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“You didn’t have to stay with me. I don’t know why you did.”
She swallowed against a lump in her throat.
“But you’re here.” He exhaled a quivering breath. “I’m still alive, and my sons love me even though I haven’t been a good dad, and you’re still here with me even though you had every reason to leave.” Kevin tucked her back in close against his chest, holding her as if she was a gift to be cherished. “God must be real. And He must be good, because those are miracles.”
In the darkness, held against him, her own tears flowed.
“Helen?” Kevin whispered tentatively.
“Yes, love.”
“I want to try life Dave’s way.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant exactly and didn’t know what to say. It couldn’t be a bad thing though. Dave was a good man. And he’d been such a faithful friend to them both.
After a space of silence, Kevin whispered, “I want to go to church on Sunday.”
Helen leaned back against his arms, once again searching for his face in the dark. She couldn’t think of a time when he’d shocked her more.
His hand cupped her face again, thumb tracing her brow. “Will you come with me?”
“Yes.” Her response was more wonder than excitement.
Truth be told, church made her feel wildly uncomfortable. Not because it was unfamiliar—quite the contrary. She’d grown up in church. The kind where only long skirts and brown shoes were acceptable attire. It had been a place where no smiling was allowed, and people scurried away as quickly as they could once the service was over. She remembered it as a cold, unwelcoming place that was attended by dutiful souls as a sign of their virtue.
Helen hadn’t gone since she’d married Kevin. Because it was uncomfortable.
“I don’t know how to be,” Kevin said. “Will you help me?”
“Kevin . . .”
“Please, Helen. I need you in this.”
“I’m not saying no.” With a palm to his chest, she pressed back a little more. “But I don’t know how to be, either. Church never made much sense to me.”
She wasn’t a good enough person to be sitting in a pew before the judgment of God, and clearly by her lingering discomfort, God wasn’t keen on her return.
Kevin sighed.
“It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try it,” she said into his disappointment.
He held still for several more beats, and Helen could feel his hope plummeting. “Kevin, we’ll go. Maybe it’ll be different than I remember.”
His arms came around her and drew her in again. “There’s got to be something in it. Dave is . . .” He didn’t finish.
“Dave is a good man.” Helen finished for him. “His parents are good people.”
Kevin nodded against her.
Helen swallowed. “Okay,” she whispered. And didn’t speak the rest of her thoughts. They went something like,The Claytons are good people—that’s why church works for them.
Strange how as she parked under a streetlamp not far from the ER entrance at the city hospital, that thirty-five-year-old thought was such a clear memory to Helen. It made her chuckle—a sad sort of laugh at her sad little view.
Thank God she’d discovered that she’d been so very wrong. Not about the Claytons being good people—they were. But about church, and by extension her entire view of God.
Praise God she’d been so very wrong. And even more so, that He was determined to prove it.
Chapter Five
