BKMT READING GUIDES

Living Right
by Laila Ibrahim

Published: 2016-04-15
Paperback : 292 pages
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Jenn's life is turned upside down after her beloved son overdoses on sleeping pills and then reveals he struggles with same-sex attractions. Jenn's trusted pastor convinces her that Josh’s “condition” is treatable, so the family pursues conversion therapy. Jenn is confident life will return ...
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Introduction

Jenn's life is turned upside down after her beloved son overdoses on sleeping pills and then reveals he struggles with same-sex attractions. Jenn's trusted pastor convinces her that Josh’s “condition” is treatable, so the family pursues conversion therapy. Jenn is confident life will return to normal after Josh attends a conference for teens who suffer from same sex attractions—but she couldn't be more wrong. Living Right strips away the politics of gay rights to reveal what’s really at stake in this ongoing conflict: family. Living Right explores an intimate and sensitive topic with insight and compassion.

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Excerpt

A strong America must also value the institution of marriage. I believe we should respect individuals as we take a principled stand for one of the most fundamental, enduring institutions of our civilization.

Congress has already taken a stand on this issue by passing the Defense of Marriage Act, signed in 1996 by President Clinton. That statute protects marriage under federal law as the union of a man and a woman, and declares that one state may not redefine marriage for other states.

Activist judges, however, have begun redefining marriage by court order, without regard for the will of the people and their elected representatives. On an issue of such great consequence, the people’s voice must be heard. If judges insist on forcing their arbitrary will upon the people, the only alternative left to the people would be the constitutional process. Our nation must defend the sanctity of marriage.

The outcome of this debate is important, and so is the way we conduct it. The same moral tradition that defines marriage also teaches that each individual has dignity and value in God’s sight.

President George Bush

State of the Union, 2004

?

Chapter 1

Sunday, February 15, 2004

The house was quiet when they got home from brunch. Josh must still be sleeping, Jenn thought as she threw in a load of laundry. Then she checked the answering machine. Her mom had called to say that her friend Mary had seen Jenn on the news. Guess this is my fifteen minutes of fame. Jenn smiled. Then she was immediately ashamed for being arrogant and admonished herself, I didn’t set out today to be on the news but to do the work of the Lord.

She climbed the beige-carpeted stairs to check on her teenager. His was the middle bedroom, adjacent to the kids’ bath. She tapped quietly. No answer. Opening the door slowly, she peered into the dark room and immediately a foul stench hit her. After her eyes adjusted, she saw the cause: vomit speckled the side of Josh’s navy-blue comforter, ending in a puddle on the ground. Oh, poor honey, Jenn thought. He’d entirely missed the garbage can she had left in the night. Dead asleep, he likely he hadn’t even noticed he’d been sick. Fortunately, he was on his side, so she wasn’t worried that he’d inhaled his vomit. She went to the bathroom to get washcloths and towels to wipe up the mess. As she approached the bed, Jenn said, “Josh, it’s Mom. You threw up while you were sleeping. I’m going to wipe you down.”

He didn’t stir. She rubbed the damp terry cloth against his slack mouth. No movement.

“Josh,” Jenn said a little louder, her pulse speeding up.

She shook him gently and then urgently. “Josh!” He didn’t respond.

“Josh!” Jenn yelled and shook him hard. His head flopped back and forth. His breathing was shallow. A wave of adrenaline shot through her body, putting every cell of her body on high alert. “Josh, wake up!”

Dear God, help my son. Jenn ran to the wooden banister overlooking the living room and called for her husband. “Steve!” Her voice was ragged and sharp, pushing down the rising force of hysteria.

Without waiting for an answer, she rushed into her bedroom, grabbed the cordless receiver, and dialed 911. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!

“Hello, what is your emergency?” the dispatcher said.

“My son,” Jenn spoke in a rush. “He isn’t breathing very well, and he won’t wake up.”

“What’s your address?” the dispatcher asked calmly.

“Forty-four ninety-nine Sparrow Court in Dublin,” Jenn replied. “Off of Hawk Way.”

“How long has he been unresponsive?” the dispatcher asked.

“I don’t know. We just got home.”

“How old is your son?”

“Sixteen. Please send someone now,” Jenn begged. “He needs help. He threw up while we were at church. We left him for just a few hours, and when we got back, he was like this.”

The dispatcher asked, “Do you see a bottle near him?”

“What?”

“Has he taken any pills?” the woman asked in a flat voice.

“No!” Jenn was shocked. “My son doesn’t do drugs.”

“An ambulance is on the way.”

“Thank you!” A small measure of relief washed over Jenn. “Thank you so much.”

The dispatcher instructed, “Keep him on his side in case he vomits again. Otherwise, don’t move him.”

“We won’t,” Jenn said. “Thank you. Tell them to hurry, please.”

“I’ll stay on the line with you until they arrive. Someone will be there soon.”

“Thank you.”

Jenn went back to the banister and screamed down to the large, cathedral-height space, “Steve. Steve!”

“What?” He came out from the kitchen and looked up at her, his blue eyes wide with concern.

“Josh won’t wake up. I just called an ambulance. Wait for them outside,” Jenn commanded. “Wave them down so they know where to come.”

“What are you talking about?” He rushed toward the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Please, just wait for them. Outside,” Jenn begged. Steve hesitated, his eyes on the bedroom door behind Jenn. “Steve, please.”

Steve turned to go outside and Jenn went back into Josh’s room. Standing over his bed, she searched his face for some hint that he was about to wake up, but his eyes remained closed, with no hint of awareness or response. Her chest hurt. She took a deep breath, trying to control her panic. She knelt by her son and brushed his brown hair back from his cold, clammy forehead. Something was really, really wrong.

“Great physician, Lord Jesus Christ,” Jenn prayed out loud, “please restore Josh to full health; Lord, if You save him, You’ll be glorified through his life. Lord Jesus, please take care of my Josh. Guide the hands of the paramedics, doctors, and nurses that will—”

Suddenly Steve led two tall men into the room, one thin and the other broad, dressed in identical blue shirts. Jenn scrambled away from the bed to give them space to work.

“Hello? Hello?”

Jenn startled at the voice coming from her hand. It was the 911 dispatcher on her phone.

“They’re here,” Jenn said in a rush into the receiver.

“OK. Best wishes to all of you,” came the steady voice.

“Thank you,” Jenn replied automatically and then hung up.

Jenn grabbed onto Steven’s arm, wanting the connection with him, as the paramedics bent over their son, working calmly and efficiently. The thin one tipped back his head and leaned over Josh’s face. The other searched for a vein in his arm and then inserted an IV needle. He attached wires to Josh’s body and connected them to a machine. Numbers came up on a monitor: 110, 93, 73/41.

“What does that mean?” Jenn whispered to Steve without taking her eyes off of the bed.

“I’m pretty sure one hundred ten is his heart rate, which is high. Ninety-three is the oxygen level in his blood. That’s low. And the seventy-three over forty-one is his blood pressure—way too low. Oh, Jenn. Praise God you found him.” She could feel Steve trembling.

“I didn’t give him a hug,” Jenn whispered. She blinked back tears.

“What?”

“I wouldn’t hug him. Last night when he threw up. I was afraid I’d get sick. I could have…hugged him—” Her voice broke. “And I didn’t.”

“Oh, Jenn. He knows you love him,” Steve reassured her. “That single lost hug won’t matter.”

Jenn shook her head slowly. “Of course it matters. What if he…?” Her voice broke. Her mind flashed to a brain tumor. She’d recently read about a teenager who fell into a coma in the night and never woke up. What if her Josh was gone just like that?

An EMT interrupted her thoughts. “We’ll take him to Eden. One of you can come in the ambulance.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Jenn asked, desperate for a reassuring answer.

“I don’t know, ma’am,” the paramedic said. “But he’s stable for transport.”

The other EMT squeezed a gurney into the room. Obviously experienced, they were well synchronized as they transferred Josh’s floppy body out of his bed. Jenn noticed the stain on the navy-blue comforter. The matching washcloths and towels were in a heap on the sage berber carpet. Just a minute ago, she was going to clean it up. And now that didn’t matter at all.

Steve pulled gently on her arm, leading her out of the way. Rachel was right outside the door in the hallway, her blue eyes wide, and her white skin pale.

“Mom, what’s wrong with Josh? What happened?” Her voice was high and tight.

Jenn shook her head. “We don’t know. He’s going to the hospital. He’s unconscious. We’ll find out more soon.” She hugged her daughter and talked to her husband at the same time. “Who should be in the ambulance with him?”

“You go,” he replied. “Rachel and I will drive. Should I call Pastor James before we leave?”

Jenn nodded. “Sara, too—she can start a prayer chain. And let Lindsay and Mark know we won’t be there for dinner tonight. I can’t believe this is happening.”

The EMTs carried Josh down the curved stairs. Jenn and her family followed close behind. Jenn was so shaky with nerves that she leaned on the oak railing for support; her hands trembled as she grabbed her purse and cell phone. Jenn, Steve, and Rachel stood on the sidewalk watching the two men load Josh into the back of the ambulance; then both climbed in with him, put all the equipment around his body, and watched the monitors once again. The big one said something to his partner. The thin one nodded and took out a long plastic straw. He tipped Josh’s head back a bit and opened his mouth. Jenn watched him shove the tube down her baby’s throat. She clutched at Steve.

He put his arm around her. “They’re intubating him!” he exclaimed. “That’s not good.”

Her stomach dropped further. “Why are they doing that?”

“He’s really not breathing right,” Steve explained, his voice strained.

A chill went down Jenn’s spine. “Praise God we found him when we did,” she replied. Lord, Your will be done, not mine. Though she desperately hoped that the Lord’s plan included healing her son.

The bigger EMT climbed out after Josh was settled into the ambulance. He pointed to a seat for her. Steve squeezed Jenn’s hand good-bye. She stepped onto the high bumper, started to shift weight onto her leg but her foot slipped off because she was so shaky. After wiping her sweaty hands on her flowered skirt, she grabbed the handle hard, determined to join Josh. As she moved up and forward, she was grateful to feel Steve’s hands on her hips, steadying and supporting her. Once she was in the back, she crouched over to a small jump seat and buckled up. Josh lay totally still across from her. The thin EMT sat right by his side.

“Ready?” the driver shouted, and then the metal doors slammed shut with a loud clang.

Jenn looked for Rachel and Steve through the cloudy window, but they were gone. She suddenly felt scared and alone. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked over at her sick son.

He showed no awareness of the violations to his body. His head flopped a little with every bump. Jenn’s throat tightened reflexively at the tube coming out of his throat. It looked like it was choking him, though she knew it was doing just the opposite. The hiss of oxygen filled the ambulance. His arms were belted tight to his side. The black straps contrasted with the white sheet that covered his body. She wanted to touch him, to let him feel that he wasn’t alone, but he was too far away.

Jenn heard a steady, too-fast beep from the heart monitor. She glanced at the numbers on the machine. His blood pressure was a little higher now: eighty-six over fifty-two. His oxygen read ninety-nine. Her mind flitted through all the possible causes. She could think only of horrible reasons for him to be like this: meningitis, a seizure, a brain tumor, a stroke.

God is watching over him. I trust in the Lord. God is watching over him. I trust in the Lord, Jenn intoned to herself over and over again on the long ride to Castro Valley.

***

At the hospital, Josh was pulled out in a rush. No one said anything to Jenn. She was uncertain what she should do but ran after the gurney as it was wheeled through the automatic sliding glass doors and into an ER bay. The paramedics spoke to the medical staff while she stood by.

A person in light-blue scrubs walked up to her with a clipboard in his hand. “You’re the mother? Does he have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

Jenn shook her head silently. Her throat was tight.

He looked up from his clipboard and repeated the question, “Does he have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

Jenn cleared her throat. “Sorry.” Of course he hadn't seen her head shake. “No. Well, last night he threw up in the middle of the night. I heard him once just after midnight. I thought it was just a bug. When we got home from church there was vomit by his bed.”

He looked back at his clipboard and wrote something down with saying a word.

“Did you find an empty bottle near him?”

“No.” This time she was more prepared for that question.

“Does he have any history of drug or alcohol abuse?”

“No,” Jenn was emphatic.

He wrote again. “Is he depressed, or does he have a history of depression?”

“No.”

“Has he had a head injury lately? A fall or a blow to his head?”

“Not that I know of. He’s on the basketball team at Dublin High.”

The man finished writing and turned away. Jenn looked at Josh. He was half hidden behind the doctors and nurses and other medical staff attending to him. She watched, feeling helpless. Jenn wanted to tell them to be careful, to make sure they were doing the right thing, to think before they acted. But she just stood back, because they had done this many times before, while she had no idea what to do for her son except love him. And pray.

She caught snatches of words, some of which passed right by her while others caught in her brain like flies in a spiderweb: CBC, blood cultures, chest x-ray, head CT.

Staff came and went, and then suddenly the room cleared except for one middle-aged nurse. Josh looked vulnerable in the bed. The breathing tube taped to his cheek covered the lower part of his face. Wires connected his chest to nearby machines. His basketball camp T-shirt, the one he slept in, was cut down the middle. The yellow sleeves were still on his upper arms, but the rest of the shirt bunched sideways at his ribs. Jenn felt paralyzed. Was she allowed to touch him?

She looked at the nurse with a question in her eyes. The woman gestured to Jenn to come over.

“This side is easier—no IV,” the nurse said with a Filipino accent, pointing to Josh’s right. “You can touch his hand and the top of his head.”

Jenn came to Josh’s side and took his hand. It felt moist and flaccid—as if he weren’t even there. She bit her lip to stop from crying.

“You did good,” the nurse said kindly. “It’s not easy to be in this situation. A lot of the time we have to take the parents out. He’s stable. Now we watch. We’ll make adjustments as we need to. He’ll be transferred to the ICU soon.”

“What’s wrong with him? When will he wake up?” Jenn asked.

Gently the nurse replied, “I don’t know. We have tests to run. Dr. Aziz will explain more when your son is settled. He’s writing orders now.”

The woman’s words scared Jenn more than the ambulance ride. “Josh is going to be fine, right?”

“Dr. Aziz will tell you more.”

“But…what…”

The nurse shook her head. “There’s nothing more I can tell you. We don’t know what’s causing him to be unresponsive, so we can’t predict. We’ll know more in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I’m sorry I don’t have answers, but I’ll take good care of him—I promise. We all will. We’re good nurses at this hospital.”

Jenn felt light-headed like she might faint. She grabbed the bed rail, leaned against the bed for support, and said a prayer. Lord God, I trust in Your wisdom and love. I give Josh over to You. I know You’ll care for him because You love him…

Jenn’s prayer was interrupted by the vibration of her cell phone. It was a text from Steve: Update please.

Jenn looked at the nurse. “It’s my husband. He wants to know how Josh is doing. What do I say?”

“Tell him the truth. Your son is stable. That’s good. You can join him in the waiting room, if you like.”

“No. I’m not leaving Josh.” Jenn was certain. “Steve will understand. Can I call him?”

The nurse shook her head, “Sorry. No cell phones in here, but you can text.”

Jenn sighed. She hated texting, but she didn’t want to leave Steve hanging. She slowly pressed the numbers on her keypad—4-4, 3-3, space…—over and over until she typed out, he is stable. pray. And she hit send.

***

The staff sent Jenn away while Josh was being transferred to the intensive-care unit. Joining Rachel and Steve in hard plastic chairs in the waiting room, she answered her husband’s and daughter’s questions as unsatisfactorily as the nurse had answered hers. She’d calmed some since she found Josh, but her body was still on alert, like the slightest thing would get her heart racing again.

Fidgety, she pulled out her phone as a distraction. There were three missed calls and a new text message. Lindsay had called twice and her mom once. She pressed the button to see the unread text from Lindsay: Can I bring u dinner?

That’s so sweet, Jenn thought. Lindsay was one of Jenn’s greatest blessings. They’d been best friends since Sara and Rebeccah, Lindsay’s eldest child, were in the church nursery together. Their kids were like cousins, and their families ate together most Sunday nights.

Jenn said to her husband, “Lin’s offering to bring us dinner. What should I say?”

Steve shook his head. “I love them, but I can’t handle seeing anyone right now, even them. Tell her thanks. One of us can run out for something later. Or get food from the cafeteria.”

Jenn texted Lindsay back, but she wasn’t ready to talk to her mom. She would be full of questions Jenn couldn’t answer and want reassurance that Jenn couldn’t offer. Instead Jenn attempted to center herself in prayer, to be an example of faith to her daughter, and to find a place of comfort. But really she just ached to be at Josh’s side. Her mind kept flitting to images of him: vomit pooled by his mouth in bed, his floppy head jostling as they put him in the ambulance, a tube sliding down his throat. She stood up. Rachel looked up at her, her brow arranged in a question.

“I just have to move,” Jenn explained. “I won’t go far.” She paced in the waiting area while Rachel and Steve flipped through old magazines. She watched the clock intently, but it never seemed to changed. Her phone rang—Sara.

“How is he? Do they know what’s wrong with him?” their eldest child asked in a rush, her voice high and tight.

“He’s stable enough to be moved to the ICU. We’re waiting for test results.”

“I want to come to the hospital now. I’ll take BART to Castro Valley. Dad said to ask you.”

“And miss class tomorrow?” Jenn asked.

“I don’t care about school!” Sara declared. “Part of why I picked Cal was so I could be home for the important things. It matters that I’m there, too.”

Jenn was touched by the passion in Sara’s voice. “You know he’s unconscious. He won’t even know you’re here.”

“I’ll know.”

Jenn’s throat tightened up. She’d be grateful to have Sara here. “OK,” she agreed. “Call us when you get to the station. One of us will come.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you. Tell Josh I love him—even if he’s asleep.” Jenn heard the emotion in her daughter’s voice.

“I will. Love you, too.”

She walked over to Steve and Rachel. “Sara’s on her way.”

Jenn looked at the clock again. It had been forty minutes since she left Josh. They said the transfer would take half an hour. Her anxiety revved up with each passing second.

Jenn said to Steve, “This is taking too long. What if something’s wrong?”

Steve took her hand and pulled her down to the chair next to him. “Jenn, we’re all scared for him, but leaping to conclusions based on nothing is pointless.”

“It’s just where my mind keeps going. I feel so much better when I’m with him.”

“Let them do their jobs,” Steve reminded her.

“Family of Josh Henderson,” a nurse called from the desk.

Jenn rushed to the station with Steve and Rachel trailing behind. “We’re here.”

“Only two at a time in the ICU,” the nurse explained. “You can trade off.”

Jenn was crushed. “Can we just have a few minutes with him as a family? Just in case, you know…” She couldn’t go on. Her eyes welled up. Steve put an arm around her. “I’m sorry…” Jenn began.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said the nurse. “No one wants to be here.”

Jenn gave a shaky nod. The nurse explained, “I’ll let the three of you go back. They’ll probably kick one of you out. Be calm and really quiet, and you might get ten minutes together.”

“God bless you. Thank you,” Jenn said.

“He’s in bed six,” the nurse told them.

“Thank you very much,” Steve said as they were buzzed through.

Jenn took Rachel’s hand as they walked down a short, bright hallway. She hated to be so emotional in front of her daughter, but it was hard to be a strong and confident mom in this situation. The ICU was an open room with beds coming from the wall and curtains separating them. Josh lay in the third bed to the right. His color looked better, but he seemed just as small and vulnerable as he did in the emergency room.

A young white nurse with bleached-blond hair introduced herself. “I’m Jessica. I’ll be with Josh until this evening.”

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked.

“He’s stable. So far, so good,” the nurse replied. “Were you told he’s only supposed to have two people at the bedside in the ICU?”

Jenn’s spirits sank. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “We want to say a family prayer over him,” she pleaded. “Then we’ll go. Well, some of us will go.”

The nurse acquiesced. “OK. Five minutes?”

Jenn nodded. She smiled at Rachel and gave a thumbs-up. Her youngest daughter’s eyes were red and puffy. When had she started crying? Jenn hugged her close and murmured soothing words into her hair. “He’s going to be OK. I have faith…in God and in the doctors.”

“Thank Jesus we came home when we did,” Jenn said to both Steve and Rachel. “Lord Jesus is looking out for Josh, for all of us. Who knows what would’ve happened if we had stayed out longer.”

“Is…Is…I’m so scared,” Rachel said. “How could this just happen with no warning? What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know, honey,” Jenn said, pushing aside her worst thoughts. She wanted to offer some comfort to her daughter, so she explained, “The doctors will know more soon.”

Just then a middle-aged man with dark complexion, hair, and eyes walked up. “I’m Dr. Aziz. I’d like to update you." He looked at Rachel. “Can we speak in private?” The question scared Jenn.

The doctor led them to the other side of the curtain, giving them a small veneer of privacy.

“What’s wrong with Josh?” Steve questioned.

“We don’t yet know what’s causing your son’s condition,” Dr. Aziz explained. “But we’ve stabilized him. We pumped his stomach and drew blood. The labs should have results soon. He’s getting fluids to increase his blood pressure and keep him hydrated. We’ll know more in a few hours. Has he been sick?”

“He threw up last night. That’s the first we knew of anything,” Jenn replied.

Dr. Aziz asked, “Does he have a history of drug abuse?”

“No!” Jenn replied. “Why do you people keep asking me that? He’s Christian. He does not use drugs.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We want to rule everything out. Most of the time, with a presentation like this, it’s an intentional or unintentional drug overdose,” the doctor said. “I’m not saying that’s the situation with your son, but we haven’t ruled it out. We’re looking into infection, medication, and diseases or disorders. When I have more answers, I’ll find you. You don’t believe he has a concussion or has had trauma to the head recently?”

Steve shook his head.

“Did you give the nurse your phone number? For updates,” Dr. Aziz asked.

“If you have something to tell us, you can find us in here,” Jenn said more sharply than she meant to. “One of us will be right by our son’s side the entire time he’s here.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Steve interjected evenly.

“Yes, thank you.” Jenn sighed. “Sorry I’m so upset.”

“This is a difficult situation,” the doctor said calmly. “I’m on until eight o’clock tonight. Hopefully I’ll be back with some results before I leave.”

The family gathered around Josh, and Steve spoke aloud a prayer asking for wisdom for the doctors, healing for his son, and faith for his family. Jenn concentrated intently. Then Steve took Rachel back out to the waiting room.

***

A nurse brought a chair by the hospital bed for Jenn, a very welcome gesture of support. The constant beep of the monitor was oddly comforting. Jenn stared at it as if it were a video game. She prayed for Josh’s pulse to slow down and his blood pressure to go up. It wasn’t much, but she knew to ask for that. She startled whenever the blood-pressure cuff filled up without warning. In contrast, Josh didn’t notice it at all. He lay there oblivious to his surroundings, with an IV in his arm and a tube of oxygen down his throat.

Jenn held Josh’s hand and sang quietly into his ear. She started with the lullabies she had sung to him as a baby and then moved on to his favorite church hymns. When she got hoarse from singing, she sat up and studied his face. It had changed so much. All traces of baby fat were gone. His dark lashes and eyebrows were thick and healthy. Stubble covered his skin. She didn’t realize he needed to shave every day. When did that happen? Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

Steve stood over her. “We got some dinner when we picked up Sara. Rachel has a burrito for you. You sit with her and eat; Sara can come in when you go out.”

“Can you just bring it to me?” Jenn asked.

“Rachel needs a little time with you, and Sara wants to see Josh,” Steve countered.

Jenn was so focused on Josh that she was being selfish. She shook her head. “Of course,” she said as she stood up. “We’re going to get through this, right?”

“Of course we are,” Steve replied. “And so is he.”

She reached for Steve’s arm. “Are you sure? Do you know deep down that God does not want him home yet?”

“I’m sure of it. I feel it in my bones. Josh has something he’s called to do on earth. He hasn’t done it yet, so it’s not his time to go home.”

Steve’s words were a balm to her soul. His certainty filled her with confidence. Jenn nodded and gave Steve a long hug. Then she forced herself to break away to find her daughters.

***

When Jenn walked through the double doors into the waiting room, Sara was standing right there. Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she didn’t have any makeup on. She looked close to tears. Jenn opened her arms wide, and Sara melted against her body. After a few breaths, Sara broke away.

“How’s he doing?” her oldest daughter asked.

“He doesn’t look too bad, if you ignore the tube coming out of his mouth,” Jenn explained.

“OK. I’ll just look at his gorgeous hair,” Sara joked weakly, and she was buzzed through.

Jenn looked around the harshly lit waiting room for her third child. Rachel sat alone, flipping through a magazine on her lap, unconsciously picking at the skin on her thumb. Jenn felt a welling up of sympathy for her youngest. This situation was hard enough for her to deal with as an adult. It had to be overwhelming to a fourteen-year-old.

“What’d you get me?” Jenn asked casually as she sat down.

Rachel looked up, startled. “Oh…hi, Mom. Chorizo with everything. We know what you like.”

Jenn smiled and sat down. She took out the shiny, aluminum-wrapped meal. It was warm and substantial in her hand. She hadn’t realized the comfort one could get from a burrito.

“How’s Josh?” Rachel asked, hope and fear in her voice.

“Same,” Jenn replied. “Stable. Whatcha reading?”

“National Geographic.” Rachel turned the magazine so Jenn could see the spread of marine animals. Images of penguins, sperm whales, and dolphins filled the pages. Rachel pointed to a page. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Jenn nodded with a smile. “You’ve loved penguins since that trip to the Monterey Aquarium when you were four.”

“What’s not to love? They’re cute, and they waddle, and they cuddle with each other. They’re the best animals ever.”

“It’s been too long since we’ve gone to the aquarium…Maybe we could go over Easter break.”

Rachel perked up. “Really?”

“No promises, but…”

Rachel asked, “Josh’ll be fine by then, right?”

Though Jenn had her fears, she didn’t share them with her daughter. “There’s no reason to think he won’t be. He’s in the Lord’s hands. Just keep on praying for him.”

Rachel leaned her head against Jenn and went back to the magazine. Despite the pit in her stomach Jenn ate the burrito. She wanted to say the perfect words to her daughter, to reassure her that their lives were not turned upside down irrevocably, but she couldn’t offer Rachel something she wasn’t certain of herself. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t imagine an innocuous explanation for Josh’s illness. While she desperately hoped he could be cured with an antibiotic or some simple medicine, her mind kept flitting to a brain tumor. She knew it was dramatic, but it was her biggest fear.

After eating most of her dinner, Jenn texted Sara to trade back. When she got to Josh’s bedside, Steve’s brow was furrowed. Jenn’s heart skipped a beat.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “What happened?”

“Dr. Aziz stopped by before his shift ended,” Steve explained. “None of the tests show anything that would cause this.”

“That’s bad?” asked Jenn.

Steve exhaled deeply. “He says this profile is entirely consistent with an overdose of sleeping pills.”

“That can’t be it; you know that, right?” Jenn insisted. “There’s no reason for him to take sleeping pills. Where would he get them?”

“I don’t know.” Steve changed the subject. “It’s late. Rachel needs to get home. Do you want to stay here tonight or be with the girls?”

“I can’t bear to leave him. Can I please be the one to stay? I’ll call you right away if there’s a change,” Jenn promised. “Is that OK with you?”

“That’s fine.” Steve rubbed his head. Jenn felt a rush of gratitude for her husband.

“Rachel asked me if she has to go to school tomorrow. I don't think so. What about you?” Jenn asked.

“No,” Steve answered. “It’s one day of ninth grade. I doubt she could concentrate anyway.”

Jenn said, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me neither,” Steve agreed. “Do you want me to bring you back some other clothes for the night?”

Jenn looked at her church outfit: flowered sheath, hose, and blue flats. She wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t matter. She pulled the small, gold hoops off her ears and slipped the gold bangles from her wrist. She shook her head. “I’ll be fine; just take these.”

Steve kissed his son’s forehead. Then he put his hand over Josh’s brown hair and stared down at him. Tenderness welled up in Jenn. Steve stepped away, his eyes moist, gave her a long hug good-bye, and left.

Once again she was alone with Josh and the sound of beeping machines. Jenn was finally ready to contact the outside world. She dialed her childhood number in Orange County. The Southern California suburb she grew up in had no defined urban center except, perhaps, for Disneyland. In sharp contrast to her current home in the San Francisco Bay Area, Orange County was a center of conservative political and religious values. Jenn had made peace with being a conservative in a liberal bastion, and there was a lot she preferred about the Bay Area, including the weather, the food, and the traffic. On the third ring, her mother picked up.

“What’s wrong? Sara asked me to pray for Josh, but she didn’t say more than that.” Her mom sounded as worried as Jenn had expected.

At the sound of her voice, Jenn eyes welled up. “Oh, Mom. Josh was passed out when we got home from church. I’m at the hospital with him.”

“Is he OK?”

“They don’t know what it is,” Jenn explained. “He’s still unconscious.”

“Josh is sick? Really sick?”

Jenn nodded even though her mom couldn’t see her. “The doctors are running tests. We should have answers in a few hours. I don’t want to worry you, but I know you’d want to start praying for him.”

“Oh, honey, of course. I’m so sorry. For you and for our Joshy. The prayer chain has already been started.”

Jenn felt a sweet comfort from her mother’s words. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot."

“What’s his doctor’s name? We’ll include him in our prayers.”

“Dr. Aziz. At least for now. A new one will come on soon.”

“That’s not a Christian name, is it?”

“No, Mom. But he seems like a fine doctor.” Her mom’s subtle bias against immigrants always rubbed Jenn the wrong way. Jenn chalked it up to age, but it was hard to hear and even harder to know how to respond.

“We’ll pray for the Lord to guide all his doctors to find what’s wrong with Josh and for Josh to be strong in mind, body, and spirit. Josh knows the Lord’s love so deeply. I know he’s being held by Jesus right—”

Jenn’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen. It was her home number.

“Mom, I’m getting a call from Steve or one of the girls. I have to go. I’ll let you know when we learn more. I love you. And tell Dad I love him.”

“Will do, honey. And don’t you worry. God’s going to fix Josh right up.”

Jenn accepted the other call.

Steve’s voice came through: “It’s me.”

“There’s no change,” Jenn said.

“I searched Josh’s bedroom,” Steve explained.

“Why did you do that?” Jenn asked, upset though she didn’t know why.

Steve said, “I had to be certain. Are you sitting down? This isn’t good.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I didn’t find anything in his room, so I searched all the trash cans. I found an empty bottle of Ambien in the garbage outside.”

A hot wave passed through Jenn. “Dear Lord! Where could he have gotten that? What doctor would give a sixteen-year-old Ambien without permission?”

“It wasn’t made out to him,” Steve explained gently. “It’s yours.”

Jenn’s stomach lurched. “Mine?”

“The bottle was empty. Do you remember how many were left in it?”

Her brain buzzed. It was hard to think. “From our trip to France last summer? For the flight?”

“Jenn,” Steve pushed her, “how many pills were in the bottle?”

“Most of them. I only took three: one for each flight and one to sleep the night we got there. How many were in the prescription?”

Steve paused and then replied, “It says thirty.”

Adrenaline shot through her body, and she started to shake. “Josh took twenty-seven sleeping pills?”

“You have to tell the staff right away,” Steve instructed.

“Why would our son do that?” Jenn questioned her husband. “Why would our Josh hurt himself?” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

Has there been any situation that challenged your core beliefs? How did you respond?

Is there anything you care so much about that you might join a pro- test or write a letter to the editor?

Did you identify more with Jenn, Josh, or some other character? Why?

Who was your favorite character?

Did your feelings about Jenn change throughout the story? In what ways?

Jenn’s physical location changes in the story, starting from her chair and ending on a public street. What are other examples of that change, and how does that add to the story?

Does this story parallel your life in any way? What did it feel like to read about this situation?

Living Right explores a major controversy in our society. In what ways does this book expand your understanding of the issues?

In Living Right, Laila Ibrahim explores the theme of children grow- ing up to be different than their parents expected. Did she do it in a way that makes this a universal story of parenting adolescents?

Did you find yourself especially angry, sad, or hopeful in any scenes?

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