Lead Me Home

by Stacy Hawkins Adams

  Retelling Leslie’s horrific revelation made her shudder.

  “When she told me, I pleaded for her forgiveness, and I offered to go to the fellowship committee and tell them what I had done, so she could have another chance. I should have done that anyway, regardless of what she said,” Shiloh said. “But I was scared at that point that if I told the truth, I’d be kicked out of college and I’d never get my degree or recover from the shame.

  “Leslie told me she’d figure something else out. She’d never speak to me again, but she would find a way to do what she needed.”

  Shiloh looked heavenward. “God forgive me, but I listened to her. I heard what I wanted to hear, and I moved on and let the school praise me and honor me and do all of this great stuff for me for landing this prestigious fellowship, and Leslie watched from the wings and never said anything.

  “On the last day of the spring semester, before school ended for the summer, she left a note on my bed and told me to find a new roommate for junior year, and good luck in France. I never saw her again after that day, but I left her a note on her bed that simply said ‘I’m sorry.’

  “I don’t know if she ever got it,” Shiloh said. “I went on the fellowship, made the stupid mistake with Armando, and came home grieving about that. Your dad and I started dating soon after, and one weekend we went to Birmingham for a music festival. When we drove through downtown …”

  Shiloh began to sob and dropped her face in her hands. Randy walked over to her, rubbed her back, and continued the story for her.

  “We drove through downtown that evening, looking for a place to eat, and when I stopped at a red light, your mother looked over at a woman sitting on the corner,” Randy said. “I didn’t know who the woman was, but I noticed that she had a flute in one hand, and a bottle of liquor in the other. She was barely clothed, and she looked out of it. Your mother took one look at her and got sick in the car. I asked her why later, and she just played it off as being a stomach virus.”

  “That lady was Leslie Hamilton, wasn’t it?” Lem asked.

  Shiloh nodded. “It was, and I realized that night that I had ruined her life. She had chosen to live on the streets rather than go home to her big pretty house with her loving parents, because she dreaded further abuse.”

  Lem broke down in tears, and turned away from his mother. Shiloh could barely breathe. But when she looked up to console Lem, she saw that all of her sons were crying, and so was Randy.

  This … this moment here was her ultimate penalty, the most painful consequence for what she had done all those years ago. If she’d had the ability back then to see into her future, and witness how following temptation down a path she knew was wrong would affect those she loved the most, she would have moved heaven and earth to make everything right. How shameful that she hadn’t moved heaven and earth anyway, knowing all along what was right.

  “I don’t think Lia knows,” Lem finally said, in a small broken voice. “She doesn’t know all of this. She thinks her mother just left her because she was a young college student interested in the party life, which led her into drug addiction. You have to tell her, too, Mom. She deserves to know.”

  Shiloh’s heart sank. The ripple effect of the pain she had caused was unfolding before her. She had planned to wrap up today’s confession by asking her sons to forgive her, in their own time, and to learn from her mistakes. But she realized just now that this wasn’t going to be the end of it. She would have to face Lia and ask her forgiveness, and maybe Leslie too.

  fifty-nine

  The entire family moved through the rest of the afternoon in a daze, not watching TV, answering calls, or even gathering for dinner.

  Everyone had eaten leftovers from the fridge, including the pizza they’d almost devoured the night before. Finally, at bedtime, Shiloh had mustered enough strength to corral the younger three boys, who had settled on the sofas in the family room to watch ESPN with little commentary or interest, and get them into bed.

  “We have church tomorrow,” she reminded them.

  They hadn’t argued or delayed, as they usually did on Saturday evenings. Shiloh wondered what they were thinking of her, and whether they hated her, but she was afraid to ask.

  As she tucked David in and told him to say his nightly prayers, he stared at her, as if she were a stranger. “Mom, were you afraid to talk to God after you did all that stuff that summer? Do you think he still heard you?”

  Shiloh sighed and a lump filled her throat. “I think he heard me, David, but yes, I was very afraid to talk to him. And I felt like I needed to do something drastic to show him how sorry I was. So I didn’t finish school … I dedicated my life to serving him as a good wife and mom, and I hope I’ve done that.”

  David stared at her for a long time before answering, then he stroked her face. “You’re a good mommy, and even though you did some very bad things, I still love you. I guess that’s how Jesus felt when he was hanging from the cross for us.”

  With that, he rolled over and closed his eyes. Shiloh let the tears fall, but caught them before they dripped from her chin and drenched her baby boy’s arms. She’d taken her family through some tough stuff today, and it was going to take a long time to heal. The only thing she could hold onto was the nugget of blessing David had tucked within his comment: he still loved her.

  She left his bedside and made a pit stop in Raphael and Omari’s room. For the first time ever, they’d turned out the light without a third or fourth reminder. She wasn’t fooled; she knew they hadn’t yet succumbed to sleep. But she didn’t move past the doorway.

  “Omari and Raphael, just want to say that I love you, and I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. I’m sorry I’ve dumped all of this on you at once, and I hope you don’t think I’m a horrible person.”

  Next was Lem’s room. His door was closed and she started to knock, but she’d never done so before and decided against it now. She cracked it open and found him sitting on his bed, scowling at the wall across the room, rather than video chatting on his computer, as usual. Shiloh eased into the room and closed the door behind her. She stood at the foot of his bed with her arms folded, not sure what to say, but knowing she couldn’t go to bed without having a final conversation with him.

  “Are you being blackmailed?” he finally asked.

  Shiloh frowned. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

  “Why else would you tell us all of this crazy stuff all at once, about your days back in college? You had us thinking you were the perfect little Christian all these years, and here you were, having sex, killing a baby, stealing and cheating your way into a program. Who are you?”

  Any other time, that bold backtalk would have landed Lem in punishment for the rest of the school year, and it was just November. She would cut him some slack, because what she had shared was heavy for an adult to wrap his mind around, let alone a sixteen year old.

  “Lem, I’m your mother. And I’m human. I’ve made some horrible decisions and some bad mistakes and the time has simply come to tell the truth. I didn’t know someone at church was going to wind up in a situation that might mirror my own and need a mentor,” Shiloh said, trying to tell her son what she needed him to know without completely giving away Monica’s issues. “And I didn’t know that you were going to go to Alabama for the summer and fall in love with the daughter of the woman I had betrayed. When I saw her at the hospital this past week and learned her last name, I knew right away who she was, and I knew that it would be wrong of me to allow you to continue a friendship with her without telling you the truth. That’s all—no blackmail; just God telling me to finally stand in my truth and take off my masks so that someone else can be healed.”

  “I might be able to see how your first revelation can help some people at church, but how is this news going to do any healing in Alabama? Doesn’t sound like you’re willing to tell Lia all that you know about her mother.”

  Lem still wasn’t looking at her, but Shiloh moved cl
oser to him and perched on the end of his bed.

  “Lem, I’ve done enough ‘favors’ for Leslie Hamilton. In her own way and time, she’ll tell her daughter what she wants her to know about their family dynamics and what led her to a life on the streets. I do take the blame for that, and I can share that with Lia, but I’m not comfortable repeating the part about the abuse, because that’s not my place. I’m sorry, son. And I don’t know why God has allowed all of this to happen. He wants me to learn something for sure; I’m just not sure why I’ve had to crush all of you in the process.”

  Lem shook his head and lowered it.

  “I haven’t called Lia tonight because I just can’t face her. She’ll know something is wrong with me. I can’t tell her that stuff about her mother, or that you helped drive her mother down that path. She’ll never speak to me again.”

  “Can you keep it to yourself? At least for a few days? We’re going to Atchity for Thanksgiving now, since Daddy has been sick.”

  Lem’s eyes lit up. “For real? When did you decide?”

  “Actually before we left Atchity earlier this week; I just forgot to tell you,” Shiloh said. “I’m not asking you to keep a secret, I’m just asking you to hold off on telling her if you can. It’s hard stuff to hear on the phone or via video; I just don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. But I wanted you to know, because I can’t continue to keep secrets and have them eat away at me. I’m not perfect, Lem—far from it. But I do love you, and your brothers and your dad. And I’m grateful God gave me the chance to be your mother, despite all of the terrible stuff I did. I hope you can find a way to forgive me someday, and to see beyond the ugly stuff I’ve done, into the heart that God has cleansed. That’s who your mother is, not the person I was at twenty.”

  Lem peered at her, but didn’t respond.

  She finally stood up to leave, but instead approached him and kissed his forehead. “Good night, son. I love you.”

  Shiloh closed the door and leaned on it once she was on the other side.

  Dear God, let them all still love me, like David said, with the compassion of a forgiving Jesus.

  sixty

  The somber faces that had climbed into the van with Shiloh this morning transformed the minute they arrived at St. Stephens Baptist and the boys connected with their friends.

  Once again, they were the chatty, playful Griffin boys she knew. She wondered, however, if they were worried that she’d spill the beans about everything in service today. Shiloh wasn’t sure when she’d share her testimony. Just as God had put it on her heart to release her secrets, she was certain he’d tell her when and how.

  She strolled into the church this morning, greeting members along the way as usual, and tried to stay grounded in the moment. Dwelling on how the boys were reacting to her news wasn’t going to make them accept it and move on any faster; she had to press forward herself, and show them by example how to trudge through challenges with faith and hope that God would give her another chance to correct her wrongs.

  She was doubly surprised this morning when she entered the sanctuary. Not only was Monica and her grandmother seated in the middle section of pews on the right, so was Eva, her teaching colleague from Sherman Park High. Shiloh trotted over to greet all three of them with kisses and hugs.

  “Was this planned?” Shiloh asked Eva.

  “No,” Eva said and grinned. “I told you I was going to visit your church one Sunday, and I just chose this one. Plus, I missed you and I knew I’d find you here, if nowhere else!”

  Eva seemed oblivious to the sideways glances and outright stares she was receiving from St. Stephens Baptist members, and Shiloh was glad. Didn’t they have any manners? She wanted to stare them down until they got the message, but she had to remember her role as First Lady, and behave.

  “Why don’t you come sit with me, near the front?” Shiloh glanced at Monica, who was sitting next to her grandmother. “Do you two mind?”

  Eleanor shook her head, and so did Monica.

  “That’s fine, Mrs. Griffin,” Monica said. “Am I still coming with you after church?”

  Shiloh grinned at Monica, who didn’t look any different than she had several weeks ago. Shiloh asked herself why she was surprised. Most teens didn’t show until the fifth or sixth month of pregnancy.

  “Absolutely,” Shiloh said, and peered at Eleanor. “As long as it’s still okay with you?”

  Eleanor seemed less chipper than usual, but was receptive to Shiloh, as always.

  “That’s fine,” Eleanor said. “She needs to be home no later than seven, to wrap up the homework she hasn’t finished, but I know she’s in good hands.”

  Shiloh wondered where Monica’s father was this morning, but decided not to ask.

  She returned to the end of the pew, where Eva was waiting, and escorted her tiny friend to the front of the church, where she usually sat.

  Eva slid into the second pew on the left, and watched with interest as the choir filled the loft behind the pulpit. Shiloh sat next to her and instantly felt like the jolly green giant, given that Eva’s head barely reached her shoulder.

  “What is this—a full-fledged professional choir? You’ve got men, women, drums, a sax, an organ, and a guitar?”

  Shiloh smiled. “Welcome to the black Baptist church, my dear.”

  Eva chuckled. “When you visit me and my Korean friends, don’t talk about our harp. That’s all we’re working with now.”

  Shiloh peered at her, waiting for Eva to declare that she was joking, but Eva shook her head. “No joke. We make sweet simple music to the Lord. It’s all good!”

  Shiloh grinned and patted her hand. “You and your slang.”

  “Don’t hate,” Eva said with a straight face.

  Shiloh giggled, appreciative of the lighthearted banter, after what she had put her family through yesterday.

  The choir launched into gospel renditions of several hymns, and Shiloh was surprised not only by how well Eva knew the songs, but also by how lovely her voice was.

  “You’ve been holding out on me!” Shiloh whispered. “Your voice is gorgeous.”

  Eva blushed. “Thank you … First Lady.”

  A few folks had come by and addressed her that way, and Eva hadn’t been able to contain her amusement.

  The morning was eventful, with Jade’s return from Fond du Lac and the standing ovation she received from the congregation.

  “And here’s the latest news,” she said as she stood in front of the church this morning to thank them for their support. “I’ve been asked to testify before Congress from a layperson’s perspective about why hearing aids should be covered by insurance companies, without families having to write special letters of appeal. Sometimes they are granted the coverage, but just as often, they are denied. I’ll travel to Washington in early February to have my say.”

  “Amen!”

  “Go ‘head, Sister Jade!”

  The chorus of approval rippled through the church, and Jade beamed. Shiloh’s heart smiled. She was happy for Jade, and proud of her, too.

  When Randy asked the congregation to turn in their Bibles to Ephesians and announced that he would be preaching on grace, Shiloh found herself near tears again.

  “For it is by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast.”

  Shiloh had memorized Ephesians 2:8–9 as a teenager, at the insistence of a Riverview Baptist Sunday school teacher in Atchity, but not until this very day had those words registered in her heart as relevant to her life. It struck her that she’d been trying to work her way into God’s grace for the past eighteen years, by getting married and serving as the good preacher’s wife, by volunteering in church, and by holding her annual commemoration every August—even though she knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to work; grace was already free and didn’t have to be earned. She’d heard Daddy declaring that truth for as long as she could remember, and her
husband asserting it for nearly twenty years.

  Yet she kept giving the same burden to God every year on that date in August, which meant she was never really releasing it to him. When would she stop taking back the guilt and shame and finally accept his offer?

  Her family was still furious with her; she needed to talk to Monica about her experiences; and she needed to deal with whatever fallout would come from her eventual conversation with Lia; but for now, in this moment, she truly felt for the first time God’s indescribable peace, and the reality that he had forgiven her a long time ago—the moment the plane from France had landed in the U.S. and she had gone into the airport bathroom, entered a stall, and cried her eyes out and told God she was sorry. He had heard her. He had forgiven her. She just hadn’t allowed herself to receive it.

  Randy lowered his head to pray before beginning the sermon and when he said “Amen” and opened his eyes, a beam of sunlight streamed into the sanctuary.

  “Well, alright then,” he said, surprised, and the congregation chuckled. “I couldn’t have planned that if I wanted to, but clearly grace has entered this place with the Spirit of the Lord.”

  Shiloh smiled through her moist eyes. Whoever the sign was for, it was right on time.

  sixty-one

  The tension during dinner had been thick enough for Shiloh to carve a sculpture.