A Love This True

by Leah Atwood

  They ran through everything they could without a Mary, but still no sign of Lara.

  A half hour into the practice, Mrs. Graff walked in, her lips in a solemn line. She sat next to him and spoke in a whisper, “We have a problem.”

  Everything in him fought not to groan. “Do I want to know?”

  “No, but you need to.” She shifted her gaze to the stage and back. “Why don’t you dismiss the kids for a snack break? I put some cookies and drinks in the fellowship hall.”

  The kids cheered when he announced they could break for a snack. What kid wouldn’t rather eat, when they weren’t into practice to begin with? He returned to Mrs. Graff with a sick feeling in his gut. “What’s our problem?”

  “Mary is pregnant and Joseph is the father.”

  He sucked in a long gulp of air and slowly let it out. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about the Bible characters?”

  She swayed her head side to side. “Aiden’s parents won’t let him come now, according to Lara.”

  “And Lara’s parents?”

  “They haven’t told them yet.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. If he ever again thought something would be easy, he’d eat the words before speaking them. “They need to know.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ll call them this evening. The sooner they know, the better.” His mind spun, playing out different scenarios and conversations.

  Mrs. Graff narrowed her eyes and trained them on him. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  Her vehemence threw him off guard. “Why not?”

  “It’s not your place.” She softened her expression. “Lara is a terrified seventeen-year-old in a situation she’s not old enough to understand. She’ll need her family’s support and the church’s. If you go behind her, you’ll put undue strain on those relationships.”

  “So I’m supposed to pretend I don’t have a pregnant teen in my ranks?”

  “Yes and no.” Mrs. Graff’s face showed calm and assurance. “Give her a few weeks, and she’ll do the right thing once she comes to terms with it. I’ve known her family for years, and while I suspect they’ll be disappointed, they’ll stand by her.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then we continue to stand by her and help however we can.”

  His stomach twisted, his nerves uneasy. “Isn’t that condoning premarital relations?”

  “Have you ever sinned, Elijah?”

  “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” The familiar scripture rolled off his tongue.

  “If you’re going to quote scripture, then let’s continue with the next verse. ‘They are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.’ Lara’s sorry for the choices she made, and it’s not our position to judge, but to show the same grace that Jesus has.”

  “It’s a gray area, though. Think of the example for our other teens.”

  “Mr. Brewer,” Mrs. Graff said through clenched teeth, “My daughter got pregnant out of wedlock and left because she believed her father and I wouldn’t stand by her. I spent over a year not hearing from her and never knowing if she was okay. I missed the first nine months of my granddaughter’s life. Just this week she came home and I don’t believe this is a coincidence. I will not stand by and let another girl suffer alone when we are in a position to help her.”

  He still wasn’t convinced, but to prevent creating an enemy at the church, he brought the conversation back to the play. “In the meantime, how do we have a play without a Mary and Joseph?”

  “Can any of the other teens step in?”

  “With two weeks to go? They just now nailed down their own parts. I’d hate to confuse them by switching now.”

  “What about someone who isn’t already in the play?” She stopped herself. “Never mind. I remember the struggle we had to get this crew. Times sure have changed. When my kids were in youth group, we had a plethora of teens to work with.”

  Pastor Gray came into the sanctuary from the side hall, shaking his head. “The kids are in rare form tonight.”

  “Christmas fever.” Mrs. Graff waved him over. “Do you have a minute? We could use your advice.”

  “I always have time for my church family.” Pastor Gray sat in the pew in front of them and rested an arm on the back. “What can I help with?”

  Mrs. Graff explained the situation to the pastor, and Elijah stepped in only when necessary, wise enough to know he didn’t have all the answers.

  “Hmm.” Pastor Gray stroked his chin. “Where’s Lara now?”

  “I sent her home,” Mrs. Graff answered. “Being here only upset her further.”

  “We’ll have to tread carefully as we move forward and cover these young people with prayer. We don’t want this one mistake to define their lives and take them further from God.”

  Elijah considered the pastor’s reaction, confused by his perceived acceptance. “You’re not upset?”

  “I am, but you’ll soon learn many situations arise that are out of your control, and that’s where discernment comes into play.” Pastor Gray crossed his arms. “We never want to approve of sin, but neither do we want to condemn the sinner. That’s not why we’re here.”

  “Then what do we do?” He didn’t miss the frown of disapproval Mrs. Graff shot him.

  “Like I said, we pray.”

  “What about the play? Do we cancel it?” He hated that idea. Today had been a cluster of disasters, but they had all worked too hard to toss it away.

  “I have an idea.” Mrs. Graff’s eyes twinkled.

  “Yes, Bonnie?” Pastor Gray gave her his attention.

  “I’ll ask Trixie.”

  Pastor Gray coughed. “Do you think that’s a wise idea?”

  Not having a clue where this was going, Elijah leaned back and listened. He knew Trixie was the Graff’s youngest daughter and the one who’d recently returned home with a baby, but that’s all he knew.

  “I’m not sure honestly, but she mentioned she’s ashamed to return to church.” Mrs. Graff sighed. “This could be her entry in, and the church’s way of showing she’s still welcome.”

  “It won’t look good, Bonnie. I want the best for Trixie, I do, but if I allow this, I’ll have to answer to a number of our members.”

  Aha! So Pastor Gray isn’t as nonchalant about unwed mothers as he let on. Even as he thought it, he felt guilty for having a gotcha moment, but at least he knew he hadn’t entered the twilight zone.

  “Has that ever stopped you before?” Mrs. Graff’s eyes met the pastor’s in a challenge. “Have you forgotten when several members decided they were upset the church had an Easter egg hunt and you staunchly defended the outreach?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?” Mrs. Graff didn’t back down—even became more staunch in her appeal.

  “It just is.” Pastor Gray wiggled under the weight of her scrutiny.

  “Because an egg hunt reaches more people?”

  “Well, there is that.”

  Mrs. Graff raised her eyebrows. “But didn’t Jesus leave the ninety-nine for one?”

  “That’s not fair.” Pastor Gray’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

  Elijah continued to observe, mesmerized by the interaction. Somewhere in the midst of this, there were lessons to learn and unpack, but they were hidden from his understanding.

  “Life’s not fair, George. We all know that.” Mrs. Graff loosened her aggressive stance. “Trixie might not even agree. All I’m asking is for the opportunity to invite her participation. She’s hurting and needs our love.”

  Pastor Gray released another sigh. “I’ve seen how you and Ray have suffered in Trixie’s absence and Hunter’s incarceration. We don’t always understand why our children make the decisions they do, especially when they were raised by great parents, but if you think this will bring Trixie back to church, then you have my okay to ask her to play Mary.”

  “Thank you.” A bittersweet smile didn
’t display the victory on Mrs. Graff that Elijah had expected after her fierce offense. “If anyone gives you grief, I’ll take the blame.”

  “No, this is my church, and I’ll stand behind my decisions.” Pastor Gray stood. “You focus on your daughter and being her support.”

  “If Trixie plays Mary, who will play Joseph?” Elijah looked to Pastor Gray. “It would hardly be appropriate to have a teen paired with a grown woman.”

  “That’s easy.” Pastor winked at Mrs. Graff then smiled at Elijah. “You’ll be Joseph.”

  “But…” The sharp jerk of the pastor’s eyes cut off any protest, but Elijah had lots of thoughts he’d need forgiveness for later. “Okay, I’ll be Joseph.”

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t do this, Mom.” Trixie stood in the bathroom at church, staring at herself in full costume. Anxiety had taken root in her spirit earlier that day and wouldn’t let go. “How can I go in front of all these people pretending to be a virginal teen about to give birth to the Savior of the world? I’m the last person He’d want to take this role.”

  “Or maybe you’re the exact person to play Mary.” Mom slid an arm around her shoulder, and they looked in the mirror together. “What do you see?”

  “A young woman who looks older than she is, who’s hurt her family because of her own selfishness, and messed up royally in life.”

  Mom squeezed her close. “Do you know what I see? My beautiful daughter who is trying hard to give her own daughter the best life possible. A woman who has made mistakes like every other person in this world, and one whom God loves. If we were all perfect, we wouldn’t need Jesus, would we?”

  “No, but—”

  “But nothing. Sins have different consequences, but they’re all equal in that they separate us from God. And when you look at it that way, there’s no difference between you running off or me putting too much pressure on you.”

  “I’m still not convinced. But thank you.” She looked again in the mirror. In the two weeks since she’d come home, her appearance had changed for the better. Her rich brown hair shined once again, and her hazel eyes sparked with life. She’d gained a few pounds which filled out her cheeks, and she no longer looked sickly.

  Life had improved greatly, but the emotional and spiritual trauma would take longer to heal.

  “One day at a time, that’s all you can do.” Mom let go of her and stepped back. “I have to get everyone into position. Will you be okay?”

  “I guess.”

  After her mom left, Trixie went outside. She leaned against the exterior brick wall and breathed in the freezing air. Most of the people who’d be in attendance tonight had known her since she was a baby, and they also knew her story. They knew she’d run off and disappeared, then recently returned with a baby in tow.

  She could only imagine the gossip flying around. Where had she gone? Who was the dad? Why was she back?

  How had Mom even convinced the pastor to have her play Mary? First Community Church had never been known for lenient policies. Many members still wore suits and Sunday best dresses, unlike Jasper Lake Bible which was known for its more laidback atmosphere. To be honest, that’s where she’d thought she’d try attending church, once she decided to step foot in one again.

  As fate, or a higher power, would have it, here she was, playing Mary at her childhood church where everyone’s eyes would be on her. So much for an inconspicuous return. However, she knew if she had Pastor Gray’s acceptance, no one would say anything. Not to her face at least. As long as they didn’t treat Alice any different. They could ignore her or be false friends or whatever to her, but she wouldn’t have her daughter slighted.

  She hadn’t needed to worry about that so far. When she’d dropped Alice off at the nursery earlier, Mrs. Whitman had fussed over her like she would her own grandchild. Her prodigal return had been too easy thus far. It should make her happy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling the anvil would fall soon.

  Three cars pulled into the parking lot, letting her know it was time to go inside. Mom and Elijah Brewer wanted every cast member in place before the church members arrived, otherwise it would “break the magic of theatre”.

  However, if it made Mom happy, she’d do it. Jessa and Phoebe had filled her in on Mom’s changed behavior during the time she’d been gone. They said she’d been a shell of herself, which only made Trixie double her guilt. If she had any consolation, it was that Mom seemed to have bounced back with an admirable inner strength.

  She didn’t realize how cold she was until she stepped back inside the warmth of the building. She stood still under a vent and let the heat seep through her before going upstairs and waiting in the small cry room off the sanctuary, her staging place where she’d wait until she and Joseph made their entrance.

  A group of angels scurried across the sanctuary, chatting and giggling. Trixie couldn’t stop her smile. She remembered those days well, had enjoyed the fun of dressing in glittery white while huddling with her best friends and gossiping while waiting for their turn to perform.

  Christmas music played softly on the speakers, setting the tone for when the audience arrived. Electric candles glowed in each window and greenery added subtle touches to the décor. Half of the stage had been transformed to a makeshift, cardboard Bethlehem, while the other resembled a field. More painted boxes sat in the baptistry side room, ready to fill out Bethlehem after the shepherds had their first scene.

  Trixie wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Walking slowly, she headed toward the cry room and said a prayer she’d survive the night. Especially being in close proximity to the youth pastor, Elijah Brewer.

  She didn’t care for him and suspected the feeling was mutual. It wasn’t anything specific he’d done, but the vibe he gave off. He didn’t approve of her and judged her situation. His upturned nose made that very clear, but he was too much of a minister to say anything outright.

  The room was empty, and relief flooded her. Even if only for a few minutes, she’d have peace before his arrogant, self-righteous attitude filled her space. She closed the door behind her and sat in the rocking chair. She’d never understood the importance of a cry room, but now that she had a child of her own, she thought it ingenious.

  Once, when Alice was only three weeks old, Trixie had tried to go to church. Since she didn’t know anyone, she didn’t want her baby in the nursery and took her to the service with her. Alice had cried the entire time, and she’d ended up leaving early. That, combined with the lies she’d told about Alice’s father—she’d told people he had to work on Sundays—she’d never returned.

  The door opened and Elijah walked in dressed in a long tan muslin costume with a burgundy robe overtop. A striped piece of cloth covered his head, secured with a length of rope. Next to her robin-egg blue costume and white sash, they looked the parts of their characters.

  He closed the door, not appearing to notice her at first. Fingers spread, he tapped each one as though going through a checklist. “I think that’s everything.”

  “Everything for what?” It’s the first time she initiated a conversation with him, but maybe it would break through this thick shield of ice.

  His head snapped upward, and he looked at her with surprise. “Little things I needed to finish before the play.” He glanced around, scratched his neck. “I didn’t realize you were here already.”

  “‘Everyone in place by five-thirty’ I remember the rules.”

  “Right.” His gaze darted from side to side, refusing to stay put. He shifted positions, clearly uncomfortable. He reached over and opened the door wide.

  “Mom said the door needs to stay closed, so no one sees.”

  He stood by the doorframe. “It’s for appearance’s sake. A grown man and woman alone in a closed room wouldn’t look right.”

  She rubbed a hand over her mouth and down her neck, trying to stay calm. “There’s a window right in front of us. If anyone wants to check on us, they can look in from th
e sanctuary and see that everything is completely on the up and up.”

  “Yes, but with my position and your history, we must be extremely cautious.”

  That’s it. I’ve had enough of his pompous attitude. Deep within her something welled—courage to speak for all who had been cast out, not accepted, told their sins were too great. “You are the exact reason people leave churches.”

  “What do you mean?” Creases formed on his forehead and he appeared genuinely confused by her statement.

  “If I didn’t have a daughter, would you still think your precious reputation would be compromised right now with that door closed?”

  “No—yes—maybe.”

  “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to step foot in this building? I knew I’d be subjected to judgment, and quite frankly, there’s nothing you or anyone else can think of me that’s worse than what I’ve believed.” She surged to her feet, met his eyes with a steady glare. “Most days I hate myself for the things I’ve done, and I struggle to believe a holy God would want anything to do with me. When I come here, and have you and others treat me like this, it’s only confirmation that I’m too far gone.”

  He swallowed, and she had to respect he didn’t launch into an immediate defense. “Everyone is welcome in this church.”

  “Are they? Are they really?” She held out a pointed finger. “Because I can tell you right now, I don’t feel welcomed by you. And you know what else, if I can feel your judgment, then I’m sure Lara does as well—which is a crying shame.”

  “This isn’t about Lara.” His hands clenched into fists. “Look, I’m sorry. I honestly meant no offense.”

  “You treated me like a common harlot.” She lowered her arm to her side. “I made mistakes and I own them, but it’s those errors in judgment that probably make me the safest woman to be around because I can guarantee you that I’ve learned from them. I have zero interest in any type of relationship with a man, and if I ever decide I’m back on the market, it won’t be for a self-righteous, pious youth minister like you.”

  Elijah straightened his back. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”