Chris Christofferson: Freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose...

Mary Ella got her 2nd wish. She escaped home for a quick marriage with another man. Marriage for her meant there was no back door for me, no second chances. I on the other hand decided I could dive into the dating pool without a net. But for mostly two years I floundered like a fish out of water.

I often had my nose in a textbook, but it didn't mean I stopped checking out the girls on campus. During my tenure in Arlington Texas, I don't recall getting more than a first date. I found when the girls got to know me on the inside, they didn't seem to like that look. I once told a girl my opinion of love on a date was best summed up by the Gatlin Brothers song, "Love is just game people like to play." That made her call off the first date before it ended. I could only blame my mother's abandonment of me for so many years before I needed to own my own head space with girls.

Mary would sometimes haunt me in my dreams. I would ask her if she was happy, but could never touch her, hold her, kiss her, and then I would wake up to my reality in the dorm. I needed a pastors' wife for the ministry, but I wasn't so sure I could make it as a pastor.

I moved on or rather time moved me along sometimes against my will. Before I knew it, I was twenty-four, a few years of school in the books, and another hot summer in Texas. Every now and then I wondered how married life was for Mary. But I still yearned for more. I wanted to be in love. I wanted a family. I wanted to be a father. Instead of praying for a pastor's wife, I prayed to share my life with the one and only one.

It was the summer of 1983 and I enjoyed spending my spare time with an old high school buddy and his wife. The year before he was driving down a sparse road in Texas and missed a hairpin turn. The car rolled over into a cow field. My friend spent the night and next day bleeding to death, having been thrown from his vehicle with a smashed foot and broke back.

All my friend had to get rescued was a red bandana and a save me Lord prayer. Finally, without another hour of life to spare, someone noticed the wreckage and saw him hanging on to a broken fence post. Spending time with my buddy meant that it would be my turn for a God moment or two.

When I was at his apartment one summer evening, we talked to a neighbor who was a student at the university. He often stayed up all night and went for days without sleep. While watching television with my friend and his wife I was overcome with what I can only describe as a rush of cool air and a tug in my heart. It wasn't an audible voice, but a sense of urgency to speak with the young neighbor about the gospel message before it was too late. But I brushed it off, chalked it up to self-guilt for not being a bold witness. We told him goodnight and he left--never to return.

A day or two later when I visited my best bud who had his own brush with death, he informed me at the door the bad news. "Hey, you know my neighbor, the college student who was a Muslim. He died the other night."

Doctors weren't sure but they suspected he may have had mono and that his lack of sleep weakened his immune system. Once again, the Lord reminded me, like David the Psalmist said, "We are but a step between life and death."

Another month later, I'm at my buddies apartment again. And yes, another a nudge came over me, but this time I asked if I could use their phone to call my old girlfriends family. I knew it was over, but hoped for closure, a means to tell Mary I was sorry for having left her in the lurch those years ago.

When I called Mary's family her father answered. "Well, I can't say too much. But Mary's in a bad way with this marriage. She left the buzzard once, and then decided she'd give him a second chance. Now she's gone and done carted herself far as Illinois. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know Mary, she can be more stubborn as a dang mule."

My heart sank into my stomach. He refused to give me her number, but he would tell her I called.

We made small talk for over an hour. I was racking up a pretty good long-distance bill on my buddy. I think his wife had given me the evil eye a few times. At some point, I don't recall when, Mary's father added, "Did you know Mary had a baby?"

"No sir." It felt like I'd swallowed a bunch of needles that stirred in my stomach. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of making a family work. Maybe, you could tell her for me I'm sorry I didn't step up when I had the chance with her. I...pray for her." And just when I relented to close the chapter between us...

something incredible happened! I was about to hang up when an operator came on the line. The operator said it was an urgent collect call from Mary Henderson, his daughter.

Later that evening, I learned that Mary was beaten half to death by her husband. He dragged her out into the walkway of the apartment where she passed out on the concrete. Thankfully, when she woke, her daughter Malissa was sitting next to her crying. She stumbled to her feet with Malissa on her hip and trekked toward the one home she thought might help her. It was where she called her father several times until the operator broke through the line.

Later there was a real concern her baby would be taken. She needed a guardian angel and a way of escape.

"The fear of man bringeth a snare, but whoso puts his trust in the Lord, shall be safe." Proverbs 29:25 (KJV)