Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
R yan’s heart trembled as the door’s bell chimed at Jim’s Hardware Store. He arrived a few minutes late on purpose, to avoid the conversations. Fighting every natural inclination to turn around, he continued into the store. He knew showing up was part of the battle. The rest was up to God to use the words he would share with the crowd gathered there tonight.
Walking down the tool aisle, he went to the backroom where he knew the meeting would be held.
When Ryan stepped in through the doorway, Bill caught sight of him from where he was standing up at the podium.
“Before we get started, Frank’s son, Ryan, wanted to share some words with you.”
Ignoring every set of eyes on him, he walked through the sea of people he had grown up with, along with new faces as well.
His steps felt heavy as he climbed the little set of metal stairs and onto the stage. Coming to the podium, he adjusted the microphone and then retrieved his neatly prepared speech from his back pocket.
When he unfolded it, then peered into the familiar faces, he realized something.
He crinkled up the papers and tossed them on the floor beside him.
“I spent a long time writing that speech, carefully crafting each sentence and articulating exactly what I wanted to say to you. But as I look out at this crowd . . .” He shook his head, then dipped his chin for a moment as he felt a wave of sorrow fill his heart in the silence that night. He prayed in that very second, God help me.
“As I look out, I don’t see a bunch of strangers. I see my friends. I see my extended family, in one sense. I grew up in this town. Became a man in this town.” Peering over at Jim, he smiled. “Remember when my bike chain got stuck outside this very building on the sidewalk, Jim? How old was I?”
“I think about nine?”
Ryan smiled. “And you know what you did? You helped me when I needed it. You sprayed some WD40 on the chain and got me back in action. I was the happiest nine-year-old in town that day.”
Pointing to Martha, who opened her shop when he was fourteen years old. “And Martha, do you remember when you opened your bakery? My dad wouldn’t let me work at the grill, and you gave me a part-time job under the table a few days a week so I could have some pocket change.”
Smiling, she nodded. “And you were a good worker, Ryan! Even if you did sneak chocolate chip cookies from time to time.”
The town laughed.
“The point I’m trying to make is simple. Cedarwood Creek isn’t just another small town in America. It’s not a place where you have to worry about others mistreating you and gossiping behind your back. . . Or at least it wasn’t like that when I grew up here. I’ll share the big news here in a minute about my father, Frank, but I wanted to just preface this whole situation with the fact that I loved you all. You were like family to me growing up, and I’ll forever cherish that in my heart. That’s regardless of your decision to ask me and my family to leave.”
Glancing at Bill, Ryan could feel his eagerness to get on with it as he motioned with a shooing of a hand and raised eyebrows.
“As everyone knows, my father passed away earlier this year. It’s been a hard year, really hard.” Pausing, his eyes welled with tears. As they spilled onto his cheeks, he wiped them away. “I decided to move my family here from California. Not only for the family business, but for a fresh start. That, again, was difficult. But in my heart, I remembered the life I had here as a child, the community of Cedarwood Creek, the love and support that poured into my life growing up here. But I digress. Let me get on to the important stuff.”
He sighed and shook his head as silence lingered for a moment.
“My father left me a letter detailing a sin from his past. He and my mother had separated for a bit a long time ago, and he had a child with another woman.”
The town gasped and then started talking among themselves.
Adjusting the microphone again, he leaned in and said, “Please listen.”
Quiet, the town waited for him to continue.
“My father, according to this letter, struggled with what was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to mess up the life and family he had because of the child, so he helped financially instead. Was it the right thing to do? To not give that little girl a father?” Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. That was a matter between him and God, not for me to decide. And I have spent my months here in Cedarwood Creek in agony at the thought of everyone here finding out. Why? Because I don’t want my father to be remembered for this.” Ryan wiped more tears. “I want him to be remembered for all the good he did. All the love he showed every person in this room, including myself.”
Looking at the crumpled speech on the floor, he walked over and picked it up and laid it out on the podium in front of him. “I won’t read the speech, but I do want to share a Bible verse with you. Proverbs 17:9 states, ‘Whoever covers an offense seeks love, but he who repeats a matter separates close friends.’ ” Ryan folded the speech up and placed it in his back pocket.
He looked again across the sea of familiar faces. “There’s plenty of Bible verses about gossip and slander. Most of you know them all. But this one stood out to me because it mentions the word love .”
Again, Ryan paused and wiped his eyes. “I want you all to think about that word. Love . Think of the love that was poured out on the Cross for each one of us. Think about how much wrong we’ve done in our own lives and how much God has forgiven us, over and over again.”
Letting the words sit for a moment, he scanned the crowd. “I believe that this community is about love. The love of God and the love of others, just as Jesus Christ instructed us. Now, if you want me to leave and never come back . . .” He dropped his hands onto the podium and shrugged. “I will gladly do that. Because I don’t want to live in a town that cares that deeply about others’ failings. If, though, you choose love and choose to forgive my father for whatever wrong you felt he did to you, I’ll stay. My hope and my prayer is that Cedarwood Creek goes back to what it once was instead of what it has become. Thank you.”
Stepping down from the podium, Ryan walked through the silent crowd and promptly left the hardware store.
Arriving at the women’s Bible study that evening, Emily told her boys to behave as they joined the other kids to go play. Taking a seat in the living room with the ten or so other ladies, she pulled her Bible and markers out and onto her lap.
“Okay, ladies. For you new faces, I’m Joyce and I want to welcome you. Let’s go around the room and get to know our new ladies.”
A young woman who appeared to be in her twenties stood up with tears running down her cheeks. Emily’s heart broke immediately for her.
“Hi, I’m Brittany. I have four kids, my husband is in prison, and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it even the next week.” Laughing through the tears, she shook her head. “I can’t believe Joyce even invited me tonight. I mean, my life is a wreck, and she was so kind to me. I appreciate it so much. I’m just glad to be here.”
Emily touched her chest as she tilted her head. Empathy radiated through her heart, wishing she could do something for the woman. A few more ladies spoke, then it was Emily’s turn.
“I’m new. My name is Emily, and I have three kids. Two of them are here tonight. Glad to be here.”
Short and to the point, Emily sat back down. Her eyes and heart kept gravitating toward Brittany.
Joyce opened the study in prayer, lifting up their time together and praying for a few requests that were mentioned in introductions.
That evening, the group would be studying the parable of Jesus about the unforgiving servant. “Before we get started, I wanted us to read the opening conversation that leads to the parable we’ll be reading. This conversation is between Peter and Jesus. Matthew 18:21-22 says, ‘Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.’”
Emily adjusted in her seat as she felt conviction from God. Had she given up too quickly on Ryan?
Brittany was weeping, and Joyce stopped the conversation to direct their attention to their sister in need.
“Hey, Brittany. You okay?”
Biting her lip, she shook her head as she composed herself. “I just can’t believe we’re talking about this tonight.”
“Do you want to share more?” Joyce inquired gently.
“My father is a . . . jerk. Let’s go with that name.” She laughed as she shook her head and wiped her eyes. “The truth is . . . I’m pregnant. This is my fifth baby. When my dad found out I was pregnant, he kicked me and my kids out of his house. Now we’re at the homeless shelter over off Yancy Street.”
“I’m so sorry.” Joyce shook her head.
“It’s okay. The good news is we are moving into an apartment this coming week.” She nodded, appearing to force a smile.
“Wow.” Joyce smiled.
Another lady added, “That’s awesome.”
“Yeah.” Smiling, she nodded. “The church has been so helpful and loving to me. Whatever resource I need, they have supplied information. I never knew the love of God until I walked in those doors.”
“God often shows His love to us through others.” Joyce smiled. “I was in a similar situation to you when I was younger, and it was God’s people who showed me His goodness and love. It was through the acts of others that we often experience God in radical ways. Sometimes, without even knowing it. God’s influence in our lives is often a quiet whisper or a gentle nudge to do something, to act in love.”
Emily thought for a moment of Ryan and his insistent need to help Linda and Tiffany. Could God be using him to accomplish something she had no idea about?
She had to ask the group. “How do we know if it’s God, though, and not just something we want to do?”
“Because the act has no benefit to us and it doesn’t go contrary to the Word of God.”
Ouch . . . she thought inside.
As they worked the rest of their time through the story of the unforgiving servant, Emily kept thinking over the situation with Ryan.
Joyce said, “We never want God to stop forgiving us, but we often want to stop forgiving others. Does that mean being abused is okay?”
A woman raised her hand. As Joyce met her gaze, she spoke. “No. Forgiving someone who is repeatedly physically or emotionally abusive doesn’t honor God.”
“Close.” Joyce smiled. “Just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you have to allow the mistreatment. Maybe, for instance, a man beats a woman. She would need to remove herself from the home. Divorce? Separation until he gets help? These are all valid options depending on the situation, the woman, and the circumstances. Seek Godly counsel and lean on the Lord to guide you.”
“What about if your husband is just a jerk?” another woman asked.
“Try to talk to him,” another woman responded. “My husband used to work long hours, and it was really hard on our marriage and the kids. I talked to him, and we started seeing a counselor, and things got better, but it took time.”
Emily listened to everything intently, feeling like she wanted to share with the group, but she felt scared to do so.
A little old lady who had been quiet most of the night cleared her throat and shook her head. “It’s funny we’re talking so much about husbands. I just got in a fight with my husband, Tom, this afternoon. I caught him lying about some finances again. The details don’t matter, but I was upset. I feel like I can’t trust him when he’s just a liar.”
“It’s hard to have trust when someone lies.” Joyce looked around the room. “What are some ways you ladies have navigated this in your own marriages? Could anyone help encourage their sister in Christ?”
Emily looked around, praying and hoping someone would speak up.
Nobody spoke.
Joyce smiled. “It’s not an easy topic. I believe forgiveness, like we’ve been learning, is in order, but also, seeking to unearth why the lie existed in the first place might be in order. Communication is such a big part of marriage.”
“Right.” The older lady smiled. “Or he could just stop being dumb.”
All the ladies chuckled.
“That too.” Joyce smiled. “It’s important to remember just like God has a plan for our lives, the enemy has one as well. He has a plan to take you down, to kill you and your family. It’s extreme, but it’s the truth. We have to be on guard.”
Lifting her heart toward Heaven, Emily couldn’t help but smile and nod as she glanced momentarily toward the ceiling. This is why You wanted me here, isn’t it, God?
After the study ended, she sought Brittany out. “Hey. Is there anything I can do to help out with the move this week?”
Shrugging, Brittany scrunched her nose. “I don’t know . . .”
Touching her arm, Emily smiled. “Come on, please let me help? Even if it’s just helping with your little ones.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she smiled. “I could always use a little extra muscle. And of course, my kids are going to need to be occupied as I move stuff.”
“I’ll talk to my dad tonight. He’s strong.”
“Okay! Here, let me give you my phone number.”
Exchanging numbers, Emily then went and found her kids and left to go back to her parents’ house. She couldn’t believe she had almost let the exhaustion of her workday stop her from attending. The study had been such an encouragement, even if it was quite convicting as well.
Later that night, back at the house, she found her father in his study. She knocked.
“Come in.”
She walked in.
“How was your Bible study?”
“Good. Actually, it was great!”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He set his glasses down on the desk as he smiled at her and folded his hands. “Tell me more.”
“I met a lady there who is moving this coming week, and she needs extra muscle. Any interest in helping?”
“Oh, honey. Thank you for asking, but no thanks. I don’t lift things.”
“What? You work out daily.”
“Right, but I don’t move people. It’s too much of a hassle. Half the time, nothing is boxed when you show up, and you spend half the day packing other people’s stuff. Plus, I’m pretty busy this coming week.”
“Okay . . .”
“Anything else?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Exiting, she slowly closed the door.