Broken: A story of hope and forgiveness

by Kevin Mark Smith

  Part of Vincent wanted to walk away, as far away from Kristin or her party as he could. But he knew her heart. He knew she had never judged him for what he had chosen to do in his life. She was just nice. She was always nice to him. He looked down toward the ground, trying hard to avoid eye contact. “You’re the first person who has talked to me about Jesus that I didn’t want to punch in the face.” He laughed after he said it. “People who say things like that usually call me bad words when they turn away. I’ve heard them do it before. I have really good hearing.” He looked up at her and winked.

  She nodded her head in response. “I know. But do you know what your mistake is when you let people like that keep you away from God?”

  “What?” he asked. He knew he sounded defensive, but so be it.

  “You’re looking at other imperfect men as examples of Jesus Christ, not Christ himself.”

  “So are you saying it’s okay to be gay?” Now this is getting interesting, he thought.

  She gently shook her head. “No. Sin is sin. We can’t escape its consequences. The apostle Paul said if you’ve committed the least of these sins you’ve committed them all. He also said that you will know the condition of your heart by the fruits your life yields.”

  He squinted his eyes tight in stern concentration on that she had just said. “Huh?”

  “Jesus said, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the light. No one gets to the Father but through me.’ Accept him as your Lord and Savior and all your sins will become clear. When that happens your life will transform. Things both of us do will suddenly appear as sin and we will want to avoid making Jesus feel the pain of that sin that he felt at the crucifixion. By his stripes we are healed!”

  An older woman nurse walked by and said “Hello. Congratulations!” and then left them alone to continue their conversation.

  “It’s a lot to think about.”

  “May I suggest something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Come to church with me Sunday. I’ll even take you out to brunch afterwards.”

  He nodded slightly. Hmmm. Maybe I will. He answered, “I’ll think about it.”

  The party ended. Their shifts ended. For the first weekend in more than a month, Kristin and Ann were too busy to get together before Sunday service. They hadn’t even shared the conversations they each had with their colleagues during the party. There would be time for that later.

  Kristin was sitting in the back pew of the church waiting for service to begin. It was a relatively large church. It could hold over a thousand people sitting in dozens of rows of pews slanting forward so as to give each seat a relatively unobstructed view of the elevated speaker and choir. The seats and carpets were dark red. The walls that reached up almost fifty feet at the front and a few feet lower in the back due to the slant of the floor were painted beige and had upward pointing lights every dozen feet that resembled candles but were of the florescent variety. It was just five minutes before service was to begin and Kristin had not yet seen her friend.

  Just then she saw someone else that took her by surprise. She grinned broadly. It was Blankenship. Sitting next to him was her friend Ann.

  “So how does this work?” an effeminate male voice said from the seat to her right.

  At the question, Kristin smiled even wider. She silently thanked God for Robert Baxter and the horrible tragedy that had opened doors to Blankenship’s and Vincent’s souls. She reached for a hymnal from its holder on the back of the pew in front of them as the choir began to sing the first verse. She opened it to Amazing Grace and shared it with someone she desperately prayed would soon be a brother in Christ.