A Portrait of Obedience

By Sherry Wynne Tucker and Linda K. Strohecker

What does it look like when someone feels called to do something that doesn’t make sense? It depends on who you ask. To the one doing it, it seems like the only choice. To those looking on from the outside, it may look admirable, a little on the crazy side or bordering on insanity.

This is the true story of one couple who knew that calling as they became unwittingly involved in the life of a stranger, a sweet old man named George who landed on their porch in the midst of a heart attack. Despite any real plan, Linda and Bobby answered a gentle nudge from God. As they surrendered, God perfectly orchestrated everything, allowing them all to receive a lifetime of living and loving in just eight months.

When it was all over, they were unable to imagine anything more beautiful than the lifelong blessings they received. And then one last unexpected blessing came to light, which God used to open the eyes of those looking on from the outside.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781644682517

Book preview

Acknowledgments

Having the opportunity to write this book has been an amazing gift. I’ve never worked harder, yet loved anything more. Working with Linda has been a blessing. Thank you, Linda, for trusting me with your story.

Through hundreds of conversations with Linda, as well as many pages of bullet points and notes she provided, we created this book chapter by chapter. The raw information she provided allowed me to put it together in a way that honored the journey of George’s final years and Linda’s obedience during that time. Each step of the way we paid attention, our desire being to make sure the words were those that God wanted to be written. We would never have been able to write these words in this particular way on our own. And if we had, God would never have blessed them. I can’t speak for Linda, but I learned more about obedience writing this book than at any other time in my life!

Many thanks go out to the cheerleaders I had as the book was written: Our first reader Ann Sammy Brown—your keen eye and input was invaluable! My volunteer bosses at Hospice of the Chesapeake, Renate, Lydia, and Cheryl—your encouragement in so many areas is appreciated. My ladies at BSF—thank you for your prayers. My mom and sisters—Judy, Debby, Rosie, and Susie—your love, support, and excitement meant more than I can say.

My gratitude to my son, Ryan, for his joy as he watched me go for something I’d always wanted to do. Thank you for the last paragraph of Chapter 46. Your insight was spot on! Lucia, I’m blessed to call you my daughter-in-law. Thank you for your love and support throughout this journey. My husband, Joe, put up with more than a year’s worth of dinners cobbled together at the last minute and finding my nose stuck in my laptop, writing, at odd hours of the day and night. Thank you for patiently understanding how important this was to me.

Finally, I thank God for blessing me with an opportunity to do something I’d always dreamed about and growing me so much in the process. His hand was in this from beginning to end.

—Sherry Tucker

Forrest Gump was right. Life is like a box of chocolates—you never know what you’re going to get on any given day. Sherry and I were just doing what we’d done a dozen times before, sitting at an outdoor restaurant on the water, having dinner with our husbands. As the evening went on, our conversation evolved from mere chatter to Sherry saying, When I was ten, I told my mother that I wanted to write a book someday.

Well, I ran with that saying, I have a story for you. It’s about a beautiful old man named George. I explained how important this story was to me and my family and how I would only want someone I completely trust to write it. I could tell this sparked her interest. She was razor focused on getting the details of why this story was so important to me. By the end of the day, we were on a mission to write this story.

Sherry came over to my house. I opened my file drawer and pulled out pages and pages of bullet points, paragraphs of facts, and information on George that had been sitting there, hidden away, for nearly twenty years. After reading through everything, she looked up and said, I completely understand your hesitation and why this is so dear to your heart. You can trust me with this story.

I cannot thank her enough for the amount of energy she put into finding out what I wanted readers to walk away from this book feeling. She was so careful to show me every chapter to make sure I was comfortable with it. She did an amazing job of telling my family’s story, and I cannot thank her enough. What a God given gift she has!

I’m thankful for her husband and family for giving her the freedom to lock herself away for a year to write this book. I’m so very thankful for my husband, Bobby, for being one of the most gentle spirited laid back human beings I’ve ever known. From the day George walked into our lives to the day the book was finished, he has been willing to graciously roll with whatever chocolate I picked out of the box that day. He is and will always be a true blessing to me.

I would like to thank Covenant Books for guiding us through this process. They helped us every step of the way.

I would also like to thank the rest of my family and friends for their constant support and encouragement in writing this book. None of this would have, or could have, been accomplished without God’s blessing.

—Linda Strohecker

Prologue

The air felt fresh, hopeful. Spring was popping its head up to take a peek. April in Maryland could be snow one day and in the seventies the next. It wasn’t uncommon to feel all four seasons vying for position in any given week. The gentleness of the day was like a balm to her soul. Linda sat at the end of the pier and took in the view of the water that would never grow old. Her heart was so heavy, the loss nearly pulling her under. The busyness of the past several days had kept her mind occupied, curse and blessing all rolled up together. Her mind was finally quieted now.

She recalled a saying she once heard, B-U-S-Y, being under Satan’s yoke. Truer words were never spoken, but being busy was not to be helped. There had been no one else…no family, no relatives. No one. Her heart clenched at how incredibly sad to have a life filled with just that. No one. But recalling the everyday joys that were there in the last eight months eased the sadness a little. Family, laughter, connection, birthdays, and holidays filled with all the things most people took for granted, dreaded even, that brightened and blessed where there had been nothing but a void, solitary loneliness, and an endless string of days, weeks, months and years of the same nothingness.

Her gaze naturally drifted up to the clouds in the impossibly blue sky. Since she was a child, she made up a game of creating pictures and stories from the cloud formations. Sometimes she privately felt that God provided these varied palettes of fluffy whiteness just for her, her own private artistic escape. But this is where the creative genius stopped. She just wasn’t in that line when He was handing out gifts, but George was. The beauty of what his eyes saw and his hand created had sometimes taken the breath right out of her. She couldn’t create art, but she was most certainly affected by it.

The truest gift of any art was being able to see, just for a moment, through the eyes of the artist. They saw things that others didn’t. What had he seen on that last night? When he was finished, he was completely at peace and satisfied with what he had created, but no one would ever see it, a final nod to artist privacy. If she squinted her eyes at the slow moving clouds, she could almost imagine the finished piece. The long hair draped just so over the shoulder, the lines of the nose, the strong jaw, and just a hint of a smile, slightly friendlier than the Mona Lisa…and as quickly as the image was there, it was gone, changing shape to create something entirely new.

The breeze blew through her hair, bringing her back to reality and remembering that jolting moment when her mind was finally able to comprehend the enormity of what he’d done, without any awareness on her part, despite how close they’d been for the last year. She was literally gobsmacked. She now knew what it felt like to have her brain short out. It was completely unexpected. She’d done nothing to deserve it—nothing. Wouldn’t anyone have done what she had? She’d done it without a thought and felt that nudge from God like she had countless times before.

Her gaze moved to the cottage two doors down that shared the same view as her home, but from a slightly different vantage point. How many times had she shared that view with him? Talking, sharing, laughing, coaxing, encouraging, and at the end, caring. So many different emotions pulled at her as the memories came—joy, pain, celebration, loneliness, guilt, acceptance, and now, loss. The memories continued in a torrent as tears ran unheeded down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for him, Lord, please take care of him. My heart aches. I wasn’t ready for him to leave. And just like always, she began to feel the comfort that came slowly. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand it.

Chapter 1

1996

How can we have so much stuff? Linda moaned, straightened up, pulled her sweaty brown hair out of her face, and clipped back the top. Hands on her slim hips, she looked around at the sea of boxes that contained the entire physical contents of their life, aside from furniture, strewn about the bottom floor of the home they’d spent the last couple of years building. Just the thought of the monumental task of unpacking and organizing everything made her tired. Why they chose July 4 to move in was anybody’s guess. The holiday was sweltering, the humidity oppressive. Often, it was like walking through split pea soup. Nothing new there. Thank God for the air-conditioning.

She closed her eyes and took a calming breath. One box at a time, that’s all I have to do. And Bobby would help. She smiled as she heard him outside with the kids, Tara and Brandon. As usual, he was fooling around, making everything fun. They adored him. That was Bobby. It was one of the things she loved most about him. Her husband could even make moving fun.

She decided to begin with the kitchen. Teenagers ate more than she ever thought possible. At thirteen, Brandon ate enough to feed a small city. Tara was an active fifteen-year-old. Even though Bobby was tall and thin like she was, he had a pretty healthy appetite as well. No doubt they’d come in sometime in the next couple of hours, wanting something substantial to refuel for the hours of work ahead. She loved spoiling her family with all the Greek specialties she learned from her mother and her yiayia. It was almost a matter of pride to carry on the tradition of these recipes that were passed on from generation to generation in Greek families, hers included. She’d prepared something earlier in the week for them all to enjoy together. Meals were some of her favorite times with her family.

As Linda busied herself with putting away dishes, utensils, pots, pans, and all the million things in a kitchen, she became lost in thought, reflecting on the events of the last few years. How many hours had she and Bobby spent dreaming and designing their waterfront home? It was a perfect blend of her keen eye and his need for comfort. Selling their home in Bowie hadn’t broken her heart the way she feared it would. They’d made so many cherished memories with Tara and Brandon in that home, but a new home brought opportunities to make new memories. And she couldn’t wait.

Before she went to grab another box, she took the pastitsio from the refrigerator. The surprising sparkle of nutmeg and cinnamon paired with the creamy comfort of pasta, ground meat, and cheese never failed to work its magic on her hungry family. She slipped it into her brand-spanking new oven and set the temperature. In three months, the oven would look like it should, proudly displaying evidence of feeding the ones she loved. A spill here, grease splatter there, and remnants of the meals that brought them all together around her table, laughing, teasing, sharing, and loving.

So lost in her thoughts, she’d already unpacked six boxes. She reached for the seventh marked kitchen and quickly stripped off the tape from the top. Her and Bobby’s wedding pictures peered out at her, bringing a quick smile because she loved the memories of that day and also because she couldn’t figure out how she managed to mislabel the box.

Between selling their home and moving into a rental while their home was being built, a level of crazy had existed solely to limit the amount of packing, unpacking, repacking, and unpacking once again. Boxes had been saved to reuse. They’d lived without any number of unnecessary extras, that occasionally weren’t so unnecessary, just to avoid unpacking them. All the craziness was absolutely worth being in their new home on this small but beautiful piece of waterfront property on South Creek.

She lifted out each picture, reliving the day in her mind and sending up perhaps the millionth, Thanks, God. Bobby is such a gift. I don’t know what I did to deserve him.

Chapter 2

The memories of that perfect day flooded back…

Linda thought this day would never arrive. It was her wedding day! Her heart was so filled with joy that it literally bubbled over, causing her eyes to shine and a radiant smile to take up permanent residence on her glowing face. Bobby absolutely made her heart sing with joy, thanksgiving, and gratitude to God. She felt like she hit the marital lottery and won the grand prize!

She peeked out of her window yet again. Snow. Lots of it. Waiting until spring or summer was just too long for either of them so a February wedding it would be. It was a white wedding in every way! They’d probably joke about it when they were old and gray.

Their whole relationship, up to this point, had been an absolute whirlwind. Their meeting was pure happenstance. Although Linda would argue that fact, given half a chance, she didn’t believe in accidents. They met in Ocean City, Maryland, through mutual friends one weekend at the beach.

*****

Salt water, sand, and sun had been Linda’s entire agenda. She desperately needed some time to chill and relax. She loved her job as a medical assistant in a primary care doctor’s office. She enjoyed the fast pace, the patients she’d come to know and truly care about, and the group of doctors who taught her so much that they’d taken to calling her Nurse Linda. It could also get crazy, hectic, and stressful so she and her friend Carol decided to head to the beach on a Friday in early August for some much needed laziness in the sun. After a long day on the beach, alternately soaking up the hot sun and cooling off in the ocean waves, the girls decided to head back to their room to plan for the evening.

I’m starving, Linda announced.

Carol replied, Yeah, I could eat something. Hey, before we left home, Jed mentioned he’s staying the weekend with a guy he knows who has an apartment down here. He originally lived in Annapolis but moved here last year because of his job. He works with his family’s company and has a crew here working construction. Want to check it out after we eat?

She’d never disappoint Carol, and Jed was a really nice guy. Sure, sounds like fun! But we’re coming back to our room tonight.

The girls chatted nonstop on the way back, so comfortable in their longtime friendship. They knew and loved each other for exactly who they were. An hour later, after dodging each other in a well-practiced routine in their minuscule motel bathroom, the girls were rested, refreshed, showered, and dressed, ready to enjoy a fun evening. They climbed into their car, having settled on Italian for dinner at a local pizza restaurant that touted having The best pizza on the beach! After a long hot day on the beach, gooey, cheesy pizza and an ice-cold soda sounded like heaven.

Oh, it smells so good in here! Linda loved Italian food—the smell, the comfort of the pasta and bread, and the spice and the garlic. Next to the familiar Greek dishes her family often ate, Italian was her next favorite food.

Carol agreed, closing her eyes and enjoying the irresistible aromas that reminded her how long ago their late breakfast had been. Thankfully, this restaurant had seemingly unending tables and booths to accommodate the starving masses that descended on Ocean City from Memorial Day through Labor Day. They were taken to a small booth off to the side that was a bit quieter, away from several families with sunburned, tired, and fussy children who had their fill for the day. The waitress was quick to take their drink orders and walk them through the specials for the evening. The girls chose their pizza toppings quickly and were ready when their server arrived a few minutes later with their drinks.

After taking a long sip of her fizzy cold soda, Linda asked, So who is going to be at this apartment? Anyone we know?

Well, Jed, for sure, knows the guy who lives there. Other than that, I don’t know. But it will be fun. We’ll probably know a few other people, and if we don’t, then we can meet new people! It’s a win-win! Carol said, giving Linda her most convincing smile.

Linda smiled back, knowing it would be fun. She always had fun with Carol. Their pizza mercifully arrived just then. They both grabbed a slice, enjoying the cheesy, saucy goodness that topped the softest, most delicious homemade crust imaginable. Totally worth the billion calories they were ingesting! Conversation was limited until they’d both had their fill.

Definitely the best pizza on the beach, Linda commented, holding her stomach.

"No doubt. Wow! We ate the entire thing!"

I know! Life doesn’t get much better, Linda replied with a grin.

They paid