by Bonnie Leon
Gasps and murmurs moved through the congregation. Hannah took a deep breath and continued. “It was a grave sin, one I shall never forgive myself for. The child was born early and it did die.” She closed her eyes. “But as someone once pointed out to me, I am not God. It is he who chooses who lives and who dies. Yet, he is merciful and has forgiven me for my shameful request, though I do not deserve it.”
Looking at John and the reverend and those she felt closest to, she continued, “And now, I ask for your forgiveness. I’ve tarnished not only myself but my family and my church family. Please forgive me.” She moved back to John and took his hand. “John and I will move away if it is considered a just punishment for what I’ve done.”
Deidre wore a look of satisfaction.
Perry stood. “If she goes, then I guess I’d better go too. I’m a sinner. I grew up on the streets and committed just about every sin a man can.” He moved into the aisle.
“And I’ve committed the gravest of sins,” Lydia said. “I murdered a man. I was protecting my mum, but still I took his life.” She looked down at David. He stood and offered her his hand. Together they stepped into the center aisle.
Deidre looked unsettled and her bravado dwindled.
Mrs. Atherton was the next to stand. “It was my sin of pride that kept me from adopting a child while I was still young enough to be a mum. Pride is a grave sin. The Lord’s forgiven me, but I’ve still had to live with the devastating consequences. William and I both have.” She looked tearfully at William and then at Hannah. “Please stay. I would miss you terribly.”
Deidre’s bluster had changed to anger. “Can ye hear yer—” “I believe you’ve said enough!” The reverend looked out over the congregation. “Please, all of you sit.” His gaze was gentle and loving. It rested on John and Hannah. “You also. Please.”
Everyone returned to their places. Deidre dropped into her seat with a huff and folded her arms over her chest. “She’ll have to go—”
“I said—enough.” The reverend turned the pages in his Bible. He stopped and looked out over the congregation. “Romans 3:23 says, ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ ” He smiled. “I’d say most of us know that verse, eh.”
There were words of agreement and nods.
“There is more—we rarely quote the rest of the verse.” He glanced down at the Scriptures and then read, slowly and resolutely, “And are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished—he did it to demonstrate his justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus.”
He looked out over the congregation. “Everyone in this room has sinned, no one is without fault. But God in his goodness and his kindness offered his Son as a sacrifice.” He looked at Hannah with kindness. “He looked down through the ages and he saw you, Hannah Bradshaw. And he sent his Son for you.”
He turned his gaze on Perry. “And he knew you, Perry, and you, Lydia and Catharine.” His gaze moved from one to the other, touching everyone in the church, including Deidre. “He knew and loved us all even before we were born. And it is his love that saves us. There is nothing we can do but trust in him.”
His eyes settled on Deidre. “He treated us with mercy and has asked that we imitate him and offer mercy to one another.”
Deidre slumped slightly lower in the pew, but her arms remained tightly clasped across her chest.
The reverend looked out over the church. “We are sinners; that is the sad truth. But we have been created anew and God sees us as holy and blameless because he chooses to.”
Again Hannah felt Thomas’s hand grasp hers. The ache inside her began to fade, and in its place she felt gratitude and wonder. She’d never experienced God’s love more powerfully. Unaware of her tears, she felt John’s arm go about her, and she pulled Thomas in close.
“God’s greatest commandment is that we love one another,” the reverend continued. “And in this church I shall do my best to see that we follow his decree.”
He looked at Deidre. “Everyone is welcome in the house of the Lord.”
Deidre stood. “I know what yer thinking—that I’m the worst of sinners.” She glared at the congregation. “I’m not. I know more ’bout most of ye than ye’d guess, more than ye’d want me to know. And I’ll not stay here to be judged by any of ye.”
Her hands clenched and her arms swinging at her sides, she strode to the back of the church, then stopped and looked at the congregation. “Yer a weak and pathetic lot.” She opened the door and stomped out.
The parishioners gaped at the church entrance and then turned back to Reverend Taylor. He looked bereaved, and then he did something unusual. He knelt beside the lectern and closed his eyes. Soon others were kneeling as well. Hannah and John and Thomas knelt together and prayed. The fragrance of worship filled the sanctuary.
When the reverend stood, Hannah saw tranquility in his eyes. And she recognized the same peace that lived within her own heart, a peace only God gives.
“Let us close with the hymn ‘O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done,’ ” the reverend said.
He began and the congregation joined in. A sound like angels’ voices swelled, and God’s divine and holy presence pervaded the room.
Hannah looked at John on one side and Thomas on the other. She’d had so little faith. How could I have forgotten thegoodness of God?
She closed her eyes and allowed her voice to rise toward heaven—
“ ‘The Son of God for me hath died; my Lord, my Love, is crucified.’ ”
Acknowledgments
A book is never created alone. There is always a team of people who work together to craft a story.
When I write I rely on others—experts who help me with the details needed to make a story live—editors who insure that what ends up on the page is written in a way that makes sense, writing buddies who hold me accountable and sharpen my work while I create. I’d never have the courage to begin a book without the assurance of a team behind the words.
And so, I owe thanks to many.
To my two editors at Revell, Lonnie Hull DuPont and Barb Barnes: Thank you, ladies. You are true professionals. I’m grateful for your commitment to quality work and for your friendship. Your expertise added luster to this book.
Once again, I had the help of my friends who live in Australia. Mary Hawkins, an Australian author, read the entire manuscript and helped catch errors that I didn’t see. And my friend and partner in research, Jayne Collins, shared many hours of her time to lend authenticity to this project. I am exceedingly grateful to you both.
And last but never least, I must say thank you to my critique group, my chums who worked through every page with me. When my deadline loomed, you gave more of yourselves and read chapters thrown at you in a hurry, making important suggestions and crucial corrections. Thanks to Sybilla Cook, Julia Ewert, Diane Gardner, Sarah Schartz, and Ann Shorey. Through the years, we’ve worked together and you’ve become more than critique partners; you’re dear friends and a gift to me from God.
Bonnie Leon dabbled in writing for many years but never set it in a place of priority until an accident in 1991 left her unable to work. She is now the author of several historical fiction series, including the Queensland Chronicles, the Matanuska series, the Sowers Trilogy, and the Northern Lights series. She also stays busy teaching women’s Bible studies, speaking, and teaching at writing seminars and conventions and women’s gatherings. Bonnie and her husband, Greg, live in southern Oregon. They have three grown children and four grandchildren.
Visit Bonnie’s website at www.bonnieleon.com.
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