Lord is with me. The Lord is with me.”
When her heart rate finally settled down, she hung her hat and brown swing coat on the hook.
A flash of white on the linoleum—a letter! Rita Sue always slipped Leah’s mail under the door. Oh, how she needed a distraction. The airmail envelope edged by diagonal red and blue stripes signaled a letter from Clay.
“It’s from your daddy, baby girl.” Leah lowered herself to squatting and picked up the letter. The postmark read December 26, the same date as the cablegram.
“Please, Lord. Please let this be his reply.” She settled into the rocking chair Mrs. Whipple from church had loaned her.
Leah devoured the first line: “My dear wife”—with wife underlined.
Relieved laughter welled up. He’d never addressed her that way. Always simply “Dear Leah.”
The next line read “I want to make one thing clear—I will never abandon you. I made vows to you and to our child, and I will never break them.”
“Thank you, Lord. Thank you.” With that security, she could bear any censure.
I admit your confession struck me, since my life has been altered by theft.
However, please don’t feel bad that you didn’t tell me you used to steal. You were young, it was long ago, and you’ve changed—so it was never any of my business. Seeing how Darlene and Mrs. Perry reacted, I don’t blame you for not telling me.
As for your past theft, there’s nothing for me to forgive. First, you did me no harm. Second, I understand why you stole things. Yes, it was wrong, but it stemmed from your compassionate heart that hates to see anyone or anything abandoned. That sweet empathy is one of your greatest strengths.
Third, it’s all in your past. In your youth! You’ve confessed and changed, and that isn’t who you are anymore. You told me when you could have easily kept silent. I admire your courage and integrity.
Thinking through this illuminated a dark area in my soul. When I first told you about my brothers, you said you could understand why I hadn’t forgiven them. I was taken aback, because I thought I had forgiven them.
You saw through my polite words. Although I’ve forgiven them on the surface, deep inside I still resent them.
It was easy to forgive you because there was no personal injury, I understood your motives, and you repented long ago.
Both Wyatt and Adler did cause me injury, and neither has repented. I understand Wyatt’s motives—he feared for his life and needed to get out of town. But I’ll never understand Adler’s motives. Sure, he was grieving Oralee, he was angry that I’d spoiled his revenge on Wyatt, and he was drunk, but to do what he did? I’ll never understand.
So Wyatt only meets one of my criteria, and Adler meets none.
However, my criteria don’t matter. Only God’s do.
Jesus didn’t say to forgive people only if you understand why they sinned. He didn’t say to forgive only if people are remorseful and they change.
He said to forgive, and he said not forgiving is a sin. So guess what, Leah? I’m a rotten sinner.
I have a whole lot of pondering and praying to do. I need to figure out what it means to forgive, to go past saying the words to meaning them. How do I stop resenting them? I don’t know, but I’m fixing to find out.
I tell you what, little wife of mine—because that’s what you are and that’s what you’ll remain till death do us part. Pray that I’ll be able to forgive my brothers before it’s too late, and I’ll pray that you can see yourself as the fine young woman you are and not as a thieving orphan. Sound fair?
Take care of yourself and our baby.
Yours,
Clay
Leah pressed the letter to her chest. “I will. I’ll pray for you.”
She hurt for him—for the pain his brothers had caused and any additional pain she’d inflicted. Yet she basked in his security. He wouldn’t annul the marriage. He called her his little wife. He signed it “Yours” again.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was a man of his word, honest, open, and determined to forgive those who had set his life on a course he hadn’t wanted.
Why had the Lord brought such a man to befriend her, to save her life, and to give her a family?
She held the letter before her face, longing to inhale his essence. “Lord, help me, but I love him.”
24
ISLE OF WIGHT, ENGLAND
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1944
“That’s the way. Y’all can do it.” Clay shielded