Finally, he picked up the third envelope. This one was concerning a mom with twin girls and a baby boy. The woman who received Erin’s heart. John didn’t fight his tears as he read the letter from the woman’s husband. His wife would be dead by now, he said, if not for Erin’s heart. He told a little about how the two of them had fallen in love, and how at the right time the children had come along. The next part of the man’s letter was more difficult to read.
We aren’t Christians, like you and your family. It’s difficult to believe in a God who would allow tragedy and triumph indiscriminately. But I sense a change in my wife lately. Like she’s searching for something. It makes me wonder about the connection she has to your daughter. Karma or something. Anyway … since you are a religious person, I would ask you to pray for us. It can’t hurt. Your daughter’s precious gift to my wife has given all of us new life. Thank you seems inadequate, but still we are thankful with every minute, every day. Perhaps we will meet sometime. I have to wonder if my wife would feel connected to you in some way. Sincerely, Moe Bryant.
John’s eyes were dry as he finished the letter. Karma? His stomach hurt as he looked over the man’s words again. God working in the lives of His people indiscriminately? John wasn’t sure what he expected, or if somehow he thought that everyone who received an organ donation must’ve been a praying believer, but this left him unsettled. Erin’s heart beating in the chest of a person without faith?
But even before he could take the matter to God, a dawning of understanding began to come over him. Maybe receiving Erin’s heart was only the beginning for Moe’s wife. What had his letter said? John searched back to find the text. The man saw a change in his wife, like she was searching for something. Clearly that something was a faith in Christ — the way all people were designed with a desperate need for the Savior. Suddenly a smile came over him and he leaned back in his chair.
Erin would’ve loved this development. While she was alive, she was constantly involved in church ministry, serving one way or another. And she loved running into people who wanted to know about her faith. A memory flashed in his mind, a time when most of the Baxter family served dinner at the mission in downtown Bloomington. Erin and Sam lived nearby at the time, and they had brought their four girls to help serve.
“Jesus wants us to do this, right, Mommy?” Heidi Jo had asked the question in the moments before the doors opened. The little girl wore plastic gloves as she placed a cookie on each meal tray. John stood on one side of her, dishing out salad, and Erin stood on the other, lining up the first few trays in anticipation of the rush of people waiting outside.
Erin’s answer stayed with John still. She looked at her daughter and smiled. “Loving people in the name of Jesus is the only reason we’re alive. So, yes. Jesus wants us to do this.”
John thought about the letter again, and the man’s mention that perhaps they would meet sometime. He made a point of following up, making the visit happen. He had a feeling that the man was searching, too, and that in time John and Elaine could play an important role in helping the Bryant family find the faith they were missing.
A soft chuckle sounded in John’s throat. Of course God had worked it out this way. The transplant recipient could’ve been handpicked by Erin. A new heart could only buy the woman a few decades of life. John smiled, grateful for the glimpse of what had to be God’s plan in all this. Because now there was a possibility that Erin’s heart might not only give the woman immediate life.
But life everlasting.
Twenty-Six
FOURTH OF JULY WEEKEND A YEAR AFTER THE ACCIDENT WAS A low-key affair, and Ashley was glad. A few of them headed down to the lake, and then back to the Baxter house. But now another summer had gone by and the Labor Day picnic was upon them. The one where they would all get together and stage the fishing derby.
The one where memories of a year ago wouldn’t dominate the day, but rather they would be focused on the thing that had taken their place. The Baxter family’s determination to live.
Ashley finished packing their picnic and a few bags of supplies. Then she called for the kids. “Cole … make sure you grab the towels.”
“Okay.” He was seventeen that summer, driving and looking at colleges. For the most part he had decided on Indiana University — music to Ashley’s ears, since he’d be close by. He started toward the stairs. “Want me to make sure the girls are ready?”
“Yes, thanks!” Ashley laughed.
He started to walk off, but then he stopped and turned back to her. “Remember last summer … how I started talking about finding information about my birth dad?”
Ashley felt a flicker of the shock she’d felt that summer morning more than a year ago when he brought the subject up back then. This was the first time since then that he’d mentioned it. She nodded slowly. “I remember. Are you thinking about it again?”
“No.” His smile came from the deepest, most tender place in his heart. “This last year … I learned something about family. Like it’s not about blood alone. It’s being connected … it’s growing up together and loving each other. It’s believing in the same God and knowing you’d do anything for the person across from you at dinner. Like Amy.”
“Cole.” Ashley leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to catch her breath. She had never loved her oldest son more than now. “Wow … that was beautiful.”
He shrugged in the casual way he had about him. His eyes shone with a peace that hadn’t been there a year ago. “It’s true.” He pointed toward the stairs. “I’ll go get the girls.”
The girls were never ready on time, but the reason was a good one. The two had become very close. They were nearly five years apart, but Amy seemed to have an extra sense of love and concern for her little cousin. Her little sister.
Devin came barreling down the stairs, a grin on his face. “Today’s the day.”
“Yes it is.” Ashley crossed her arms and studied her younger son. Devin was growing again, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. “It’s the day the Lord has made, for sure.”
“Mom!” Devin erupted into a few seconds of giggling. “Not that.” His eyes grew suddenly wide. “I mean, yes. It’s the day the Lord has made definitely.” He was clearly beyond happy, giddy from the excitement of the coming day. “I mean this is the day we win the fishing derby.” He raised his fist in the air. “It’s time for the Blake Boys to make a comeback.”
Ashley smiled. “Okay, then today’s the day for that, too.”
He hurried off calling for Landon. “Dad … you have the fishing gear and the tackle box?”
From somewhere in the garage came Landon’s muffled response. Ashley breathed it in, the sounds and smells of a day like this. Every summer, every picnic at the lake with the whole family made her think they’d always have these special times. But that wasn’t true. Erin’s accident proved as much. Cole and Devin, Janessa and Amy … they would all grow up and find their ways into families of their own.
Maybe their future families would have the chance to meet at Lake Monroe for Fourth of July or Labor Day celebrations. But maybe not. All they really had was this single, beautiful, sunny summer day. The end of another summer.
Ashley walked to the playroom and studied her newest painting, the one she had created in place of the one that used to hang here. Now the painting was more full. Her mother still sat in a rocking chair at the center of the piece of art, and baby Sarah was still in her arms. But now Erin stood beside her, one arm loosely placed around their mother’s shoulders, her smile filling her face. Beside her was Sam and scattered all around them were the girls — Clarissa and Chloe and Heidi Jo — all of them alive and vibrant looking. She had painted Clarissa’s face midlaugh — the way she still remembered her dear niece.
The painting had been a healing part of the past year. She finished it the day before Easter. Appropriate, she told herself. On the weekend most celebrated for new life, that she could provide for her
family a picture straight from her heart. The picture she carried with her of those they loved, at home in heaven.
“Ashley?” Landon was looking for her.
She stepped out of the playroom and saw him headed her way. The sound of his voice, the look in his eyes still warmed her heart and made her marvel at the fact that he was really here, the man God had given her. As long as she drew breath she would be grateful for him. They came together in an easy hug, their eyes and hearts and souls connected. “Hey,” his voice was low and marked by the passion between them. “You ready?”
“Mmmm. Not if you talk to me in that tone.” She grinned, enjoying him. “We could always leave in half an hour.”
He laughed. “How did I get so blessed? Marrying you, Ashley Baxter Blake?”
“The blessing has always … always been mine.” Her teasing tone gradually eased. “Thanks for staying … thanks for loving me.”
“Mom! Everyone’s in the —” Cole jogged into view from the front door. He stopped when he saw them and his laughter joined Landon’s. “Okay, you two. Are we leaving or what?”
“Leaving!” Landon grabbed his tackle box from the counter. He flashed Ashley a smile as he walked past her. “You’re always distracting me.” He winked at her. “You heard the boy, everyone’s waiting.”
THE PICNIC ENDED UP BEING ONE of their best yet. Ashley sat with Kari and Brooke at a table not too far from the water, watching the kids play Frisbee and football in the shallow water. Even the fishing derby had been the closest contest in years, and true to his prediction, the Blake men finally won. Twenty-one fish caught in thirty minutes. A new Baxter Fishing Derby record.
Like always, the Flanigan family joined them. Bailey and Brandon had been married for more than a year, their Christian theater business in town thriving beyond what they had dreamed. Dayne and Katy were expecting another baby — a brother for Egan, and they were talking about wrapping things up in LA and making their home base Bloomington once more.
Beside her, Brooke and Kari talked about the crisis pregnancy center, the one Brooke and Ashley had opened. Brooke and her teenage girls — Hayley and Maddie — had started a Bible study at the center every Saturday morning. It was an outreach to teens who had changed their minds about wanting an abortion. Brooke was going on, telling Kari about two new girls in the study and how they wanted to know more about God.
Ashley stopped listening. Her mind was too full of the wonder all around her, the way they had survived last year’s loss. She spotted Amy playing with Devin and Malin and RJ — the cousins closest to her age. “Let’s say you have to chase the girls first.” Amy gave Malin a high five. “Because we’re faster!”
“Okay,” Devin looked at RJ. “Here we come!” The two boys set off after the girls, and against a backdrop of squealing and laughter the chase was on.
Amazing, Ashley thought. The resiliency of a child. The resiliency of all of them, really. She remembered watching a documentary once on Southern California wildfires, and being struck by the before and after pictures. After a fire swept through, the ground and everything in the path of the fire was charred black without any sign of life. But just a year later, fresh new grass lay thick across the place where once there had only been ashes. The trees held new buds and branches, and construction had replaced the burned-down buildings.
Beauty from ashes — much the way God had given it to them over the last fourteen months. Or like her father once said: This too shall pass. The heartache and grief and horror of the accident were something they would remember, but time had brought healing. She breathed in deep and surveyed the laughter and joy around her, their family gathered again. Survivors, all of them. A year later, life reigned.
Even for Amy.
At that moment, the child turned toward Ashley, almost as if she knew what her aunt was thinking. A smile lit up her tanned face and she raced up, her blonde hair flying behind her.
“Hi, Aunt Ashley. I love you.” She gave Ashley a quick hug, her blue eyes shining with sparkles of joy and hope.
“I love you, too, little miss.” She took Amy’s small face gently in her hands and kissed her cheek. “Looks like you’re having fun.”
“I am.” She was still breathless, her smile filling her face. “But my hair’s blowing in my eyes.” She pulled a hair tie from her shorts pocket and handed it to Ashley. “Please, can you braid my hair? So it doesn’t fly around?”
“Of course.” Ashley felt a quick piercing of sorrow, the way she often felt it when Amy wanted her hair braided. This was how Erin had once connected with their father, and it was how the child had connected with Erin. It remained one way Ashley still felt her sister’s presence, her memory here between them. She smiled and ran her hand over Amy’s long hair. “Turn around, sweetie.”
Over the past year, Ashley’s dad had taught her how to French braid and now she was practically an expert. She ran her fingers through Amy’s hair, layering it and twisting it and in no time she fastened the end with the tie. “There you go.”
“Thanks.” Amy flashed her a grin over her shoulder. “See ya!” And with that she ran back down the hill to join the others. Ashley wished for a few seconds that she could live here in this moment forever, when everyone was whole and happy and alive, when love reigned and God’s goodness was evident with every breath. But that wasn’t possible. Nothing stayed the same. Not last year’s heartache and loss and devastation.
And not this.
She looked up the hill and smiled toward the place where her dad and Elaine sat together, holding hands. He was still healthy, still a strong fisherman. Still able to play with his grandkids on the beach. He had been in touch with the woman who had received Erin’s heart, and he felt strongly that one day he would meet her. That in time the woman would give her life to Jesus. Nothing about Ashley’s amazing father seemed seventy-one years old. But he was. And there were no guarantees about his health or the health of any of them.
Only when they all reached heaven would they have forever to enjoy each other the way they were enjoying each other here, one more time, on the shores of Lake Monroe. Ashley stood and dusted the sand off her shorts. Cole and Jessie and Maddie were tossing a football at the far end of the beach, and Ashley figured they needed one more person to keep the ball moving. She headed that way, her heart and mind filled with the voices and laughter around her.
This was what a family should be … a family saved by redemption, one that could remember the good times and return to them whenever tragedy threatened to rock their foundation. A family that could rejoice together and celebrate reunions like this one at the lake. One where fame didn’t touch it and where wrongs were quickly forgiven. Through the years, together they had found more than a strong faith in God, they had found a family … one that would last forever. Through every sunrise and someday, every summer and sunset. Through it all they would always be this, the greatest family of all.
The Baxter Family.
FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Friends,
When I thought about writing a final book on the Baxter Family, the task seemed daunting — both emotionally and logistically. The Baxters have lived and breathed in the pages of twenty-two books prior to this. Twenty-two pieces of their family story or the stories of people close to them. From Redemption to Reunion, Fame to Forever, Sunrise to Sunset, Take One to Take Four, and the Bailey Flanigan series Leaving to Loving … through all of those books I’ve written about and fallen in love with the Baxter family.
If you ask me this very moment what each of them are doing, I will have an answer for you — further proof that my husband is right when he says I’ll make an interesting old lady one day, when I can’t tell my characters from my kids.
But still, I wasn’t sure I could take the best of yesterday and wrap it into a compelling story for today, a story with enough detail to meet the needs of new readers and enough heart and reflection for the rest of you, my faithful reader friends who have journeyed with me from
the beginning.
But I believe God gave me exactly what I was looking for when He gave me the story line for Coming Home. I cried often as I wrote this book, out of nostalgia for the way God had seen the Baxters through in the past and out of heartache for all they were going through this time around.
I didn’t want to write the last paragraph.
But I can say this … even as I finish up with these friends, the Baxter family, God is stirring new ideas in my heart and mind and soul. Some of them might connect back to Bloomington, and others will happen in new places, with new characters. I have a book coming out this fall called The Bridge. It’s a book like that — new and full of fresh faces. A love story I felt privileged to write.
Still, as I look forward to all the exciting, emotional, life-changing books I’ve yet to bring you, it’s been very important writing about the Baxters one more time, appreciating them and spending time with them. They are my first family of this Life-Changing Fiction™ God has given me to write. So if you’re not familiar with the earlier books, this is your chance. Head to your local library or bookstore, or click the links on your e-reader and find your way back to Redemption, the first Baxter book.
You won’t want to miss all that’s happened before, everything that led us to this place. Either way, thanks for traveling the pages of this book with me. I pray God has used it to touch your heart, and that as you read the final lines you found a deeper appreciation for faith and family and finding your greatest life in Christ.
As always, I look forward to your feedback. Take a minute and find me on Facebook! I’m there at least once a day — hanging out with you in my virtual living room, praying for you, and answering as many questions as possible. On Facebook I have Latte Time, where I’ll take a half hour or so, pour all of you a virtual latte or espresso or hot chocolate, and take questions live and in person. A couple hundred thousand of us hang out there and have a blast together. So come on over and “like” my Facebook Fan Page.
Coming Home: A Story of Undying Hope Page 27