Detour: Destination Abiding Love

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Praise

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2

3

4

5

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11

Thank You

Detour: Destination Abiding Love

 

 

JoAnn Carter

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

 

Detour: Destination Abiding Love

 

COPYRIGHT 2014 by JoAnn Carter

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

 

eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

 

Contact Information: [email protected]

 

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version
(R),
NIV
(R),
Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

 

Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

 

White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC

www.pelicanbookgroup.com
PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410

 

White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC

 

Publishing History

First White Rose Edition, 2014

Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-425-1

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

 

I dedicate this story to every guy and gal who, as Paul states in Scripture, wants to “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

Some days running with perseverance seems so elusive! You may carry burdens of guilt and shame… perhaps complacency and doubt is weighing you down, where it's hard enough just to walk, let alone run.

I don't know what you may be struggling with today, but God does. Because of that, I pray that God may use this story in a special way to touch your heart—for His honor and glory.

 

Praise

 

Teacher's Plans
~ Mickey from You Gotta Read Reviews said, “It is wonderful when you can read a book and find enjoyment in it and uncover life lessons as well.”

 

By The Book
~ T. Hall says, “Ms. Carter writes believable characters that I absolutely fell in love with from the first page.”

 

Sweet Rest
~ Fiction with Flair Reviews says, “Carter delivers a tight, well-written adventure that I devoured it in one sitting.”

 

Smuggler of the Heart ~
Seriously Reviewed said, “Have you ever read an Inspy that touched you so, that it left goose bumps and a warm, soft feeling in your chest? This is one of the few that made me feel that way. The way the author expressed the heroines feelings in her prayers to God left me with a wonderful ache.”

 

Daniella
~ Minnie from Got Romance Reviews says, “I strongly recommend this heartfelt and heartwarming romance from the skilled pen of JoAnn Carter.”

 

 

This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

~ Romans 3:22-24

1

 

Sierra Sinclair had waited for this day for months. Still, it was the most nerve-racking morning of her life. Her pulse throbbed in her ears as she tried to swallow. She clenched her fists and realized why her mouth was dry. All the moisture had gone directly to her palms. The myriad of reasons she had wanted to come back to Daviston failed her. What had just days—even
moments
—ago seemed important enough to put her music career on hold, now felt like one more foolish choice.

And that was saying something.

Silence fell as she walked up to the front of the church.

She swallowed and risked a glance at Pastor Bill.

He smiled and gave an encouraging little nod.

Her knees shook as she gripped the smooth, wooden pulpit.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
She forced a gulp of air into her lungs as she looked out over the congregation. The curious expressions she expected. The accusing stares, well... she couldn't blame them. But it was the hostility that made her heart sink. Here in the church, she had dared hope to find a forgiving spirit. The mountain she faced to heal old wounds would be a grueling climb.

“I can see some of you remember me. For those who may not, my name is Sierra Sinclair. My father was a pharmacist here several years ago. Consequently, I am the daughter of the man who, by tampering with prescription drugs, caused the deaths of fifteen people here in Vermont, while countless others suffered pain needlessly.”

An audible gasp sounded around the two hundred plus year old sanctuary.

Sierra took another deep breath. The smell of someone's musky perfume made her stomach revolt even more. She wrapped her arms around her middle, focused on the faded blue cushion of the front pew and forged on. “But he's not the only one guilty in our family of crime. While attending Mt. Daviston High School, I was introduced to a ‘friend' who had connections in the city.” She shuffled her feet, and then glanced up to the balcony at the back of the sanctuary. “To make a rather long and sordid story short, like my father whom I hated, I began doing the very thing that cost our family more than you can imagine; in every sense of the word. Unlike him though, I openly used drugs and stole to get money to pay for them.” Her pulse pounded so loud in her ears that she could hardly hear herself speak, but she refused to quit now. “Even here in Daviston.” She hung her head, the weight of the past pressed down upon her.
Thank You, Lord, that I am forgiven. Help me live in that truth.

Sierra lifted her gaze and glanced around the congregation. “I despised my father and my own life. I did many things I'm not proud of, desperately trying to fill the ugliness and emptiness inside me.” She pointed towards the music stand off to the left. “My only reprieve, the only constant in my life, was my violin. No matter how bad things had become, I could always get lost in the music I played. If I didn't have my violin, I don't know what I would have done.” Sierra licked her lips and gave a tentative smile. “That is, until five months ago when I met Jesus.”

 



 

Cole couldn't take his eyes off the woman standing behind the pulpit. At first, her strange outfit intrigued him. It was some kind of wrinkly-textured blouse with puffy sleeves in a pattern of bright orange and brown. The neckline scooped down and exposed creamy skin, a bit more than usual for inside church, to say nothing of the tight, form-fitting pants he'd noticed as she made her way up to the front earlier.

Her outfit may have made a bold statement and fallen a little short of appropriate, but it was nothing compared to how freely she admitted her past. Talk about bold and uncomfortable. How could he not admire the courage and determination he saw as she began her testimony? Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered his parents mentioning the Sinclair scandal, but he had been away at college at the time. Sitting here, he realized it wasn't just some story.

It was real. It was this woman's life.

Her slender frame and hands moved gracefully as she continued. “I can't say things suddenly became easy after I met Christ. In fact, it's been hard in different ways, but worth every second.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. The room seemed to hold its breath. “I started drug rehab before I came to know Him, but now I realize that it has only been through His strength and power, that I've been clean for a little over a year.” She laced her fingers and gazed around the room.

His heart banged against his chest. What would say next? Her gaze found his, and he couldn't look away.

“Honestly though, drug withdrawal is nothing compared to the detox Christ has been doing in my heart. As the Bible says, I am a new creation in Christ.” Sierra glanced back at Pastor Bill. “It's because of that, and the work He's begun in me that I've returned to Daviston to what was once my hometown.” Her voice quivered a bit. “I've come back to ask your forgiveness. I want to make retribution, as far as I am able, for what I have taken.” By the time she was done speaking, her face was pale and she looked about ready to pass out.

Pastor Bill stood beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Brothers and sisters, I want you to know this visit is a sacrifice for this gal. Sierra's been given an amazing opportunity to pursue a lifelong dream of hers, to work as a professional musician.” His gaze encompassed the whole congregation. “But, she's delayed her move to New York City for three months. Instead, she chose to come here and live among us to mend these broken fences. I encourage you to welcome her with open arms and grant her the forgiveness she's asking, just as Christ has forgiven you.”

 



 

Throughout the rest of the service, Sierra tried to concentrate on the message, but the effort was pointless. The emotional toll of the morning left her feeling like a jellyfish. Her heart burned with a longing to belong. For the sense of fellowship she had when she played alongside other musicians. Why couldn't she feel it here, where she once lived?

The hope she had nursed in her heart, that she could somehow fix her past mistakes and make a new clean start within Daviston before she moved on to her career, broke in a million pieces like a glass dropped on the floor. Her eyes smarted as she prayed,
Lord, do I really need this detour? I mean, I'm here and I've asked for forgiveness. Isn't that enough? Can I move on now?
She waited for peace about that decision, but it wouldn't come.

Pastor Bill's sermon finished, and her head jerked to attention when he said, “Now, as the ushers come forward to receive God's tithe and our offerings, we have a treat. Sierra, would you share a song with us?”

Her face heated with humiliation at the thought of standing before the congregation again. Even though she knew she wasn't, she felt dirty again, unforgiven.

She sighed and picked up her instrument. It had been a mistake to come here.

A Voice echoed in her mind.
Not for them, but for Me
.

She made her way up front and tightened her bow.
Although I may seem a failure; obedience, faithfulness, and a surrendered heart is what true success is all about. May I not lose sight of that.
Sierra pushed her shoulders back and raised her violin to her shoulder. As she lifted her bow, she closed her eyes. “To the glory of the Lord.” The peace that was so elusive mere moments ago flooded her heart as the bow caressed the strings. Beautiful music flowed from her smooth strokes, echoing the music in her soul.

No longer did eyes rebuke her, no longer were lips pursed in disdain, for the song was between her and her Savior.

 



 

Sierra fixed her gaze upon the calming warm hues of the burgundy carpet runner and the deep red, maple hardwood flooring while she stood just outside of the sanctuary doors in the narthex next to Pastor Bill.

Two people walked past without even acknowledging her presence.

A shudder ran down her spine.

Pastor Bill leaned down. “Give them time,” he whispered. “These hardy, independent, New England folks are good at making walls to protect themselves. They may be invisible to the eye, but don't let it fool you. The ramparts are as tall and thick as Jericho in the Bible.” He winked. “But you know what happened to them with the Lord's help, right?”

Sierra's heart squeezed with gratefulness. Even though this morning had given her second thoughts about being here, she knew this was where God had wanted her to be. She wanted to be obedient like Joshua had been, even if the game plan He had given her seemed a bit odd. “I sure do. They crumbled right down.”