Forever Blessed (Women of Prayer) (10 page)

Paul tried to skirt around the details as much as he could. The private investigator wanted information he didn’t want to give. Paul took a better look at the guy. He would be considered by most as good looking, almost too good looking.

“Well, do you think you can find her?” Paul was losing his patience with this guy. Why did he have to ask so many questions? Did it really matter why she left? The only thing that mattered was she needed to be found, and fast.

The private detective watched the man carefully. He was hiding something. He knew enough and had been around long enough to know a liar when he heard one. “So, you have no clue as to why she left? None at all?”

“I already told you no, she up and left with the kids.” The PI was losing interest in the job, Paul could tell. He had to find her. He padded the story a bit. “I’m sure she was cheating on me, and I’m worried about our kids. She could be with him. What if this guy she’s with is a pedophile? These are my kids we’re talking about.”

Austin studied the guy sitting before him. He was pretty good at reading people and he was sure this potential client was lying about something. “Why haven’t you reported this to the police?”

“Look, do you want the job or not? I can find another guy if you don’t want the job.”

The PI let out a long breath. The responsibility of taking care of his two boys was even more pronounced since his wife had died. Yes, he had money in savings from her life insurance, but he hardly ever turned down a job. Not if it meant adding a little cushion to his depleting funds.

The husband had rights too, even if they were sometimes questionable. “Alright, I’ll take it. Tell me everything. Start at the beginning.”

             
             
             
Chapter Thirteen

Laney looked at the church. It was exactly what she expected. The building was older with traditional stained glass windows and a steeple. Her parents’ church had a similar look to it, all holy and righteous. She wondered if the people inside had the same “holier than thou” attitudes that she found at her parents’ church. Pretty windows can only hide so much.

When Sheila had invited her to attend, she hadn’t really wanted to go. Since then she’d been invited by Ella and her new landlords who also happened to be her new bosses. What could hurt by attending one time? At least she’d put on a good show for her new bosses. She had to stay in their good graces.

Sheila led her into the foyer where a pretty woman was shaking peoples’ hands.

“Welcome.” Pastor Jessi took hold of the hand of the woman in front of her. “I’m Pastor Jessi. My husband, Pastor Mark, is in the back room praying. It’s so good to have you here this morning.”

Laney only nodded her head.
That seemed sincere.

Sheila was next. “Hi, I’m Sheila Richardson. We spoke last week.”

Jessi smiled. “Sheila, it’s so good to meet you. I’m glad you were finally able to make it. The sanctuary is just through those doors and please, if you have time after service, I’d like to introduce you to my husband.”

Laney and Sheila made their way into the sanctuary and found a pew to sit in.

There was a lot of commotion toward the front. From the sounds drifting her way Laney expected things to get started soon, and before she knew it she was tapping her foot to a steady drumbeat.
Where did that come from?
She had no intention of enjoying this. This visit was a one-time thing. Sheila seemed to be enjoying herself as well. She was clapping and singing along, like she knew the songs. Laney studied her friend. How could a person smile and sing at the same time?

Laney grasped the pew in front of her, trying to stop the contagion that seemed to be spreading. She didn’t remember liking the music this much at her parents’ church. The words were displayed on a large screen and no matter how much she tried, Laney couldn’t keep her feet from moving with the beat. After a few songs and a few announcements, everyone was seated.

The man she assumed to be Pastor Mark stepped to the podium and asked a single question. “Who does God love?

“No, I’m serious…who does God love? Those of you who have been Christians for a while will automatically say, ‘everyone.’ You are correct, but have you really thought about what that means?”

Laney wasn’t sure where this was going, nor did she like the idea of God loving Paul. She waited for him to go on.

“In the book of Genesis God loved liars when he loved Adam and Eve. He loved a murderer when he loved Cain. He loved a drunk when he loved Noah. He loved Jacob, who was a cheat and a liar. He loved Joseph, who was prideful. He loved Moses, who murdered a man. God loved David and called him a man after his own heart after David committed adultery and had the woman’s husband murdered. God loved a harlot when he loved Rahab. Do you get the idea?”

Laney looked around the room to see if anyone else was surprised at what they were hearing. She continued to listen.

“I see most of you are nodding your heads in agreement. It’s easy to see how God could love someone who lived hundreds of years ago. It’s easy to see how God could love someone who hasn’t directly hurt you. What about those people all around us who have hurt us, who continue to hurt us? What about them?

"Last year one of our members had a horrible injustice brought upon her family. Her world was torn apart. Some of you already know her story. For the rest of you, she has given me permission to share. Her husband and son were outside in their front yard. Her son had just gotten his first two-wheeler and her husband was trying to teach him to ride it. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining and the birds were singing. Nothing should have gone wrong. Little did they know, but one street over an argument was going on. Things were starting to get heated. It wasn’t long before one of the guys in the argument pulled a gun and fired off several rounds. One of the bullets traveled the distance between their houses and hit their 6-year-old son, killing him instantly. If this happened to you, would you love the man that shot your child?”

Every eye in the building was glued to the pastor as he spoke. Laney didn’t know what to think. Was he really suggesting that the shooter was worth loving? She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

The pastor continued. “There’s more. Her pain didn’t stop there. Her husband was in so much pain that he bottled everything up and blamed himself. They grew apart in their pain and he ended up leaving her. He just walked out. One day while she was at work he left. She came home to a half empty closet. She lost her son, and then she lost her husband. How do you love through something like that? How do you still function? Yet that is exactly what she did. She kept putting one foot in front of the other. She kept getting up each day. She kept kneeling next to her bed each night. Instead of blaming God, she poured her heart out to him. Instead of lashing out at him, she crawled into his lap and clung to him. Instead of being bitter, for the first time she understood her own sin and truly understood forgiveness and God’s love. It wasn’t easy. There were days she wanted to quit. Days she wanted to crawl under the covers and never get up. But, she didn’t. And God has blessed her for it. Her husband is sitting next to her today because she didn’t give up. She stayed on her knees reminding God to give her back everything the devil stole and more. He is restoring this couple, renewing their relationship and binding them together with chords that cannot easily be broken.

Who do you think Christ died on the cross for? Romans 3:10 tells us, “There is none righteous, no not one.” That means that every single one of us is a sinner. Every single one of us has committed a crime against God and without Christ dying for us, without his blood being shed, we would have no hope of spending eternity with our Lord and Savior in heaven.

When we look at a murderer, we see a useless excuse for a man. When God sees a murderer, he sees someone that he loved enough that he died for him. That is how God loves. That is how he wants us to love.”

The message continued but Laney couldn’t find her way past her own thoughts. God loved Paul? And worse yet, he expected her to love Paul? This is what Christianity was all about? First she had to endure the hypocrites at her mother’s church, now this? She felt Sheila squeeze her hand and her attention was captured as the preacher continued. She must have missed most of what he had been saying but, she listened to the rest anyway.

“If not for the love and grace of a merciful God, Jessi and I would not be here with you today. I did not deserve, and still don’t deserve, the love my wife has for me. That I am standing before you today is proof that real love, the kind of love God requires of us, works miracles in the everyday lives of sinners like me. I challenge each of you to go out and love someone. Love someone who you think is unlovable. Show them the love of Christ and change their lives forever.”

Laney kept her distance as Sheila spoke with Pastor Mark and Jessi after service. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself or the fact that she was having major issues with the content of his message. She could not understand why God would want her to love someone who didn’t deserve to be loved. It made no sense. What did these people do to deserve love? What did Paul do to deserve love? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What right did this guy have to tell her to love anybody? Being careful not to make eye contact, she patiently waited for Sheila.

Once they were outside, she was unable to keep quiet any longer. “Do you really believe all that nonsense? About God wanting us to love everyone, even people who don’t deserve our love? I mean, really? God expects me to love Paul? After everything he has done?”

Sheila chose her words wisely. “Laney, God doesn’t measure a person’s worth the way we do. He doesn’t look down and see an 'unlovable' person. When he looks at us, he looks at our hearts. He sees where we have been and the hurts that have plagued us all our lives. He sees past our sin and sees what we can be if only we will let him help change us.”

She closed her eyes and continued. “Do you remember me telling you what my childhood was like? How I would hide in the closet until it got quiet, until I knew it was safe to come out? I had to get past feeling afraid. I had to learn to trust my heavenly father even though I had no idea how to trust my earthly father. It wasn’t easy for me. When I was a child, it was easy to trust…to have faith. But as I grew older, I also grew bitter and angry. My heart hardened and I walked away from my faith. It was right after my mother died. My father had been drinking and was especially angry with her. It was over something stupid, like usual. He came in mad and just let her have it. I never told you about what happened.

We had just graduated from college and I was home visiting before I headed out to make my fortune. He must have forgotten I was home because he had learned to restrain himself when I was there. I didn’t hear them right away. I was listening to my iPod with earphones and physically felt a shaking before I knew anything was happening. I pulled my earphones out and ran downstairs and found him standing over her, just staring. He looked at me, and then looked back down at her bleeding, broken body. I screamed and he took off. The neighbors called the police and they found me covered in her blood, just holding her and crying. It took two paramedics to pry her out of my hands.

"If he hadn’t hit a telephone pole and died in the accident, I swear I would have killed him myself. It took everything I had in me to allow them to be buried next to one another. I hated my father. There are times I still think I do. I hated myself. If I had been more attentive, if I had been paying attention, maybe my mother would still be alive. For the longest time I blamed myself. I had been listening to music, absorbed in my own world. I didn’t know where to turn. I had no idea what to do.

“I lived in a daze for weeks, wondering how it all was going to end. I questioned God at every turn. For as much as I blamed myself, I blamed God more. He did this. He let this happen. He didn’t care about my mother. He didn’t care about me. All these thoughts kept pouring into my head, invading every thinking moment. They wouldn’t let me alone. My anger grew. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I started drinking. I trashed my parents’ house. I smashed every picture he was in and I cried over every picture she was in. I wandered around our town, drunk. Did you know I was arrested for public intoxication?”

By now both women were seated on the stone bench outside the house in the garden. Sheila wiped away the tears, determined to finish what she had started. “Most of our small town, including the police, knew about our family problems so they were pretty patient with me. One night as I walked and drank, I ended up in our little church, sitting in a pew. I was so angry I threw the bottle at the crucifix that stood at the back of the altar. The noise was deafening. The glass shards flew through the air, catching glimpses of light as they scattered. All of a sudden, I realized what I had done. I slowly made my way to the altar, oblivious to the broken pieces of glass beneath my feet. As I looked down at the altar that was before me, I saw a piece of broken glass that was in the exact same shape as the cross that stood before me.