by Lois Richer
“Have you and Noah been talking?” Rick asked. “He was in here this morning, asking about me questions about God’s forgiveness.”
“Cassie told me how my grandson was struggling, and how you helped him see the light. I don’t know how to thank you for doing that,” John said.
“I only did for him what you did for me.” Rick leaned back in his chair. “It’s about time I started paying back my debt to you.”
“There is no debt, Rick.” John frowned. “I told you that long ago. I love you like the son I never had. If I helped you, then it was a God-given privilege, not because I wanted payback.” He shook his head. “Are you still trying to keep that vow you made to God in seminary?”
Rick had known it was coming. He exhaled. “Yes. It’s the only way I know to repay God.”
“So you’re still trying to buy your salvation.”
Rick blinked. “Buy salvation?”
“What else can you call it? You think if you do enough, strive hard enough and help enough kids that you’ll be able to repay God.” John leaned forward. “I told you then and I’ll tell you now. You can’t earn forgiveness from our Lord. It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do, He’s still forgiven you for the mistakes you made.”
“But—”
“Isn’t that exactly what Easter is about?” The old man smiled. “The day Jesus died, your sins were forgiven. Period. There’s no way you can earn or be worthy of that forgiveness. By trying you negate God’s sacrifice.”
Rick frowned at the words as they began to sink in.
“If we can be worthy of forgiveness, if we can deny ourselves in order to earn it, then Easter doesn’t matter, son.” John sighed. “I should have said this a long time ago, the day you made that vow, in fact. But I thought—”
“You’re saying we shouldn’t make vows to God?” Rick asked.
“I’m saying your vow isn’t about God. It’s about you, about easing your guilt.”
“Me?” Rick shook his head, aghast. “No, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes.”
“You can’t.” John tented his fingers, then peered at him. “You’re not in control of the world. If you try to be, you make yourself ineffective for God. You’re fixated on the past and what you can do to make amends, but God doesn’t want your amends or your guilt. He’s already forgiven you. Now He wants you to move on, to do the things He has planned for you.”
Rick struggled to wrap his mind around what John was saying, but the next sentence drove all thought from his mind.
“My daughter loves you,” John said quietly. “She said you told her you feel the same. But you won’t act on those feelings, you won’t see that God brought you together, because you’re too busy trying to make God see how worthy you are.”
Stunned by the condemnation, Rick reeled.
“This vow you made—have you ever asked God what He thinks about it?” John asked. “That’s the thing about being in the ministry. We have to constantly measure our motives against God’s expectations. Easter is about forgiveness for everybody, regardless of what’s in their past. There’s no mention of earning it or making repayment because we can never atone. And when we try, we hamstring God.” John let that sink in for a moment, then rose. “I have to go, Rick. Noah and I are going to go ice fishing. My grandson and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
Rick shook hands with the man he’d revered for so long, his mind in turmoil as he watched John leave the church. Alone, he stared at the cross hanging above the altar. He thought of all the people he’d hurt and of the time he’d spent trying to make up for it.
My grace is sufficient for Thee.
What did that mean? That he’d been wrong to make his vow?
“Rick?”
Cassie’s quiet voice drew his attention to the back of the church. Love welled in him like an ocean tide as he soaked in her loveliness. Would he ever get over the yearning to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to protect her and never let her go? “Cassie,” he managed to croak.
“I just wanted to tell you something.” She fiddled with bright pink gloves that he knew she’d made. That vibrant color personified Cassie—she brought light and life with her wherever she went. “Noah and I are leaving Churchill. On Tuesday. With my dad.”
“What?” Feeling sucker punched, Rick stared at her. Her brown eyes glittered with determination. “Why?” he whispered.
“I know you gave your resignation and I know you did it because of me. But you can’t leave. This is your mission field, Rick. This is where you belong.” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. “The kids at Lives, Churchill’s seniors, the people who live here—they all need you. This is where God sent you. Because He has a purpose for your life here.” She smiled.
“If you leave, who will love the kids in your band and choir? They need to be part of something wonderful. Who will make sure the seniors are okay when the next problem hits? Who will show them that God is a God of love? You can’t give up your calling here. I won’t be responsible for ruining God’s plans.”
“But—”
“Because of you, I found God again. I understand now that His will comes first and I know that His will is for you to continue to minister here.” She stepped forward. Her fingertips skimmed across his face, cupped his cheek and followed the line of his jaw. She touched her forefinger to his lower lip as if to press a kiss there.
Rick nearly lost it. Every good intention, every resolve, even his vow—they nearly caved in under the rush of longing that wailed through him. His instincts urged him to grab hold of her and hang on for dear life.
“I love you with my whole heart, Rick,” she whispered, her smile affectionate yet sad. “But I understand that you have your vow, that you need to keep it and you can’t do that if I’m here. So I’ll leave wishing you God’s very best. I’m so thankful that one of the people you helped heal was my son.”
“I’m so sorry, Cassie.”
“You don’t owe me any apologies, Rick. I just want to say one thing more. It’s actually something Noah asked me,” she said. “You preach forgiveness. You’ve repeated it to the boys, to me and to Noah. You say it over and over.”
He nodded.
“But if God is a God of forgiveness and second chances, why can’t He forgive you for your past? Since when does God expect atonement for what’s already been forgiven?”
She gazed at him a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the church, leaving him with her questions ringing in the air.
Rick stood there feeling broken and lost. “I love you, Cassie,” he whispered. But his words fell into the emptiness of the sanctuary.
He returned to his office to work on his sermon for tomorrow, Easter Sunday. But there was no joy in his heart. Nor could he find joy in the glorious music the kids made in their afternoon practice. There certainly was no joy in watching Cassie walk out the door after practice without even looking at him.
Easter was all about joy. But all he felt was loss and guilt.
God doesn’t want your guilt. John’s words echoed inside his head.
Then what does He want?
Chapter Fifteen
“What are you thinking about, honey?”
Cassie was still adjusting to being around her father, and to his kindness. As he put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close, sharing her wonder at the Easter morning sunrise, she sent up a quick prayer of thanks.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered. The sun’s rays made the snow gleam like a diamond, as if in jubilant praise. “I’ll miss this place.”
And Rick.
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Yes, I do. Rick’s needed here. I can be replaced.” She turned her head slightly, letting a smile tug at her lips. “Most women would fight like crazy
for the chance to love a guy like him. He’s one in a million.”
“But?”
“But this place is his calling. How can I interfere in that? How can I ask him to turn his back on something he believes is his duty?” Cassie clapped her hands together. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? Let’s just enjoy the time we have left here.”
So they did. They shared a riotous breakfast with the boys. While Cassie cooked waffles, her dad insisted on frying mounds of bacon. Laurel got carried away whipping cream enough for twenty people, and yet somehow it all disappeared.
Joy filled the air at Lives Under Construction. From time to time the boys paused in their feast to remind each other of something in their choral presentation. Cassie smiled at the syrup that dotted Noah’s T-shirt as he joined in the conversation. His stutter was almost gone and the dark clouds of anger had lifted, leaving behind the child who, because of Rick, was finally able to genuinely interact with the Lives’ boys.
“You’d better wait till you’re at church before you put on your new shirts,” she said. Each boy had a brand-new white shirt, black pants and a black bow tie. “We don’t want any spots on this performance.”
As she laughed and smiled with them, Cassie could only keep Rick out of her thoughts for minutes at a time. The idea of never seeing Rick again, of never hearing his burst of laughter or the music he could coax from his guitar or his amazing voice—
I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, God?
What else could she do?
It took a lot of work to get the kitchen cleaned up and the boys ready to go. Cassie pulled into the packed church lot with only a few moments to spare before the service began. In a way she was relieved that there was no time to chat—she didn’t want any awkwardness in her relationship with Rick.
Later she’d think about all they’d shared, all she’d lost. Today she’d concentrate, pour her heart and soul into her accompaniment and make sure Rick and the kids had the best music she knew how to provide.
She’d do it out of love, for him.
Cassie walked into the church. To her surprise, the church burgeoned with flowers. In the entry, a huge basket of fragrant hyacinths welcomed everyone. A dozen pots of pure white Easter lilies with big glossy yellow bows lined the front of the stage. On either side at the front, someone had arranged two massive vases of bright pink tulips.
One glance at her father’s face and Cassie knew he’d done it.
“They must have cost you a mint,” she said. “But they’re beautiful. They remind me of the flowers Mom always got for our church. It really feels like Easter now.”
“Then they were worth every penny.” He squeezed her hand, then handed her her music bag. “Break a leg, sweetheart.”
After whispering much the same thing to Noah, Cassie walked to the front of the church, laid out her music for the choir then began to play a prelude to quiet the congregation. She deliberately chose hymns she’d learned as a child, words that spoke of the resurrection and the life given by God. As the boys filed into the first two rows, silence fell, allowing the music to soar to the ceiling of the small building. Along with the lovely scent of the flowers, a feeling of joy permeated the packed room as Rick walked through the door to the left of the pulpit.
Please bless him. Let him feel Your presence today.
When Rick moved into position, Cassie let the last few notes die away. Her senses couldn’t get enough of him, his dear face and gentle smile. His voice quiet yet edged with authority, he asked the congregation to rise.
How I love him...
Cassie forced herself to look down to hide the rush of emotion that threatened to break through. This was Rick’s day to show his community what his ministry was about. Today they would see how God had used him.
“He is risen,” he said, his smile wide as he gazed out over the group.
“He is risen indeed,” the congregation responded.
Cassie waited as he welcomed everyone. Her heart thrummed with anticipation when at last he nodded to the choir and they took their places on stage. Then Rick looked directly at her.
Spellbound by his stare, Cassie saw anxiety flicker through his green eyes. She knew he was second-guessing himself, wondering if he’d been right to encourage the kids to do this, worrying he’d asked too much.
Yes, he’d rejected her love. And come Tuesday, she would leave Churchill with her heart breaking. But today—today she was going to make sure that this man she loved with her heart, soul and mind would not regret this day. She lifted her lips in a huge smile that she hoped told him that she believed in him, that she knew today would be a success.
Faith, she mouthed at him.
Slowly, surely, his beautiful smile transformed his face. He nodded at her. Faith.
Then, with the choir’s full attention, he lifted his hand. Cassie played the somber opening chords, thrilled as the dark low notes echoed through the sanctuary. Choir and band hit the first note in perfect unison.
Thank You, Lord.
Then Cassie threw herself into playing the music, for Rick.
* * *
Rick had arranged a Scripture reading to give the choir and band a break halfway through the Easter cantata. While they sat, John rose. Standing amidstst the congregation, his baritone voice authoritative and yet personal, he began to recite verses about that first Easter morning.
Rick got caught up in thoughts of the next part of their presentation until a pause in John’s speech caught his attention. He looked up and found John staring directly at him, his dark eyes focused and intent. Then in a clear ringing tone he quoted, “‘There is forgiveness of sins for all who turn to me.’”
Every cell in Rick’s body homed in on that sentence. Jesus died to forgive sins, his sins. Hanging on to them diminished the very sacrifice he celebrated.
Light filled Rick’s soul, cleansing, clarifying, chasing out the guilt and refreshing it with the joy of the Easter message. Bemused by the wonder of freedom that flowered inside, he waited until John sat, then motioned for Noah to prepare.
Forgiven. I am forgiven. His soul chanted the glad refrain.
Cassie played the entrance to the song, this time a booming, triumphant series. Rick lifted his hands and their voices responded, soaring in hallelujahs that blended and harmonized in a perfect tribute.
Then Noah’s pure voice rang out, the words of redemption clear. His face shone as his solo echoed through the rafters. Redemption. Deliverance. Freedom.
Still lost in the wonder of the gift that took away his guilt, Rick led them to the end of their Easter cantata, every note exploding with praise for the Easter gift God had freely given.
As the last note died away, as the crowd rose and applauded, Rick bowed with the choir, his choir, then motioned for Cassie to take a bow. In that second the truth of what others had been trying to tell him finally hit his heart. God didn’t need or want his vow or his sacrifice for something He’d already wiped out. God needed a heart ready and willing to serve.
Churchill was where God wanted him.
But God had also sent Cassie here.
For him?
Hope flickered to life in a part of his heart that Rick had shut down. He needed to talk to John, to make sure his thinking wasn’t off, that he wasn’t making another mistake.
Can it be that You planned this, God? Love? For me?
His heart began to sing a new song—for Cassie.
* * *
Cassie snuck away from the church right after the service. She knew Noah and her father would catch a ride with Laurel. Before their Easter dinner, she needed some time to get her emotions under control, to make her heart stop hoping and yearning for something it couldn’t have. By the time the boys and Laurel appeared at Lives, she thought she was in control.
Then
Rick walked through the door.
Control and rational thought fled, along with her voice. Her eyes couldn’t get enough of his spiky hair and his lopsided grin, and the low musical rumble of his voice. Each one seemed to resonate through her.
“Thank you for your amazing playing, Cassie,” he said, his smile stretching across his face. “You made us sound great.”
“That was all the boys. I just provided background noise.”
There was something different about him. But though she studied him surreptitiously throughout the meal, Cassie couldn’t figure out what it was. And it was hard to be so near him, to tamp down the love that burgeoned inside.
Oh, Lord, her heart wept.
So when everyone went to the family room to play games, Cassie crept away. She pulled on her coat and gloves, and left the house. Outside the sun beat down with intensity, moderating the afternoon’s chill.
She was lost in her thoughts of Rick and prayers for the courage to hold fast to her decision when a hand touched her arm.
“Cassie.”
Oh, that voice. She turned and rested her gaze on his beloved face, stunned by what she saw glowing in the depths of his eyes. His face shone, his voice held a depth of joy that took away her breath. “Rick?”
“I’ve been redeemed, Cassie.” The words rang in the crisp air. He tipped back his head and laughed. “Redeemed. I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I’m a minister! I shouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake, getting caught up in my wrong thoughts, but I did.”
What was he talking about?
“God forgave me, Cassie. ‘There is now no condemnation for sin,’” he recited, green eyes shining. “I’ve been trying to pay off a debt that wasn’t there. My mistakes were all forgiven the first time I asked God. That’s what Easter is all about.”
“I know,” she whispered, uncertain as to what this meant, and afraid to hope.
Afraid? Had she not yet learned to trust the One who loved His children enough to make the ultimate sacrifice? I trust You. Help me, Lord.
