Twisted Innocence (Moonlighters Series Book 3) (30 page)
She took his hand, pressed her lips to his palm. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Joe?”
She smiled sadly. “No, not Joe. I came to terms with that months ago. I can’t believe Miller is out of our lives. That it’s really over. He took so many things from us . . . so many people. He destroyed so much . . .”
Michael looked out over the water. “But God has a way of giving things back.”
She slipped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, and he held her as she wept. Finally, when her tears were spent, she drew in a long breath. “So when are you going to marry me?”
He smiled. “Now?”
She laughed. “How about a week from Saturday? We’ll see if the church is free Saturday night, and we’ll call everyone we want to come. We can ask our families to help us call everybody.”
“And you already have your dress.”
She shook her head. “There’s a sample sale at the bridal store this week. I know I can find a dress I like. I can go tomorrow and buy a sample off the rack.”
“What about . . . your other dress?”
She sighed. “I don’t want to marry you in the dress I was going to wear to marry Joe. I want to start fresh with you. You’re not an extension of Joe. I can donate that dress to someone who can’t afford one. That way it’ll get used.”
Michael framed her face in his calloused hands and pulled back to look at her clearly. “Are you sure?”
He saw no doubt in her eyes. “I’m positive. I don’t want to wait a day longer than we have to. We’ve already waited so long.”
Michael kissed her then, and Cathy got to her feet, smiling, grabbed his hand, and pulled him down the beach to where the waves broke against the sand. As the breeze whispered across the water, she kick-splashed him and yelled, “We’re getting married!”
Laughing with her, he picked her up. A wave crashed into
them, knocking him off balance, and he fell with her in his arms. Laughter scored the night as they sat wet on the sand with waves splashing around them, settling into the idea of a new life without the pall of Leonard Miller hanging over them.
T
he moment Leonard Miller was buried, Holly felt a surprising sense of freedom and hope. The DEA had taken the case and had gotten reams of information from Jack Humphrey about Miller’s contacts and cohorts, who were now being rounded up and charged with multiple counts of drug trafficking. The names of the rest of his contacts were found in a twenty-dollar file cabinet in Miller’s office. Though he’d been careful to keep his identity from most of his contacts, he hadn’t been as careful with their names and contact information.
The cocaine trade in the Florida panhandle had been seriously curtailed—at least for a while, until someone else filled the vacuum. As long as there were buyers, there would be someone to sell. But for now, things were harder for those who made their living from other people’s destruction.
Because the wedding was simple, with only Max and Juliet
standing up for Michael and Cathy, Holly sat in the front row of the church with Creed and Lily.
On the days leading up to the ceremony, Holly and Creed had been inseparable except when he was working. His father had hired him to work in his construction business, and despite his wounded arm, Creed had attacked the job with zeal. Every day after work he had dinner with Holly and Lily. Holly’s immediate comfort with him was a portrait of grace in her life, a reminder that God cared more for her than she had ever cared for herself.
The small wedding chapel at Michael and Cathy’s church had been decked out with white roses, their scent lingering on the air.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Michael was saying, his voice wobbling. Cathy was lovely as she smiled at her groom through a shimmer of tears.
Their father—his expression vacant, since Alzheimer’s had ravaged his brain—sat next to Holly, unaware of where he was. Juliet had gotten him from the nursing home and dressed him in a suit and tie, and he reminded Holly of the man who’d stood in the pulpit years ago, before his choices had injured her faith. But today was a healing day. Jesus’ presence overshadowed the pain and doubt and revived the truth they’d always known.
Lily lay quietly in the crook of Holly’s arm, dressed in a long white gown. Creed touched Holly’s left ring finger. His eyes were moist as he leaned toward her ear and whispered, “I’m in love with you, Holly.”
Holly sucked in a breath. As Michael said, “Till death do us part,” she whispered, “I love you too.”
Cathy began to repeat the vows to Michael. As she did,
Holly looked down at Lily. Her eyes were open wide, looking from her mother to her father, as if somehow in the center of her awareness she knew what was happening.
As Cathy repeated the vows, Holly leaned into Creed, kissed him on the cheek. They hadn’t known each other long, but they had grown so close in such a short period. They needed time to get to know each other even better, but Holly had no doubt where this was going. Creed had quietly stated his intentions toward both her and her daughter, and she had accepted with no trumpets or fanfare. Just a soft, gentle peace and an open heart, full of the perfect love that could only exist in a heart wiped clean.
A
s I write this, I’m so aware that many of you are suffering. It’s always been that way, and Jesus warned that it would be. “In this world you will have trouble,” He said. “But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). But lately, as I deal with issues in my own life and the lives of my friends and family members, I see more suffering than usual. It’s as if the enemy only has a few days left, so he’s kicking as much dirt as he can into the eyes of his opponents. In my own case, it’s not comforting when people tell me that his attacks are so blatant against me because I’m a threat to his work. Knowing that does not lessen the severity of those attacks, though it does give them some meaning.
I find that his assaults against me are to keep me busy and distracted, sick and hurting, so that I’m not doing my part in prayer, and it’s nearly impossible to do the work I’m called to. If he’s scheming to take each of us off the battlefield as he
ramps up his attacks on the world, are we falling for it? If I were to be honest, I’d have to admit that I sometimes do. It’s never been more important to pray, yet I sometimes feel paralyzed in my prayer life. And I see that same phenomenon with one Christian friend after another.
I wish I could say that I handle my trials well, that I fit in to the category of The Faithful who take their blows with class and grace. But sometimes I fear that I’m falling into that category of the seeds choked out by the worries of the world (Mark 4:18–19). If I allow the enemy to knock me out so that I’m not praying or staying in communion with God, then the enemy has won a victory over me. As Paul so often says in Scripture, “May it never be!”
If you’re experiencing this, too, you are not alone. This is a spiritual battle, and we are not equipped to fight it without the armor of God. And as I’ve written before, the armor of God doesn’t just spring up overnight. It comes with much prayer and study and with a deep knowledge of, and faith in, God’s Word. Those things build up our armor. Those who haven’t put in the time getting to know their savior lack that armor, and that’s why we see so many fall away from faith.
This is an all-out war against true believers. Instead of schemes, the enemy sometimes uses a sledge-hammer on us. Just remember—
he hates our guts
and wants to paralyze us.
When I talk to friends about what could be happening—why so many Christians seem to be suffering—they sometimes say that the American church needs to be pruned, that we have it so easy here that we’re shallow and flabby. There are people all over the world who are persecuted for their faith. In Iraq, many Christians are being slaughtered for refusing to convert to Islam, yet they demonstrate such deep faith that they don’t fall
away, even when it means their death. Let’s face it, American Christians do have it easy by comparison. However, I don’t think that the shallowness in the American church has made God overlook us or turn His back on us. Instead of pruning us corporately, the way He does in countries where persecution is rampant and deadly, He works in our lives individually to prune us in different ways. Yes, we are blessed with peace and the freedom to worship as we want, so we often take that for granted. But He loves us enough to work in our lives anyway. That means that He sometimes allows the enemy to persecute us individually—through grief, sickness, physical and emotional pain, disappointment, financial hardship, legal issues, etc.,
in order to deepen our faith
. I have to remind myself that He chooses how much we’re pruned. Satan can do nothing without God’s permission. Our Creator is in control.
I can either rail at God and wave my fists at Him—and fall away from faith—or I can trust that whatever He’s allowing into my life is for a reason, and it will make me the kind of Christian He wants me to be. In other words, He isn’t letting us off the hook just because we enjoy so many freedoms. He works in the lives of each individual Christian—shallow or deep, insightful or dense—and matures us through specific, custom-designed trials. Peter said, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation” (1 Peter 4:12–13
NASB
).
I guess it comes down to trust in God. Can we trust Him with our development as Christians, even if it hurts? I was just listening to an interview by a burn victim, who talked about
the process of debriding his skin each day—having it scrubbed in an excruciating attempt to keep it from getting infected so it would heal. If that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t be here today, but what a horrible thing to endure each day. Still, he came out on the other side, and while I’m sure he still has massive scars, he’s a different person because of it. Maybe it’s the same way with us. What God allows to get us where He wants us can be agonizing, and it can leave scars. But Jesus has scars, too, and He will use that pain for good if we let Him.
This life is not about our comfort. We have an eternity for that. I really think this is about training and testing. We will have work to do in Heaven, work that is fulfilling and perfect for us. God needs to develop certain skill sets in us before that time. That may be what this life is about.
As I close this, I’m praying for you, for all of us, that we will be found faithful and that these assaults bring us closer to our Lord rather than knocking us away from Him. May we never let the enemy have the victory.
“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2–4
NASB
).
1. How do you feel about Holly’s and Creed’s relationship? Is Holly making a mistake?
2. Was Holly right to keep Creed in the dark about Lily?
3. How has Creed redeemed himself? Or has he?
4. Have there been times in your life when you felt God was disgusted with you?
5. Do you think Holly is a good mother? Is Creed a good father? What makes a good parent?
6. Were you bothered by the author’s handling of Holly’s “single mom” status?
7. Does God have a plan for broken people who’ve made mistakes? Does He send an ambulance or a firing squad?
8. Discuss Michael’s reaction to his hard times. How did he remain positive?
9. How did faith play a role in each character’s life?
10. How have you grown through reading about Holly?
O
ver the years, I’ve been blessed to work with some of the finest publishing professionals in the business, so I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge one of them now. One of the first people I met when I switched to writing Christian fiction was David Lambert. I had worked with many New York editors in my career, but I quickly saw that Dave was by far the best. Though he is brutal with every manuscript I turn in, he never fails to spark ideas and motivate me into taking my book to the next level. It’s hard work pleasing him, but I have to give him credit for much of my success. Some people think I’m a glutton for punishment when I ask for him time after time, but I know that he’s the one who can make me work the hardest to deliver an entertaining read. So thank you, Dave, for all you’ve done to make me the author I am today.
And to all the other editors I work with to polish and perfect my work (though it will never be perfect)—among them
Ellen Tarver, Amanda Bostic, Susan Brower, Karen Ball, Bob Hudson, and Ami McConnell—I want to thank you too. You have each invested something important in me, something that has helped me mature as a writer, and you’ve made my books more readable, more entertaining, and more spiritually challenging.
I would not be here if it weren’t for all of you.
