The Forgiving Hour (14 page)

But if God cared, how come there was pain and suffering on earth? How come He didn’t do something about it? And how come Dakota’s mom had to struggle the way she did, when she’d never hurt anybody in her entire life? How come she had to be alone and unhappy? How come he wasn’t a better son to her, and how come …

At that moment, the strangest thing happened. The questions that raced through his mind were silenced. A peace stole over him. A peace like the hush before a storm when even the earth holds its breath.

He couldn’t explain it, but Dakota knew something extraordinary was happening to him.

And nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Claire lay on the sofa, trying to read the paperback novel in her hand. It was her favorite kind, a murder mystery, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate. Time after time, she had to go back and reread a page.

The house seemed too quiet. On a Sunday morning, Dakota was usually in his room with his stereo blaring out some sort of rock music. This morning, he’d gone to church.

Had it been a mistake to let him go? She’d done it as much out of defiance toward Dave as for any help she’d thought it might be to Dakota. What were they teaching there? About a God of love?

Ha!

Why would anyone believe that? Wasn’t it just setting a person up for more disappointment, more disillusionment? God didn’t care what happened to the people on earth. If He was watching from heaven, it was only for entertainment purposes. All a big joke.

As much as she was loath to admit it, she thought her ex was probably right about organized religion. But on the other hand, if he was wrong, and if God and heaven existed, then there was also a hell. And if there was a hell, then Dave Porter would burn for all eternity in it.

Just as he deserved.

Blurry-eyed, with Gretchen leading the way and noisily demanding a saucer of milk, Sara shuffled into the kitchen of her small apartment. Like Gretchen and her milk, Sara was desperately in need of that first cup of coffee.

Sleep had eluded her again last night. She hadn’t slept well since her encounter with that jerk, Jet Willis, last Friday. She couldn’t seem to shake the sound of his voice as he’d suggested they spend the night together, the look in his eyes that said he thought she would be willing to go to bed with a man she’d just met.

Did she
really
look the type? Did she have a big red
A
tattooed on her forehead or something?

She reached for the coffee carafe and filled it with tap water.

You ought to find a church to attend, dear. You might meet some nice young men there.

She tried to shut out her mother’s voice as she scooped coffee grounds into the filter. The last thing she needed was to go to church and be made to feel guilty. She didn’t need people judging her for the mistakes she’d made. She could judge herself without any help, thank you very much. She knew what she’d done.

But it wasn’t like her affair with a married man had been her fault, she argued silently. She hadn’t
known
Dave was married. And once she knew, she’d told him to get lost.

With a moan, she set the carafe on the counter, leaned forward and, with her eyes squeezed shut, repeatedly bounced her forehead against the cupboard door. When was she going to get over it? Over
him?
When did she get to put the past behind her, once and for all?

She would be twenty-three in a couple of months. These were the eighties, for crying out loud. Men and women lived together all the time, even had children together, without being married, and no one seemed to notice or care.

Sure, there were a few, like her parents, who still taught their children that sex was wrong outside of marriage. But weren’t they just being puritanical?

Of course they were.

Sara dearly loved them, but her folks were as old-fashioned as they came. They didn’t understand how society worked these days. Sara lived in a different world from the one Kristina and Jared Jennings had grown up in. Young people were more sophisticated, more in tune with their needs and desires.

That was a good thing. Right?

With a deep sigh, she refocused her attention on the coffeemaker. “Why does it have to be so hard?” she muttered. “Life isn’t fair.”

She pressed the button to start the coffee brewing, then headed for the bathroom and one of her famous three-minute showers. According to Patti Cooper, her old college roommate, no other female alive could shower as quickly as Sara.

Thoughts of Patti caused a sadness to tighten her heart. She’d been dreadful about answering letters. A year ago her friend had apparently given up on her; she’d stopped writing altogether. Now Sara didn’t even know where Patti lived.

Why did I let that happen? Why did everything have to fall apart for me?

No, life just wasn’t fair.

FIFTEEN

The small narthex of Sunrise Fellowship had been decorated for Christmas with a real pine tree, large wreaths, red ribbons, holly, and silver balls. In the sanctuary, someone was playing the organ, and the melody of a familiar carol drifted through the closed doors.

Dakota paused for a moment to take it in. In the five weeks since he’d encountered Jesus in that upstairs Sunday school room, this church had come to feel like a second home. A place of warmth, comfort, and security.

Now, looking at all the special decorations, he felt as never before the wonder of this season. For the first time in his life, he truly understood what it was about. It wasn’t about giving or getting presents. It wasn’t about a ten-day vacation from school. It was about love, the kind of love only God could give.

He wished the whole world understood that. He wished his mom understood it.

With a sigh, he headed down the hall to the youth pastor’s office.

When Pastor Henry saw him, he rose from the chair behind his desk. “Come on in, Dakota. You’re right on time.” He waved him in. “How are you?”

“Confused.”

The pastor grinned. “Most of us are when we’re fifteen.”

Dakota released a humorless laugh of agreement.

“Doesn’t help, huh?” Pastor Henry pointed to a chair opposite him. “Well, sit down and we’ll talk. See if we can’t find a solution to whatever’s troubling you.”

It wasn’t easy for Dakota to open up and share his innermost feelings. He’d become an expert at keeping his thoughts private. He looked down at the book he’d brought with him. The study Bible, a version specifically created for teens, had been a gift to him from the Kreizenbecks.

“I’ve been reading the Bible every day,” he began. “John told me to stick with the New Testament at first, so that’s what I’ve been doing. I understand a lot of it. It’s helped me figure out some things. Only … only I still don’t know what to do about …” He stopped, unsure how to put his thoughts into words.

He lifted his eyes, looking across the desk. Even though Pastor Henry was gazing directly at him, Dakota suspected he was praying at the same time he was listening. For some reason, that made him feel better.

“It’s about my mom.” He paused, then added, “And my … dad.” The word felt odd on his tongue. As if he’d spoken it in a foreign language instead of English. And he felt guilty for saying it.

“Go on, Dakota.”

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My folks are divorced. My father … walked out on us over three years ago. He was cheating on Mom. He hurt her real bad.” He felt a spark of anger and unconsciously tightened his hands into fists. “He took off, and Mom was left with all the problems. We had to sell our house, and the car was taken back by the bank. Mom’s always worryin’ about how to pay the bills. And we’ve never heard from him since the divorce. No letters. No child support. Nothing. It’s like we never even existed. She hates him because of it.”

Dakota gripped his Bible, staring down at it as he continued.

“I’ve hated him too. Hated him more than anything. But I … I know I’m supposed to forgive him.” He met the pastor’s understanding gaze. “Aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I think I’m gonna need help with that.”

Pastor Henry leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “God will give you whatever help you need to obey Him. We have His promise.”

Dakota nodded.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yeah. It’s … well …” He felt frustrated by his inability to articulate his feelings and thoughts.

Use the Word.
Sure. That was the best way to explain.

He flipped open the Bible, then looked up. “It says here in Ephesians 6 that I’m supposed to obey my parents ‘cause it’s the right thing to do. And it says I’m supposed to honor them so things’ll go well for me. Right?”

“Right.”

“Well, I figure I can forgive my father, since that’s what Jesus says to do. And I think I can stop being so mad at him. I guess that’d help with the honoring part.” He pointed to the scripture. “Trouble is, I made a promise to Mom that I’d never talk about him or tell anybody what he did. My dad, I mean. She made me promise I wouldn’t even say his name aloud, not even when she isn’t around.” Dakota shook his head slowly. “That was the day we went to court to change my last name to be the same as hers. We were both pretty angry back then.” As an afterthought he added, “My dad’s last name is Porter, not Conway.”

Pastor Henry nodded but made no comment.

“I promised Mom I’d do just what she wanted. But shouldn’t she know I’m gonna forgive him? And if I tell her, she’s going to be hurt. I know she will.”

Dakota imagined the look that would be in her eyes when he told her he was forgiving his dad. She would feel betrayed again, this time by her son. He hated the idea of causing her more pain. If only there was another way.

In a soft voice, the pastor said, “Maybe she’ll understand better than you think.”

“No, she won’t.” Dakota’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the frayed laces of his shoes.

“The Bible tells us to speak the truth in love.”

He nodded as he raised his eyes to meet the pastor’s gaze. “What if I tell her, and she still doesn’t want me to talk about him? What should I do if she wants to hold me to my old promise?”

“As long as what your mother asks isn’t contrary to the will of God, then you should honor her by obeying.”

“You mean, forgive him but still not mention him?”

Pastor Henry nodded.

“I could do that.” He released a sigh. “I just don’t know how I’ll tell her.”

“You’ll have to trust the Lord to guide you, Dakota. Let’s pray about it. Shall we?”

After nodding, he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and hoped God would speak really loud so he couldn’t miss hearing Him.

“But it won’t cost you anything, Sara. Dad and I will send you the airplane ticket. It will be one of our Christmas gifts to you. Won’t you at least consider coming home? We haven’t seen you in such a long time.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Sara answered. “Things are busy at work this time of year, and it’s tough to get extra time off around the holidays.”

Kristina Jennings wasn’t giving up that easily. “You won’t need time off. Christmas is on a Monday this year, and there are direct flights between Denver and Boise, so it won’t take you long to get here and back. You can fly to Boise on Friday after work and we can get you back to Denver on Christmas night. We’ve checked with our travel agent. There are still openings if we book right away, but they’re going fast. Please say yes, Sara. We miss you so much.”