The Art of Christian Conflict

by Jana Gaskin (SC ‘25)

Alex smiled tightly as she turned away, her expression still stiff. Cara watched her leave, relieved at avoiding a fight, but terribly afraid that it had cost her something much greater. Something integral in their friendship had been knocked loose, and Cara was at a loss as to how to fix it.

Cara clenched and unclenched her hands on the steering wheel, lines of tension extending all the way up to her shoulders and jaw. Staring past the gentle rain on her windshield, Cara braked meticulously at a stop sign. The empty intersection stared back at her, watching as she tried and failed to calm her breathing.

In and out, in and out.

It wasn’t working.

The tears crept slowly down her face as Cara accepted defeat and put her car in park. She finally let herself crumple, tension melting into grief. The release of letting go sped up her tears, leaving wet stains on her jeans as she drew her knees into her chest. She sat there for a moment, sinking further into herself with each breath.

Where had it all gone wrong?

The gentle click of her hazard lights the only noise, Cara grew still. The flow of tears slowly stopped. Cara sat up and began to rub her eyes dry. The stiffness of her shoulders crept back in and she gritted her teeth.

It’s not just my fault, though. She made her own decisions.

Shaking her head, Cara put the car back in drive and slammed the gas.

Leaning on the sink, the monotonous tch-tch of her toothbrush the only sound, Alex stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes caught on the residual mascara streaks still lingering on her cheeks.

“What would you have done differently?” She asked her reflection.

After a pause, Alex sighed, pushed away from the mirror, and took a little lap around the bathroom, eyes fixed on her feet.

Tch-tch, tch-tch.

Alex looked up and hurried back to the mirror and exclaimed, “I know exactly what you should have said!”

She squared her shoulders in preparation.

“Alex, as soon as Cara started spouting Bible verses about why you and Michael shouldn’t have separated, you should have looked her in the eye and said, “I was brave enough to try, so don’t condescend to lecture me. I gave it a shot and yes, I acknowledge that it’s all falling apart, but who are you to point fingers? You’re too afraid, too self-protecting to even — ”

Alex turned away from the mirror. She could taste the bitterness on her tongue, the resentment built up over years of watching Cara lock everyone out. This clearly wasn’t the route to resolution.

Maybe she should just swallow it all and be the bigger person. That was the right thing, the Christian thing to do, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

“Mom, it’s not as serious as you think it is. Alex and I have fought before, it’s normal for cousins who are so close. I’m not even that bothered by it anymore. The whole “forgive as the Lord forgave you,” thing right? It’s fine.”

Cara tapped her toe impatiently, waiting both for her drink to be ready and for her mother to finish talking. One came much sooner than the other, with the call of “Americano for Cara!” interrupting the stream of concern emanating from her phone.

Shouldering through the early-morning crowd and out the door, Cara finally made an attempt to speak.

“Mom — hey, mom! I need you to understand that I’m okay, and that my ‘sensitive heart’ is doing just fine — will you let me finish my sentence? This will not cause a relapse, Alex and I don’t need to sit down and talk with the pastor, we just need everyone to stop talking about it and to move on.”

Walking towards her parked car, Cara entertained a few more minutes of her mom’s prodding, before interrupting:

“Okay, mom I have to go, I’m going to start driving now. I promise I’m fine — and don’t blame Alex for all of this, she probably didn’t mean to be hurtful, okay? I’ll see you next weekend — alright, okay, bye.”

The last three words were spoken in a blur to keep her mom from starting again.

Cara sighed and put her phone away. Climbing into her car, every emotion she had denied seemed to balloon inside of her. She gave in to the tears, crumpled shoulders accepting defeat.

Alex was stuck in her entryway, shoes on but laces untied, an excuse text half-written. Tonight was the first family dinner since the fight, and the two weeks of distance still felt insufficient. Michael had their daughter at his new place for the night, so it was her decision and hers alone to make.

Holding down the delete button, Alex began to write the message again.

I’m not feeling well, I think someone at church that I was volunteering with had the flu and gave it to me.

I have a bunch of errands and housework to catch up on.

I just need some alone time, especially since Aubrey is gone for the night.

I don’t want to cause any trouble.

Everyone is just going to be uncomfortable around me and Cara.

I don’t feel comfortable around me and Cara.

Standing up in frustration, Alex grabbed her keys and her jacket.

Just before dinner starts, Cara is sitting carefully on the sofa, Alex is watchfully orbiting the dining room. Both women are chatting brightly with other family members; just a shade of brittleness in their smiles. Concerned glances shoot across the room like ping-pong balls.

What a fun and loving family dinner, Cara is wishing she could say.

I should have just sent the text, Alex is realizing regretfully.

“Dinner’s ready!”

There’s a brief but uncomfortable shuffle for seats at the table, with everyone scrambling to rearrange when they realize Cara has an open seat next to her and Alex hasn’t found a safe seat elsewhere.

Alex is aware of Cara’s eyes on her once or twice throughout the meal. She is trying to meet them but can’t quite catch the moment.

Cara is avoiding Alex’s gaze as she hasn’t been able to find any softening in Alex’s expression, any return of her cousin’s characteristic openness.

“Anyone for dessert?”

Plates are cleared, ice cream is passed out. The rise and fall of conversation is punctuated by clinking spoons and bowls, all under the watchful eyes of the elephant in the room.

Standing by her car door, Cara dug through her purse, taunted by the sound of keys jangling but unable to find them. She paused, leaning against her car and brushing away the tears she can’t seem to stop.

I’ve never seen her so closed off, ever. Would it even help to talk about it now?

Exhaling sharply, Cara turned back to her purse, only to be startled by Alex, standing in silence a few feet away.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you cry in years.” Alex said tonelessly.

Cara shrugged, hesitant to say or do anything that would send Alex back into reticence.

Alex turned as if to leave, but stopped when Cara blurted out: “I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, okay. Um, it’s alright, I forgive you.”

Cara blinked in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

At the disbelief in Cara’s eyes, Alex sighed, “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m tired, I need to pick up Aubrey early tomorrow for soccer, and the last thing I want to do is hash through this with you. I’m okay, honestly, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, let’s just move on.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ll just have to trust me. I promise, everything between us is fine — just like it used to be.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, how many times do I need to repeat myself? It’s all forgotten, all in the past, I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“Okay, okay. I get it, I believe you.”

“Great, I’m glad we worked this out.” Alex started walking towards her car. “I have to go, but I’ll see you on Wednesday for our usual lunch?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Alex smiled tightly as she turned away, her expression still stiff. Cara watched her leave, relieved at avoiding a fight, but terribly afraid that it had cost her something much greater. Something integral in their friendship had been knocked loose, and Cara was at a loss as to how to fix it.