“I’m not sure she is going to stay.”
“Well, I’ve seen the way she looks at you and, from what you’ve said, I’m pretty sure that even if she does decide she doesn’t want to stay, I’m sure you’re not going to let her go as easily as you did the first time.” Donna’s eyes probed his as if driving home the truth of what she had just said.
She walked over to his desk, picked up his Bible and started flipping through it. She seemed to find what she was looking for, and turned the book back to him, open.
“You might want to read this and then decide whether you can forgive Frank or not.” Donna gave her son another smile. “You’re a good man, Logan. And I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.”
After he heard the outside door close, he leaned over the Bible and started reading what she had pointed out.
“Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.’”
Logan continued to read the story of a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants and of the large debt that one owed him. The servant pleaded for mercy and the king forgave him. But then the servant went out and found a man who owed him far less than what the servant had owed the king. But he had no mercy. When the king found out he was furious and punished the servant.
“‘This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.’”
Logan knew the story. Had heard it often growing up. He had never thought it applied to him personally.
Until now. How much hadn’t God forgiven him? All the anger and bitterness he had stored up and still held. All the sins he had committed against other people and, worse, against God Himself.
How could he possibly presume to withhold forgiveness from anyone else?
And yet could he really let go that easily?
If he wanted Sarah, if he wanted peace with a God who had forgiven him, he had to. Simple as that.
Logan closed his eyes, fought his second thoughts and let his prayer ascend, hoping that the emotion would follow the action. “Forgive me, Lord. Forgive my lack of forgiveness.”
He prayed for strength and wisdom. And he prayed for courage. He kept praying until he felt he was as close to ready as he was going to get.
He picked up the phone and called Sarah’s cell phone. She answered it on the second ring.
“Hey there,” she said, sounding breathless. “I missed you in church.”
Logan glanced at the Bible still lying open on the desk beside him. “I had some thinking to do. And some praying.” He paused, sent up a prayer for strength, then said, “I’d like to come with you. To see your dad.”
“When?”
“Today?”
Silence. Had he misread her last night?
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I need to do this. I’ll meet you at three o’clock inside, by the reception desk.”
Sarah pulled her jacket closer as she hurried down the snow-covered sidewalk to the hospital entrance. A chilly wind had sprung up, snatching away what precious warmth she had soaked up in her car. The snow squeaked under her feet, underlining how cold it was.
But she didn’t care. Nothing mattered. She and Logan were going to finish this chapter in their life and then move on. Where to, she wasn’t sure yet. But one thing she knew, right now Logan was the most important person in her life.
A few more steps and she was out of the wind. She stamped her feet, getting rid of the snow that stuck to her boots, then scooted inside the warmth of the hospital. The foyer was a jumble of boots of every size and melting snow and Sarah had to do some fancy footwork to get her boots off and shoes on without getting her feet wet.
The woman at the reception desk greeted her with a smile. Sarah wasn’t even aware that she was smiling as well.
She glanced around the room. No dark head, no tall figure slouching in a chair. A quick peek at her watch showed her that she was only five minutes late.
She walked toward the doors, glanced out over the parking lot beside the hospital, then back to the reception area. None of the magazines held her interest, but she picked one up anyway and flipped through it, the picture of nonchalance.
Ten minutes later, still no Logan.
Had she missed him? Impossible. Every time the door opened, sending in a rush of cold air, she had looked up. She had walked to the door any number of times; there was no way he could have walked past her.
Where was he? Had he changed his mind? Had second thoughts?
The questions spun and danced, teasing and taunting.
Should she worry?
Well, she was at the hospital. Surely if something had happened, she would be one of the first to know.
She dug in her purse for her cell phone, then realized she had left it at home, so she called from a pay phone but Logan wasn’t answering.
She pushed herself up from her chair, the reality of the situation hitting her like a slap. Logan wasn’t coming. She didn’t know if she should be sad or angry or disheartened or a mixture of all three.
She glanced down the hallway toward her father’s ward. She had made a promise to Logan, but she figured that the circumstances had changed. She was here now; she should go see her father.
But the closer she got to his room, however, the slower her steps became. Could she do this after what she had promised to Logan? Were her father and family’s wishes still controlling her?
She became aware of music coming from a room beside her father’s. A Christmas carol.
“O come, O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.”
She stopped, letting the song flow over her questions and doubts. If she didn’t forgive her father and find atonement with him, she was just like the Israelites. Captive. And in this Christmas season she was reminded that Christ came to give freedom to the captives. Just as she had experienced that day in her father’s room when she read to him from Isaiah.
Freedom.
She had been in bondage to her father and her feelings about him for too long. She needed to move on to a different relationship with him.
And while she had desperately hoped Logan would be with her to give her moral support, to stand beside her, maybe it was better to do this on her own.
Her step faltered when she thought of Logan.
Please help me, Lord, she prayed. Help me to care for Logan in the right way. As first of all your child and second of all… She didn’t know what to put there.
She knew she had come to a place of forgiveness for what her father had done to her. What he had done to Logan’s father and Logan’s family was not hers to forgive.
A lab tech pushed a rattling cart past her. A nurse hurried in the other direction. Another carol played from the other room. Joy to the World.
She pressed her hand to her stomach to still her shaking nerves. Help me, Lord, she prayed. Help me to say the right thing. Help me not to be weak, but help me to love him. And thank You for Your love for me. Thank You that You are my perfect Father.
One more long, slow breath and she was ready.
But as she came nearer his room, she heard a voice coming from inside. A deep voice. She stopped just outside the room, puzzled as to who it would be.