”I’m sure she is, but she won’t discuss it. She’s angry, too.” He stopped, staring over the pastor’s head. “I know the signs.”
“Do you suppose that’s why she won’t talk with you? She’s feeling guilty about Bruce’s death—and doubly where you’re concerned? How are you doing, by the way?”
John had run a hand through his hair. “It’s hard. Hard to think about Bruce. He’d become a real friend. But it’s different this time. Different from when Janice died. I’ve made peace with God’s sovereignty. I can’t say I wasn’t angry for a while.”
Alan nodded. He’d noticed that. Noticed, also, when it left.
“I guess at first, I wasn’t what Sharee needed. So, when she kept putting off seeing me that first week or two, I wasn’t upset. I tried to help, but I was dealing with my own stuff. I should have been there for her. Earlier. I was almost glad when she went home with her parents. But within a week, I knew. She was having a harder time than I was, and that turned me around.”
“But she still won’t see you?”
His hand pushed the hair back again. “I wondered, you know, if she blamed me. Why didn’t I see that Janice’s mom was so…unbalanced after Janice died? Sharee went through a lot. If I’d suspected…”
“The blame game never ends. And never accomplishes anything. Don’t take that up.”
“Sharee needs help, Alan, but I can’t reach her. I know the barrenness that anger and unforgiveness can bring into your life. I’ve come to a point where I trust in God’s goodness, his righteousness. I don’t always like what God…allows…but I trust. That’s something she taught me.” The dark brows drew together. “And now she’s struggling. Maybe she’ll talk with you. In fact, I’ll insist. I gave her two weeks to be alone, and they’re almost up. If she doesn’t want me parked on her doorstep, then she’ll need to talk with you.”
So, she made her way across the parking lot. Coerced. Not a good way to start a counseling session.
She glanced towards the sanctuary and stopped. China stood close to John, talking. The girl had shown up a short time ago and planted herself at John’s side. John brushed paint on the large wooden doors that fronted the church, and China leaned toward him, laughing. He wondered how it made Sharee feel—seeing John and China together. Would it spark something to make her reach out to John?
A moment later, she turned away and headed to the office. She didn’t see John’s glance in her direction, or the way his eyes followed her. Alan opened the door for her before she reached it.
“John said you’d like to talk with me.” Her voice sounded stiff, wary.
He nodded. He indicated his back office and moved around to sit at his desk. Her reserve and the awkwardness she exhibited was alien to their relationship.
“Yes, I did. How are you doing?”
She took a seat across from him. “Okay. I’m getting there, I guess.”
The listless, monotone of her voice bothered him. He waited a minute, studying her. “You’ve been through a lot. No one expects you to get through something like this in a hurry.”
“Yeah.”
“And how’s John doing?” He knew, but he wanted to hear it from her.
“Right now? I think he’s doing okay. But he and Bruce had developed a close friendship. I don’t know how he feels about me being responsible for Bruce’s death. He mentioned once that he feels responsible himself.” She shook her head. “You know how he is. He said he blames himself for putting me in danger, for Bruce dying, because it was his mother-in-law. His former mother-in-law. He says he should have known. Of course, that’s crazy. She’s to blame.”
Pastor Alan leaned toward her and sent a silent prayer to God. He’d heard the bitterness. “Sharee.” He kept his voice low, soft. “At some point, you will have to find it within yourself to forgive her.”
Sharee’s face flushed. “She tried to kill me, to kill John. She killed Bruce.”
“Did she? We’re all blaming ourselves. I got to the church about the same time as Bruce did that day, but I stopped to call 911. I should have been with Bruce when he went barreling down the path to save you. He’s the one who figured out what was going on.”
“You said that before, but it didn’t make sense.”
“Daneen and I received a call from a woman saying her son had threatened to commit suicide. She wanted us to come talk with him. Bruce was in the office, and since he had dealt with thoughts of suicide himself, he offered to go with us. We pulled up at the house and knocked on the door, but no one answered. Then John pulled up. He’d gotten a call for him to meet us there. Well, a light went off in Bruce’s head. Sure, someone would call for me and Daneen to come talk with them if they were feeling suicidal, but no one would call John. I mean, most people think of him as just the maintenance man. They don’t know the call God has put on his life. So, it didn’t make sense to Bruce. He wanted to know why anyone would want us all away from the church.”
“And he thought of me. Why?”
“Because you were the one targeted most times. Because someone had gone to the trouble of making sure John was out of the way. Bruce said instantly that you must be in trouble—and that you were probably at the church.”
“Why did he think that?”
“Because Daneen and I were called away. No one would be there. I’d never seen him move so fast. He was back in his van before John and I figured out all that he was saying. We’d come in different cars. Bruce preferred to drive his, you know. It was equipped for him. We raced back to the church. Bruce got here first. He was out of the van, in his wheelchair, when I drove up. He yelled for me to call 911, and like an idiot, I took the time to call. I should have gone with him.”
“The police said he flew right off the path and into the water to knock her off me.”
“Yes.”
“That was amazing.”
“You were both close to the edge, or it wouldn’t have made any difference. As it was, it was a miracle.”
She put her head down. “A miracle? For me but not for Bruce. I…it hurts to think about it.”
“If John hadn’t insisted we build that path around the field for him to practice racing that wheelchair, if it hadn’t climbed the hill to the edge of the pond, he’d never made it to save you. He flew up that path and launched himself and that wheelchair right into the water. It was a miracle.”
Tears flooded her eyes. He reached across and patted her hand.
“Sharee, it’s all right to cry. It’s all right to be sad and mad and wretched, but it’s not all right to stay there.”
Sharee covered her face with her hands. Her voice broke as she said, “I left him. I let go. To get her.”
He rose, came from behind the desk and touched her shoulder. “You did what you had to do. You had to make a choice. Two people needed you. Bruce was right. You needed to save her—in more ways than one. It’s why you need to forgive her. She needs to know God.”
“I can’t stand to think of it.” She cried into her palms. “I can’t.”
Alan bent down and took her hands from her face and looked at her. “Sharee, you can. God will do that for you. You need to remember what you told us that day. You did what Bruce told you to do. Ultimately, it was what God wanted you to do.”
She shook her hands free. “How can you say that?”
“You know how I can say it. It’s true.”
Daneen had slipped into the room. She touched Sharee’s shoulder. Sharee began to shake. She covered her face once more. Sobs racked her. Daneen bent close and held her. Alan sat back and waited. In a few moments, the sobs ceased. He handed her a bunch of tissue from the ever-present box on his desk.
“You can say you’re angry with Lorraine, but, actually, you’re angry with God. Aren’t you?”
She blew her nose and looked at him.
“Face it, Sharee. God didn’t do what you wanted. He could have saved them both. And neither you nor I knows why he didn’t.”
Sharee
put her hands over her ears. “It hurts. It hurts too much.”
“Let me tell you this. Bruce prayed everyday for you and John. For your safety, for the ministry that God has set before you, that Satan’s schemes would be foiled. And physically, he exercised every day. He raced that crazy wheelchair around here all the time. We all thought he was going to race in some paralympic games, but the race was different from that. He raced to save your life. The real exercise, though, was spiritual. He sought his Creator like he never had before.” He let the words hang and squatted down in front of her. “I have to ask you a question, Sharee. What kind of Christian are you?”
He felt the movement from his wife and turned his head. Careful, she mouthed.
Pray, he mouthed back. She nodded. He lifted his own silent prayer.
“Sharee, are you going to let Bruce’s sacrifice be for nothing? Do you remember telling me what you said to John a few months ago? You told John that if anything happened to you, like what happened to Janice that he was not to get mad at God again, not to leave the ministry, but to go on serving God? You said that the God we serve is worthy of that kind of love and devotion. Do you remember that?”
“Y…yes.”
“Well, how easy was that to say? Without thinking that you might be the one to face such a situation?”
Sharee’s eyes closed.
“If you don’t forgive Lorraine, if you don’t forgive yourself, and don’t forgive God because He didn’t do what you wanted then you will destroy your ministry. Oh, you and John might still get married, still go to Indonesia; but the joy and the love of the ministry will be gone. John might not even realize for a while that you’ve changed; but you will know...inside.”
“Alan,” his wife warned.
He didn’t look up. “She’s not a child, Daneen. She knows her God—and the Word. Don’t you, Sharee?” Sharee dropped her head. “But you’ve never had to face this type of reality before. You have a choice to make. We’ll still love you, you know that. John will still love you. God will still love you, but if you make the wrong choice, your soul will be torn.”
Her head rose.
“You have a choice,” he repeated. “Don’t worry about the feelings. I didn’t say you had to feel like it. I said you had to make a choice. The feelings will follow. Some day when you least expect it, God will open your heart and pour in the feelings.”
“I know.” Her voice was low. “I know that.”
“Sharee, forgive yourself. It was Bruce’s choice, after all. His sacrifice. Think about that.”
Daneen took her husband’s hand and indicated the door to the outer office. “Give her time.” She mouthed to him.
He rose. His hand brushed Sharee’s shoulder. They moved through to the outer office.
***
“God, where were you?” The cry escaped her mouth almost before the other two left.
I was with you. Not words aloud, but a still, small voice—somewhere inside.
“But I left Bruce, and he died.”
I was with him.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. Was this bitterness and anger she felt so dangerous? “How can I forgive her? How can I forgive myself?”
No answer, but she knew. Alan was right. She knew she had to take the first step. She didn’t want to do it. She remembered John saying how he had not wanted to forgive Dean.
How arrogant was I that day, Lord? Because I was able to forgive Dean, and he wasn’t? And now? How am I going to forgive her? Why should I forgive her? She tried to kill me, to kill John. Her heart felt like a hard ball within her chest.
When you stand praying, forgive…
I don’t want to. She sighed. How many times had John teased her about being stubborn? She’d never thought she was until now.
“She doesn’t deserve forgiveness.” Her heart heaved, moved inside her chest. Neither do I. Her mind went back to Pastor Alan’s sermon. Bruce died for her.
I died for her.
Shocked, she sat upright. Jesus died for Lorraine Wicker—just as he’d died for her or Bruce or John.
She took a trembling breath. I don’t feel it, but okay, Lord. Okay. I’m willing. Something hard and ugly gave way inside her. She put a hand to her chest and sat in silence for awhile.
Looking up to the ceiling, she took another long breath. “Forgive me for being angry, bitter, and unforgiving. Help me come back to you.”
The air softened around her, like butterfly wings. Tears pooled again. She sat still, feeling Him speak to her without words. Love, she thought with recognition. Love… mercy… grace. She lowered her head and cried.
The pain still simmered inside, but with a difference. She knew she’d have to this again. Each time she thought about it, she’d have to forgive again. Fear flew through her. What if I can’t? What if I don’t want to—tomorrow or the next day? The depth of her powerlessness startled her.
“Lord, I’m willing; but I need help.”
She heard the butterfly wings again, and she caught her hands to her chest as if holding onto the Spirit inside. Another sound came—from the doorway. She turned.
John stood there. His gaze met hers, and in one step, he crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
Chapter 16
The wedding was, after all, not as rushed as Marilyn Jones had feared, or as hasty as Lynn’s nightmares. Sharee stared at her reflection in the mirror. She and John and the congregation had needed time to process Bruce’s death, to allow for healing, and to laugh again.
She had circled the date on the calendar—Saturday, September 15th.
Now, she stood perspiring and nervous in front of this full-length mirror at the church. Ryann and Abbey brought the wedding dress over. It slid over her head and down past her shoulders.
“Wait, wait!” Abbey said. “Be careful, Ryann.”
They settled the strapless gown around her, and Ryann held the back closed. Abbey pulled up the long zipper.
Marci and Christy had left to finish their own dressing. Sharee glanced at her mom who stood by the mirror, tears welling in her eyes.
Sharee touched her arm. “Are you all right, Mom?”
Her mother swiped at the tears and smiled. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe this day is here. You’re getting married.”
“I know.” She swirled around, the gown’s A-line skirt billowing around her. “But could you find out where the thermostat is for this room and turn it cooler?”
Her mom wiped her eyes. “Yes. Okay. But you look so beautiful. John won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
“They say all brides look beautiful, just like all babies do.”
“Tell her she looks beautiful, girls.” Her mom headed toward the door, and Ryann and Abbey murmured their agreement.
“You do, and the dress is gorgeous, too.” Ryann said as she eyed the yards of white material highlighted with lace and beads and sequins.
Lynn rushed in with her flowers, followed quickly by John’s sister, Alexis. They both stopped and stared at Sharee.
“You look amazing!” Lynn said.
John’s sister gave her a big hug. “You really do. Wait until John sees you.”
“And look at your flowers. I thought they’d never get here. I had to send Ryann’s father over with the men’s boutonnieres, and Christy took the bridesmaids’ flowers to them. Just look how beautiful yours turned out.” She held up the bouquet of white roses. Sparse accents of silver and plum ribbon twisted here and there among them.
Sharee held her hand out, taking them and lifting them to her nose. “Oh, they are beautiful and smell so good. You’ve done a wonderful job, Lynn. Everything is perfect.” She held the flowers aside and hugged her.
“Careful with the dress!” Abbey said, and she took the flowers from Sharee’s hand. “You still have about fifteen or twenty minutes to go.”
“Yes,” Lynn said, “and I have a lot to do.” Suddenly she stopped. “You did do the something borrowed, somethi
ng blue thing, right? For good luck? Well, if not, too late now. Oh, and here’s a box that someone dropped off yesterday. I forgot to give it to you. Another wedding present. You can open it later. Gotta run!” She slipped back through the door, pulling John’s sister after her.
“Oh!” Sharee’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’ve…I’ve forgotten…one thing. Ryann, bring my purse, please.” As Ryann went to get her purse, Sharee glanced at the tag on the box. From the Intercoastal Hospital Staff on 2-West. Sharee’s eyes widened.
She remembered the note that had come from Cindy after Bruce’s death. The staff at the hospital had seen the whole thing on the news, Cindy had written, including pictures of Sharee and John and the church. She and the rest of the staff on 2-West had felt certain that during Sharee’s stay at the hospital that John was, in fact, on guard and protecting her from something. They were glad she was safe, but deeply sorry about her friend’s death. Their thoughts and prayers were with them. It was one of many things at the time that had reduced her to tears.
“Abbey, would you open this for me?” She gave the box to her.
Ryann handed her purse to her.
Sharee took a blue sheet of paper from her purse and unfolded it. “Do you remember this?”
Ryann put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “Yes. You’ve still got it?”
“Still got it and him.” Sharee grinned, showing it to Abbey. The words “HE’S A KEEPER” were written in plain letters. “Now hurry before Mother gets back. I need help. Lift up my gown, Abbey. Left side. Now, Ryann, fold that up again. Smaller. Okay. Put it under the garter.”
“What?” Ryann looked at her then started giggling. “You’re gonna let Mr. Jergenson find it, right? Oh, my goodness, when the others hear this!”
Heat rose in Sharee’s face. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Yea,” Abbey chimed in. “Don’t tell anyone.” She winked at Ryann.
“Okay, girls, enough. Abbey, how are you coming with that box?”
Abbey tore the rest of the paper off and pulled the box open, lifting out a white foam protector. “Here, Ms J, it’s yours. You open it now.”
As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2) Page 23
