Page 71 of With All My Heart, Joy

Her look was one of grave concern as she closed the door behind him. “I’m already aware of the situation. Joy Halverson has enough local viewers that your full name was quickly ascertained. I came in today to at least fifteen voicemails expressing concern about a breach of counselor-client relationship boundaries.”

He slinked down low in his chair. There went his respect in the community. Up in smoke.

“I don’t need to remind you that if anything untoward happened while Joy was your client, you could lose your licensing or be put on probation by the state.”

He was going to spit up his coffee. “But Marie, nothing happened then. I told you everything.”

“I know, Isaac,” she said, her tone gentling. “I know. But others don’t. Don’t worry, I’ll return every call and let them know you were no longer Joy’s counselor when you began your relationship. I can’t have Living Hope getting a bad name. And you don’t deserve it, either. But you should have been more careful.”

He shouldn’t have been anything at all with Joy. Never mind that he loved her and had been ready to offer his heart to her last night. None of that mattered now. Because he deserved to lose Joy. He hadn’t deserved Joy in the first place, and he’d known it.

He always got what he deserved.

When he got home late that afternoon, his head pounded with a migraine. He hadn’t had a migraine in years. Only sheer willpower had gotten him through a day of offering counsel to clients who believed he held all the answers. Maybe he had answers for them. But he was plumb out of answers for himself.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” His mom’s voice surprised him when he came in from the garage. He’d never been much of a one for hiding his emotions from his mother. He’d hidden a lot of other things. But not his feelings.

“Joy broke up with me last night.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“It’s okay. I don’t deserve her.”

“Now, hold on there.” A spoon-wielding hand slapped against her hip. “We’ve been over this before. No amount of past mistakes can negate us from being worthy of God’s good gifts when we truly turn to him. Zaki—honey—you’ve berated yourself for so long about the decisions you made that led to Paisley’s birth. You need to stop and find joy in God’s gift—Paisley. It’s past time to stop looking at her as your just reward, as a fitting punishment. Sweetheart, she isn’t a barrier to a happy life. Sheisyour happy life.”

As the words soaked in, he found himself battling tears.

“I know you’ve always felt it was impossible to find a woman who will accept you and Paisley as a package deal because Paisley’s mother couldn’t do it. But you’re wrong, son. There arehundredsof moms out there moving mountains to make a better life for their disabled children. Finding one who will fit into your life is not that hard. Your problem is believing that you are worthy of such a blessing.”

She palmed his face. “Maybe Joy isn’t the one. But that doesn’t mean no one is. And it most certainly doesn’t mean you don’t deserve one.” She brushed back the hair that always tumbled over his forehead. “You know, for a counselor, you don’t have a whole lot figured out.”

Understatement of the century.

Isaac muttered an unintelligible response and trudged to his room, offering Paisley a weak greeting. Beside his bed, he crashed to his knees, pressed his face to the blanket, and let his emotions out before the Father who had never left him even when he most certainly deserved it.

“Why are you so good? Why have you stuck with me when I didn’t deserve it?” The words wrenched from his mouth in anguish as tears trickled down his face and into his beard. He’d been operating on the belief that he didn’t deserve love for so long. Was it too late to change the way he viewed himself—and view himself as God did? Ten years ago, he’d repented of his sins and asked God into his heart, but he hadn’t realized until today that there were pieces of his heart he’d held back.

His greatest fear was that he was unworthy of love. But God proved that wrong every single day. The Son of God had died forIsaac Milleron Calvary, and by doing so declared that he was worthy of the deepest love on the planet. Isaac didn’t know if he would find the earthly love he craved. But as he communed with his Savior on knees that grew as stiff as rusty metal gates, he believed—perhaps for the first time in his life—that he deserved that love. Whether he found it or not.

He was done living in fear.

Determination shot through him, and he strode into his attached bathroom and reached for his razor. He’d learned to live with another fear by hiding the reminders. It was time to stare them in the face. He might not be able to get Paisley a mom for Christmas—not this year. Maybe another year, although his heart nearly slapped him at the thought of loving anyone but Joy. But he still had time to get Paisley a puppy.

When the razor fell silent, the counter littered with thick, dark hair, Isaac stared at his reflection in the mirror. The skin under his chin was waxy with crooked scars. But it was free of the beard that had long obscured it. Just like his eyes were free of the lies that had blinded him for almost as long.

When he returned to the kitchen, his mom pressed both hands to her open mouth. “Oh, Zak.” Her arms trembled as she opened them and folded him into her embrace. “It’syou. The Zak I always knew was still inside. Let me see you, honey.” Her motherly hands touched the deformed skin with tenderness. “All this time, I imagined it was much, much worse. And in actuality, I can hardly see the scars.”

Her words hit much deeper than something as superficial as his skin.

The next day the counseling center closed at noon, and Isaac wished his coworkers a merry Christmas. Marie had assured him that morning that all would be well. Any local doubt about him would blow over with time. Now, as he went out the door, she handed him a wrapped gift.

“For Paisley,” she said. Isaac thanked her. It was good to have a loyal business partner. He was glad he’d been honest with her when he didn’t have to be so that she believed him when he had to be.

Instead of driving straight home, he drove to the pet shop. He stepped from his car, pushed his shoulders back, and walked inside. For the first time since the attack, the sound of dogs barking didn’t make his heart race with fear.

He left the store half an hour later, significantly poorer and with a bouncing carry case in his hand. It was almost time to go home. But he had one more stop.

The card aisle at the local pharmacy.

---