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Assisting Eli with the youth the previous night at church gave Roland a sense of value—something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. Since the day he gave his heart to Jesus, he was secure in knowing fully well his steps were directed, and tonight in the session with the boys was proof enough for him. Before Roland had entered the room with a dozen or so young men, he offered a silent prayer not to say anything to discourage but speak so they’d understand.
And he did just that.
Each young man was given the opportunity to ask questions or join in the lesson. Roland added his perspective on a few comments to aid two boys in understanding part of the passage Eli taught, and to his amazement, his input was encouraging to the boys. Just as he hoped.
Could I teach? I never saw myself as a teacher. Is this my new beginning? Roland rubbed his forehead. He smiled to himself, but then his past etched itself across his mind, and the smile surrendered to a frown. The hope of a new start dangled before him like a carrot enticing a mule to step forward. With the humiliation of a dishonorable discharge, then when released from the military prison, he’d wandered aimlessly across the country searching for answers—answers he knew wouldn’t be made known soon. But now, hope sprung within him of a fresh start, even though it was in his hometown.
At an early age, he’d resolved to let the Lord lead him in every circumstance. After leaving home with a knee-jerk reaction, he logged many miles on his feet and heart. One thing was sure: he was led back to his childhood home, so he must do his part after the endless nudge he received the last several months. And today, here he was in his hometown, about to start fresh. When the timing was right, everything would be revealed. For now, he enjoyed the comforts of the soft bed, warm shelter, and hot meals—all thanks to Eli and Cheryl.
Roland thumbed the pages of his Bible. It fell open to Philippians four, and his gaze pinned on the marked passage in verse nineteen, “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus.”
He lowered onto his knees and bowed his head. “I can’t ask for anything more than what You’ve shown and provided me since setting me on this path. Please continue to do so. I hold steadfast to Your Word and teachings. Thank You, Father. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Roland glanced at the clock above the microwave. Would he have money to buy food to stock the mini-fridge? He didn’t want to continue to eat at his host’s house. Their benevolence was overwhelming with just a place to live. Pulling the jacket off the peg, he shrugged it on, withdrew a toboggan from the pocket, and dragged it down over his ears. The barber did a good enough job with the haircut, but Roland wasn’t accustomed to his ears being so exposed to the weather—he found that out last night when he was in the cold.
After he gathered the completed list of his experiences for the resumé Pastor Eli could create, he clicked the door shut and turned the lock. He needed a job. Nothing short of yet another miracle would do to find employment in this small town—exactly what had been done and continued to do as of late.
The overnight above-freezing temperatures melted most of the snow and ice, leaving the streets somewhat clear, with a few patches on the sidewalks and curbs. With only a few vehicles traversing the road this late morning, Roland nevertheless watched his surroundings—a forced habit from his previous life, although the short walk to the church was uneventful.
Faint memories of Winston and himself as kids played across his mind—snowball fights, snow angels, and sledding were the main activities during their winter breaks from school. “Brother, I hope you haven’t completely disowned me, and our relationship can be repaired.” A heavy sigh billowed from his chapped lips.
With one foot on the church’s bottom step, his gaze followed upward toward the tall steeple. The sun peek from behind a cloud—sunrays jetted as if it backlit the cross while it sliced a beautiful display across the sky. He gasped. Then the cloud covered the sun once more.
Roland swallowed hard, climbed the three steps, and pushed open the side door. A small sign on the wall directed him down a hall to reach the office. As he drew closer, a man’s firm but gentle voice echoed the same passion he had heard as a youth. He stopped short of entering. Easing the door a bit open, he listened. He wanted to hear the entire message now, not on Sunday morning. Was he ready to face the congregation and his family?
Tears flooded his cheeks when the pastor referred to Jesus’ parable in Luke 15 about the prodigal son. Was this parable about me? No, I didn’t seek adventure, wealth, or the world’s pleasures. I sought to escape the abuse and felt unwanted. What am I doing? I don’t belong with these people. He turned on his heels and headed toward the door.
“Roland. Glad you made it. Come to my office, and we’ll get started on your resumé.”
He turned and faced Eli. “Pastor, are you sure I’ll be accepted back? I heard you practice your sermon. You’re right. I disappointed my family and anyone who associates with me.” He lowered his gaze to the pair of boots gifted by the shelter.
“Nonsense. You’re a child of God and a brother to all in our church. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re loved by Jesus because He is love, not because you’re lovable. Remember that when challenges and struggles overwhelm your identity. Take comfort in knowing everyone sins and falls short. He forgave and nailed all your sins when He died on the cross. He said, ‘It is finished.’ Some people ignore how much He suffered for them, but the plain fact is they don’t want to be convicted for their ongoing sins. His death is a reminder, and they can’t face reality about His torment and the gruesomeness He withstood on the cross because of them.”
Roland shook Eli’s hand. “Thank you. Let’s get me ready to join the community, church, and, eventually, my family. I’ve been away too long from all three, but I never let my faith waver. I figured my struggles are for a reason, and He’ll reveal everything in His perfect timing. God is good.”
Eli smiled. “Yes. He is good all the time. Now, I have a few things to talk over with you. Let’s go to my office.”
Eli’s wife, Cheryl, had left a message with Renee, wanting to have a ‘little chat,’ as she called it, with Jeanne. Back home in Hopewell, at her church, Jeanne had never heard of a pastor’s wife who wanted to visit with a female member unless they needed to be advised about a behavior problem. What was the woman’s motive? Jeanne was not a church member here. Was she trying to persuade her to stay in Grove Hill? If that was so, it wouldn’t take much. Her summer visits with Renee, Winston, and their two adorable children had tugged at her often. But would her parents agree if she did want to move here? She shook off the nonsense—she was too practical to believe they would, and besides, what would be the reason to stay.
During the previous evening’s devotional, she heard the Lord directing her to accept the pastor’s wife’s invitation. Jeanne smiled inwardly about how she’d been guided differently through His Word or people. She never wanted Him to be silent again.
Renee handed her two papers—directions to Cheryl’s house and a grocery list. Jeanne shrugged on her coat and poked both into the pocket. “Be careful on your drive. The streets may have a few patches of ice left. Have a long visit with Cheryl before you head to the store.”
“I will. Don’t worry, sis.” Jeanne drew her into a warm sisterly hug before heading out the door to the car. Renee entrusted her with the vehicle, and she didn’t want to give her sister any doubt about her driving abilities. On her way to the car, she noted the chill still hung in the air as a reminder winter had begun a bit early.
Renee had baked all morning to fill a tin container to take along for her visit. She set the cookies in the passenger seat. The delicious aroma of oatmeal raisin cookies filled the car’s interior—like being enveloped in cookie heaven.
Following the paper’s directions, she cautiously maneuvered through the residential streets and pulled in front of the house bearing the address. She grabbed the tasty treats and headed toward the front door.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, the northern wind cut through her coat, and she hurried toward the front door. The plain, nondescript front façade and porch were what she had expected since Pastor Eli and Cheryl lived in the church’s parsonage. Jeanne had listened intently to one of his sermons on her last summer visit. The pastor said that “no one in this world is beneath him. Instead, we are all equal in the eyes of our Lord.” The foyer displayed a beautiful, hand-painted picture of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet.
Sister Cheryl’s lovely smile greeted her at the front door. “Come in. Good morning, Jeanne. I’m glad you’re here. Did you have any problem finding the house? Let me take your coat.”
“No trouble at all, ma’am. It’s a few miles from my sister’s place.” Cheryl assisted Jeanne with the jacket and hung it on a peg beside the door. “Thank you for inviting me. I’m not sure why I’m here?” Her brow furrowed, waiting for some sort of corrective response.
“Please call me Cheryl.” The woman beckoned her to follow. She trailed behind her hostess to the kitchen. “Renee baked us a treat—oatmeal raisin cookies. I have always enjoyed her cookies with a tall glass of cold milk,” she chuckled.
“Oh, how sweet of Renee. I’ll thank her with a note. Did you want milk in place of the tea with our treat?”
“No, tea will be fine. I’m not quite used to this kinda weather. Besides, it’ll break the chill off my cold bones. It’s a little warmer back home, and we never have below-freezing temperatures for long.”
“Yeah. The winters here are difficult. They take some getting used to. Renee’s been a delight and a blessing to our church and the community. I see her faith growing more each year. I’m sorry about her mother-in-law’s passing. How’s the family?” She touched Jeanne’s arm. “Were you close to Mrs. Bryson?”
Jeanne shook her head. “No, I wasn’t, but my sister was. Sometimes they are fine and then other times....” She fiddled with a loose thread on her pink sweater. “Renee nursed her until the end. She shared with me that her last hours were peaceful. Mrs. Bryson...well, just before her passing, she smiled as if Jesus had taken her hand and led her home. My heart broke when her youngest son wasn’t there to see her off on her journey.” Jeanne smiled and met Cheryl’s gaze. “She’s truly at home with Jesus.”
Cheryl nodded and gestured toward the kitchen table. “Please, have a seat, and I’ll get our tea ready.” She filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “Have you considered remaining in Grove Hill or returning home anytime soon?”
Jeanne pried off the cookie lid and slid it beneath the container. “I’m not sure yet.” She set the tin in the middle of the table and lowered herself onto the chair. “My parents expect me back home to marry a boy from our community—sorry, from our church. But no guy has captured my eye. I’ve never understood the church’s beliefs and traditions, or am I a little rebellious? Either way, I feel more comfortable when I visit your church. Renee tells me that even though both are of the same denomination, our traditions are different. So far, with the limited visits, I’ve enjoyed your husband’s sermons. At home, I feel like I’m being forced to abide by antiquated church laws. Does your church hold to the stringent belief about each child obeying their parents?”
Cheryl turned from the stove with the kettle and a tea box decorated in a brightly colored floral design. She set them next to the cookies and sat across from her. “The commandment you’re referring to does mean we should honor your mother and father. Honoring and obeying are close cousins. When you honor your parents, you will obey them. It’s the same with God. When we honor the Lord through our works that He leads us to do and be compassionate and loving others, we will obey His Word and commandments without a second thought.
“But our works are never a path to heaven. Jesus paid the price for us. We only need to accept Him into our hearts and believe. God loves His children and gives us free will, but we shouldn’t abuse our free will by not honoring and respecting those who He has put over us in life. Now, if you’re referring to being forced to live an oppressive life at the hand of someone abusing you, then that’s altogether different.”
Cheryl gently laid her hand on Jeanne’s arm and pinned her gaze on her. “Are you being abused? Has someone stolen your voice by intimidation, making you fear the consequences of speaking up? Don’t hold back. You can tell me, sister.”
“No, not at all. Growing up in my father’s house, we—I mean us children—were taught that we must obey. Father would quote the commandment when he thought we did something against it. I read that verse for myself one day and read it as honor, not obey. Am I wrong to think he’s misquoting the commandment in order to keep a handle on all his children so that we won’t stray from the family, or does he want to control us? I’m the last child at home. It makes me think I’m an embarrassment to him because I’m not married yet like my siblings. Never have I caused Dad or Mom any concern over my actions or deeds. That’s why I’m confused.”
“You will never be left in a place of doubt and despair. Jesus is with us, and we will go through these things, but seek His Word for direction. He’s the only one that knows when it’s time for you to move into another season of your life.” Cheryl patted her hand. “Saying something contradicting your father’s or pastor’s teachings isn’t the best idea. Have you prayed about your apprehensions?”
“Yes, I have, but I’m not getting any answers. I want to talk to Renee about this, but she has a lot on her plate with Winston, the business, and the kids—not to mention the grief they’re going through. I don’t want to burden her with a lot of silly questions.”
“Your questions are not silly. Whatever you’re concerned about, He is, too. I think you have some other things happening back home, to let this one interpretation sidetrack you. Let me share with you something in Isaiah forty-three. You probably already know that Isaiah was one of God’s prophets and spoke to the Israelites. I’m not quoting verbatim, but the verse said something like, forget the former things and don’t dwell on the past. He’s making a new thing. Read that chapter in your quiet time and continue to pray, and you’ll find the right time to talk with Renee. The woman is smart. Besides, she may have more insight into the family than you’re unaware of.”
“Yes—”
A soft rap from a nearby door interrupted the conversation. Cheryl held up a finger. “Excuse me.” She rose and stepped over to a door that Jeanne had not noticed as an entrance. She clicked the deadbolt, and Roland Bryson appeared on the other side of the threshold with his arms full of clothes.
“Sister Cheryl, may I wash—”
Jeanne turned sideways in her seat, her gaze locked onto a pair of unmistakably familiar blue-violet eyes. Her hand flew to her chest when her heart performed a strange shudder, a shockwave that echoed throughout her body. Oh, my. What just happened? Never has a man affected me like this. I know him, but does he recognize me?