Page 90 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Aspen looked away. “Oh. Well… Not necessarily.”

“Because for some people, lists are the problem, right? Aren’t there people who suffer from OCD who compulsively make lists?”

“I’m not obsessive or compulsive.” She leaned away from him, eyes wide. “I’m not?—”

“I didn’t say you were. You’re as sane as any of us. I’m just saying…” He took a deep breath, prayed for wisdom, and gentled his voice. “Your mother was mentally ill. That’s a brain-chemistry issue. All the lists in the world wouldn’t have cured her of it.”

“I know.” Her voice was small. She looked away. “I know that. It’s just…”

He wanted to throw his opinions at her, the few facts he knew about mental illness. He wanted to anticipate what she was thinking and tell her why she was wrong. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and waited.

“I know lists wouldn’t have fixed my mother. And she had plans. To blow up a building—that took planning. It just makes mefeelsane. I feel like, if I can just follow my path, then I won’t go the way she did.”

He scooted his chair closer and took Aspen’s hands in his. “You are not your mother any more than I’m my father. In some ways, we take after our parents. Believe me, I don’t want to be anything like my dad, and when I see his personality traits cropping up in myself, I want to hate that part of me, to destroy it. But I don’t have to do that. I only have to surrender myself to my heavenly Father. As followers of Christ, we are first His children. We should strive to be like Him.”

“That’s so easy to say.”

“It’s about faith. Do you believe God has given you a sound mind? That’s His promise, you know. It’s right there in the Bible.”

“I know that. But I think that my lists?—”

“Your lists aren’t keeping you sane. Your God has given you your sanity, your ability to think, your ability to reason.”

“There are Christians who suffer from mental illness.”

“Yes, that’s true. I’m not…” He sent up a silent prayer for wisdom. “I don’t have all the answers, Aspen. But, looking at you”—he leaned in, gazed into her beautiful eyes—“I see a woman with a sound mind, a beautiful heart, and a tender spirit. You are your mother’s daughter. And your father’s daughter. But mostly, you’re God’s daughter.”

Feeling brave, maybe stupid, he continued. “I’m not saying you should stop making lists. I’m saying you should make all the lists you want, but remember that God’s plans trump yours. It’s humility to yield to Him.”

“I see what you’re saying.”

But her face said otherwise.

“It seems to me…” He paused, very aware that he was pushing his luck. But he believed he was seeing something about her that maybe she couldn’t see herself. He forged ahead. “It seems to me that you’ve spent a whole lot of your life tryingnotto be like your mother. You’ve focused a lot of time on trying tonot besomething you never were. I wonder how much time you’ve spent trying to figure out who you really are.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

Great. He’d made her cry.Idiot. He grabbed a clean napkin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just ignore me.”

She smiled, though tears trickled from her eyes. She took the napkin he offered to wipe her cheeks. “You haven’t offended me. I never thought about how much time I’ve dedicated to making sure I’m not crazy.”

“We’re not using that word, remember?”

Her lips twitched. “Right. That’s part of what this trip is about for me. I feel like…like I don’t know who I am. Like maybe, if I can figure out who my mother was, maybe I can figure out who I am.”

“I’m not saying that your mother had no bearing on who you are. But I suspect you’ve become who you are not because of her but despite her.”

“Except for all the energy I’ve expended trying not to be her.”

He conceded that with a nod. “I don’t know what you’re hoping to discover here,” he said, “aside from the facts about who your mother was and what she did, and maybe what became of her. But you don’t need to worry about your sanity or yourvalue. And you aren’t going to find your answers in your parents’ history or in your plans or your lists. You’re certainly not going to find them by earning a degree in something you don’t want to do. God created you. He’s the one who decides who you are. He’s the One with the answers.”

She dabbed at the tears, smiling through them. “You’re right. I know you’re right. In my head anyway. Especially about college. I should figure out what God wants me to do. Maybe going to Florida isn’t the best idea.”

“I can’t speak for God, but I sure wouldn’t mind if you stuck around a little while.” He might as well spill it all. “Maybe I’m imagining this thing between us. We haven’t known each other long, but you’re…amazing. I’ve never felt for anybody else what I feel for you.”

He watched for some reaction. She didn’t nod, but she also didn’t look away, just gazed at him with those big green eyes.

“I think there might be something here, with you and me.”

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