by Clare Revell
He hadn’t been inside a church since Sally’s funeral. His insides churned. He wasn’t scared. Scared was standing in front of a maniac with a gun who was firing point blank at you. Scared wasn’t stepping foot inside a church.
Jacqui’s hand slid into his, and her quiet voice filled his senses. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“You discover the horrid truth about me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re really a leprechaun?”
“No, silly. I’m actually tone deaf.” She squeezed his hand. “Come on.”
They found seats towards the back of the hall. Liam sat down, not letting go of her hand. “You don’t use the main church?”
“Not for the midweek meeting. We use the chapel on Sundays and for special church meetings. Otherwise, we meet here.”
The service got underway.
Jacqui was right about being tone deaf, but that didn’t matter. His mother always said it was ‘make a joyful noise unto the Lord’ not make a tuneful one. He listened to what was being said, finding it easy to slip back into the routine. It was comforting and familiar. He knew all the hymns and found himself singing the bass part without thinking.
He even knew the passages Pastor Jack referred to as he spoke on faith and forgiveness. Problem was, his faith was no longer there, and forgiveness wasn’t in the cards. Sally’s murderers didn’t deserve it, and neither did he. Something inside him moved, but he refused to let the torrent of emotions sway him.
‘God loves you, Liam. Just because you doubt Him, that doesn’t mean He doubts you,’ was what Jacqui had told him. ‘He wants you back, like He wanted me back, and He wants all of us.’ After the service ended, Jacqui took him over to the kitchen to pick up coffee. He stood and sipped it, half listening to conversations around him, the other half of his mind swimming with questions and a need for something to fill the hole inside him.
Jacqui touched his hand. “Are you all right?”
He grabbed her fingers and paused for a long moment. Something compelled him to be honest. “Not really.”
She led him over to a table and sat. “What’s wrong?”
Liam slumped into the seat next to her and gazed into his coffee. “Where do you want me to start?”
“The beginning?”
“That would be back in the dark ages, then.”
“Jacqui…how are you?” Pastor Jack spoke to Jacqui, then to him. “Nice to see you again, Liam. It’s been a while.”
He shook Pastor Jack’s hand, managing to formulate a response. “Yeah, it has. I told Jacqui I’d come with her tonight.”
“How are you? Not seen you since the funeral.”
“I’m managing.”
Jacqui shifted her eyes from Liam to Pastor Jack. “Pastor, have you got a minute?” Jacqui asked.
“Sure.” Pastor Jack set his coffee on the table and took a seat. “How can I help?”
Jacqui squeezed Liam’s hand. “Talk. It might help.”
“This used to be our church.” He took a deep breath. “You know the story, Pastor. Sally and I were out on the mission field in Endarra. Gunmen attacked the compound, killing most of the people there, including Sally. They burned everything. I haven’t set foot in a church since her funeral—here or anywhere else.”
Pastor Jack looked at him unswervingly. “Do you blame God for what happened?”
Liam caught his breath. This guy was perceptive. He hit the nail right on the head. “Yes, I do. God could have stopped the gunmen. He could have given us warning or time to get to our own guns to defend ourselves. He didn’t. He let it happen. The local police are in the pockets of whoever did this because they have done nothing. The mission society hasn’t either. It’s like they don’t care, and don’t go quoting Romans chapter eight verse twenty-eight at me either.”
Pastor Jack paused with the coffee at his lips. “Oh?”
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Liam recited.
“Do you remember how that passage ends? Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Then there’s first Peter chapter five, verse seven.”
“If He cares that much, then prove it.”
“John three, verse sixteen doesn’t say ‘For God so loved the world with the exception of Liam Page’.”
“Now you’re mocking me. Anyone can take stuff out of context. For example, Deuteronomy five, verse thirty-three is ‘live long and prosper’. And this,” he continued holding up his hand in the Vulcan salute, “is the sign of the priestly blessing from Numbers six, verses twenty-four to twenty-six.”
“I didn’t know that. I didn’t mean to mock you, Liam. I was trying to make a point.”
“May I?” Liam picked up Jacqui’s Bible and opened it. He pushed it across the table. “Psalm eighty-eight, verse eighteen.”
“You have taken my companions and loved ones from me. The darkness is my closest friend.” Pastor Jack skimmed the rest of the passage. “It sums up how you feel right now. How I felt after Elisa died, but He doesn’t leave us in the dark. Are you familiar with the story of Job?”
“Uh huh. He lost his wife and kids, so God could prove a point to His stubborn people. Then he remarried, had more kids, and lived happily ever after.” He struggled to keep his voice level.
“His wife disappeared. It’s entirely possible she’s the same woman he had his second family with at the end of the story, but, yes, bandits murdered his kids. Or if you prefer, terrorists.”
Liam glanced down as Jacqui slid her hand into his and took a deep breath. “I see where you’re going with this, Pastor, but I don’t understand why. Sally hadn’t done anything wrong. She wanted to teach the kids about Jesus. I went to protect her and teach the kids out there a little English. What was wrong with that?”
Pastor Jack took a deep drink of his coffee. “I don’t know all the answers, and I’m not going to pretend I do. I’m not God, and I don’t know why this happened and what He has in mind for you. In Jeremiah chapter twenty, Jeremiah doubted the goodness of God when he learned all of Judah was to be handed over to its enemies or killed.”
“Verse nine. If I say, ‘I will not mention Him or speak anymore in His name’, His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones, I am weary of holding it in, indeed, I cannot,” Liam whispered. Perhaps that was the ‘sharp stick’ that had been poking him these past few weeks.
Pastor Jack nodded. “It’s elsewhere in the Bible too. David, Hosea…even Jesus knows what it’s like to be tempted, to suffer and die, and to be abandoned.”
Liam straightened in the chair. “Abandoned?”
“My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me? Or if you prefer, why have You forsaken Me? Throughout the gospel of Mark, God proclaims His love for His Son. ‘This is My Son, whom I love’. Then comes the crucifixion and there is nothing. There is no light from heaven, only darkness. There is no voice from heaven, only one voice crying in great pain ‘My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?’ God has a plan for all of us, Liam, and if He delivered His own Son to death, the worst kind of death, why should He step in and save us from following our Lord’s example and giving our lives for God?”
Liam’s stomach lurched. “I guess... I just...”
Pastor Jack turned the Bible back a few pages, then turned it back to face Liam. “We all have doubts from time to time. Yes, even Pastors have doubts and fall into sin, but each time, Liam, like I explained earlier this evening, God still loves us. He never lets go of us, even if we let go of Him for a little while. Read Psalm seventy-three. See the big change in the middle of it, in particular when the Psalmist realized the implications of eternity. He realized that although he had doubts, God still loved him and had a plan for him. Just like He loves and has a plan for you.”
Liam’s hand whitened around the cup. “I begged Him to intervene, but He didn’t answer.”
“God always answers. The gunmen attacked, you were injured, your wife and several others died. You cried to Him for help, and you feel He ignored you because the slaughter continued. He didn’t ignore you. God always answers. Sometimes the answer isn’t the one we want. Sometimes the answer is not yet. Sometimes the answer is no. It doesn’t mean He doesn’t stop loving us.”
“Why?”
“Like any child, what we want isn’t always what’s best for us. We may never understand while here on Earth, but one day we will.”
Liam brushed a hand over his eyes and pushed up. “Thanks. I should...”
Jacqui tugged at his hand. “Don’t go, Liam.”
He stood still; hesitating for a moment, then shook his head. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can I give you a lift?”
“No.” He hurried from the building, trying to ignore the pounding inside of him. Catching the bus home, Liam put his headphones on, blasting his MP3 player as loud as he could stand it. He didn’t want to listen to the small, insistent Voice.
****
Liam continued to ignore the Voice and everything else, including his phone and email the next day. He rang in to work sick and sat on the couch, staring across at the bottle of wine he’d picked up on the way home from the church on Wednesday. He didn’t remember buying it but it wasn’t there when Jacqui visited on Tuesday.
He didn’t know how long he stared at the bottle, before he thumbed through the phone book searching for an address.
He rang the information line and listened to the times given. The nearest meeting was just around the corner from him. If he left now he’d have time to make the start of the session. The evening sun was warm, almost too warm for seven PM. He rolled his shoulders, the familiar ache starting under the rough cotton of his shirt.
The doors stood open and he could hear muffled voices spilling onto the street. He hesitated. The Voice seemed to reverberate in his head.
Go.
Was this really such a good idea? The Voice told him so, but honestly, he’d never felt good enough for God. Not even this would do that.
God… He paused. I’m not worthy to even speak Your name. I don’t deserve the help these people can offer. I’ve thrown it away too many times. What do I do? How can I do this?
Go.
The Voice was louder, but at the same time gentle and loving.
But I’m not worthy…
Go. One day at a time.
He could do that.
Making his way inside, he took one of the few remaining seats. He sat quietly, listening to the others speaking, still not sure he could do this. Then the coin passed to him. He hefted the weight in his hand and looked at it.
“Just pass the coin along the row if you don’t want to say anything,” the group leader said. “No one will think any the less of you.”
Liam took a deep breath and slowly looked up. “My name’s Liam. And I’m an alcoholic.”
****
When he went back to work on Friday, he continued to block out the Voice still whispering insistently inside him. Every day. Every hour. Every minute.
“Mr. Page?” Jacqui greeted him.
“Hello, Miss Dorne. It’s looking good out here. The kids love the picnic area.”
She smiled. “They’ll like the table tennis even more when it goes in later today. I wondered how you were. You weren’t here yesterday. Have you been sick?”
“Yeah, but I’m all right now.”
“That’s good. I was wondering what you were doing tonight?”
Liam dodged a couple of running teenagers. “I was going to watch the tennis. Why?”
“I owe you dinner, and I was wondering if you’d let me cook for you.”
He paused for a moment. He’d not had a woman cook for him since… “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“All right,” she shifted the clipboard in her arms. “I’ll see you at my place about seven.”
“Sure, see you then.”
The rest of the day he spent wondering if he should take something with him. And if he did, should he take flowers or chocolates? Should he wear jeans or slacks or stay in his suit? Would she want casual or formal? He should have asked. He was so out of practice at this, despite having dated her for over a month now. He was tempted to ring Patrick and ask him, but really wanted to keep the relationship with Jacqui quiet for now. He hadn’t even told Niamh, and he usually told his twin everything.
Deciding on casual, he picked a blue shirt and jeans and plumped for both flowers and chocolates. Feeling incredibly nervous as he rang the bell, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, hoping he wasn’t underdressed.
Jacqui answered the door in a floral sundress, her hair scraped back in an untidy ponytail. “Hi.”
Liam kissed her and held out his gifts. “I didn’t know what flowers you like so I got carnations.” Of course he’d technically given her carnations when they first met, although he hoped these would go nowhere near her laptop.
She beamed. “You guessed perfectly. These are my favorite. Thank you. Come in.”
The smell of cooking floated from the kitchen, making his mouth water and his stomach growl in anticipation.
“The tennis match is on in the lounge. Help yourself to a drink and make yourself at home. I’ll be right in with the food.”
He nodded and went into the lounge. The curtains moved in the breeze. A bottle of wine and another of juice were on the sideboard. “I didn’t think you drank.”
“I got it for you. Unless you fancy something else.” Her voice echoed down the hall.
Liam looked at it, torn and severely tempted. He could still see the look in her eyes and hear the disappointment in her voice when she found him in a drunken rage three days ago. His hand hovered for a moment, before his new found resolve kicked in. He was two days and counting. One day at a time.
He poured two glasses of juice and sipped his, glancing at the TV.
Jacqui came in with two plates. She smiled as she saw him with the juice.
“Can you get a refund on the wine?” he asked.
“I’ll give it to my neighbor.”
“I wouldn’t want it to go to waste, but…” He paused. “I went to an AA meeting yesterday. I’m two days and counting.”
Jacqui set the plates down and hugged him. “Liam, that’s wonderful news.”
“Thank you. Dinner smells good.”
“Figured we could eat in here—slum it, as Mum used to say.” She picked up the plate.
“There’s nothing wrong with TV dinners every so often.” He took the offered plate. “It looks wonderful. I’ll swap you for some juice.”
“Thank you.” She exchanged the plate for the glass and sat on the couch.
Liam paused as she said grace, and then took a bite. “This is lovely. I don’t remember the last home cooked meal I had.”
“Thank you. It’s one of Mum’s recipes. Lamb cobbler—one of those ‘chuck everything in the same pot’ dinners, so it’s really easy to do.”
“Less washing up,” he laughed, winking at her. “So tell me about your parents.”
Liam ate as they chatted, enjoying every mouthful, almost as much as her company. She wasn’t afraid around him. He carried the empty dishes to the kitchen and lost for the washing up. He picked up the tea towel. “I still think I’d have pressed charges,” he said going back to the topic of her parents and an incident with the neighborhood kids.
“Dad wanted to. But Mom didn’t. Despite that and everything else I did in my rebellious teenage years, my father still loved me.”
Liam froze, her words hitting him right between the eyes. “Sorry?”
“I said, despite everything that happened. My father still loved...What is it?”
“Excuse me one moment.” The small insistent Voice became a loud shout. Liam dropped the tea towel and ran from the room.
Locking himself in the bathroom, he leaned against the door, tears spilling d
own his face. Oh, God, forgive me. He stumbled over the words as he renewed his relationship with God and asked forgiveness for the way he’d acted since Sally’s death.
He knew what he was doing and the implications. He could feel God’s arms around him and His peace flowing through him as he spoke. He didn’t do anything in a light-hearted way. God loved him and died for him and he needed Him back in his life.
When Liam went back into the kitchen, he felt lighter than he had for a long time. He walked back over to Jacqui and picked up the tea towel. “I’m sorry—there was just something I had to do. Some One I had to…”
She smiled at him. “I know. There’s a peace in your eyes that hasn’t been there before.” She hugged him tightly, wet hands and all. “We love you so much.”
“That’s the royal ‘we’ I take it?”
“You bet,” she laughed.
11
Liam’s faith rekindled from a spark to a flame over the next two weeks. He and Jacqui read and prayed together most days. He became convinced more each day she had come into his life like this for a reason. She’d been instrumental in bringing him back to God and he was eager to see where God led them in the future. She drove him to each AA meeting and sat in the car outside while he went in alone.
He went to church on Sundays with Jacqui and to the weekday meetings. He hadn’t heard from Patrick, but there was no point in hassling him. So long as he kept Jacqui away from Vince, everything would be fine, but since she hadn’t heard any more from him, maybe he was finally out of her life.
The school grounds were almost done and looked fantastic. The only down side would be not seeing her at work each day.
He was due to pick Jacqui up to drive her to church. He tucked his shirt into his trousers, and then stood in front of the dressing table. He looked at the small photo of Sally he kept in with his cufflinks. His fingers traced the gold wedding ring on his left hand. “I will always love you,” he told the photo. “And taking this off won’t change that one iota. What I feel for Jacqui is different. I’m not sure how, but it’s not the same love as I have for you, but then she’s not you.”
