On Every Side (39 page)

Forget the fact that Jordan seemed strong and able to handle her loss, that he seemed willing to take on the responsibility of Heidi's well-being. His mother had seen something else, even back then.

She'd seen his heart. And his weakness.

“How could you know me that well?” Jordan's question came in a broken whisper, and he wished with everything inside him he could reach across the seat and hold his mother's hand, hug her like he'd done as a boy. He stared at the letter again, though the tears made it impossible to see. Before he could analyze his thoughts, he began to speak. “Thank You, God…for letting me hear her voice again. How can I thank You?”

Return to Me, son.
I
have always loved you… let down the walls…

The words that flashed across Jordan's heart were so foreign that he sat up straighter in his seat and glanced around. Switching off the dome light, he inhaled sharply and folded the letter. Then he slipped it back in the envelope and set it squarely on the dashboard, staring out into the evening.

What was he doing? Had that been his voice, praying to God, thanking Him for his mother's words?

Jordan gulped and clenched his hands on the steering wheel. Something felt different, something in the neighborhood of his
heart. As though thick, stony walls had surrounded it for years… and now… now they'd crumbled to the ground, and all in the space of a heartbeat. He sat back in the seat and marveled at the lightness of the feeling. Was it his mother's prayer that had done it? Heidi's prayer? Faith's? Jordan wasn't sure, but he knew one thing. He'd come to Bethany a month earlier longing for three women he'd once loved: Faith, Heidi, and his mother. And now… here in the cold darkness of his sports car, alone at Jericho Park, he'd found them all.

His eyes adjusted to the night, and the image of the walled-in Jesus statue came clearly into view. Walled-in just as his heart had been. To people. To God.

Suddenly, more than anything in his life, he wanted to see those plywood walls—walls he'd been instrumental in erecting—come down. He wanted to see the image of Jesus, arms out-stretched, beckoning all who had a willing spirit to come to Him…

Come, and He would give rest for even the hardest heart, the coldest soul.

Even a sinner like Jordan.

The truth dawned on him then, and his head spun as he struggled to take it in. God wasn't his enemy No, the only enemy he'd had these past sixteen years was himself. He'd spent all his time, his talents, waging a battle against the Lord as if that could somehow erase the losses in his life. But in the end that battle would have cost him everything.

Jordan blinked… it was as if he could feel scales falling from his eyes.

God was real. Of course He was. What other explanation could there be for the way Jordan's mother had found His saving grace before her death? Image after image filled Jordan's mind, and he saw the Lord's hand at work throughout his life—even in
the darkest hours. He'd survived the cave incident, hadn't he? And what about the other day in New York City, when the trio of muggers was arrested moments before they would have attacked him? What about Faith's victories? And Heidi's? What about the fact that he'd found his sister after all these years only hours after Faith's prayer?

Even little Rosa had reason to believe: God had given her one good hand, after all, and a devoted friend in Faith.

All of it was proof. Proof he'd avoided with a lifetime of hiding behind walls of anger and bitterness. Walls of fear.

Why hadn't he seen it before, the trustworthiness of God?

His gaze lingered on the plywood walls, and he began to shake his head as a heavy mourning swept him. “I'm sorry, Father…I've gone against You at every turn.” He began to cry, deep, guttural sobs that worked their way up as the sorrow and regret he felt for a lifetime of wrong attitudes and actions threat-ened to consume him.

“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry God…”

The words of the three women he loved most echoed in his heart. He could see Faith, her beautiful eyes filled with sincerity as she whispered,
‘You can't stay angry at God forever…
“
Heidi's image appeared in his mind and he took in her tearstained face in the hour after they'd found each other, heard her earnest words:
“Sometimes our walk with the Lord gets a little confusing.”
The picture faded and his mother's words appeared, words from years ago, words God had saved for this time and place… a mes-sage that Jordan understood now was absolute truth:
He's the only way out… the only life rope, the only path from the darkness here to eternal light.

The only way home… only way home… only way home…

His mother… Heidi… Faith… their wisdom echoed again and again in the core of his being, and Jordan knew he couldn't last
another minute. No matter what he'd said before, no matter how he'd bought into a lifetime of lies since his mother's death, a few truths remained. Deep down inside, Jordan Riley still loved God.

And he could wait no longer.

Compelled by a force greater than anything he could remem-ber, moving with a strength that was not his own, Jordan climbed out of the car and began jogging toward the statue.

The cold air burned his lungs, his loafers slipped with each step, but Jordan moved on, determined, energized with a super-natural desire. He reached the statue, and his eyes darted from one board to the next until he saw several areas where the wood was loose. Working his hand into a crack between two panels, he gripped the plywood and pulled. He cried out from the effort as a section of the wall fell to the ground.

Then he moved to the next piece.

One by one, he gripped the wood, tearing the panels from the place where they stood, barely noticing the splinters that pierced his skin. There wasn't a person in sight, but Jordan wouldn't have minded if there were. They could pack the place with people and air what he was doing live on national television for all he cared.

The walls had to come down. The Jesus statue in Jericho Park deserved to be seen.

Faith wasn't sure what lured her to the park that night, whether it was her desire to soak in all that had happened between Jordan and Heidi, or whether she wanted to pray about Rosa Lee and the upcoming hearing. Whatever it was, she hadn't been able to sleep and at almost midnight, bundled in her thickest winter coat, she stepped out of her car, gazed across the park, and con-sidered whether she wanted to find a bench or get back inside where it was warm.

She'd been standing there only a few seconds when she heard loud cries and frightening noises, as though some terrible fight were taking place. She spun around and stared into the darkness. What she saw made her mouth fall open, her eyes widen with a mixture of emotions. Someone was ripping down the walls around the Jesus statue, tearing at them and pulling them down with a brute force Faith had never seen before. She watched, mesmerized, as the panels of plywood fell in heaps of scrap around the base of the statue. The entire process seemed to take no more than five minutes, and when the man was done, he fell back on his heels and stayed there, unmoving.

Lord, what should I do?
A ripple of anxiety coursed through Faith, and she glanced around, making sure no one else had seen what happened. She wanted to hurry over and thank the man for doing what she'd wanted to, but a voice of reason told her what she had just witnessed was wrong. The judge had ordered the walls up, and they should have stayed that way until—by God's design—they were ordered down. She pulled her coat tight around herself and began walking toward the man. Whoever he was, he was on her side and he apparently had a deeply personal interest in the Jesus statue.

The man remained on the ground and finally, when she was ten feet from him, he whipped around to face her.

Faith gasped. “Jordan! What are you doing here?” Her heart pounded and she took slow steps in his direction until the gap between them closed. He stared at her, and there was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. “You… I didn't see your car.”

“I parked on a side street.” He was breathing hard, and a layer of sweat glistened on his forehead.

She stared at the statue, at the piles of broken plywood, then her gaze met his again and her voice was barely a whisper. “Why, Jordan?”

He reached out and took her hands in his, searching her eyes as though he was only now seeing her for the first time. “Faith, I'm so sorry…”

The ground beneath her seemed to fall away “I…I don't understand.”

Jordan motioned to the statue. “The lawsuit, the walls… all of it was wrong, Faith. I must have been crazy.

She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry and in the end she did both, coming to him as he stood and wrapped her in his arms. It was a miracle beyond anything Faith could have imag-ined or hoped for. Jordan had torn down the walls around the Jesus statue, but not before God had torn down the walls around his heart. “What happened… what changed your mind?”

He drew back several inches and met her gaze. “Heidi gave me a letter…from my mom.” He shrugged, looking from the statue back to her as though he were still confused himself. “Something happened while I read it, Faith. I don't know how else to explain it.” He looked up at the dark, starless sky above them and Faiths heart beat high in her throat from the nearness of him.

God, is it true? Have You really restored his love for You?

Jordan uttered a quiet laugh and shook his head, his eyes still focused on the heavens. “It was all so amazing. I kept hearing you tell me I couldn't be angry at God forever… and Heidi saying sometimes our walk with the Lord gets confusing… and then my mom's words…set aside for me until this exact moment. Right when I needed them most.”

He looked at her, and a shiver ran down her spine. “I've been a fool, Faith.” He eased his fingers along the sides of her face and drew her gently toward him until their lips met. When they pulled apart, breathless from the cold air and the desire Faith knew they both were feeling, he ran his thumbs gently over her
brow, her cheekbones. “Faith, I love you. I always have.”

She wanted to shout aloud from the joy that welled up inside her. “I prayed you'd come back, Jordan.” She smiled and kissed him tenderly once more. “And now here you are.” Her eyes searched his. “Welcome home, friend.”

He cupped her face with his hands, framing her with his fin-gertips as though she were the finest treasure. “I have so much I want to tell you…” He grinned, and she saw the depth of love in his eyes. “So much I want to ask you. But there're some things I need to do first. Can you give me a few days?”

Faith didn't stop to consider his words. It didn't matter what he wanted to tell her. Instead, she let her head fall back a bit and laughed softly before meeting his eyes once more. “Are you kid-ding? I'm so happy for you, Jordan… whatever you want to talk about, take as long as you'd like.”

Jordan brought his face to hers once more, and kissed it in a way that made Faith's knees go weak. “Come on, little Miss Town Favorite,” he whispered near her ear. “You need to get home before you freeze to death.”

He put his arm around her shoulders, and they were halfway to her car when he stopped and turned to look back at the Jesus statue. Faith did the same and smiled at the way it glistened under the dim park lights. Jordan sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and cast her a hesitant look. “You think God'll for-give me for destroying public property?”

Faith hugged him and they started walking again. “To tell you the truth—” she grinned at him— “I think He already has.”

Joshua was up earlier than usual the next morning.

He sipped a mug of French vanilla roast as he flipped on the TV and turned it to the local news. He still couldn't shake the
Strange dream from the night before or the way the shout had seemed so real.

Real enough that Helen had heard it, too.

A commercial break ended and a newscaster appeared on the screen. “In other news, vandals apparently tore down the walls around the controversial Jesus statue in Bethany, Pennsylvania's Jericho Park last night…”

Joshua was on his feet, his coffee forgotten.
Dear God, did she say what I think she said?
The picture changed and suddenly Joshua was staring at the statue, standing victorious amid a pile of scrap wood. It was true, the dream he'd had the night before… the walls really had fallen!

“Helen! Get in here, quick!” Joshua kept his eyes trained on the screen and in that moment he had the distinct feeling that the walls around the statue weren't the only ones that had fallen the night before.

Father… thank You… I'm sorry for ever doubting…

The battle is Mine, Joshua… I will go before you as I always have. Your prayers have crossed My Jordan and now he and the land are both yours.

Joshua drew his eyebrows together as the strange thought drifted across his heart. Jordan and the land were his? It didn't make sense, but then nothing had since he'd first heard about the case. The day he'd seen the golden man in his office. It didn't matter. The Lord would make everything clear in the end.

“Helen!” He shouted again, his voice filled with celebration. The news segment was almost over and he didn't want her to miss it. “Helen, get in here! You won't believe it… It's just like my dream…”

T
wenty-four hours before the hearing and with every-thing that mattered to him waiting back in Bethany, the last thing Jordan wanted to do was drive east to New York. But he knew with every fiber of his being he couldn't move forward without first tying up the loose ends back home.

He walked into T J. Morris's office just before noon and shut the door.

His friend was working on a file. He whipped around, his features instantly frozen. “Jordan, what the—”

Jordan held up a hand. “Don't talk. Just listen.”

T. J. started to stand, started to open his mouth, but Jordan pointed to his friend's chair. “Sit. You owe me that much.”

A look of resignation flashed across T J.'s face. Slowly, silently he sat back down.