She stared at the envelope. Advertising.
Yet as she moved into the house, something made her stop and pick it up. She slit it open and gently removed the letter. It was simple, less than a page. Hannah began to read.
“Dear Mrs. Ryan, My name is Sgt. John Miller. I worked the accident scene the day your husband and daughter were killed. I came to your house with the news that day, and later I talked with you at the hospital. You may not remember me, but I remember you. For the past several months I’ve been thinking about the accident almost as if God wanted me to remember something.”
Hannah’s heart beat faster. What was this? Why now?
“This morning, I remembered what it was. I was with your husband in the minutes before he died, and he wanted me to give you a message. He wanted you to know he loved you and the girls—”
Hannah closed her eyes and remembered Dr. Cleary telling her Tom’s final words. Tears stung her eyes and she read on.
“—but there was something else. And that’s what I finally remembered this morning. At the time it didn’t make sense, and I figured he must have been hallucinating or suffering the effects of blood loss. But now I am convinced that I need to deliver his message to you in its entirety.
“Tom told me to tell you to forgive, Mrs. Ryan. He wanted you to forgive.”
Hannah’s eyes locked on the word, hearing it as Tom had spoken it years ago when Hannah was mad at the boy who beat her at basketball … and again years later when Tom reminded her there was no victory in holding a grudge against the girl he nearly married, no gain in hating her.…
“Forgive her, Hannah … let it go.” She heard it as clearly as if Tom was saying it to her.
Then, like a parade in her mind, Hannah recalled a dozen times Tom had told her that over the years. She closed her eyes, choking back a sob. And now … even after he’d been gone for so many months … he was telling her again.
Her eyes ran over the sentence until it was seared in her heart. “Tom told me to tell you to forgive, Mrs. Ryan.”
Forgive. Forgive. He wanted you to forgive.
She moved outside and sank into the porch swing along the side of the house. It was a private spot bordered by jasmine. Hannah knew Jenny wouldn’t come looking for her yet, and she was grateful. Her entire body was numb from the shock.
Tom had known.
He had laid there in the middle of the twisted wreckage of the Explorer, aware his minutes were numbered, and he had thought of her. The collision hadn’t been his fault, and he knew that someday, somehow, Hannah was going to hold his death against someone. He better than anyone knew what would happen then. And so his final words had been for her: Forgive, Hannah. Please forgive.
“I can’t, Tom, it’s not fair. I have a right to this …” Her voice was a tortured whisper as trails of tears made their way down her face. “He did it on purpose.”
But Tom’s words, his final message, remained.
Forgive, Hannah … forgive.
She wept, imagining her dying husband worrying about the condition of her heart. Did he know her that well? Did he know she would turn her back on God? That her unforgiving heart would force her to forfeit a relationship with the savior?
Hannah’s answer came from deep within.
Yes. Tom had known.
And God had placed it on Sgt. Miller’s heart until finally he remembered Tom’s words and brought them to her now.
She wept and prayed and fought the message. She did not want to forgive Brian Wesley. Indeed she would rather die than do such a vile thing. Eventually she crept back into the house and found Jenny napping on the sofa. Hannah found her Bible on the end table and carried it back outside.
Maybe there was something else in Lamentations, something she’d missed. After all, if Jeremiah had felt it was all right to be angry with his enemies, didn’t she have the same right? She had been in Scripture many times since the night in Jenny’s hospital room … but she had never finished Lamentations. She opened it now and began chapter 4 again, reaffirming her reasons for asking God to pay back Brian Wesley and curse him.
Then she read chapter 5. At first the lament sounded familiar, similar to the rest of the book. Then her eyes fell on something that caused her heart to skip a beat.
“Joy is gone from our hearts; our dancing has turned to mourning. The crown has fallen from our head. Woe to us, for we have sinned! … Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may return; renew our days as of old unless you have utterly rejected us and are angry with us beyond measure.”
Hannah stared at the words as the reality hit. We have sinned … restore us … angry with us. Jeremiah and his people had suffered great loss. They had been victims in every possible way, yet at the end of the book of Lamentations Jeremiah was confessing sin. Repenting. Apologizing. Asking God to restore him and his people and hoping God would not be too angry with them.
Hannah searched her heart and tried to imagine what she had done wrong, what sin she had committed that could possibly require repentance. She had made things right with Jenny. What else was there?
Again, as though Tom were standing before her, she heard the words: Forgive, Hannah … forgive.
Tom’s words pierced her heart. She was guilty after all.
With a heart so troubled she thought she might die from the pain, she began to pray, wondering, like Jeremiah, if it was too late, if she had made God too angry.
Scripture memorized years ago came rushing back.
“Forgive and you will be forgiven … If you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins … forgive as the Lord forgave you.”
Hannah closed her eyes and let the truth wash over her. As it did, she read Sgt. Miller’s letter once more, hearing Tom’s voice as he spoke his words of love to her. She sighed heavily, folded the letter, and stood on wobbly legs.
She knew what she had to do … and she was fairly certain it would kill her. But it was what Tom wanted. What God wanted. It was just a matter of doing it.
Making her way to the kitchen telephone, Hannah lifted the receiver and took the first step.
A woman answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
Hannah paused. “Carol, it’s Hannah. I have something to tell you.…”
Thirty-six
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
LAMENTATIONS 3:22–23
A warm breeze picked up speed across a dirty, vacant field and brushed over Jenny and the tall man sitting beside her. Bits of trash and dirty cigarette butts mixed within the weeds that grew from cracks in the asphalt, and Jenny wondered what it was like inside. She was quiet, hands folded in her lap as she turned once more to watch the visitor entrance.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” She looked at Matt Bronzan. He’d had so many of the answers they’d needed over the last year … she was sure he had this one, too.
He turned toward her and leaned over, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Takes a while to get through security.”
Jenny nodded. There were dozens of strange characters scattered throughout the outdoor waiting area. Occasionally someone would come from inside with a small bag of belongings and wander off toward a dirty, graffiti-covered bus stop. The freeway was only a hundred yards away, and the grime and pollution of inner-city life filled the air.
None of it mattered, though, with Matt beside her. She moved closer to him and sighed. “Sometimes I miss Daddy and Alicia so much.…”
Matt nodded. “There’ll always be times.”
There was an easy silence between them.
“Matt …” Jenny studied his eyes intently. She’d wanted to ask this question for the last three months, ever since she saw him hug her mother … well, in that way. “Can I ask you a question?”
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“Sure.” Matt smiled at her.
“Do you love my Mom?”
His expression changed and he sat straighter. His eyes looked suddenly bright, and she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. “Well, young lady, where did that come from?”
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re here, aren’t you?”
Matt nodded and stroked his chin with his thumb. “You have a point there.”
Jenny giggled. “It’s okay. I like you being here.”
Matt leaned closer, and a pang went through her. His eyes were so full of wisdom. Just like her dad’s eyes had been.…
“Let’s make it our secret for now, okay?”
She grinned. “So I’m right? You do love her?”
Matt shook a playful finger at her. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m the lawyer, remember?”
Jenny laughed again. It felt so good to laugh. “Okay, you win. I won’t say anything.”
“You’re a good girl, Jenny Ryan.”
She met his eyes again. “But you do love her—”
“Jenny …”
She felt her grin widen at the teasing threat in his tone. This was going to be fun. She hugged herself, then her smile faded. Biting her lip, she glanced up at him. “I know it’s too soon to tell the future … but Matt, please don’t ever go away.”
He stared at her, and she felt the warmth of his love—of Christ’s love—surround her.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jenny. You can count on that.”
“Promise?” She felt like a little girl, clinging to all she had left in the world.
Matt put an arm around her and pulled her close. She snuggled against him, smiling as his answer washed over her. “Promise.”
Hannah had moved through several levels of security and now she was in a holding chamber, waiting for the signal. She thumbed through her Bible and found the letter from Sgt. Miller. She had made the appointment six weeks ago, now she had to follow through. And yet she still felt like she wore shackles on her feet, chains around her wrists.…
She wanted to forgive, really. But she was having trouble seeing Brian Wesley as worthy. Even now. Forgiveness was Tom’s gift, not hers.
A heavy steel door opened and a uniformed officer stepped into the waiting room. “Mrs. Ryan?”
Hannah stood. “Yes?”
“We’re ready for you.” He looked at her Bible. “You’ll have to leave all your belongings with me.”
Hannah nodded and did as she was told.
“Right this way.”
She followed, feeling as if she were being led to the executioner’s block.
The deputy stopped at a door with barred windows and opened it with a key. He stared at the prisoner shackled to a chair inside then turned to Hannah. “Ten minutes.”
Hannah stepped inside, refusing to look at him. Not yet. She stared at the floor and found a seat at the simple, pressed wood table. She could see his feet, just across from her. Help me, God. I still want to choke him, hit him, make him suffer for what he did.
Forgive … forgive, Hannah.
She squeezed her eyes shut and felt two tears slither down her cheeks. She swallowed. Please, God. Give me strength. It was now or never. She had just ten minutes.
He interrupted her thoughts. “You … you wanted to see me?”
Hannah lifted her head and met his eyes—and gasped softly. In that moment she didn’t see the eyes of an alcoholic, of a killer. She saw Tom Ryan’s eyes … gentle, spirit-filled eyes.
The unmistakable eyes of a godly man.
In the face of those eyes, Hannah did the only thing she could do: she broke down and wept.
Brian shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure what to say.
The minutes were getting by, and Hannah knew it was time. She fought for control over her tears and wiped her eyes. “You told me … at the sentencing that you were sorry.”
He hung his head, and an errant tear slipped onto the table. “I am sorry, Mrs. Ryan. Every day … every minute.”
Hannah nodded. Her stomach was in knots and she swallowed hard. And now she knew why she’d felt shackled. She had been locked in a prison of bitterness and hate, and only Tom’s dying words had reminded her of God’s truth: “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free …”
Free. She longed to be free. At peace.
She had lived in the dark prison of hate for too long. The way out was right in front of her. She took a deep breath.
“I forgive you, Brian.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “It is what my husband wanted … what God wants. And now, it’s what I want, too.”
The words were no sooner past her lips than she felt it … a rush of peace so real, so sweet and comforting, that it took her breath away. It coursed through her entire body, and she felt like a wind-up toy whose workings had been fully released.…
She settled back into her chair, the tension she’d felt earlier completely gone.
This was what she’d waited months to feel, and she chuckled softly. How ironic that it was here, locked in a boxy room face to face with Brian Wesley, that she felt more peace than at any time since her life had been ravaged by the accident. Her smile broadened. How pleased Tom would be if he could see this. A second wave of peace washed over her.
He could.
Brian’s mouth hung open, and he looked from side to side, as though this might all be some kind of joke. Fumbling with his fingers, he began speaking in quick jerky sentences. “You don’t … you don’t have to forgive me, Mrs. Ryan. Really … It was my fault. All my fault.… You don’t need to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t—”
Hannah held up a hand, and he fell silent. “None of us deserves it, Brian. This wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I understand now that no matter what you did, Carol was right. Jesus loves you, and … he wants me to forgive you. For your sake. And for mine.”
Hannah felt God urging her to go one step further, and she did so without hesitation. “I believe you mean what you say, that you’re sorry and you never want to hurt anyone else the way you hurt me.” She paused, amazed at how easily the next words were coming. “I want to pray with you, Brian.”
His eyes grew wide. “Carol told me crazy things would happen if I gave my life to the Lord, but I never … not this crazy—”
Hannah smiled, wanting to weep all over again. How much time she’d wasted.… “We serve an amazing God. I’ve had to learn that the hard way.” She reached toward him and held out her hands, palms up. Slowly, almost reverently, he placed his shackled hands in hers. She closed her fingers around them, the hands that had slapped money down on a bar fourteen months ago, hands that had raised one drink after another to his lips until he was too drunk even to walk a straight line, hands that turned a key in the ignition and steered a truck through a red light into the side of her family’s Explorer.
They were the hands of a killer, but Hannah held them warmly. As she did, she felt only freedom, and her heart soared with hope. She bowed her head.
“Lord, thank you for this meeting, for bringing me to this point in my life.” There were tears in her eyes and she swallowed hard. “You know what I’ve been through … what has led me to this decision. And you know that I am sincere when I say I forgive Brian.
“Please be with him now, Lord. He has a long time to spend in prison and … and I pray you use him to touch the lives of others around him.” She paused as a sob caught in her throat. “Help him forgive himself, Lord. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
There was a knock on the door, and the deputy walked in. “Time’s up.”
Hannah squeezed Brian’s hands, and he looked deep into her eyes. “Thank you, Mrs. Ryan.”
She pointed heavenward and nodded as she stood to leave.
Without looking back she followed the deputy down the hallway. Her battle against drunk driving was not over. She had her priorities straight now, but she knew, as long as she drew breath, she would stay involved in the fight for tougher laws and grea
ter awareness.
Ahead sunlight flooded the jail, and Hannah was overcome with the need to be back outside, where her future waited. She peered through the double glass doors, and among the sea of people waiting in the lobby, she saw them looking for her. Matt had a protective arm around Jenny. She ached knowing that Tom would never again be there to protect their daughter. But the fact remained that there would be times when the girl needed protecting. This was one of those times.… Matt was here and he was real. As she made her way to them, she thanked God for his presence in their lives.
They both saw her at the same instant, and another sob caught in Hannah’s throat once they were all together. There were tears in both Matt’s and Jenny’s eyes as they looked at her expectantly.
“Well?” Jenny took a step closer and hugged her gently, laying her head on Hannah’s chest.
Hannah nodded. “I did it—” Her voice broke, and she hung her head as Matt put his arms around both her and Jenny in an embrace that needed no words.
It felt as though a horrible chapter in her life was finally over. As freeing as it had been to go to Brian, to forgive him, the reality of what had just transpired left her drained.
They held each other for a while, connected in every way that mattered, until finally Hannah stopped crying and caught her breath. “I have a crazy thing I want us to do.” She looked from Jenny to Matt.
“What?” Jenny wiped her cheeks with her sweater sleeves and looked confused. “I thought you’d wanna talk about Brian and whatever happened in there.”
Matt raised a curious eyebrow, and Hannah caught his gaze and held it. “Later. I promise. But right now I want you to sing with me. Please. Both of you.”
“Sing?” Matt still had one arm around Hannah, one around Jenny.
Hannah nodded. “My song. ‘Great Is Thy Faithfulness.’ ”
A look of understanding filled Matt’s eyes, and he bowed his head. Then in a voice that was both quiet and strong, he began to sing.
And there, in the midst of bedraggled prisoners struggling with their first moments of freedom and hollow-eyed parents waiting and wondering where they went wrong, the song began to build.
Waiting for Morning Page 33
