Chapter 28 #2
Angus bowed his head, searching for words that could encompass everything he needed to say but couldn’t fully articulate. When the words came, they were simple.
“Father, I don’t know how to carry this.
Don’t know how to serve people when serving them means watching areas where the law seems inadequate.
I don’t know how to love my brother while refusing to follow him.
I don’t know how to move forward with all of this.
” He paused. “So I’m asking You to carry what I can’t.
To be present where I can’t be. To protect the people I can’t protect.
To reach Logan where I couldn’t reach him.
And to help me trust that Your way is better than outcomes I can see. ”
Murphy’s voice joined his, quiet but steady.
“Lord, give Angus the strength to keep choosing obedience even when effectiveness feels like the better choice. Give him peace that doesn’t depend on knowing how everything will resolve.
And help him trust that gaps the system leaves open are places where Your grace can work, not places where human intervention must replace Your provision. ”
They remained in silence after the prayer ended, neither rushing to fill the quiet with unnecessary words. Eventually Murphy spoke again.
“What happens now? With Logan?”
“Nothing,” Angus said. “He stays out there doing what he’s been doing for eighteen years.
I stay here doing what I’ve been called to do.
Our paths might cross again. But unless he chooses to come home, there isn’t anything more I can do except pray that one day he accepts what I tried to tell him about grace. ”
“And with us?”
Angus turned to look at her—the woman who’d been patient through weeks of distance, who had every right to walk away but had chosen to stay long enough for him to remember how to stay too.
“With us,” he said quietly, “I hope we keep building whatever this is. Keep showing up for each other. Keep choosing openness and connection even when openness and connection are uncomfortable. Keep trusting that relationship is stronger than isolation.”
Murphy smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen from her in weeks.
“I’d like that.”
“So would I.”
She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, and Angus felt something that had been wound tight for weeks begin to loosen.
Not resolution exactly—Logan was still out there, gaps remained unfilled, and questions unanswered.
But presence. Connection. The quiet reminder that choosing to be known was harder than hiding, yet necessary if any relationship was going to endure what he carried.
They sat together as darkness settled fully outside, the house quiet except for occasional sounds from the street. Angus let himself be still in a way he hadn’t been since Logan’s investigation began.
The path forward was clearer now. Not easier. Not without its burdens. But clearer.
He would return to duty tomorrow, under probation that would make certain choices harder. He would serve Weyport within boundaries that oversight would enforce, carrying the knowledge about Logan that couldn’t be shared publicly but no longer had to be carried alone.
And he would keep choosing community over isolation, obedience over effectiveness, Christ’s way over Logan’s way—not because the outcomes were guaranteed, but because faithfulness didn’t require guarantees to be righteous.
Murphy’s hand tightened in his, and Angus returned the pressure, accepting comfort that required no performance and offering commitment that would be lived out in daily choices to remain present, even when presence was costly.
The choice was made. The direction was set.
And whatever came next would be faced together rather than alone.
Angus looked toward the window where night had fully settled and realized that faith wasn’t certainty about outcomes, nor clarity about how every gap would be filled.
Faith was simply knowing which direction to walk when both paths seemed right—and both carried cost. Logan had chosen a way that appeared righteous through effectiveness.
Angus had chosen differently—not because the choice brought resolution or made the weight lighter, but because some truths remain true whether or not they appear to work.
Christ’s way didn’t promise to fill every gap or solve every problem.
It promised only this: to be the way that leads home.
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
John 14:6 (NIV)
Thank you for reading Logan’s Way.