Tony leaned toward the mic. “I was an agnostic, with a vague trust that Ruth’s prayers would be enough if there really happened to be a God somewhere. I didn’t want her preaching at me, and I actually forbade her to pray for Harry Silver. When he took her, I fell apart. God put me back together again once I let Him in.” He slid his arm around Ruth. “And He protected my wife and gave her back to me.”
Someone in the back of the room let out a piercing whistle that raised every hair on the back of Amy’s neck. A grin split Tony’s beard. “I agree.”
Ruth leaned into him for a second, then straightened. “God wouldn’t let up on me until I surrendered and started praying for Harry. He showed me how much His heart breaks to see a soul lost — even one as dark and damaged as Harry’s. Then I couldn’t stop, even at the risk of losing my marriage.”
She flashed Tony a private smile. “I thought it was about me, about my healing, and I did heal. But in hindsight, God was using those prayers to mitigate what He knew was coming. If you take one thing home from me tonight, let it be this — if we refuse to forgive, we wall ourselves in with the hurt. And we wall ourselves away from God’s healing. We also lock the offender into a place that makes it harder for him or her to experience God’s goodness.”
Amy dropped her eyes to avoid contact as Ruth gazed around the room. Not belonging to God, she didn’t have the option of His healing. It made sense that forgiving her father would cut off his rejection’s power to hurt her, though. It didn’t need to hurt now, because he was trying to retract it. The issue there was, did she want to lay down the grudge?
She twisted her hands in her lap, as if she could twist out from under the weight of Ruth’s message. Was carrying that grudge hurting her father somehow? If so, did it matter?
Childhood dreams welled, the fantasies she’d created about this man whose absence was a never-healing wound. He was a soldier, or a spy, on a dangerous mission. A scientist working on a top-secret cure for disease. An astronaut. He loved her, and missed her terribly. As soon as he could, he’d come home, sweep her into his arms, and never leave again.
A tear tracked Amy’s cheek. She brushed it away. Just like she’d brushed away those dreams in her teens. Yet the ache remained.
If the child-Amy had the chance now to meet her father, she’d run to him. She’d never hold back, or throw resentment between them.
But the child-Amy hadn’t been threatened with a restraining order if she contacted him again. Amy fished a tissue from her purse and blew her nose.
Aunt Bay shifted closer.
Amy leaned into the older woman’s shoulder. Even though Neal Williamson didn’t fit her childhood imaginings, he was her father. Enough of her dreams had attached to this man. She couldn’t refuse to meet him, lock him out of her life when he finally wanted in. It was too great a risk.
Rejecting her was wrong. Her father knew that, now, and he was trying to make things right. Forgiving him would be Amy’s step. With the decision, a weight seemed to slide off of her chest.
Amy tried to tune back into Ruth’s words, but her father’s face intruded. She knew what he looked like from the Internet, but not his mannerisms. His voice. They’d missed so many years together. Could they ever become close? Would they even like each other? Her father was willing to try. She’d try, too.
A change in the flow of sound brought Amy back to her surroundings. Audience members were asking questions. Amy scuffed her feet against the carpet. She’d come to learn, and then ignored what was said. But she’d forgiven her father. Perhaps she’d heard enough.
Amy listened to the interplay of questions and answers. “How do you let go of an offence that huge? How did praying for someone like Harry Silver change you? Tony, how could you forgive a man like that for what he tried to do to your wife? Did you ever blame God?”
Honest questions. Ruth and Tony gave honest-sounding answers, even if they didn’t all make sense to Amy. Not knowing the ins and outs of a relationship with God, she stretched to understand how a person could know what He was saying to them.
From the side, a man’s voice called, “A question for Ruth. You said God gave you a concern for Harry Silver’s soul. I get how praying helped you heal, and even influenced his decision to turn himself in instead of going through with his plans. But did you really believe God could save a man who did what he’s done?”
Ruth’s face lit up. She flashed a grin at her husband. “I am so glad you asked. We wanted to share this tonight, but I told God I needed a go-ahead from Him. You’re it.”
“Look at that, Clayton, you’re an answer to prayer!” The call came from the back. The same guy who’d whistled earlier?
Clayton turned in his seat and shot back, “Be sure to tell my wife.” Around Amy and Aunt Bay, people laughed.
Smiling, Ruth waited until the noise died before she spoke. “I’ve felt led to share my story, again for my own healing but also because I believe so strongly in the importance of prayer and forgiveness. And I’ve seen the hand of God in action. I’ve told my story. Harry’s is his own.”
She shifted from one foot to the other and back, as if she couldn’t keep still. Tony stepped to the side and turned to watch his wife. The love and pride on his face were everything Amy longed to see in Michael’s. Amy shut out her heart and focused on Ruth’s words.
Ruth continued, “The details will come out in the next Canadian Christian magazine, probably next week. You can get it at the Christian bookstore or online, or wait for his television interview in October.”
Amy didn’t recognize the name of the magazine or the television program. Why would Christian media talk with Harry, or he with them? She scuffed her fingertips against the weave of her jeans. Harry had no more likelihood of reconciliation with God than she did. Not after what he’d done. Conversation hummed around her.
Ruth spoke louder. “I can tell you Harry Silver went back to prison as a Christian. Forgiven, saved, and likely to spend the rest of his life in our highest-security institution in solitary confinement.”
Amy’s senses sharpened. She whispered to Aunt Bay, “How could that be?”
Did the older woman’s narrowed eyes mean she disagreed? Or was she considering the possibility?
Aunt Bay’s lips pressed into a line, then curved to a smile. She nodded. “A miracle, that’s how. That’s how it is for any of us, just not usually so spectacular. The Bible says that anyone may come to Jesus.” She held Amy’s gaze. “Even you. No matter what. And even Harry Silver. The miracle is that he’d want to.”
Why would a dangerous offender decide he wanted to belong to God? And how could he know God accepted him?
The noise brewed for another minute, before Ruth raised her hand. “If we could have quiet, please. Quiet?”
She waited until the buzz decreased. “What I just said has offended some of you. Feel free to take that up with God. But I encourage everyone to at least hear Harry out. Criminals with his level of guilt have been saved before. How can I believe it? I saw the change in him. And in communicating with him since he went back to prison, Tony and I have seen consistency in his words and spiritual growth. There’s no benefit to him to pretend about this — it’s not like he’ll get out early on good behaviour. He’s in custody until he dies.”
She paused. “Then he’ll be in Heaven. With you and me.”
More mutters from the crowd. Aunt Bay whispered, “That’ll twist some of them into a knot.”
Amy shifted sideways in her seat. “But you believe it?”
“Ruth and Tony believe it, and they’d know better than I. He’s convinced the people who interviewed him, too, or they’d never release the story. Which, by the way, I intend to check out.”
“But how could anyone be sure?” And how dare her criminal cousin take a step Amy couldn’t take? He was a serial rapist-murderer. She was simply a victim of her circumstances.
“Child, we have to talk. Soon.”
Amy’s thoughts whirled. The cond
emnation — disqualification — from her childhood said she had no chance with God. Without knowing the details, Aunt Bay promised she did. A handful of Christians versus one. Here tonight, Amy saw different opinions too.
She needed more than an opinion. She needed proof.
Chapter 18
Conversation continued for another half hour, mostly Ruth and Tony expressing certainty that God had accepted Harry, with some in the crowd celebrating the news and some arguing. As people began to leave, Amy asked Aunt Bay for directions to the washroom.
As she’d hoped, when she came back only a few stragglers remained. Aunt Bay stood chatting in a knot of women.
Projecting all the confidence she could, Amy approached the front of the room, where the speakers and a few others lingered. She caught Ruth’s eye. The dark-haired woman excused herself from the conversation and approached Amy. “Hi. You look like you have something on your mind.”
Amy stuck out her hand. “Amy Silver.” She snapped her mouth shut. Heat flooded her face. It was her standard professional greeting, but with Ruth, of all people, she’d planned to hide her connection with Harry.
Ruth’s eyes widened. She took Amy’s hand. “It’s good to meet you, Amy. Silver’s not a common name. I expect it’s hard to share it with a dangerous offender.”
“He’s my cousin. We’ve never met.”
She held Amy’s hand a little longer, then released it. The gesture didn’t look like it cost anything, but to Amy it was the difference between yet another rejection and acceptance.
Ruth’s face was open. Friendly. “Harry mentioned his sister and her son, but I didn’t know he had any other family.”
“His sister lived with my mom and me for a few years. He probably doesn’t know I exist.”
“You’re quite a bit younger than Harry.” Ruth seemed to brace herself. “How do you feel about his coming to faith?”
“I need to ask how you can be sure.”
Her face softened. “I saw the change, Amy. He couldn’t have faked it, and the man who abducted me wouldn’t have faked it. He was as God-hostile as they come.” She smiled. “You need to hear his story, but I promise you, he’s been transformed. Only God could do that.”
“But why?”
Ruth’s brows drew together. Her head dipped nearer to Amy’s. “Why what?”
“Why would God do that? Accept him, after all he’s done?”
Ruth’s laugh carried delight, not scorn. “Because He’s God, and He wants to save us all. Plus, it shows how powerful He is. Most of us don’t think it takes a lot of effort on His part to clean us up. Someone like Harry? People sit up and take notice.”
“How can you know? That He wants to save us all? Aren’t there limits?”
“Walk with me.” Ruth led her to the far end of the front row of seats. She sat, and beckoned Amy to join her. “I’m guessing you don’t know the Lord too well yet.”
Mistake. Sinful. What a shame. The words crashed into Amy’s thoughts. She shoved them away.
When Amy didn’t speak, Ruth asked, “If God saved Harry, what could keep Him from saving you?”
“But what if it’s not true?”
Ruth nodded gently. “As in, what if you risk it and the bottom falls out?”
Amy stared at her hands, clenched in her lap. “Beatrice — my friend who brought me — says what you say, that God can forgive anything. But that’s not what I was told as a child.”
“Amy…” Ruth’s voice was soft, motherly. Her arm slid around Amy’s shoulders. “Tell me what it is. It cannot be worse than what Harry did.”
“I need proof. If I trust people’s opinions but God thinks different—” The dam burst. “I’m illegitimate.” She braced for Ruth’s reaction.
The other woman shifted a bit closer. “And…?”
Amy stared at her knees. “My father went home to his wife. Mom never told him. They weren’t married.”
“And you’ve felt cut off from your Heavenly Father because of your parents’ decisions.”
“It wasn’t my sin — how could I confess it and be forgiven?”
“I see.”
Amy’s muscles tightened into a shield. Inside, hope bled out.
Ruth’s arm left Amy’s shoulders and she shuffled a few inches away. “Amy? Look at me, please.”
Jaw tight, Amy forced her tear-blurred eyes to make contact. To meet this verdict head-on. The compassion on Ruth’s face nearly undid her.
“Sympathy will just make it worse.” Could Ruth even hear her broken words?
Ruth’s expression didn’t change. “The Bible has many names to show God’s character. One of them is ‘Father to the Fatherless.’” She took Amy’s hands. “He adopts us. He knows we can’t earn our way into relationship with Him, so He does it for us.”
A ringing started in Amy’s ears. “Can you show me that? In the Bible?”
“Of course.” Ruth pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.
Released, Amy’s hands felt chilled. She tucked them under her arms. “Fatherless. I’ve been called that before. And worse.” The labels queued on her tongue, but she held them back.
“Here it is.” Ruth scrolled through text, then back to the top. “Psalm 68. It’s a bit long, and some of it won’t make sense to you, but listen to verse five. ‘A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.’” She passed Amy the phone to read for herself. “I can show you in my print Bible, now that I know where to look.”
“Please.”
Ruth walked away. Amy stayed focused on the text, tiny black words on a white screen. A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. She read verse six as well. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.
There was more, but Amy’s eyes snapped back to that one, heart-stopping phrase. Father to the fatherless.
Ruth settled beside her and extended her opened Bible, pointing to the text. “Sometimes seeing things in print makes them more real.”
Amy took the book. She slid her finger over the words on their smooth page. “Can I trust this? I’ve heard about people using the Bible to justify whatever they want.”
“You can trust it. People do take things out of context, and this is just one verse out of I don’t know how many in the whole Bible. Once God adopts you as His own, the journey really begins. Spending time with Him, reading the rest of this book… it’s a lifetime’s learning.”
After a minute, Amy looked up from the text. “So I have to take it on faith, and experience will prove it?” Or experience would prove she’d made a disastrous mistake. Would God actually zap her with lightning? Could she risk losing her half-life with Michael?
“Faith in God, yes, and in His word. Not faith in my opinion.” Ruth scanned the room. “You said you came with a friend. Is she still here?”
“She’d better be, or I’m walking home. But she doesn’t know about my parents.”
“Will she hold it against you?”
“Not unless she thinks God does.”
Ruth nodded. “Then let her be your second opinion about that verse. If you’re ready to tell her.”
Amy turned in her seat. Aunt Bay stood with her back to them. The two friends with her also faced away on an angle. “The church ladies when I was a child made it sound so terrible — so final. Even if Aunt Bay agrees, how can I be sure you’re right and they were wrong?”
“Amy, sin is anything that separates us from God… what we do, what we don’t do, our words, our attitudes. It can literally be anything. Sometimes Christians will get hung up on one or two pet sins and try to judge the whole world through that lens. That’s sin, too, although they don’t see it. Your parents’ choice was outside of God’s rules for healthy living. So was mine, to hate Harry when I found out what he’d done. So were some of the choices you’ve made. Nobody’s perfect. But God promises to forgive us when we ask, and to recei
ve us as His own if we’ll accept Jesus as our Lord and Saviour.”
Ruth lifted the Bible from Amy’s hands and set it, still open, on the seat beside her. “Do you want me to get her for you?”
“I’ll go.” Amy stood. “I’m sorry to take so much of your time. If you need to leave, I’ll ask her to look up the verse at home.”
Light danced in Ruth’s eyes. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You are so close to being adopted by the King of the Universe. He’s drawn up the agreement. It just needs your okay.”
The current of excitement in her voice tickled Amy’s waking hope. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as Amy started toward Aunt Bay, the woman on the right touched Aunt Bay’s sleeve. She and her friend stepped back, and Michael’s aunt turned to Amy, gentle questions on her face.
Amy beckoned.
Aunt Bay spoke quickly with her friends, then hurried to Amy’s side. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“Yes, you were, and it nearly killed you.” Amy set her shoulders. “Ruth believes like you do, that God can forgive anything.”
“Wise woman.”
“She showed me a verse. I want you to see it. To see if it applies to me.” Amy’s feet braced and her knees bent, as if preparing to physically lift the weight of her secret. “I’m illegitimate. My father planted the seed and left.”
Aunt Bay swept her into a bone-crushing hug. “You silly, sweet child, God doesn’t care about your pedigree. He cares about you.”
Hope buzzed in Amy’s heart, like cicadas on a summer night.
Aunt Bay squeezed tighter, then released her. “Let’s check out this verse.”
They walked back to Ruth, and Amy introduced the two women. Aunt Bay shook Ruth’s hand. “Thank you for your message tonight. And thank you for talking sense to this precious child who won’t listen to an old lady.”
Amy slid her foot sideways to tap Aunt Bay’s. “Don’t play the age card. The truth is worse. I was afraid you were wrong.”
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