Mending Places (41 page)

Each breath of air snatched the moisture from her mouth. Her heart couldn’t seem to keep up with her lungs. Why had he come here? Why had he gone to the police station to begin with? “Why did you do it?” The words tumbled out before she realized she was speaking.

He looked at her, then away, as if each glance cost him something.

“Why did you turn yourself in?”

He looked the other way, and she could tell he was wiping his face. “It was the right thing to do.”

She stepped closer and pulled the journal from her pocket. For the first time, she worried he would be angry with her for invading his privacy. Guilt and fear prickled her skin, but she held out the journal anyway. “I have something that belongs to you.”

He looked up then. His eyes narrowed, a crease marred his forehead.

“I read it.” She bit the inside of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

He reached out and took the journal.

“I know I shouldn’t have.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” How could she explain what the lessons from his past had taught her? She wanted to make him understand, but she saw in his eyes that he didn’t. “Why didn’t you tell me? About your mom, your childhood?”

He gave a brittle laugh. “I try to forget.”

“It’s part of who you are.”

He studied the snow-crusted ground. “Why are you here?”

His raw, tortured voice drew her. She looked at him kneeling in the wet snow, defeat lining his eyes, anguish etching lines in his face. Ribbons of regret curled tightly in her stomach. Wasn’t she to blame for the way he felt? Hadn’t she treated him with contempt? Hadn’t she wanted him to feel worthless?

Somehow she had to convince him she’d been wrong. And she had the feeling she’d get only one chance. “I came to tell you I forgive you.”

He looked up, and this time he kept his eyes on her. Hope shimmered in his eyes before a shadow fell over them.

She longed to touch him, to hold him. To kiss away every whisper of doubt and self-hatred. “I didn’t understand how someone could be so—how a person could do what you did to me.”

He turned the other way, and she saw his jaw clench.

“You know how I grew up. I had everything a little girl could want—loving parents, a safe home, a Christian upbringing.” She wished she could see his face. The knot in her stomach coiled tighter. “I never even imagined how frightful a childhood could be until I read your journal. It gave me a small glimpse of how awful it must’ve been. It’s no wonder—how could anyone raised under those conditions turn out wholesome and healthy? Your mother’s violence—”

“That’s no excuse.” He pinned her with his stare. “That’s no excuse.” He repeated firmly.

“But it helps me to understand. It helps me to forgive.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Your mom didn’t deserve forgiveness, either, but you gave it to her.”

He opened his mouth and shut it again, turning away. But not before she saw hope dawn in his eyes.

She stepped toward him and dropped to her knees in front of him. “God forgave you. And He made you a different person, Micah.” She lifted a hand and caressed the rigid lines of his face. ‘“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.’ Remember?”

He turned his face from her hand and closed his eyes. “I’m still the same man.”

Her heart softened, became pliable mush as she watched him deny himself her touch. She put her hand under his chin and nudged it back until he met her eyes. “What if you saw me walking alone on the roadside tonight? What if you were coming out of the bar again, and there I was. Would you do the same thing?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you for all the world.” The words seemed to grate across his throat. His eyes blazed with fervor. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

The tenderness she felt pulled the corner of her lips upward. “I know that,” she whispered. “I’ve seen the man you are. It’s in everything you do. Everything you say. You’re not the same man you were.” She thought of Gram’s support of Micah and breathed a laugh. “Do you think my own grandmother would take your side if you hadn’t changed?”

Longing filled his eyes. He wanted to believe her—she could see it plainly.

“I thought I’d gotten over this long ago. I didn’t know I hadn’t forgiven you until—until the other night. Gram has been praying all these years, she said, and I hadn’t even realized—” She paused and looked deep into his eyes. “And you—you’ve gone all this time carrying guilt for what you’d done.”

She had been clinging to bitterness, and Micah had been clinging to guilt. God knew they needed to know one another, needed to love one another, for true forgiveness to take place. Maybe that’s why their paths
had crossed again. She had thought it an awful set of coincidences, but maybe it wasn’t happenstance at all.

Micah took her face in his hands. Remorse brimmed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hanna,” he rasped.

She turned her face into his palm and planted a kiss on the cool, soft flesh. “You’re forgiven.” With her thumb, she brushed a falling tear from his cheek.

His warm breath ruffled her hair. “It won’t be easy, this relationship,” he said. “We’ll have things to deal with.”

“I know.”

“There’ll be pain and fear and guilt and—”

“Forgiveness,” she added.

“Yes. Forgiveness. It’s a good start.”

THE END

Dear Reader,

When the idea for
Mending Places
came to me, I pushed it firmly away. I didn’t want to explore the painful issue of rape, and I wondered how I could get my characters to push past the pain enough to forgive. Mostly, I wondered if I could do justice to such a difficult topic. Had God given this story to the wrong author? Still, the story grew in my heart, and after a year of praying, I gave in.

For some, the issues in this book were difficult to read about. My prayer is that the message of forgiveness will offer hope. Hope to those who’ve been harmed and, yes, hope to those who’ve harmed others. The strength to forgive can always be found through Jesus Christ. It will not necessarily come quickly, and sometimes it’s a long journey. If you’ve suffered at someone else’s hand, my hope is that God will help you along the path toward the mending place. He is always there waiting for you.

Denise Hunter

He heals the brokenhearted.
And binds up their wounds.

—Psalm 147:3

1. Hanna was violated in a terrible way and faced the difficult task of forgiving. What does it mean to forgive?

2. Years went by before Hanna realized she hadn’t truly forgiven her attacker. Why do you think that was? What finally forced her to recognize her unresolved feelings?

3. Do you think it’s easier to forgive a stranger or a loved one? Why?

4. The Bible says God won’t forgive us if we refuse to forgive others. Why do you think that is?

5. Has someone ever wronged you in a way that felt impossible to forgive? How did you get through it?

6. Micah’s mother was an abusive alcoholic. Often these behaviors continue in cycles from one generation to the next. How did Micah overcome them? Have any negative behaviors been passed down to you? How can you break the cycle?

7. Hanna realized how Micah was treated as a child when she read
his journal. Do you think understanding other peoples pasts can enable us to forgive them?

8. When Natalies husband left her for another woman, she couldn’t feel Gods presence. Why do you think that was? Has there ever been a time when you couldn’t feel God’s presence? How did you get past this?

9. As a result of feeling bereft of God’s presence, Natalie began studying God’s Word. What happened as a result?

10. Hanna, Micah, and Natalie each came to a crossroad in this story and had to make decisions that could set them on different paths. Have you ever come to such a crossroad? How can you be sure you make the right decisions?

S
AVING
G
RACE

THE SECOND BOOK IN

T
HE
N
EW
H
EIGHTS
S
ERIES
BY
D
ENISE
H
UNTER

COMING MARCH 2005

CHAPTER ONE
 

“You won’t tell my parents, will you?” she asked.

Natalie Coombs thought the girl across the desk appeared to be eighteen or nineteen. She had a world-weary look in her eyes that Natalie had seen before—deep pools of despair that reminded Natalie of someone else.

“No, everything is confidential.” She extended her hand across the desk. “My name is Natalie.”

“I’m Linn.” She shook Natalie’s hand. Her dark hair hung down on both sides of her face like a curtain. “Can I take a test here?”

“Sure. You’ll just need to fill out a form, then answer some questions first. All right?”

Linn nodded, and Natalie handed her a clipboard with the intake form. “You can have a seat over there.”

Linn settled into the farthest corner chair, and Natalie returned to the desk. She was glad she’d sent this morning’s volunteer, Amanda, upstairs to sort through the batch of baby clothing they’d just received. She had a feeling God had called her to help this girl. Her resemblance to Dana was uncanny, and Natalie prayed things would turn out differently for Linn than they had for Natalie’s first client. Even though a year had passed, Dana’s face still burned like a brand on her heart.

Natalie sneaked a glimpse at Linn. As the girl read the form, she toyed with the collar of her shirt. It looked as if she’d snagged it from the bottom of the pile in a cold dryer. At least she looked older than a lot of
girls who walked through the doors. But she was young enough to be scared. And she was scared. Natalie could see it in her eyes.
Lord, help me to show her Your love.

The phone rang, and Natalie reached for it. “Crisis Pregnancy Center.”

“Hi, it’s me.”

His voice was a punch in the gut. Keith still took her breath away, just in a different way. She walked into the storage room and shut the door behind her. “I’ve asked you not to call me here.”