The Forgiving Hour

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  On this evening, three weeks after that fateful encounter, Sara took her Bible and a blanket and walked down to the river. For a long while, she simply stared at the rushing water, her thoughts similarly rushing over the events of the past, from the day she’d met Dave to the last time she’d seen Claire.

  So much hate in her eyes.

  Shame washed over her afresh.

  She has good reason to hate me.

  She bowed her head as she crushed her Bible against her chest.

  0 God, help me. I know You’re here, but I don’t feel Your presence. I feel so far from You. I feel so unworthy, so hopeless. Help me to hear You. Quiet my heart and my mind so I can hear Your voice.

  With more desperation than faith, she opened the Word, reading a passage, flipping pages, reading more, flipping more pages, and reading again. And as daylight faded, a brighter light began to burn in her chest as the Lord answered her prayer.

  1 I have loved you with an everlasting love … He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy … For God is love …

  “For God is love,” Sara repeated in a whisper. She looked off toward the sunset. “And You rejoice over me with shouts of joy.”

  Surely she had known this before, that He loved her, that He’d forgiven her, that her only hope was in Him.

  Hope in Him.

  That was the difference. That’s what He’d wanted her to come to understand. Her hope was in Him and Him alone, because He loved her so completely.

  “This is what I saw in Dakota’s eyes, isn’t it? This hope, despite the circumstances.”

  No wonder the world didn’t understand. It went against all reason that, with her heart still broken, she could feel this blanket of peace wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It didn’t change the circumstances, but it changed Sara.

  Her mother was right. Hope was greater than despair. No matter how deep she sank, God’s provision was there to raise her up again.

  Grace. At last she understood what He’d been telling her these many weeks. His grace wasn’t earned. It was freely offered, not just when she’d first believed, but throughout the remainder of her life.

  “Awesome,” she whispered. “Truly awesome.”

  As if summoned by her discovery came a most beloved voice.

  “Sara.”

  She wasn’t even surprised. Without turning to look at him, she said, “Hello, Dakota.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “No, I don’t mind.”

  He sank onto the ground beside her. “Beautiful sunset.”

  “Yes.”

  “How are you?”

  She turned toward him at last. Her heart did a little skip. “I’m better.”

  He smiled gently, and she knew he understood the deeper meaning in her words.

  “You’ve been reading quite a while.” He pointed to the Bible in her lap. Then, in explanation, he added, “I was watching. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  She considered his comment. “No, I don’t mind.” I’m glad you’re here.

  The sun sank beneath the horizon. The clouds faded from pastel to gray. Night settled over the earth like a gigantic black cloak. Crickets chirped their evening songs. Someone was barbecuing, and the delicious aroma was carried to the river’s edge on the evening breeze.

  Tenderly, “I love you, Sara.”

  “I love you too.” I always will.

  “I need to tell you something, and I think you need to hear it.”

  She waited.

  “You’re still washed white as snow in my eyes.”

  Tears welled. A lump formed in her throat. “Oh, Dakota.”

  “There’s more. I don’t know why I feel so sure. I can’t predict the future. But I know this is going to turn out all right, no matter what happens between us or with my mom. It’s going to be okay.”

  “I know.” Still fighting tears, she rested her arms on her knees, her chin on her arms. “I feel it too.” She straightened and placed her right palm over her heart. “I feel it in here.”

  Neither of them had to say aloud that they couldn’t marry without Claire’s blessing. They didn’t have to. It was simply understood. Like it or not, they were bound by his mother’s unforgiveness. Unhappiness and heartache accompanied the knowledge, but a greater comfort triumphed over all.

  “You’ve decided not to move to Denver?”

  “No, I’m not going to Denver.” Shrouded by the newly fallen darkness, Sara smiled sadly. “I’m not running away again. I’ll stay.” She looked toward him even though she could no longer see his face. “I was brought back to Boise for a reason. I thought for a while that it was to meet you, but now I’m convinced it was to experience God’s love in its fullness.”

  “I wish my mom could —”

  “Don’t.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t change anything, but I still wish—”

  “No.” She drew a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. “Sometimes, Dakota, God says no.”

  Are you looking at the splinter in her eye when there’s a log in your own?

  How unfair it was of Kevin to have asked that, Claire thought as she made herself a late-night decaf cappuccino. Even weeks later, his question continued to echo in her mind.

  “I’m so tired of it all,” she whispered.

  She was tired of feeling guilty. She was tired of her own unhappiness. She was tired of the anger that rose so quickly whenever she thought of Dakota and Sara together.

  Turning her back to the counter, she noticed her Bible lying on the kitchen table. She felt a pull toward it, but she resisted. She hadn’t read the Word in weeks. She hadn’t prayed either. She missed that special fellowship with the Lord, but she just couldn’t seem to do it.

  A log in her own eye. Maybe that was why. Maybe she couldn’t see because of the log.

  “I forgave Dave already. Isn’t that enough?”

  She knew the answer. She knew it wasn’t enough.

  She walked over to the table. Still standing, she placed her fingertips on the leather cover of her Bible.

  Lazarus. The Voice was clear and strong. Lazarus.

  Claire’s concordance was in the den. She could find the story of Lazarus. She could find answers if she was willing to look for them.

  She riffled the pages of the Bible, then stubbornly turned her back toward the table, muttering, “I can’t. I just can’t do it.”

  FORTY-THREE

  “I can’t change the way I feel,” Claire told Kevin when he called her the next day at the office.

  “Of course you can. It’s your choice. You have the ability to forgive and be set free from your bitterness. If you’d just —”

  “Everyone always has such pat answers. It isn’t that simple. I’ve read that feelings aren’t right or wrong, they just are. It’s what you do in response to your feelings that counts.”

  His silence said more than any words would have.

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore, Kevin. Please. Let’s talk about when you’ll be in Boise next.”

  “I can’t get away until the Fourth of July weekend.”

  The Fourth. The day Dakota was to have married Sara.

  “I thought I’d fly in on Friday and stay until Tuesday afternoon. Does that work for you?”

  She shook off the memory of what was supposed to have occurred on the fourth, then said, “Perfect. I’ll plan a barbecue. We’ll have Alana and Jack over and a few other friends. But no shoptalk. One word from you and Jack about the Seattle office or any other business, and I’ll burn both your steaks. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Kevin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Keep praying for me.” Because I’m unable to pray for myself.

  “You know I will.”

  “I’d better get back to work. Do you want me to put you through to Jack?”

  “No, I’ll have to call him tomorrow. I
’ve got an appointment in half an hour.”

  They said their good-byes and hung up. For a long while afterward she stared at the phone, thinking how little she deserved someone like him.

  Would her stubbornness — her unwillingness to let go of the past, once and for all — ruin things between them? She knew he loved her. But would he continue to if she didn’t change her attitude?

  She turned her chair toward the plate-glass window and stared out at the golden summer day.

  The Fourth of July. A perfect day for a wedding. Only not anymore.

  But wasn’t it better this way? Dakota seemed willing to forgive Sara, but surely that couldn’t last. Marriage was a difficult proposition. The first time dissension or disagreement arose, he would remember that she’d once had an affair with his own father and the past would rise between them. They couldn’t possibly be happy. It would eventually destroy them. No, it was better that it had ended.

  O God …

  But that was as far as she could go with a prayer, and it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough.

  Lazarus.

  Her pulse quickened. This was the third time she’d heard that word in her heart and known what she was to do. The story of Lazarus held the answer. She would find a message there, if only she would look.

  But she was afraid of what she might have to do once she read it, and so she refused to obey. Sometimes, she thought, ignorance was bliss.

  “Hey, Mom. You ready to get that cast off?”

  She spun her chair around to find her son leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb. “I didn’t expect you so —” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh my goodness. I didn’t know it was that late.” Quickly, she grabbed her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk.

  “Bet it’ll feel good to get rid of that thing,” he said as she came toward him.

  “You have no idea how good.” She touched his shoulder. “But I will miss seeing you so often, not to mention all this private chauffeuring about town.”

  “I’m glad I could do it for you.”

  Looking into his eyes, Claire saw nothing but love.

  Lazarus, beloved.

  The medical center’s elevator doors opened before Sara — and there was Dakota with his mother. Panic threatened to smother her. There was no graceful way to escape. The best she could hope for was to avoid eye contact while she slipped past them.

  Only she made the mistake of looking up instead of down. Her gaze met his, and she found herself unable to move.

  “Hello, Sara.” He stepped into the elevator, bringing his mom in with him, steering her with a hand on her back.

  “Hello.”

  “What brings you here? You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No. Just an errand in the building.”

  “Thank God.” He smiled sadly. “Mom gets her cast off today.”

  She couldn’t avoid it any longer. She glanced toward Claire. “You must be relieved about that.”

  “Yes.” The single word couldn’t have seemed colder.

  “Well …” She forced herself to smile, hoping it looked friendly rather than frightened. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Before the doors could close and trap her within, she stepped out of the elevator.

  “Take care,” Dakota called after her.

  She turned just in time to catch a final glimpse of Claire. But instead of anger and hatred, Sara thought she saw confusion in the woman’s eyes. Then the doors closed.

  I know you’ve forgiven me, Lord. But is it possible she’ll be able to do the same one day? Or do I want too much? Is this merely the cross I must bear?

  Sara walked out of the lobby and into the bright sunshine. A mirage shimmered on the parking lot’s surface as heat waves rose from the blacktop. A siren screamed as an ambulance exited the freeway and sped toward the emergency entrance of the hospital. She could smell the exhaust from the many cars waiting at the busy intersection on Fairview Avenue.

  When she opened her car door, a blast of heat rushed out to meet her. A swim in her complex’s pool sounded like a good idea, she thought as she got in and started the engine. But when she pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic, she steered her automobile toward the freeway on-ramp instead of heading for her apartment, realizing that what she needed most was a dose of her mother’s unconditional love.

  She found Kristina weeding the vegetable patch. Her mother wore a large, floppy-brimmed straw hat and a loose-fitting denim dress. Her feet and legs were bare.

  After a quick greeting, Sara hurried inside and up the stairs to her old room. In the dresser she found a pair of worn cutoffs and a faded, sleeveless blouse. She removed her suit jacket, skirt, and pantyhose, then dressed in the shorts and summer top before hurrying, barefooted, back outside.

  “Where can I help, Mom?”

  Kristina removed her hat and brushed red curls away from her forehead with the back of her wrist. Squinting up at her daughter, she said, “The carrots could use thinning.” She pointed with her spade.

  Sara nodded, then went to the far corner of the garden. Kneeling in the dirt, she asked, “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s over taking a look at Frank Eden’s new tractor. He’s probably salivating by this time.”

  Sara laughed, knowing it was true.

  “I’m looking forward to the day he retires, and he’s trying to figure out how we can buy the forty acres behind us. Men.” The single word was spoken with great affection.

  Men.

  Sara thought of Dakota. She missed him so much. Seeing him this afternoon had only made the missing worse. She knew in her heart that God would cause all things to work together for good. Even in this situation. She’d found a deeper peace and joy in her new closeness with the Lord and in her fresh understanding of His great love for her.

  But only time would ease the sense of loss that lingered whenever she remembered Dakota and the happiness they’d once shared, however briefly.

  At his mom’s invitation, Dakota stayed for dinner. It wasn’t like he had any place urgent to go.

  After asking if he could help prepare the food and being refused, he went outside to the backyard. He set the oscillating sprinkler and turned on the water. Then he settled in one of the lounge chairs on the covered patio.

  And he thought of Sara.

  No surprise there. He thought of her a lot. The memory was always bittersweet, poignant. He wondered if it would always be so. He closed his eyes, remembering the way she’d looked when those elevator doors opened and they’d seen each other. As pretty as ever, but too thin. He hoped she was eating better, now that she’d found that place of peace in the Lord.

  He heard the patio door open and looked toward it as Claire stepped outside, carrying a large bowl of tossed salad in one hand and a bottle of salad dressing in the other. He quickly got up to take them from her.

  “The rest will be right out,” she said.

  He placed the bowl in the center of the round patio table and followed his mother back inside.

  It wasn’t long before they were seated at the table, enjoying both the food and the occasional mist off the sprinkler. They laughed over Claire’s clumsiness when using her left hand, weakened as it was from weeks in the cast. They talked about work and church. It was almost normal. Almost.

  Suddenly, Claire’s expression turned solemn. “You still love her, don’t you? Even knowing what she did, you still love her.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And you still want to marry her?”

  He could see her struggling to understand. “Yes, I do.”

  “I know your readiness to forgive.” She looked off into the distance. “You’ve been like that for many years. But how could you forget? How could you forget that your father … touched her? That he was intimate with her?”

  He searched for the right words with which to answer.

  “Dakota, isn’t it better just to let her go? There are other women for you to meet, women who —”

/>   “Mom.” He waited for her to look at him again. When she did, he continued, “I can’t tell you why or how I can forget. I just know God’s made it possible. There’s a part of me that understands what you’re saying. It’s a normal, human reaction. I won’t say I wasn’t shocked, that I didn’t feel anger and disappointment and confusion. But then, something happened inside me. Something …”

  He let his words drift into silence, seeing in his mother’s eyes that she couldn’t accept what he was saying. Not yet. Besides, how did one illustrate the power of God to change a person’s heart? It was a miracle, and miracles couldn’t be explained.

  Claire looked away a second time. “You won’t marry her as long as I have any objections, will you?”

  “No.”

  She released a sigh. He couldn’t be sure if it was out of relief or sorrow.

  FORTY-FOUR

  No condemnation.

  There’d been no condemnation in Dakota’s eyes or in his voice when he’d answered Claire. Not even when he’d admitted he still loved Sara and wanted to marry her. Not even when he’d said he wouldn’t marry her as long as Claire objected.

  Even with all that, he didn’t condemn her, he didn’t judge her. He simply loved her. He’d forgiven her without even being asked.

  How was it possible? Claire didn’t understand.

  No, that wasn’t true. She did understand. He didn’t forgive out of his own strength. It was Christ in him, the hope of glory. It was what Kevin had tried to tell her, but she’d refused to listen.

  At midnight, restless and sleepless, her thoughts churning, her emotions raw, Claire could bear it no longer. She retrieved her Bible and concordance and carried them to her favorite chair in the living room. Once there, she looked up Lazarus. With a glimmer of hope, she turned to the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John and began to read.

  She wasn’t unfamiliar with the story of Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. She’d read the entire New Testament while in Seattle. And because she knew the story, she hadn’t understood what possible relevance it could have in her situation. It seemed completely unrelated.