liz glared at her still folded hands and with a huge breath of frustration, muttered, "See, I told you they were lame!" She pushed herself up and stalked downstairs.

"What do you need?"

"Don't take that tone. It's time for Family Home Evening."

"Family Home Evening is on Mondays."

Her mother’s shoulders slumped. “We have to do it today. My new job goes until 7:30.”

            Liz stiffened. “What new job?”

            “I’ll start working as a receptionist at the optical shop in the mall. They’re open until nine, but the other girl closes. I’m really lucky to get to go home earlier.”

            “And you waited ‘til now to tell us?” Liz was entirely baffled and totally ticked to be slammed with such news.

            “They just called to ask me to start tomorrow. I didn’t really think I’d get the job.”

            “Why would you even apply?”

            “If we want to keep the house, I need to work. There isn’t enough in child support to pay the house payment and keep eating too.”

            “Then we should move!” Liz shouted. She was sick and tired of the ward and neighborhood anyway. This was the last straw. For her mom to work to keep the house was insanity.

            “Liz, be reasonable. This isn’t forev—”

            “What about staying home and being a mom?” Liz knew she was scaring her younger brother, Matt, but didn’t care. She was so mad she could’ve walked straight into her dad’s new apartment where he was likely kissing his new fiancé and kick them both. She’d kick the fiancé twice!

"Who's going to watch the kids and take them to all those lessons you signed them up for?"

Clair’s eyes closed briefly, as though she’d reached the end of her patience. “I’m really going to need your help in this.”

            “What? I have to take care of them? I have riding lessons at the stables twice a week! Then there’s school . . . I have a life!” She didn’t really have a life outside the stables, but such points were never good to bring up in arguments like this.

            “Lizzie—”

            “Don’t Lizzie me. I am sick of this! You call me down here for Family Home Evening and then tell me you’re getting a job, and I have to take over as mom. That’s insane!”

"Go to your room, Liz." Her mother didn't yell, but the whisper felt like a sonic boom.

Liz opened her mouth to reply, but was too angry. She wanted to scream and shout and stomp her feet.  Another part of her wanted comfort. She wanted to run to her dad and have him smooth her hair and say, “You’re my little Snow White.” Hating him and needing him at the same time only served to further fuel her anger.

She turned on a heel and stomped away. She glanced back when she got to the stairs. Alison was still shaking her head and tossing dirty looks Liz’s direction. Her mother held tightly to Matt with tears springing from her closed eyes. And it was all Liz’s fault..

***

Liz jerked the chin strap of her brother's helmet a little too tight. She was so upset, she didn't bother to loosen it up. Her mom was getting a new job. She was going to have to take over as babysitter and caregiver for her younger siblings while her dad was off sun tanning on a beach for his honeymoon with an empty headed drone! She grinded her teeth and drove away, as if by leaving, she was really escaping.

When the scooter came to a stop she took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of the stables where her horse, Sassy, was housed.

She clipped the helmet to the front handlebar and made her way to the stall where Sassy was kept. She unlocked the gate and went in, rubbing her hand along the horses' nose. Sassy whickered and swished her tail, blinking her big brown eyes. "At least you're glad to see me." Liz said. She stood there running her hand along Sassy's neck for a long time. She finally picked up a brush and brushed Sassy down before settling herself on the hay at the back of the stall. Sassy turned her head to stare at Liz.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," Liz said, as though the horse had asked a question. "I don't know what I'm doing anywhere." She muttered the last flicking a handful of straw at the wood slatted walls in frustration.

She remembered Sister Peterson asking her to pray and find out what Heavenly Father wanted her to be and where he wanted her to go. To find her personal sacred grove.

Making the decision to actually pray took some time. She didn't feel like praying and yet felt like she needed to. At least this time she wouldn't be told to come down to Family Home Evening. She was on her knees before making the conscious decision to talk to Heavenly Father. She had her arms folded while still admonishing herself for thinking Heavenly Father would really tell her what direction to take. And then she was praying.

She poured her heart out to the Lord in a way she had never done. She cried and whined, thanking Him for blessings she found she truly felt thankful for, while yelling at Him for not helping her when she needed it most. Then she asked the question, "What do You want me to do with my life? What is it You really want me to become?" Her heart pounded and she listened for the answers she knew without a doubt would come.

She was exhausted, unaware of the time that had passed, only knowing that a lot of time had passed since her knees ached and her legs were asleep. Her back popped as she stretched and laid herself back into the straw. She had listened so long waiting for Him to answer, but the heavens were silent to her.

Liz felt betrayed by the silence. Especially when she had known as she asked that He would answer. So why didn't He? She didn't just believe He would, she KNEW He would. Did she not kneel long enough? Did she not wait long enough?
She was so disappointed and yet so tired that she was asleep as the first tears slid out from her closed eyes.

***

Eliza King and Constance Miles are about to get the answer to their prayers . . . through eachother. Though parted by 150 years, they are brought together in contemporary times to find out what exactly it is Heavenly Father has in store for them. This experience gives them both some laughs, some tears and a chance to learn about family ties that last beyond the fabric of time.