Page 72 of An Irish Hope

“And then she’s at your school. Like, can you have a more obvious sign than that?”

Okay, there was no way Aisling could have orchestrated that. Especially when, from what Patrick and Moira had told him, hers had been a last-minute change.

Still, he had to protest. “Why are you suddenly looking at all this and saying it’s God?”

“Because maybe, just maybe, I can’t help but see that some of what my brother says he believes doesn’t add up to what he actually does.”

Offense reared. “What do you mean? Are you calling me a hypocrite?”

“Look, I’m just saying that if you claim that God is full of grace and mercy, why would He suddenly demand you stay away from the woman who made you smile and laugh again?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t trust myself.”

“Don’t trust yourself how? To not have sex with her?”

Wow. Beth really didn’t mind going there. “No. I just don’t want another woman getting in the way of my relationship with God.”

“Why do you see it like that? Why can’t you see that she might be someone who helps you in your relationship with God? She’s a Christian, right?”

“Yes.”

“So already she’s going to be more likely to share similar values and help you progress in God rather than leading you into ways that make you stumble. She’s not Greta, Andy.”

He sighed. “I know that.”

“Then why are you punishing yourself like this? Why are you punishing her?”

He winced. “I never meant to hurt her.” But he knew now that he had caused her pain.

“God doesn’t need you to flagellate yourself with some kind of penance. He’s a lot more gracious than that. You don’t earn God’s favour by trying to prove yourself as good enough.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he mumbled.

“Wasn’t it?”

Okay, maybe it was. Sorry, Lord.

“And sure, make a vow to God, but it’s not like the Nazarites in the Bible who swore to never eat grapes or cut their hair. You’re not meant to be Samson. You’re meant to be Andy. And the Andy I know loves to run, loves to teach, loves his karaoke. And he needs someone who makes him feel free like that again. Not bound in some religious way of thinking that God will be more pleased with him if he’s suffering. Why do you think that?” she asked in a softer voice.

He paused. Was it because when he’d suffered in that time when Greta had rejected him that he’d found a deeper knowledge and appreciation of God’s love? Maybe. And maybe this was something like a guardrail he wanted to keep him on the straight and narrow.

He tried to explain some of that, which met with her shaken head.

“Andy, God loves you. He’s not trying to punish you. Hey, I’m only saying this because I care about my baby brother.” She ruffled his hair.

“Please don’t.”

She laughed, as—of course!—that only made her ruffle harder.

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“I do. And I’m very secure in my capacity as your annoying older sister which means it’s my duty to annoy you.”

“You do it really well,” he grumbled.