By Wednesday, Shiloh knew the answer. She would wait, however, for Randy to reveal their destiny.
Shiloh made that decision as she pulled into the parking lot of St. Stephens Baptist for Bible study. There were more cars than usual, and she wondered whether some of the women had invited friends. She gasped when she entered the room and saw Monica helping Sister Eleanor set up an extra row of chairs. Monica properly positioned the chair she had been holding, then paused to hug Shiloh.
“Surprise!”
“Surprise indeed,” Shiloh said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company this evening, young lady?”
Monica shrugged. “Grandma said it would be okay for me to come, even though I’d be the youngest person here. I just want to keep growing in wisdom, and in faith, Mrs. Griffin. This seems like a good place to start.”
Shiloh smiled. “Well, I’m happy to see you, as always. If you get tired of hanging out with us old ladies, you know you are welcome to attend youth Bible study on Tuesday nights, even if you decide not to participate in choir rehearsal. And just know that I’m always here to talk—just a phone call away—if you ever want to work through something you’re studying in the Bible, or if you have a spiritual question you’re wrestling with.”
“I know—and I will,” Monica said. “You have been such a blessing to me, Mrs. Griffin. I think God sent you to Sherman Park just
for me this year. I couldn’t have gone through all of this hard stuff without you, and your family.”
Shiloh’s eyes grew misty. How was she going to leave this baby behind if God had other plans for her and Randy and their family? How would she break the news to Monica? She squeezed the girl’s hand.
“Well, since we’re family and all, and I’m not teaching at Sherman Park at the moment, please stop calling me Mrs. Griffin or First Lady Griffin. I’m just Shiloh to you, okay?”
She wanted to offer up the name “Mama Shiloh,” but knew it might be too soon. In some ways, three years was a long time, but when a young girl lost her mother, it was just as if it happened yesterday.
“And I promise you this, no matter where life takes us, I will always consider you my daughter in spirit, and part of my extended family, got that?”
Monica grinned and hugged her. “So that means you’ll come to my end-of-summer recital, when I complete the music program in Chicago?”
Shiloh broke into a grin. “You’re definitely going? Good for you! Absolutely, Monica. I will be there and so will Pastor Randy. We wouldn’t miss it.”
Jade strode in and captured the room’s attention with her fitted jeans, wide-brimmed straw hat, stiletto boots, and celebrity-style shades.
“What?” she asked, hand on hip, as she posed in the doorway. When no one responded, she did. “Look, God didn’t say we couldn’t be faithful and fabulous. I’ve been trying to tell ya’ll that. You better recognize.”
The women burst into laughter, and Sister Adelaide shook her head. “That woman … gotta love her.”
And love her they had learned to do. Shiloh saw it that night, as Jade led them through a study of what it means to be transparent yet obedient, by reviewing Ruth’s life and her faithfulness to her mother-in-law, Naomi.
“Ruth could have returned to her homeland and presumably found
another husband,” Jade said. “But she clung to this woman who had shown her a love like no other—a love that mirrored God’s own love. And when that woman—Naomi—reached a point of despair so deep that she thought God had forsaken her, God used the presence and faithfulness of Ruth to prove that he was steadfast, and that he was right there with her, in the middle of the darkest nights. When Ruth had her baby, whose child did they call it? Naomi’s! The village celebrated the fact that Naomi had a child, although Ruth had given birth. This is another sign of God’s faithfulness to keep his promises. His blessings don’t always come in the package or in the presence we expect; he sends them in ways so out-of-the-box that we’re often left speechless.”
Jade pointed to herself when she said this, and the women who had been in the Bible study the longest and remembered her first blundering attempts to teach them, smiled or chuckled. Then she reached into her ears and pulled out two caramel hearing aids and held them in the air. The room rang with applause.
Shiloh grinned. She understood now why Jade had dressed like a diva tonight: Her outfit had been part of the lesson—a visual example to help the women see that what they often understood or interpreted a certain way wasn’t always wise; nor was it the way God saw and operated in the world.
Thank you for using her, Lord. She’s even helping me.
When she reached home that night, after Randy as usual, she searched the house to ask if he wanted his evening bowl of ice cream, and finally found him in his study, on his knees. She was about to tiptoe away when he lifted his head and saw her, and motioned for her to join him. She complied, and he reached for her hands. She placed her palms in his, then lowered herself to her knees, so that she was eye-to-eye with him.
How was it possible that the older they grew, the wider they spread, the grayer they turned, the more she loved this man? She
didn’t know the math of the heart, but she was grateful. Shiloh looked into his eyes, already knowing what he needed to tell her.
“God says go, babe. Go back to Atchity, to Riverview Baptist, and assist Dad in his final months as pastor, so that we can lead the church that he and your mother took from its toddler years to amazing heights.”
Randy paused. “How do you feel about that?”
Shiloh smiled. “I say, ‘Yes, Lord.’ He told me the same thing earlier today.”
“Vic and Jade are ready to lead St. Stephens Baptist,” Randy said. “I have no doubt that the congregation will embrace them, and that they will serve well and minister to those in need—yes, even Ms. Jade.”
After seeing Jade connect with the women tonight, including those who had come to Bible study for the first time, Shiloh agreed that Jade would be up to the task. She was going to do wonderful things in both the secular world and through ministry—Shiloh could see it all over her. Whatever had been holding her back had lost its grip; she was on fire for God, and it was evident in every aspect of her being, even when she wasn’t talking about her faith, the ministry, or anything related to religion. Her light just shone.
Shiloh and Randy embraced, then Randy led the two of them in prayer, asking God to direct each and every decision and step they’d make from here to there—from Milwaukee back to Atchity.
“If God says so, we’ll work toward making the transition in late spring, after the boys are out of school,” Randy said. “That will give you time to explore a way to complete your bachelor’s degree at Alabama U, or maybe at a satellite campus of Birmingham-Southern. If you want to teach, I’m going to support you in that. You need to be using your gifts just as well as the next person, and I can see how God has used you in Monica and Phaedra’s lives.”
Shiloh kissed him.
“Thank you for that, babe. I do want to finish my degree, and it would be wonderful if I can do it at Birmingham-Southern, since I started there. I’ll check and see. And about Monica … I’ve already let her know that she’s our surrogate daughter. If we move in early June, like you’re suggesting, we’re going to have to come back this way in August. I’ve promised her that we’ll attend the wrap-up concert for her summer music camp in Chicago. It means a lot to her for me—for us—to be there.”
Randy gave Shiloh a thumbs-up. “Done,” he said. “She is a special and gifted girl. If she stays on the right track, she is going to have some awesome opportunities come her way. We’ll call your parents in the morning and tell them what we’ve decided, okay? If we call tonight, Dad won’t sleep.”
Shiloh laughed. “Then you better wait and tell the boys tomorrow, too. Lem will have dates with Lia on his mind, but the rest of the boys will be happy just to go back to their former schools and friends.”
Shiloh left Randy in his office, staring out of a dark window, much like she did in the mornings, when she stood or sat in the sunroom, playing her recorder, her flute, or simply praying. She strolled past the family room, where David and Raphael were watching the scrolling credits on a Nickelodeon TV show.
“Turn it off, now, boys. Gotta get ready for bed and school tomorrow,” she said.
Shiloh ignored their groans and made her way to the sunroom, where she leaned against the doorway. Had it really been just over three months ago when she rolled out of bed before anyone else was stirring, to go through the annual commemoration of her season of transgressions? So much had happened in such a short period, that it seemed like a lifetime ago.
She moved into the room and decided not to turn on the light, because the glow from the hallway provided just enough of a beam for her to navigate the room. Shiloh retrieved her recorder from the
corner, and the three-by-five picture frame that she pulled out once a year from its hiding place in the room. She strode to the sofa, where she cradled it in her palms and read it one last time.
Remember this day, the mistakes you made.
Now she understood why she’d been stuck for so many years. She hadn’t really been commemorating her loss, or truly seeking peace on the anniversary of the act she committed in France all those years ago; she’d actually been using that date to dredge up old feelings of guilt and shame, and to remind herself why she needed to be so good for the rest of her days. Through her own might, she’d held herself in bondage all of these years, when God only required repentance once. No more.
Shiloh laid the frame on the sofa next to her, pulled the recorder out of its case, and softly began playing “Her Song,” for what she knew would be the last time. Just ten notes into it, however, she stopped. There was no need to play this original piece all the way through, ever again. It was a reflection of where she had been, not who she was today, or where God was taking her. Someday, when she felt a new song in her heart, she would pull out the recorder again, and play until her heart was content. Or maybe she’d devise a melody for the flute. For now, she would tuck away this instrument, and along with it, the song that had chronicled a loss that had been deeply wounding.
Shiloh picked up the frame again and slid off the back. She pulled out the typewritten note that she had used to condemn herself for nearly two decades. When it was in her hands, she read the phrase aloud, but changed it to what would be her new commemoration going forward, on that particular date in August: “Remember this day; God’s grace is always sufficient.”
Shiloh wished she had a pen so she could scribble those words on the back of the note, then she decided that wasn’t necessary. Her life would reflect this phrase every day of the year going forward, not just in August, because this truth finally had a home—in her heart.
1. What themes resonated most with you in this book?
2. What did you think of Shiloh? Was she likable?
3. Was it realistic for Shiloh to be so self-conscious about not having her bachelor’s degree? Do you know women who have felt a similar level of insecurity about a particular issue, or have you, and how was it resolved?
4. Do you think Shiloh was wrong for keeping such a significant secret from her husband?
5. Do women of faith routinely mask their true selves? If so, is this appropriate or harmful?
6. Why was it important for Shiloh and Jade to share painful parts of their life’s journey with others?
7. What did you think of Jade? Was she innately a showy person, or were her actions a sign of her insecurities?
8. Were the women in church justified for judging Monica?
9. Do you believe Shiloh took the right approach in addressing Monica’s difficult choices?
10. Was Shiloh right to share her secrets with her young sons? Should she have been more concerned about the impact of those secrets on her husband and family?
11. What did you think of Shiloh’s relationship with her sisters? With her mother?
12. How did you feel about Randy’s initial reaction to Shiloh’s secret?
13. Randy acknowledged that his motives for choosing to marry Shiloh weren’t so innocent. How would that have made you feel if you were Shiloh?
14. How did you feel about Lem’s reaction to Shiloh’s revelations?
15. A lot of judging took place among these characters. What did you learn from the experiences of those being judged, as well as those rendering judgment?
16. Was this story an accurate portrayal of “church folk,” and if so, in what way?
17. In this era where there’s much talk about people leaving or avoiding church, should regular churchgoers change how they interact with each other, or operate in ministry, and if so, how?
18. What did you take away from reading this book that may help you better relate to people who are different from you in personality, values, or otherwise?
I have many people to thank for walking with me, pouring into me, cheering me on, and lifting me up with prayers and other tangible support during the writing of this novel. My book ministry thrives because you have in some way been an “armor bearer,” or sister or brother in heart and spirit. I sincerely thank my son and daughter, Jay and Syd, for continuing to be my biggest cheerleaders, and for your unfailing love. I consider it a privilege and blessing to be your mother. I thank my siblings, Dr. Barbara Grayson, Henry Haney, Sandra K. Williams, and Patsy Scott, and my extended family in Arkansas, Texas, Iowa, and beyond, especially Larry Armstead, Lisa Armstead, Pamela Williams, and members of the Adams family. I’m grateful to my spiritual mentor Muriel Miller Branch, my dear friends and first readers Carol W. Jackson, Teresa Coleman, Cheryle Rodriguez, and Maya P. Smart; my pastors and spiritual leaders Rev. Drs. Micah and Jacqueline Madison-McCreary, and special friends Bobbie Walker Trussell, Comfort Anderson-Miller, Charmaine Spain, Connie Lambert and family, and Sharon Shahid. I sincerely thank: my loyal crew of friends Gwendolyn Richard, Otesa M. Miles, Robin Farmer, Karen Shell, Nancy Lucy, Joe and Gloria Murphy, Margaret Williams, and Danielle Harne Jones; my awesome colleagues at Collegiate School, including Amanda Surgner, Elizabeth Cogar Batty, and Dianne Carter; my author buddies, Rhonda McKnight, Tyora Moody, Tia McCollors, Fritz Kling, Booker Mattison, Tiffany L. Warren, Adriana Trigiani, Roger Bruner, Reshonda Tate Billingsley, Victoria Christopher Murray, Kim Cash
Tate, Bonnie Calhoun, Dr. Linda Beed, Gigi Amateau, Meg Medina, Lillian Lincoln Lambert, Michelle Sutton, and Carol Mackey.
Gratitude is also extended to my agent, Steve Laube; my speaker agent, Patsy Arnett; my editors Becky Philpott, Sue Brower, and Becky Monds; and Alicia Mey and other members of the Zondervan and Thomas Nelson marketing and sales team. I also sincerely thank Dr. Debra Ogilvie and her colleagues at Richmond Hearing Doctors for your generous hearts and inspiration, members of Spring Creek Baptist Church for your support and prayers, and readers and book clubs across the nation (and around the globe) for reading, and for sharing this book with others.
In closing, I invite you to consider, who among us hasn’t made mistakes, intentionally committed a wrong, or suffered the consequences of a foolish act, brazen decision, or circumstances dealt us by life? In some form or fashion, we’ve all been there, and in the pages of this book, I hope you, the reader, discovered themes that helped you realize it takes all of a person’s being—the high notes and the low, the woundedness and the wellness—to make one who he or she is. If we’re willing, we can use all that we’ve journeyed through to become a blessing to others.
Thank you again for reading!
All My Best,
Stacy