An earnestness glowed from his skin. Where his countenance had once paled because of loss of blood and injury, it now radiated an inner fervor. Christyne did not doubt that if he were able, Lorenz would jump to his feet and pace before her. Though his body was held back while he regained his strength and his flesh knit together once more, his mind was free to roam, to inspect, to dive, and to soar. She wished she could turn herself into a butterfly and let the currents lift her to such heights. His enthusiasm nearly convinced her that it was possible.
“After much prayer and study, my fellow scholars and I became convinced that the baptism of infants went against Scripture and was not true baptism because the sacrament came before a true repentance and confession of faith. Therefore, though we knew it was against the law and would label us heretics and dissenters, we baptized one another.”
“Do you not fear for your life? Already you have been hunted and shot like a buck by an archer. Would it not be better to recant publicly and then live out your faith in a private manner where death does not seek to end your days?”
“‘The Lord is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?’ Also ‘Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.’”
He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again, conviction shone brighter than the moon in its full phase. “Though Zwingli and the city council have passed laws against the Brethren and have urged all the authorities within the empire to arrest us, I will not recant the truths of the Scripture that I have hidden in my heart. Already, others have died for their faith. My good friend and one of the first to be baptized a second time, Felix Manz, was bound and thrown into the Limmat River. A special force known asTäuferjäger—Anabaptist hunters—are chasing others this very moment.” His gaze held no regret when it captured hers. Instead, he offered an encouraging smile. “Alas, you can see how it is impossible for me to recant. For to do so would be to deny Christ as Peter once did. And though I am but a man, I remind myself that I need not fear those who can kill my body, because they have no control over the destiny of my soul.”
Chapter Eleven
Present Day, Germany
Amber seethed. How dare he? Taking away the younger kids’ shoes had been bad enough, but Seth’s actions had only gotten worse as the day went on. Her tongue was near raw with how much she’d been biting it to keep from reaming him out in front of the players. But now the last teenager filed out the center’s door, the required after-soccer tutoring hour having ticked its last tock.
The door clicked shut behind Roy, a shy boy Seth had playing goalkeeper who could speak a marginal amount of English.
Finally. No audience.
Amber spun on her heel, her fists planted on her hips. “Care to tell me what in the world you were thinking out there? The older kids were about to toss their cookies after the amount of running you had them do. And what if one of the younger ones had cut themselves on a sharp rock? We’re supposed to be helping those kids, not torturing them.”
Seth met her gaze with a steady one of his own. His eyes didn’t spark with anger at her accusation, but he did widen his stance.
Good. He’d need it. She’d only gotten warmed up.
“Don’t you think those kids have been through enough? That the world has been tough enough on them? We need to be a safe place, Seth. Not just another person yelling at them and pushing them and telling them how worthless they are.”
“I never told a single one of those boys or girls that they were worthless.” His nostrils flared, the only indication that her words were having any effect on him.
“Not in those words, but how do you think they felt to have a stranger shouting at them in a language they are just beginning to grasp, putting them through the same drill over and over again. Don’t you think they got the message that you didn’t think they were good enough?”
“Were they good enough? Could these kids work together on the pitch to beat another team?”
“No, but it isn’t about winning. It’s about—”
“I beg to disagree.”
Her brows jumped to her hairline. “Excuse me?” If he really thought the most important thing here was a bunch of hurting kids winning a stupid sports game, there was a lot more she had to say to him.
“Itisabout winning. Not football, but in life. You’re right, this world has been hard on them. Harder than any one of those kids deserves. But I have news for you—life isn’t going to ease up. It’s going to continue to be tough, especially for them. So, yeah, I’m going to be tough too. But I’m not tearing them down, Amber. I’m helping to build them up,together. They need to learn to work as a team so that they’ll have each other when this world tries to tear them down again. Together they’ll be stronger.”
The hot blood pumping through her veins cooled a little. She’d been surprised when little Yara had prattled on in accented English. Four years old and trilingual. When Amber had asked, the girl had said that herbabaalways spoke English to her and her brother at home. She’d started crying at the mention of her father, and Amber had remembered Seth saying the man had died in the war in Syria. All Amber had wanted to do was scoop Yara up and cradle her to her chest. “And you think your method is the best way to do that?”
Amber couldn’t. She would never be able to bring herself to be steel around those kids. Not when they made her insides turn to mush. She wanted to smooth back their hair and kiss their booboos and reassure them that everything would be okay. Even the big teenage boys that towered over her. They may have scowled and acted tough, but she could see their pain. If pushing them and acting like she didn’t care when her heart wanted to cry for them was the best way to help…well…this would be yet another arena in which she wasn’t equipped to do the job.
“The best way?” Seth turned his body slightly away and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Is there only one right way?”
Wasn’t there? Wasn’t that how life worked? Black and white. Right and wrong.
But people weren’t two-dimensional. They weren’t a true or false question on a pop quiz. They were heart and soul. Mind and strength. If Seth could speak to one part of them, maybe God could use her to reach another part. Then their two halves would make a whole. She could hope. And pray.
She licked her lips, feeling a little sheepish for laying into him when all he’d been trying to do was help the best way he knew how. “Sorry for…” She gestured between them. “You know.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s good for someone to fightforthem for a change.”
Amber smiled, then remembered something. “At the end of each practice I saw you handing out slips of paper to everyone. What was that?”
Color climbed his neck. “My phone number. Most of those kids are in their flats by themselves while their mothers work long shifts.” He opened a box that had been left on one of the tables and then pulled out a striped shirt with a number on the back. The newly ordered jerseys for the kids. He glanced back up at her. “If they ever needed anything or find themselves in trouble, they know they can call me. Any time, for anything.”
