Lead Me Home

by Stacy Hawkins Adams

  Shiloh was frustrated that instead of relaxing as she had planned, she found herself wrestling with God. She felt like she was being pushed against a wall, with no choice but to push back and fight her way out—by baring her soul. That was the last thing she wanted to do. Some people managed to receive forgiveness and still take their secret shame and lies to the grave; couldn’t she be one of them?

  You can win. But only with the truth.

  The response God spoke to her heart left her hopeful that she could be released from the shame and guilt that had burdened her for so many years; yet she also felt a tremendous fear of releasing the façade that all was right in her world. She wanted to worry about the inner Shiloh later, in her private time, when she could sort through everything at her own pace. But God wasn’t having it.

  He wanted her to do the unthinkable and tell it all to her family and friends and to whoever else needed to hear her testimony. As that reality sank in and Shiloh considered the consequences of obedience, she felt sick to her stomach. But how could she turn down this request from God? He had been so gracious and good to her all of these years. If this was the one thing he was requiring of her, she had to relent.

  With that silent surrender came another pivotal truth: She was tired of running, hiding, and occasionally trying to explain away her behavior. When all of this was said and done, she knew none of that would matter anyway.

  Shiloh slid off the bed and onto her knees and put her palms together. She bowed her head and opened her heart to God, because if he was going to require all of this from her, he had to tell her what to say, and prepare her for what was to come.

  forty-eight

  The decision to leave for Milwaukee Tuesday evening bought Shiloh a little more time to think everything through.

  A great distraction, and blessing, occurred that morning, when Daddy woke up. With him now alert and already getting stronger, Mama feeling confident about his progress, and a promise to return with the entire family for Thanksgiving, Shiloh, Randy, and Lem departed just after 6 p.m. The ride home improved when, two hours into the trip, a text from Monica blazed across her cell phone screen.

  I will call you soon. Dad is calming down.

  Praise God. She had finally heard from her daughter. The message was cryptic, but at least Monica was communicating again. Shiloh texted her back to let her know she was happy to receive that message and that she would look forward to talking whenever, and however soon, Monica could.

  Other texts began flying between Shiloh and women in the Bible study group, many of whom who were eagerly planning a caravan to Fond du Lac on Friday to support Jade in the Mrs. Wisconsin pageant. Shiloh chuckled at how the ladies had moved from what her students would have called “hater-ation”—wagging their fingers at Jade for being so superficial—to waving their hands in support of her.

  Ya’ll don’t go out and break your banks, trying to get all fancy. The camera and lights will be on the ladies on stage—not you, St. Stephens Baptist divas! :)

  Shiloh laughed out loud as she sent the group text to everyone on her Bible study list who was planning to attend the pageant. The ladies would get a kick out of her teasing, and she was glad to have this harmless outlet for her stress. If Daddy continued to improve and she didn’t have any emergencies the rest of the week, Shiloh might make it to the live program after all.

  Shiloh glanced at the clock on the dashboard and saw that with the time they were making, she would reach Milwaukee early enough to send her youngest three off to school Wednesday morning, and to get some rest before Bible study. She still might be too exhausted to lead it, but she could sit in. With this being the week before Thanksgiving and no Bible study scheduled for next Wednesday, maybe they could have an open faith discussion and gratitude reflection period, rather than a formal lesson.

  She leaned over and patted Randy’s shoulder. “Thank you for doing most of the driving, babe,” she said. “And for taking time to get us to Atchity so quickly; love you.”

  He frowned at her. “You know I love your dad like he’s my own, Shi, and in many ways, he has been. So why are you thanking me? Isn’t this what we’re trying to teach our boys—God first, family second? There was never a question that we needed to drop everything and be there for Dad, and for Mom.”

  She smiled at him. He was right; she knew there’d never been a question of whether they’d go to her father’s bedside. It was more a matter of how soon, and how many of the boys they’d take with them.

  Lem cleared his throat dramatically.

  Randy copied him. “‘Ahem,’ back to you, sir,” Randy said. “We haven’t forgotten you’re rolling with us.”

  “Can ya’ll chill with the mushy stuff, then?”

  “I’ll be sure to tell you that, the next time I see you and Miss Lia making goo-goo eyes at each other,” Shiloh retorted.

  Lem blushed, but kept his eyes on Shiloh. “We weren’t doing that,” he said. “For real, though, what did you two think of her?”

  Shiloh turned in her seat and faced Lem. “She is a lovely young lady, Lem, and I can see why you care for her,” she said, remembering that her silence at dinner had probably led him to assume that she disapproved of the girl. “I knew you were planning to find a way to see her from the moment you jumped in this car with us, but it was commendable of her to drive down to see you and meet us on her own. I can tell that she really cares about you, too.”

  Lem nodded and seemed on the verge of speaking.

  “What is it, son?”

  “She thinks you have issues with her because she’s being raised by her grandparents.”

  Before Shiloh could respond, Randy chimed in. “Why would she think that? Life happens. She can’t help how she got here or who took on the responsibility of caring for her. Her grandparents were delightful. I enjoyed meeting them yesterday when you and I drove halfway to Birmingham. It said a lot about them, being willing to meet us at a halfway point to follow Lia the rest of the way home. In the brief time I was around them, and her, I could tell they care very much about her, and that they’ve raised her well. That’s what matters.”

  Shiloh nodded. Soon, she would have to explain to both of them how Lia’s family circumstances were indeed coloring her new relationship with the girl, but for now, Randy’s explanation was sufficient.

  “Your dad is right, Lem,” she said. “We don’t want you getting too serious about anyone right now. Both of you have your whole lives in front of you, and through its various twists and turns, you are going to change and grow. It isn’t ideal or wise to settle so firmly in the middle of all of that morphing and stretching on who you want to be with long-term. If you are concerned about the fact that I didn’t have much to say over dinner yesterday, that was all about me, not Lia. I apologize if I made you two think otherwise. At the same time, I ask that you continue calling each other just ‘friends,’ and consider dating other people, as you two get to know each other.”

  Even as she uttered that advice, however, Shiloh sensed that Lem was going to do what teenagers throughout the centuries did when their parents rendered wisdom in the context of a romance: hear it, and forget it, in the same breath with which it was spoken. Her eldest born gave her a tolerant smile and she turned to face the front again, marveling at where life had taken them.

  She truly didn’t hold a grudge against Lia; still, who would have known that allowing Lem to spend a few weeks in Alabama with his grandparents this past summer would lead to a serious teenage romance that could inadvertently put a chink in her personal emotional armor? She knew better than to question God or his timing, yet still wondered why he had so much faith in her ability to handle it all.

  forty-nine

  “You guys just got home after a fourteen-hour drive from Alabama and you’re going to Bible study tonight? I’m impressed.”

  Her sister Jessica’s teasing didn’t bother Shiloh this morning, and besides, she had all day to rest. “Don’t try to talk about me—if you had re
turned home to an audience waiting to hear your next speech, you’d pull out a dress and a pair of your fabulous heels and be there with bells on, baby girl.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Yeah … you got me on that one. Guess I better bless you and send you on your way,” Jessica said and laughed. “I’m just calling to let you know that Daddy came home about an hour ago. He is resting well, but he’s another Christian that needs his mental capacity checked. The first thing out of his mouth when he crossed the threshold into the house was, ‘Thank God.’ The second was to ask Mama to fry him some catfish. And she had the nerve to seriously consider honoring the request! Dayna told Mama she was going to call PPS—’Preacher Protective Services’—on her if she cooked him anything in grease in the next twelve months.”

  Shiloh laughed until her sides hurt. She wished she had been there to see Mama’s face as her oldest child reprimanded her. But Jessica’s well-honed storytelling abilities helped Shiloh imagine the scene. She understood why her sister got paid the big bucks—and the call from Oprah.

  “I’m glad Dayna was willing to move our Thanksgiving celebration back to Atchity,” Shiloh said, changing the subject. “It’s the best thing, with all that Daddy has gone through, and we really do have a lot to be thankful for.”

  “Yes, we do,” Jessica said. “Dayna understands. Since we won’t be taking the family cruise anytime soon, maybe we can all visit Florida in the spring, around Easter.”

  They chitchatted while Shiloh finished unpacking her bag and started a load of laundry. Jessica had called just after Shiloh had shooed Omari, Raphael, and David off to the school bus stop, and sent Lem and Randy to bed. When she wrapped up this call, she intended to join the Griffin men in napland.

  “Easter sounds good,” Shiloh said.

  “I’ll mention it when we’re together next week, sis,” Jessica said. “I’m signing off now, to check on Mama and Daddy again. Talk to you soon.”

  That one word—sis—sent a rush of joy through Shiloh that she hadn’t expected, or felt before. She was grateful to hear Jessica use the term of endearment, and grateful for the direction in which their relationship was headed; but the timing was bittersweet. What would happen when Jessica found out about the real Shiloh?

  fifty

  Tonight’s Bible study class had a third fewer attendees than usual, despite Shiloh’s text to the members that she was back in town and eager to gather. She suspected some of them were out this evening searching for the right outfit for Friday’s pageant. Or maybe they thought she’d be too tired to teach. Shiloh noted that the murmuring and soft conversations of those who were present ceased when she entered the meeting room. She took her seat at the top of their circle and confronted them.

  “Good evening, ladies, what gives?”

  They looked from one to another, without responding, until Shiloh prodded them again. Sister Adelaide finally spoke up.

  “Sister Griffin, you and Sister Smith have really helped us grow recently in how to love and accept others, including those who may be lost, hurt, or different from us in some way. We think one of our new members fits this category—your former student, Monica, and we don’t know how to help her.”

  Another Bible study member, Dora, interjected. “I’m just going to put the truth on the line, and tell it like it is. You don’t see Sister Eleanor here tonight because the word on the street is that her granddaughter, your student Monica, is pregnant. Now, I don’t know how true that is, but that’s what has been circulating around the church, and even out in the community, because the boy who apparently knocked her up is some sports star.”

  Shiloh tried to mask her emotions, and her breath caught in her throat. How on earth had word gotten out? She wondered if Monica knew that rumors were circulating. If so, she had to be devastated.

  Shiloh willed herself to return to the present, and saw that the women were watching her intently, gauging her reaction. She didn’t want to give away what she knew, but she didn’t want to lie, either. Protecting Monica was the priority.

  “I haven’t talked to her since I left town to check on my father,” she said, after releasing a long sigh. “I will call her first thing tomorrow. She is a wonderful and talented young lady. All I can say is, all of us have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. I know I’ve messed up over and over again, and I’m thankful every day for God’s new mercies. If what you all are hearing turns out to be true, then Monica is hurting and scared, and she and her family will need our support now more than ever.”

  That comment was followed by an awkward silence.

  “Our support for doing something she had no business doing, something that’s wrong in the eyes of God?” Sister Adelaide asked the question that seemed to be on all of their minds. They didn’t utter their agreement or nod, but their eyes were fixed on her as she spoke, and they all seemed to be saying, “Amen, sister!”

  Shiloh leaned forward. “But you don’t know that what you’ve heard is true. Rumors are rumors, and until we are able to find out what’s really going on with Monica, and with Sister Eleanor, I think it’s best to withhold judgment and pray for the family, especially for this young girl whose mother died just two years ago. Even if it is true, that she made an unwise decision—and yes, committed a sin, since she had sex outside of marriage—if we allow her to deal with a pregnancy and then teenage motherhood alone, are we any less wrong?”

  Some of the women glanced at Sister Adelaide to see how she would respond, but others hung their heads as they considered her position.

  “Sister Griffin is right,” Sister Dora said. “We can sit here and condemn this girl, or even Sister Eleanor when she returns, but what good will that serve? What will be the purpose behind that? We’ll be no better than the Pharisees who sat watching Jesus healing and ministering to people, and all the while mocked and judged him for doing so on the wrong day of the week, or with the wrong kind of people, instead of understanding that he was effective precisely because he met people at the point of their need and accepted them for who they were. Pastor Randy is always talking about putting our faith into action. If these rumors are true, and Monica has done this thing, how can we help this young girl heal?”

  Shiloh remained silent. She wanted the consensus on how to proceed to come from the women, not from her, since she was so close to Monica. Finally, these women were getting it. What would they say, though, when she shared her skeletons? She knew she couldn’t focus on that; she had to simply do what God was compelling her to do when the time was right.

  In the meantime, she would focus on tonight’s pressing needs, and that meant leading the ladies in a prayer of support for Jade and the upcoming pageant. “Bless Jade, Father. Give her the opportunity to speak out and the courage to do so when she can. Permit her to go as high and as far as you desire in this pageant, even taking home the title. Allow her efforts to yield major blessings, for Jade and her family, and for all of the lives she touches as a result of this opportunity.”

  The women wrapped up the study by deciding who would reach out to Sister Eleanor to chat with her about whatever may be on her mind, and to invite her back to Bible study. They agreed that anyone who called or encountered her would focus on her potential needs and not mention Monica or the persistent rumor. If Sister Eleanor brought up Monica and requested prayer, they would comply. Otherwise, they would bathe the Garrett family in secret prayer and allow God to minister to their needs.

  Shiloh agreed to the plan, but also asked God to give her the faith to believe they could pull it off. The church sisters’ hearts were in the right place, but they were human. She prayed that God would block anyone who couldn’t handle this appropriately from running into Eleanor, Monica, or Claude, and that he would send the right people at the right time to the family. She prayed that she was in the latter number, because she missed Monica, and she knew in her heart that Monica missed her. Monica’s brief message last night gave Shiloh the impression that Claude was monitor
ing the girl’s phone, or giving her limited access to it, especially since Monica hadn’t kept her promise to call. The more time passed, the more anxiety Shiloh sought to keep at bay.

  fifty-one

  Shiloh left Bible study with Monica on her mind. The minute she settled into the passenger seat of the car to wait for Randy to lock the church doors, she decided she couldn’t hold off any longer. Her heart pounded as she dialed the girl’s number.

  It didn’t surprise her at this point when she didn’t get an answer, but she left a message again, urging Monica to call. After what she’d heard tonight, she needed to talk to Monica, and soon.

  Randy climbed into the car, buckled his seatbelt, and cranked the engine. A familiar Marvin Sapp song filled the airwaves: So glad I made it …

  Shiloh’s insides felt like jello. Before she changed her mind, she touched Randy’s arm to stop him from putting the car in drive and heading toward home.

  “Babe … I need to talk to you about something really important. Right now.”

  Randy’s eyes filled with concern and Shiloh’s filled with tears. “Don’t worry—I’m not sick or dying and neither are the kids. But what I have to share may leave me wishing I were dead.”

  Randy responded by turning off the car. He shifted in his seat to face Shiloh, who wondered how just enough moonlight could be cast through the windshield to allow her and Randy to see each other’s faces.

  “Whatever it is, I’m here.”

  Tears fell as Shiloh grasped for the right way and the right words to begin. Reality hit her, though: There were no right words, and no right way. She just had to tell him the truth, and after all of these years, allow it to set her free. She didn’t know what would happen after she made her revelations, but there was no turning back. She would be sharing all of herself for the first time in their seventeen-year marriage, and giving Randy a chance to decide which Shiloh he loved—the pretty and perfect Christian trophy wife, or the “good girl gone bad,” who at one time had been selfishly willing to save her reputation and her future by any means necessary. She hadn’t counted the steep cost back then, but as she thought about the recorder tucked away in the family room, near her two flutes, the melody of “Her Song” floated through her mind. After tonight, there would be no more private commemorations.