DISCOVERING EVE: ENGLISH TRANSLATION OF A ROMANIAN CHRISTIAN NOVEL

By MIHAELA GHEORGHE

A Christian novel with a psychological element, Discovering Eve is inspired by a true story. Eve travels a complex path in search of her own femininity-her heart- crushed since childhood by a harsh, abusive home life. Only by finding faith in God is Eve able to find her true heart and herself.

Like the first Eve, some of us have lost our “Eden” and departed from God’s heart. The difficult road to healing our wounded subconscious is found only in the One who created our heart. The author’s desire is that every woman, at the end of her journey, will find her long-lost treasure -her own heart.

This captivating book reveals how and why so many women struggle to discover their true identity. In women’s hearts God has created a special beauty and power, which many have yet to understand. Discovering Eve is dedicated to all women who are looking for their identity as Daughters of the Most High, as well as those who want to free themselves from the destructive burdens of their past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781794775633

Book preview

DISCOVERING

EVE

Mihaela Gheorghe

Portland, Oregon 2021

Copyright  © 2021 – Mihaela Gheorghe

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

To request permission, contact the author at: [e-mail].

United States Copyright registration number: 1-10826794671

Original Romanian paperback edition in 2008 under title Regasirea Evei.

Original English translation edition in 2021

Edited by: Laura Davis, Portland, Oregon

Translated by: Ana Ionesi, Portland, Oregon

Published by Gatekeeper Press

2167 Stringtown Rd, Suite 109

Columbus, OH 43123-2989

www.GatekeeperPress.com

ISBN (paperback): (9781662917851)

The cover design, interior formatting, typesetting, and editorial work for this book are entirely the product of the author. Gatekeeper Press did not participate in and is not responsible for any aspect of these elements.

ISBN (EBook)

Dedication

I dedicate this novel to all the beautiful women who have been abused, hurt, misunderstood, abandoned, or humiliated. I also dedicate it to the teenage girls who may not have received the care and support they needed from close family members. Do not allow the path of destruction to steal your heart and your identity.

Instead, you can become transformed more than ever. You have overcome! Overcoming is all that matters for your future. May God bless all women.

Acknowledgments

I want to thank God first of all for creating me as a beautiful woman. I am a wonderful creature in which He has invested something of great value—the heart of a woman. This pearl can sometimes be lost or hidden under multiple layers of guilt, pain, loneliness, abandonment, underappreciation and fear. The pearl of our female heart may be brutally trampled upon by others, or maybe this pearl just needs to be revealed. God was always with me throughout my search and helped me understand the value of my priceless pearl, my woman's heart.

Sincere thanks and appreciation to the hundreds of women in Romania and overseas who allowed me to look into their hearts and accompany them on the long, often painful journey toward recovering their femininity. After you have navigated the labyrinth of femininity, in search of the pearl of your heart, you will be stronger and more beautiful than ever! I keep you all in my soul, among my most precious memories and feelings. You are the angels sent by God for me.

––Mihaele Gheorghe

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

Chapter  XV

Chapter 1

On her twentieth wedding anniversary (which her husband had forgotten, as usual), Daria felt completely overwhelmed with grief and hopelessness. After all these years, she felt trapped in her daily routine of                  fatigue, lack of purpose, an argumentative and indifferent husband, and many shattered dreams. What is the meaning of my life? Why am I in this marriage? What is the reason for my existence? The world could go on just as well without me. And mostly, what is God's plan for my life, and why do I feel so dull and empty? These questions tormented her until she finally burst into tears. In the dark house, she heard only the ticking of the wall clock, reminding her that nothing lasts forever.

~      ~      ~

Alicia slowly closed her book, placing the bookmark at the top of the page and closing her eyes. She rested in the armchair, pondering what she had just read. The house was quiet. All she could hear was the ticking clock in the hallway.

Just like in the book, she thought.

Sighing, she opened the book again. She was so much like the heroine in that novel––also searching––but searching for what, after all? She didn't know, but she had to find something. Something essential, something she couldn't go without. She felt trapped in a web from which she was trying so hard to escape. For years she had deluded herself, thinking this search was just a phase, or that she was just hypersensitive, as her husband often claimed. She struggled to suppress this longing for more in the depths of her being, this nameless, deep yearning. But something was clear: an essential part of her life was missing.

Practically speaking, Alicia had everything a woman could want: a wonderful family, two gorgeous children, and a profession she was simply in love with. Alicia's husband was a film director, and her mother-in-law was a plastic surgeon. Her family lived in an upper class neighborhood, and her house was beautifully decorated with classic Italian furniture and paintings, expensive silverware and dishes, and leatherbound books covering the walls from floor to ceiling.

Outwardly, everyone would say Alicia was a fulfilled woman. She had more than most people could dream of. As a successful psychologist, Alicia had also studied philosophy, hoping to find answers to her own questions. Why couldn’t she at least understand herself? She had completed her philosophy degree with high marks. In everyone else's eyes she seemed a strong, determined, brilliant woman who knew what to get out of life. Inside, however, the unrest continued.

I'm dealing with some depression. I have just delivered my second child, and I miss my office job. Once I get back to work, this depression will surely disappear.

Back at her clinic, Alicia resumed her daily routines as a counselor. Although she dedicated herself to her patients, deep inside her troubles continued. She was desperately searching and often found herself staring blankly, trying to define the source of her inner conflict. As a psychologist, she was trying to analyze herself, just as she did her patients. Following the thread of events, she thought back to try to discover the causes of her inner struggles.

Night after night, her mind spinning and battling insomnia, Alicia weighed everything she had and everything she wanted. And every time, she concluded that what she had was enough—for her life, for her family, for her daily existence. As an only child she had enjoyed a happy childhood and had never felt rejected, unloved or unsupported. She was an attractive woman with a brilliant mind and a sense of humor. She loved modern fashions and was always elegantly dressed in the latest style.

For weeks, Alicia had been feeling the waters in her soul grow murkier and ever more turbulent. During this time of self-examination, her birthday arrived. As usual, her husband had invited their upper-class, rich friends, and there was no shortage of her mother-in-law's friends––artists, painters, and famous poets. In the midst of the party, a gift for her was delivered by courier. She thought maybe this was another eccentric gift from her husband, who never missed an opportunity to show her how much he loved her. But no, it was a small package from overseas.

Alicia retreated to a corner of her house to open it. There was no return address on the package. Intrigued, she was eager to see who had sent it. Who but close friends could have remembered her birthday? They were all here, living in the same city and seeing each other quite often. Who else could have sent her a special gift? As she quickly unwrapped the package, a box of Merci chocolates––her favorite brand––appeared. But underneath was something else. It was a book.

Alicia picked it up to read the title: A Journey in Three. As her eyes skimmed over the author's name, a cry of astonishment escaped her. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her closest college friend, whom she had not heard from for years, had written this novel and sent it to her.

Alicia's heart began to beat faster. She sat on a nearby chair, turning the pages with trembling fingers, hardly believing what she had just received after all these years. Seeing her friend's picture on the back cover, it seemed that her face had not changed. There was the same piercing look, the same mysterious smile, and those blue-violet eyes that made you wonder what was hiding beyond them.

Alicia knew her friend well, having spent their college years, plus a few more, in each other’s company. All the wonderful memories of her friend came rushing back. Familiar emotions and a slight nostalgia tugged at her heart.

Eve . . . my friend and confidant in the discussions of our sleepless nights, the one on whose shoulder I could always cry, the one with whom I shared dreams, tears, and victories . . . You're back, you're back!

She squeezed the book to her chest and shed a few tears. She would have to wait for everyone to leave the house for the night, so she could sneak into her home office and read. That night Alicia was carried on waves of emotions: the joy of having found her dear friend after all these years; questions that rose from the depths of her being; and again, that hunger for something she could not define. Alicia believed with all her heart that, after reading this book, she would find an answer to at least some of the troubles and concerns in her heart. She had been pleasantly impressed by the book, but by the end was left with even more pressing, undefined desires in her heart.

Eve was a foreign language teacher and a remarkable writer. Shortly after graduation they had worked together at an association promoting famous artists. Eve was then a translator, and Alicia received a commission to bring together sociologists and psychologists for the human resources staff. Eve had repeatedly confessed her desire to write, but at the time it had not been possible. Alicia had encouraged her not to abandon this dream. She had wanted to help Eve so much! The precarious financial situation, her husband's poorly paid profession, a small child, and the lack of a house led Eve to bury this dream, and go overseas for a while. For the first year, they had kept in touch, but the letters arrived less and less frequently until they stopped altogether.

Alicia often thought of  Eve and  the frustrating conditions she had to endure in order to build her future. While Alicia lacked for nothing, yet she was filled with anxiety, Eve had given up all that was precious to her to help her family. In the photo on the book cover, as well as in the pages of the book, Eve seemed to overflow with serenity, confidence, and contentment. In the photo, Alicia could see not just a beautiful woman, but a special, pleasant woman with a unique charisma. There was more than beauty in that picture. It was an inner balance––something stable, as if Eve had found what she had been searching for. Eve was a woman at peace with herself, and something in her eyes said that anyone could find what she had found.

Once again Alicia opened the book to that paragraph and read it aloud. Her voice, though muffled by her tears, resounded in the silence of the stately house. The clock continued ticking.

That's right, she declared. Like Daria, the heroine, I often wonder about the meaning of life. What is my life worth? I feel like I'm going nowhere. Oh, what I wouldn't give to find the way to fulfillment!

The Way. She pondered on this word that stuck in her mind as if written in large, bold letters. It echoed in her ears like a persistent beat, though distant. The Way. Yes, there had to be a way out of this dizzying, exhausting labyrinth.

A few days earlier a friend had suggested that she change her routine to get a fresh perspective. Someone else gave her some books on meditation, and more books on yoga exercises. Alicia had browsed them, then discarded them in the wastepaper basket. The information in these books didn't deserve her attention.

Her mother-in-law told her every day to get out of the house in her spare time, and not to keep her eyes glued in the psychology books in her dark office, with the curtains blocking the sunlight. You need sunlight, good company, and a new dress, she said. Alicia's mother-in-law was an outgoing, lively character. She enjoyed beautiful art and travel, and was always surrounded by friends. Her optimism was actually helpful, so Alicia decided to take her mother-in-law's advice. One evening Alicia came home with a very expensive new dress and some assorted jewelry for her long, shiny black hair, arranged in a modern Spanish hairstyle. She welcomed compliments from her husband and from other friends who came to visit. The children happily hugged her, and her older daughter whispered in her ear, Mommy, how beautiful you are! You look like the princess in my stories.

Alicia smiled and went to her bedroom. Gazing in the big mirror on the wall, she didn't feel at all like a princess. Her life was far from being a fairy tale. Alicia dreamt of playing the role of a princess with a happy ending. So that night, she decided to find her way to a happy ending.

~      ~      ~

Early the following day the family found Alicia sleeping in her office chair, with Eve's book propped up in one hand. As soon as her husband fell asleep the night before, Alicia had snuck into the office to reread excerpts from the book. She had read and reread them, underlining and marking the pages as if trying to absorb the ideas into her being. On the desk above a stack of folders was a blank sheet of paper hastily torn from a notebook. One could see the ragged edges on which she had written in capital letters: THE WAY! It was circled, written in bold letters, and followed by a huge exclamation mark. Anyone seeing that piece of paper, the written word, and Alicia asleep in the armchair with the open book, would realize that Alicia had come to a finale, definite conclusion after a night of turmoil and sleeplessness. She had to find The Way!

If someone had asked her, she really would not have known how to define what she was looking for, or what she wanted. In recent weeks she had started browsing various books in the library, talked to family and friends and fellow psychologists at work, done all her tests, and had a general medical check-up. But there was no hormonal or chemical imbalance, no severe illness or unexplained stress. Alicia was healthy. The medical results reassured the family, so the results of the doctors' investigations meant one thing: she must look for the source of her inner conflict elsewhere. She must search for The Way.

The phone rang stridently through the house. Alicia woke up scared, and looked around. The time was a few minutes past nine o'clock in the morning.

How long have I slept? Good thing I'm free today, or I'd be late for work.

She picked up the phone to hear the doorman's voice announcing that a lady at the main entrance was asking to see her.

Let her come up, Alicia replied, thinking the visitor was one of her friends who usually came to take her shopping in a crazy rush for summer discounts.

She got up from her chair, tightened her silk robe around her waist, and headed for the door. The next second she heard the doorbell. Without looking through the door viewer, and quickly thinking up an excuse not to go shopping again, Alicia swung open the door. She froze in amazement. In the hall, smiling and mysterious as before, stood Eve herself! Alicia took a few long moments to find her voice, her heartbeat rising powerfully in her eardrums.

"Eve!" Alicia finally exclaimed. I can't believe it's you! I feel like I'm dreaming. Come in, please! This visit couldn't have been a better surprise!

The two friends hugged each other. After a six-year separation, Alicia was euphoric. She was trembling with emotions and delight. The women entered the family room and sat by the fireplace.

Too bad it's not winter, Eve said. We would have downloaded memories by the fireplace.

Alicia brought a tray with coffee and some cake she had made the day before. What brought you back to your hometown? Did you come alone? How's life abroad? Did you adapt quickly? What kind of work do you do? I've missed you so much! Why didn't you write me? Alicia’s questions kept tumbling out.

Eve smiled and rolled her gaze across the room she knew so well.

You’re just like you’ve always been, continued Alicia. You haven't changed a bit! Just as beautiful and peaceful as always. Let's talk about you. And about your book. Finally, your dream came true! It hurt me when I thought you had to give up your dreams and your talent to work among strangers. How did you manage to start writing? And all the way over there!

Eve placed her cup on the plate and looked fondly at Alicia. You got a haircut, she noted. It looks good on you. How are the kids and your husband?

The kids are at school today, and Robert is doing pre-selections for a new movie he will be making at studios in a nearby city this fall. He's very busy, and I barely get to see him on the weekends. Otherwise, everything is well––or almost.

Alicia spoke her last words in a low tone, as if she did not want to disturb Eve with her problems. In fact, she wasn't even going to burden her with her troubles––not now, after they had just met again after so many years. But Eve noticed the altered tone and the anxiety in her friend's eyes.

Alicia, what is it? Is something wrong? You shook your head a little, and your eyes are tearful. You're not sick, I hope.

No, nothing is wrong with me, said Alicia. I don't want to talk about myself.

Then there is something, Eve insisted. You know how we used to talk all night about everything––good and bad.

And in the morning, we'd go to classes half-asleep, Alicia continued, smiling wistfully at the memory of those good times.

Eve sat on the couch next to Alicia and took her friend’s hand. I will listen, she encouraged. Tell me what it is, or at least what you think you can share with me.

Alicia closed her eyes, and in her mind she pictured the page she had torn from her diary the night before, in which she had written that mysterious word: The Way.

You know, she began softly, "my life was much different from yours. Still, we've always gotten along very well. We had a lot in common, and we loved art, music, beauty. Life led us through joys and failures,