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Excerpt: Life rolled
on. Nothing stopped, nothing changed … even when his world had slammed to a
jarring halt.
The city lights pricked through the
dark of night, a night that threatened to swallow up the entirety of the city.
Cars slid by on the street below the hotel, each carrying a passenger to his
destination.
A demanding buzz cut through the
silence, and a sigh gathered as Gabe turned from the window. The phone he’d
thrown on the bed had been blowing up these last few days. Stupid thing.
His sigh broke free as he pivoted back to the window.
Probably Mr. Mathers inquiring about another client. Gabe should just pick up
the phone and tell the man he was on leave. He was not working right now. He
couldn’t.
Yet Mr. Mathers didn’t understand that some things came
before work. That making a profit was not the most important thing in life.
Oh, there was so much more to life—and it’d taken this to
make him realize it.
He’d been sitting in his new desk
chair at the office, printers humming nearby, keyboards ticking from each
cubicle. He’d just gotten off the phone with a would-be client, and the phone
had rung again. He hadn’t even glanced at the number.
“Gabriel? I—I have some very bad
news.”
The Russian words had jolted him,
had churned the coffee in his stomach. “What is it, Sergei?”
The head deacon of Mom and Dad’s
church plant had paused for long moments. Then his words had traveled those
thousands of miles and shattered Gabe’s world.
“Your parents were found dead early this morning.”
Somehow, he hadn’t lost his
breakfast on the desk. Somehow, he’d mumbled something to Sergei, assured him
he’d be on the next plane to Moscow.
Then he’d hung up, shaking uncontrollably as he’d choked
back sobs that would grip him short minutes later.
It’d been two years
since the week he’d visited Mom and Dad, and only this year, he’d gotten enough
vacation from work to plan another trip.
Now they were dead. Dead.
The funeral this afternoon had
sealed it. Sergei’s reddened eyes and hearty but mute embrace spoke more than
words. Every churchgoer, grasping his hands, pressing kisses to his cheeks,
offering tearful apologies, drove the reality home.
He’d never see Dad again. Never see
Mom again.
They were gone.
He lowered his head, his fists clenching as the gaping hole
tore at his chest. Tears burned the backs of his eyes—as if he hadn’t cried
enough in the past three days.
“Jesus
said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me,
though he were dead, yet shall he live …”
“Yes.” The word rasped over his raw throat.
Yes, he had to believe that. Had to cling to that, even when everything else
was so muddled.
He dragged in a breath. They were gone … but they were
alive. Mom and Dad were in heaven with the Savior they’d served so faithfully.
And he would see them again, just not on this earth.
That was comfort. That was truth.
But even those faithful promises didn’t stop the questions.
Why? Why would God take such good people? Hadn’t they given
their lives to His service and risked so much for the Russian people for more
than two decades?
And they’d died in a random burglary?
He turned from the window, swiping
at his grainy eyes. “Help me, Lord. I don’t know …”
He sank onto the bed. He didn’t know
anything. How was he supposed to function when his parents lay in their
graves—lay in this cold city they’d sacrificed so much for—with two bullet
holes in their bodies?
He groaned and buried his face in his hands.
The Bible said the Lord worked all things out for the good
of those who loved Him.
Even this?
His throat seized, and his eyes went
back to stinging. Dad had preached a sermon on the topic the last time Gabe had
been in the city.
“There’s
going to come a time when you and I look around us, and we’re not going to
understand. But the Lord understands—and He will use every situation, good or
bad, for our good. For His glory. And that is why we never despair, why we
never fear, and why we always hold firm to our faithful Lord.”
Dad’s voice, deeper than his own and
filled with so much compassion, so much love, so much faith.
Mom and Dad wouldn’t be doubting
God’s Ways. Dad would be praying. Mom would be singing a hymn. And they’d tell
him to do the same.
Yet they couldn’t tell him a thing.