Ashley awakened in the wee hours of the morning. Her first thought was about her brother. His sentencing was expected to happen soon, and she had yet to comply with her mom’s request to go to see him.
The idea filled her with resentment.
“Please, honey. You need to do this,” her mom had said last night. “He needs to see his sister.” That request had kept her awake past her usual bedtime, wrestling between guilt and frustration. And apparently it hadn’t let her sleep very long either.
She rolled onto her side, staring at the glow of the digital clock on her nightstand. Three thirty. Was her brother awake right now? Probably not. He was likely sound asleep, free of remorse.
Her anger flared. Why? Why must I always be the one to do something for Dylan? He did this to himself. Why can’t he do something for me for once?
The instant the thought formed, she felt shame. More than that, she felt something stir in her spirit. A sense that if she allowed the bitter feelings that consumed her to remain unchecked, if she continued to nurse resentment and distrust, she would lose something of great value. Perhaps it was crazy—she had no personal experience to draw upon—but she thought it might be God trying to speak to her.
And if she was honest with herself, He’d been speaking to her for a while. She just hadn’t wanted to listen.
“I’m not the one who needs help.” Wasn’t that what she’d tossed out to Ben the other day? It wasn’t her who needed fixing, right?
She’d been saying that for so long, she’d almost begun to believe it.
Almost . . .
Overwhelmed by the feelings swirling through her, she closed her eyes. “God,” she whispered. “I’m tired of feeling this way. Help me. If You have something to tell me . . . I’m listening.”
Five hours later, she drove into Boise, her stomach churning. She wasn’t sure of the reason. Was it anticipation or uncertainty? All she knew was that something had begun to change in her heart that morning, and it seemed very important that she allow God to finish what He’d started. Would she find her answers today in church? She hoped so. She’d certainly felt led to come.
The parking lot was filled with cars when she arrived. She pulled into the first open space she came to. As she dropped to the ground, she drew in a quick breath.
“Ashley?”
She turned at the sound of Ben’s voice, her pulse accelerating. “Hi.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here today.”
“I didn’t know for sure until this morning.” She gave him a swift smile. “But here I am.”
He tilted his head toward the building. “Come on, then. We’re both running late.”
Before they reached the front doors, Ashley heard singing coming from the sanctuary. She didn’t recognize the song. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of Christian worship music yet, although she’d started listening to one of the local Christian channels in recent weeks.
There were still a few people lingering in the large entry hall. Some sipping coffee. Some standing outside the bookstore. Two men seated near a stone fireplace, leaning toward each other, obviously in prayer. Something about the scene calmed her.
The sanctuary was dimly lit, except for the stage where the worship team performed. “This way,” Ben said, just loud enough for her to hear him above the music. He stepped in front of her and led the way to his grandfather. When they arrived, the older man’s eyes were closed as he sang. There were two vacant chairs beside him. “Those must be for us.” Ben stopped in front of the farthest one, giving Ashley the one between the two men.
Grant Henning opened his eyes, saw her, and smiled. Then, ever so briefly, he took her hand in his and squeezed it. His welcoming gesture warmed her, like that first sip of hot coffee on a chilly winter morning.
And somewhere, deep inside, she felt God welcoming her in a similar fashion.
* * *
Ben had been surprised when he saw Ashley getting out of her truck in the parking lot. She’d never committed to returning to his church, despite saying how much she’d liked her first visit. He hadn’t pressed her, despite how much he’d wished to do so. He knew better than that. While the wall she’d erected between them didn’t feel quite as impenetrable today as it had three weeks earlier, it was still there. Patience was his best friend for now. Nonetheless, he took it as a good sign that she was in church, of her own volition, standing between him and his grandfather.
He closed his eyes and joined the singing, praise welling inside of him.
It wasn’t easy, but Ben managed to keep his attention focused on the service instead of Ashley. Right up until the closing worship song. That’s when he realized Ashley was crying. She didn’t make a sound, and her head was bowed, hiding her face. And yet he knew. What should he do? Before he could find an answer to his own question, he saw his grandfather’s arm go around her shoulders. A moment later she turned and hid her face against the older man’s chest. Grandpa said something near her ear. She nodded but didn’t pull away.
Whatever it is You’re doing at this moment, God, whatever the reason for her tears, open Ashley’s heart and her mind to You. Even if she never wants me, help her to fall more in love with You and to find her comfort in Your presence.
Part of him wanted to take back the prayer. Not all of it. Just the “even if she never wants me” part. Ashley needed Jesus as everyone did. But Ben wanted her to need him too. He wanted her to fall in love with him. Still, there was no taking back the prayer. He sensed it was as much for himself as for her.
* * *
Ashley pulled up the collar of her coat as Remington picked her way along the trail. It was rutted in places and littered with various sizes of lava rock, but neither horse or rider minded. The desert was a good place to think, and they weren’t in a hurry. All was quiet except for the whistling wind. She let the buckskin have her head. Remington was smart enough to follow the trail with little guidance. As for the dogs, they were in canine heaven as they chased each other through the sagebrush.
It was Ashley’s experience at church that morning that consumed her thoughts. She didn’t know what equated to a miracle, but that’s what she would call what happened. She’d gone to church, hoping that God would finish changing her heart, and that was exactly what had happened. In those blessed moments, she’d shed fear and anger the same way she shed her coat after entering a warm house. The years and years of resentment she’d felt toward Dylan had dissipated. Fallen away. Gone. Healed. And with it had gone fear and distrust. The experience had left her shaken, relieved, and in tears.
She lifted her eyes. Clouds were blowing in, threatening a storm. For some reason, the weather made her think of Halloweens with her dad and Dylan. Dad had always been the one who walked with them around the neighborhood while they filled their little pumpkin buckets with miniature candies. She remembered the taste of Butterfingers and Milky Ways on her tongue, and the way her dad would take a few for himself. “Don’t tell your mom we all ate candy before we got home,” he’d warned with a grin. Of course, her mom had known. How could she not, given the smear of chocolate often left on someone’s chin? But it had been a fun game, all the same.
Pictures of the family filled her mind. So much joy. So much laughter. Ashley had adored her little brother at that age, and he’d adored her right back.
I forgive you, Dylan.
Her heart thrummed.
I forgive everything. I’m not angry anymore. Not anymore.