Here is Part 2, click Here for Part 1.

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The fateful day started as any other. Jeanelle was in the kitchen when it came. It had been eight days since their last phone call with her husband and she expected a call any day. Her faith was so strong and her trust in the Lord so grounded that she did not at all expect the call she received. A phone ringing shattered the stillness. Leaping for it with almost joyful alacrity, she picked it up and pressed the button, expecting her husband’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Worth?”

“Oh,” she answered, disappointed. “Yes?”

You are Mrs. Jeanelle Worth?”

“Yes,” she answered, puzzled and with a frightening lump beginning to lodge in her throat for apparently no reason.

“Your husband is Sergeant David Worth?” continued the merciless questioner.

“For heaven’s sake, yes! Is something wrong?”

“I am Corporal Wilson. Hem! . . . Ma’am, your husband. . .”

“Is he injured? Oh, is he alright?!” she gasped in fear. One hand held the phone to her ear and the other pressing her swollen stomach as if to protect the innocent infant, within her.

“He was missing in action on his last day of duty,” Pause, “I’m sorry ma’am.”

“Oh God!” was the exclamation torn from the lips of the tortured woman, who, being completely overcome with shock fell heavily to the floor, in merciful unconsciousness.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?!” called the compassionate and now concerned officer on the other line. Thankfully the girls, who were in the other room, heard their mother’s tortured exclamation and fall, and came running into the room. Tessa knelt beside her mother, Brianna stood as one bewildered in the middle of the room. Lea, with great presence of mind, saw the phone lying on the floor and picked it up.

“Hello?” she called into it.

“I’m here,” answered the corporal. “Who is this?”

“Lea Worth, what did you tell my mother?” she asked indignantly.

“Something about your father. Is she alright?” he said evasively. “Should I call an ambulance for you?”

Lea knelt beside her mother. “I think she just fainted. Brianna! Go get Mrs. Grant from next door. Stop staring and go Brianna, hurry!” she said authoritatively. Brianna jumped and started on a run from the house. The Corporal gave some instructions, and then explained to Mrs. Grant what he had told Mrs. Worth. Then he hung up with a prayer. They made Mrs. Worth as comfortable on the kitchen floor as they could, before she awoke to the fact of her husband’s disappearance. But for now Mrs. Grant left her in peaceful oblivion. Alas! For it was short lived. When she awoke she had no time to think about her loved one, but instead had to concentrate on delivering her child into this world in safety. “Oh God! Let him live to carry on his daddy’s name!” was the one prayer she lifted to heaven during her rush to the hospital. And the Lord answered her prayer. When she lay on the hospital bed after it was all over, Pain racked and in physical and mental anguish, the doctor came in with a kind word.

“Although he is two months premature he’s doing finely. Rest easy. I have no fear whatsoever for him,” Was his kind injunction. With a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes and that exhaled all the tension and anxiety, she fell into a deep dreamless, exhausted sleep.

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Much to the Dr.’s chagrin, little sleep did Jeanelle Worth get those three days she spent in the hospital. Between the complete shock and anxiety, she felt over her husband’s missing state and wondering how to tell her daughters, her mind seemed in a state of turmoil. She did not sorrow. In explanation to a sympathetic nurse. . .

“Somehow, I don’t feel like he’s gone. If he was, I think a part of me would have died too but it’s not like that. I feel the same as ever.”

Staying in the hospital, alone for the most part, and making visits to her infant’s incubator, was the easiest part. Telling her daughters was another matter. After having taken little David home, she sent her sympathizing mother who had been watching the children home. She needed to be alone with her family. Reluctantly her mother left, but not before giving her a charge to call if she needed anything at all. Gathering her little girls close around her, she sat on the couch, holding her little Miracle baby close to her. He was a miracle to the simple fact that an infant his age would need to stay in a hospital for at least one to two weeks. Instead, little David Worth Jr. was healthy and strong, much stronger than was expected.

“Girls, the other day, when Mommy went to the hospital, I got some news about Daddy.” She said, looking closely at the three little girls. Lea was expectant, the other were incredulous.

“Daddy was, what they call, ‘missing in action’, which means that he uh . . . disappeared,” she finished with a laugh that was supposed to be lighthearted but came out as hysterical.

“Will he come back?” asked Tessa seriously with her huge blue eyes looking closely into her mother’s.

“The man I talked to said the situation is doubtful. But let’s pray that God brings him back to us. And that he protects him form all harm.”

“Does this mean I won’t ever see Daddy again?” said Brianna, starting up suddenly, her fists clenched at her side.

“Come here Baby,” said Jeanelle, the tears chasing each other down her face, laying the baby on the couch beside her and gathering Brianna into her lap and her arms. Brianna was rigid. Pushing away from her mother.

“I hate God!” she exclaimed, her face contorted and red.

“Brianna!” gasped Jeanelle.

“I don’t care! I hate Him for taking my Daddy!” she shouted. Jeanelle went to grab her arm so she could pull her into her lap again and sooth her agitation. Brianna was too fast for her and ran out of the room and into her bedroom. Slamming the door, she flung herself onto eh bed. Not to cry, but to seethe in rage. Jeanelle, left in the living room was thoroughly shocked at her daughter’s behavior.

“Let’s pray for Brianna too. I think the enemy is trying to lie to her and get her to be mad at God. Come on,” she said getting on the floor next to Lea and Tessa, already on their knees. Joining hands, they “raised their voices in supplication’ to the One who hears and answers all of our prayers. For Briana they prayed that God would protect her from the lies of the enemy and that he would sooth her grief. Before they were through, Brianna came out on her own. Her countenance was completely full of peace and even joy. Together they prayed for their father.

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By His Grace,

Victoria