Episode #20 & 21: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

Hey friends! Sorry for the delay. I got sick and didn't even think about my blog. So today, you get two episodes and hopefully, I'll get into a better blogging rhythm.

Things at the store were slow. I sipped my vanilla caramel tea and looked around for something to fill my time as I waited for four PM. At that time I would set up for a book club we were hosting. For once, I had the whole shop in order. What was I to do?

I looked toward the window at the rain pattering against the sidewalk. It was probably why we didn’t have any customers, but I thought it was a perfect day to be curled up in a bookshop with a tea counter.

I took my cup of tea and moved around the shelves. I made some minor adjustments and entered the kid’s area. Since we hadn’t had many kids this rainy day, and those few had been well-behaved, there hadn’t meant much that needed straightening.

I looked at the shelves that housed some of my childhood favorites as well as newer children’s books. I smiled as I fingered a beautiful edition of the Chronicles of Narnia. Perhaps I should reread it. I remembered The Horse and His Boy had been my favorite.

My eyes drifted to some of the Narnia-inspired merchandise we kept around and sold regularly. I pulled out the coloring book. While I had sold many of these, I hadn’t taken the time to look at them. After all, it had been years since I had read any of the Narnia books. The coloring book contained some of the original art from the books and coloring pages inspired by that art. What a cozy idea to curl up with one of the Narnia books and a coloring book.

I looked toward the door. There still wasn’t a customer. I slid the coloring book from the shelf and returned to the front desk. I opened my library app and discovered what I had hoped: an audiobook of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. After I paid for the coloring book, I dug out the colored pencils behind the counter that were kept there for Molly and Anna.

I soon found myself swept back to my childhood. I sipped my tea and colored as I watched the rain outside with a peaceful feeling. I had planned to get a coloring book for one of my weekly fun things, this was the perfect day for it. 

“How long did you color for?” Ivy asked, sitting on the floor of my room as she painted her nails.

I shrugged. “For over an hour. I set up for the book club and had ten minutes after that before we got a customer. I feel sorry for Jared and Lacie for having to pay me for the time but it was nice and relaxing.

Ivy sighed. “That must have been nice. It seems like the kids I nanny just get worse on cloudy days. I tried to read them a book and the two boys kept fighting.”

Meg snorted. “Well, don’t forget, Pam also has to deal with Mrs. Kingston and that author guy on a regular basis. I think every job has its ups and downs.”

I shared a smile with Meg even as Ivy rolled her eyes.”

“Maybe we could watch the Narnia movie together tonight.” Ivy offered.

“ooo! Which one?”

We looked up to see the boys standing in the doorway, both in their uniforms from work. Ben was unbuttoning the top button of his nice shirt, as usually glad to be done with the formal wear of his office for the day. Asa stood in his fast-food uniform. He had just been promoted and talked about one day owning his own location. We would see where he went.

“I don’t think we want to start this war,” Meg said.

“Oh, let’s start it.” Asa plopped down next to Ivy. “Shall I get the good version?”

I shook my head, knowing what would come next.

Ben cleared his throat. “If by good you mean the one that followed the book better, you can find the BBC sitting in my room.”

“The animals are creepy!” Ivy and Asa said together and then laughed.

We were all laughing. When we were young, we often watched the 1980s BBC Narnia together. Of course, some of us, me being one of them, adored it for the nostalgia of our childhood. Ben loved it because it was closer to the book. Ivy didn’t mind what we watched if we were watching together. Meg and Asa thought the more modern adaptation by Disney was superior.

“Well, if you want creepy puppets…” Asa started.

“Well, if you want CGI everything…” Ben countered.

“If you want an Aslan with a good voice, verses one that sounds asleep…” Meg offered.

I laughed. What had started as a serious debate in our teens was now a fun-filled argument of our adulthood.

“Pam?” Ben looked at me.

I smiled. “I’ll make popcorn while y’all argue it out.” While I was feeling in a nostalgic mood as the rain continued to fall outside, I would be happy with whichever movie we picked. As I made popcorn, the BBC version won out. Asa added pizza pockets to the offerings and Meg made a veggie tray. We piled on the couch and the movie began.

I gave a happy sigh and then looked upward. This had been a wonderful and peaceful day. I silently thanked God for it right before entering into a discussion about the fashion of the two Narnia versions.

Sitting on my bed as the rain continued to pour outside. I pulled out my mercies notebook.

Rainy Days

The Chronicles of Narnia

Sibling time

Peaceful day

Hope

Again, as I wrote that last work, the tears slipped down my cheek. It was true, I was feeling hope again. It had been so long since I had a day that truly felt peaceful, and this one had.

God was bringing healing and hope into my life.

Episode #21

I looked at the back of my closet. I had finished listening to The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and was planning on starting on The Horse and His Boy. In re-listening to the first book, an idea from my childhood had resurrected. I had thought it would be fun to paint a lamppost at the back of the closet.

I smiled to myself as I envisioned some rainy day pushing aside my clothes and seeing a little bit of Narnia.

As the painting day with my siblings had shown me, I was no artist. I decided I would try though. I had a dozen things I should do, but I wanted to escape reality for a while. Mom and Dad had left for counseling and they hadn’t looked happy. Why weren’t things getting better? Was counseling making it worse?

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything. I dug out my tubes of paint, grateful I had a lot of black, and pulled my clothes out of the closet.

Using a pencil, I sketched an outline as I listened to the opening chapter of The Horse and His Boy. How I remembered loving this story. I finally was satisfied with my outline and I pulled out the paints. I started filling in the black parts, as the horse taught Shasta to ride.

“Pam?”

I looked up. Mom stood in the doorway, her eyes red. I stood and swallowed. “Yes?”

“Could you come to the living room?”

“Pam?” I blinked and then shook myself. The customer was staring at me. I realized I had already asked her to repeat her order twice and it was something very simple yet it hadn’t sunk into my brain.

Lacie gently pushed me out of the way and completed to order. I stood there blinking trying to get myself to care or even respond to what was going on, but I couldn’t seem to shake myself out of the stupor I was in. I felt numb all over.

“Pam?”

I stared at Lacie and tried to think, tried to feel, try to do anything other than just stare. How had I made it safely to work? Oh, right, I had put on some loud music and refused to think about what my parents had said. And then I entered the store and I saw a book my dad loved on an endcap and my brain had frozen and I couldn’t seem to get it unstuck.

“Pam, I’ve got to admit, you’re scaring me. I’m wondering if I should call 911.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “I’m sorry it’s just that…” I took a deep breath and the tears started and the pain in my heart was so sharp. I wanted the numbness back.

“Pam?”

I sank to the floor, and muffled my sobs with my hands, not wanting to scare the customers. I forced myself to stand and I rushed to the back room and broke out with guttural sobbing, still muffling it with my hands.

“Pam?”

I gulped in breaths as Lacie came towards me and finally gained enough control. To speak. “My…Dad… moving out.”

Lacie sank beside me. “Your parents are divorcing?”

I shook my head, even as the sobs shook me even harder.

Lacie stroked my hair for a moment. “You just stay back here as long as you need and then you can come talk to me.”

I sobbed longer and harder than I had in years. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop for a long time. Finally, the sobs subsided and I pulled myself together. I used the tiny employee bathroom to splash water on my face. I smoothed my hair and stepped out into the bookshop. A few people were browsing the book store and I kept my head down as I made my way to Lacie at the tea counter. I slid onto one of the customer stools.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. “You don’t have to pay me for this morning.”

Lacie waved her hand. “What’s going on?” She set a mug of lavender spearmint tea in front of me.

“My parents have been in counseling, but they…” I took a shuddering breath. “It hasn’t been going well. It was decided my parents needed some time apart to heal. It just…” I wiped at my nose and then rolled my eyes at my gesture. Couldn’t I at least avoid being gross?

“That is hard.” Lacie offered.

“If my parents can’t stay married, who can?” I blurted.  It took a sip of the tea and regretted it. It hurt going down. I couldn’t eat or drink right now. “And my siblings and I stayed up late and I tried to be strong for them and…”

Lacie’s hand on my arm stopped me. “They aren’t getting a divorce and God still has a plan here.”

I slapped a hand on the counter. “I’ve been trusting Him and I know where that leads. I lost my best friend. I saw the guy I liked leave my life. What will I do if He takes my parents?” I was crying again. “I can’t take it.”

Lacie came around and pulled me into a hug. “That’s more than any person can endure. Paul himself talked about going through things beyond his ability to endure. But he knew God would deliver him. His hope and focus weren’t on an outcome - it was on the Author of his story. God is writing your story, Pam, not the people who hurt you.”

I stared at her and slowly found the words penetrating my heart.

When I got home from work, I put the clothes back into the closet and left the lamppost unfished. I stared at the mercies notebook and didn’t think I could ever look at it again.

I finished getting ready for bed and pulled the notebook into my lap. I opened it and went through all the things I had written down.

I decided I should add the words I wanted my heart to know, even if I didn’t believe them fully.

Today’s mercy: God is writing my story, not the people, or circumstances, that are hurting me.