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CHAPTER 31

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“You’re mad now, aren’t you? I can tell you’re mad.” Sandy passed Carl his lunch from the restaurant and pulled out a few other snacks she had picked up during their shopping spree.

“I never said I was mad.” Carl’s voice was expressionless as he unwrapped his sandwich.

“Yeah, but I should have talked with you about it first. It’s just that I was telling Kennedy about Guy in the car, and I was thinking about Wayne and Noah never having a chance to reconcile before ... But still, it wasn’t right for me to jump in full-speed and start making ...”

“It’s not that, hon.” Carl reached out to stroke her cheek. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Tired of the hatred, the hypocrisy, the broken relationships. And I just can’t help feeling like somehow this is all my fault. Maybe if I’d talked about how we need to love each other more, accept one another where we’re at, maybe Wayne wouldn’t have been killed. If I’d preached more on the importance of grace in our lives, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” He shook his head.

Sandy rubbed his back. “You preach the word of the Lord. That’s all God’s ever called you to do.”

Carl hunched over his food. “I know that, sugar. At least my head knows that. But my heart ...”

Woong frowned. “Are you crying?”

Sandy gave him a shush and a bag of crackers. “Dad’s just sad, sweetie. That’s all.”

Carl nodded. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. “Yes, son, I’m sad. Sad that we live in a world where people are so full of hate. So full of violence. I’m sad that my own kid is forced to grow up in a world where parents would dream of disowning their child, no matter what the reason. I’m sad that we as the body of Christ would rather excommunicate a struggling member, gawk at his pain instead of walking beside him, try to guess his sorrows, try to make it our own. I’m sad that we Christians take one or two sins, the ones we think of as the really bad ones, and we crucify anyone who isn’t as righteous and upstanding as we are, while we ignore our own pride and arrogance and hypocrisy.” He sniffed and wrapped his arm around Woong, who surprisingly didn’t struggle free from his hold. “And I’m sad that my friend is dead.” He buried his face into Woong’s hair. Kennedy glanced away, certain this was a scene far too poignant, too intimate for anyone but family.

“Here.” Woong held out his bag of chips as an offering to his dad.

Carl kissed the top of his head, and Woong made a disgusted grimace.

“I love you, son,” Carl whispered. “And nothing you could ever do would make me even dream of shutting you out of my life.”

Something beeped, and Sandy pulled her phone out of her pocket.

She took a deep breath. “That’s Guy. He wants to know if we can get together for dinner on Thursday. He says he’d like to introduce us to our grandson.”