Redemption (14 page)

Noreen leaned close one last time. “So . . . are you . . . you know, does he want a divorce?”

Kari forced a smile. “He doesn’t know what he wants.” She remembered the Lord’s persistent whisperings from a moment ago. “But God’s in control of our marriage. I really believe everything will be fine.”

There seemed to be nothing left for Noreen to ask, and she shrugged. “I’ll pray for you.” She paused and looked more serious than before. “I don’t know your situation, but I can tell you this. Whatever your trouble, you’re doing the right thing. God can clean up even the worst problems, you know? Your marriage could be better than you ever dreamed, better than before this happened.” She squeezed Kari’s hand. “Don’t give up, Kari. Please.”

Kari wasn’t sure what to say. Ever since Tim left she’d been longing to hear those exact words.
You’re doing the right thing. God can clean up even the worst problems
. . .
don’t give up.
Funny that now they would come from this annoying woman, this long-ago friend who didn’t have a clue about Kari or Tim or their marriage.

Kari’s heart softened in gratitude. “Thanks.”

Kari glanced at her watch as she headed for the sanctuary. The last thing she wanted was to walk in late after missing so many weeks.

She spotted her father and headed toward him, trying to ward off the sadness welling within her. She had planned on feeling hopeful at this point, surrounded by church family, about to hear Pastor Mark’s message—especially after Noreen’s encouragement.

But as she took her seat beside her father, she could think of only one thing.

Somewhere across town in an off-campus apartment bedroom, her husband would be waking up in the arms of another woman.

Chapter Ten

Ryan Taylor slipped into the back row of the sanctuary five minutes before the service began and wondered if this would be the day. There was no denying he’d attended this service in hopes of seeing Kari. He’d done little more than think of her since talking with Ashley.

He searched the congregation, knowing he’d recognize the back of her head even in a sea of people. Poor Kari. She must be devastated. Maybe too devastated to make a public appearance at church. He scanned the pews.
Lord . . . where is she?

His father’s favorite verse flashed across his mind:
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

Ryan blinked.

The fear of the Lord?

How long had it been since that verse had come to mind? Ryan’s gut tightened, and he absently rubbed the back of his neck, the place where football had nearly cost him his life. He knew exactly how long it had been. In November it would be eight years. Eight years since he lay motionless strapped to a hospital bed, fearing he’d never find a way out. Fearing God in a way he’d never done before.

Back then he barely breathed without praying, begging God for mercy and healing. But over the years, after the scars from his injury faded, life found a way of gaining ground on his best intentions, taking up more and more time and leaving fewer hours for spending time with God.

It was simple, really. The urgency was gone.

Ryan let his gaze fall to his hands, and he felt a mantle of conviction settle across his shoulders. Why was the realization hitting him so hard here and now? Had God chosen this moment to call him on the months and years of gradual decline, the complacency that resulted in . . . well, in the type of spotty church attendance and communication with God he’d been guilty of since he’d returned to football a year after his injury? Sure, he attended a night service now and then, but his faith-driven passion was limping badly.

He felt a sting in his soul, as if the Lord himself were poking needles at his conscience. He winced as he realized the truth. Even today he was there only because of Kari. Thoughts of her, memories of her had consumed him since the moment Ashley had spoken her name.

Kari . . . his precious Kari girl. His mind began to drift again, lazily taking him down dusty lakeside paths to a time when a brown-eyed beauty with laughter like wind chimes was his best friend and constant companion, down the trail of years to a place where . . .

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

Ryan sat up straighter in his seat, jolted from the memories that distracted him.
I’m sorry, Lord . . . I’m trying
.

Huge, holy eyes seemed focused directly on him, penetrating his mind and soul, seeing his thoughts and motives and intentions. His very heart.

He opened his bulletin and looked at the sermon title on the top left page. As he read the words, he could feel the blood leaving his face, the slight trembling in his fingers. Whatever was happening, God had him here for a reason—and somehow Ryan doubted it had anything to do with Kari.

The sermon title was “The Fear of the Lord Is the Beginning.”

Ryan closed his eyes and began to pray.

As soon as Kari took her seat, her father leaned over and put his hand gently on her knee.

“You made it.”

She smiled. “Barely.” A weariness settled over her. It had been harder than she thought, telling Noreen why she was alone, admitting out loud that she and Tim were having problems. She slid down in her seat and leaned on her father, trying to soak in some of his strength and stability.

The worship music began, but Kari couldn’t bring herself to sing along. Instead, she stared at the song sheet and let her mind wander. When exactly was the first time Tim had cheated on her? Was he such a good pretender that she hadn’t even noticed? Or had she suspected even last spring that things weren’t what they’d once been? that something was wrong?

I didn’t want to see it. . . .

Kari blinked, and two tears fell to the paper in her hands. The music stopped, and she looked up as two dozen children filed across the steps of the stage. They wriggled and giggled and squirmed about until an older woman got their attention.

Noreen’s daughter was probably up there, and as Kari scanned the group, she saw the children of several old friends. Her hand moved firmly over her lower abdomen.
What about me, Lord? Am I really pregnant? Will I have to raise a child alone?

The music started, and the children began to sing a song that had been Kari’s favorite ever since they’d sung it at a retreat when she was sixteen years old: “Jesus loves me, this I know. . . .”

Ryan Taylor had been on the retreat too. They’d sat side by side as the speaker explained the options Christ might have if he were to get one of them face-to-face in a room alone. Kari closed her eyes as the children continued to sing, and she could still hear the retreat speaker’s voice.

“He could yell at you and tell you how badly you’ve messed up, order you to get things right, and then hand out some sort of punishment.” The speaker had been passionate, walking back and forth across the stage as the teens sat spellbound.

“Or he could shake his head and tell you what a disappointment you’ve been.”

Then the speaker’s voice had grown quiet as he stood still, only his eyes moving deliberately about the room, making contact with as many teens as he could. He pointed at a teen in the front row and asked him to come onto the stage. Surprised and a little unsure, the boy hopped up and at the speaker’s direction stood facing the man.

“You know what Jesus would do instead?” The speaker’s voice was softer than it had been all night. Slowly, lovingly, he put his arms around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him into a long embrace. When the speaker drew back, he kept one arm around the boy as he led the group in what became the theme song for the retreat.

“Jesus loves me, this I know. . . .”

Every teen in the room had been crying that night, and Kari had glanced over to see tears trickling down Ryan’s cheeks as well.

The visual effect of that scene, combined with the simple message of the song, had stayed with Kari every day since. Even now, with her world upside down and her heart hanging heavy within her, Kari didn’t for a minute doubt Christ’s love. She sniffed softly, and her mother reached over and handed her a tissue. Kari lifted her eyes just long enough to thank her. Pastor Mark began his sermon. Kari knew she should be listening, but she still couldn’t get beyond the thoughts that vied for her attention. What would she do if Tim was really serious about a divorce? Could he do it without her consent? Would a baby change things? And even if it did, could she raise a child with a man who seemed to have abandoned his faith along with his marriage?

What’s going to happen to me, Lord? Where do I go from here?

Once again she was overwhelmed by a strong sense of comfort, as if the Lord had slipped into the pew beside her and put his arms around her. Just like the picture the retreat speaker had painted so many years earlier.

The sermon was winding up—something about the fear of God and not running away—and before she could force herself to think clearly, Pastor Mark was praying. “Lord, I know there are people with us today who are hurting and in trouble. I believe you’ve brought them here for a reason.” In the background, the pianist began playing a slow, haunting arrangement of “Jesus Loves Me.”

Pastor Mark continued his prayer over the music. “Father, help us hear you more clearly. Help us have a healthy fear of your power, that whatever you call us to do, we can do it in your strength.”

Kari kept her eyes closed, her face downward, trying to hear what the Lord might be saying to her.

“We have the prayer room open now.” He paused, and Kari felt as if he were speaking directly to her. “This is one of those times when you have a choice. You can hear God and ignore him, or hear him and do what he’s asking. We’re all in this together, people. Come and let someone pray with you.”

From the back of the church, Ryan felt like a man who’d just had his sight adjusted. The sermon was strong, pointing out the truth that God is not only Savior and Friend and Prince of Peace but also the Almighty One. He is powerful and just—a God to be feared, respected, held in awe. So gripping were Pastor Mark’s words that thoughts of Kari had been pushed from Ryan’s mind. If she was in the service, he hadn’t seen her. And now, with his heart broken wide open by the message, he knew that was a good thing.

He still had no idea why God had chosen this morning to get his attention after his years of mediocre faith. But Ryan knew without a doubt he was here for a reason, as if he’d shown up for a divine appointment. And when the pastor called for people to come up for prayer, for the first time since Ryan had given his life to Jesus, he was on his feet and headed down the aisle before he had time to change his mind.

Though her eyes were closed, Kari could feel tears trickling down her face and onto her hands. If only she could get past her shame and go forward. But even from where she was sitting, near the front of the church, the walk seemed a mile long. Too far to go by herself, crying and alone, without the help of a husband who no longer loved her. A husband living a life of adultery.

Go, daughter . . . where two or more are gathered, there I am.

Kari adjusted her position and hunched over her legs, her face in her hands.
I won’t know what to say, Lord.