“Jonah was angry. He didn’t think they deserved God’s mercy. He didn’t think they would accept His grace. But they did, and Jonah sat and pouted over the fact that he couldn’t watch a city of 120,000 men, women, and children be destroyed. God made it clear to Jonah that he did not have the right to be angry over God’s decisions.”
After several moments, she said, “Are you saying to me that I don’t have the right to be angry?”
“I’m saying that you had a right to be angry, hurt, scared. But now that he has repented and become a follower of Christ, you don’t have the right to be angry at God for offering him the same grace you received, because you didn’t deserve it any more than he did, any more than I did.”
A muscle ticked in her jaw and she glared at him. Finally, she said, “I’d like you to leave now.”
“I know.” He stood and looked down at her. “But hear this. I love you. I have always loved you. I am only speaking to you in love and compassion, and I pray that my words have done nothing to cause you any more pain.”
He left, wishing she hadn’t asked him to, thankful it took her so long to ask so he could say everything that had been placed on his heart. Now he could just pray for her. Pray for her heart. Pray for her soul. And pray for the two of them.
Valerie walked into the roomin the church where the support group met and found Madison alone. She had asked to meet Madison thirty minutes before the support group meeting, hoping no one else would arrive that early.
Madison approached her as she entered the room. “I’m so happy you reached out to me,” she said, gesturing toward two chairs that sat facing each other.
Valerie sat down and crossed her arms over her chest. She desperately wanted to have someone on her side right now. After Brad’s… what did she call it? Betrayal? That’s what it felt like. After Brad’s betrayal last night, she could hardly think or focus. She’d called in sick and spent the morning reading her Bible, finding the places Brad specifically brought up, seeking something other than the black and white words.
They sat and without preamble, Valerie told Madison about the letter from Tyrone and about her conversation with Brad. Madison’s smile slowly faded, and she leaned forward, her hands out, palms up. Valerie uncrossed her arms and lay her hands in Madison’s.
When she finished speaking, the silence stretched for perhaps the space of three calming breaths. Then her new friend spoke. “Valerie, do you know anything more about my story than what I shared your first night here?”
“Nothing specific, really. All I know is what you’ve shared here.”
“I didn’t think so.” Madison closed her eyes and Valerie saw them flutter behind her shut eyelids, as if searching for exactly the right words. Finally, she opened her eyes again, took a deep breath, and quietly said, “I know it’s hard for you to grasp the idea of forgiveness, but please believe me when I tell you that I understand exactly where you are right now and I also know where you can be.”
Valerie frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
Madison squeezed her hands, as if conveying unspoken support. “I was nineteen, my boyfriend was a really bad guy. He raped me when we first started dating. It was a violent rape. Not only did he choke me nearly to death, but he also broke my jaw by punching me with his closed fist.” Madison ran a slow finger along the length of her left jawline, as if the faint scars there were still fresh.
“I told myself it was because he was drunk, and it wasn’t anything else. So, when he said we had to move in together, I didn’t argue. After I moved in with him, I thought he would change. He did, in a way. He drank a lot more. He smoked pot a lot more. He also ridiculed me, humiliated me, used words to break me down, and occasionally he would manhandle me and toss me around. Nothing too bad, just really rough, you know?” Madison stopped talking and searched Valerie’s face, as if checking to ensure she could continue.
With a nod, she said, “About a year later, feeling spunky and brave, I told him off and he closed-fist punched me again. That’s when I left.”
Valerie felt her throat start to close and remembered the feel of a fist hitting her cheek, of the pain so intense that at first nothing else existed.
“This was about two months after I’d found out I was pregnant. It was about two months after the day he drove me to an abortion clinic and told me he couldn’t be with me if I had the baby. So, I didn’t argue. I went inside and I murdered my unborn child.”
Valerie nodded. “That’s what you said before,” she whispered.
“What I didn’t say was that I got a knock on my door years later, about six months after I graduated college, in fact. I opened my door and thought my world was going to fall out from under me when I saw him standing there on my stoop wearing a suit and tie with a very sincere and repentant look on his face.”
The gasp escaped Valerie’s mouth as if she had opened the door and Tyrone stood there. “What did he want?”
Madison smiled. “He wanted to beg my forgiveness. He wanted to tell me about how he’d found Jesus. He wanted me to know that he was going to seminary. He told me the memory of how he had treated me back then—and his part in killing our unborn child—how that all haunted him night and day. He was there to grovel.”
“What did you do?”
Madison checked her watch, clearly calculating how much time she had before other parishioners arrived to join the group. “Well, Valerie, to make a long story short, eventually, I married him.”
Valerie immediately pulled her hands away and pushed her chair back. She stood and stepped backward, crossing her arms over her chest in defense. “No.”
“It is an unusual case. The truth is I wouldn’t encourage anyone to do what I did. All I know is that when I talked to him, when he talked to me, everything about him was different. The verse in Corinthians about how we are new creatures in Christ really came home to me. He apologized, I let him talk, and then I told him never to call me again. But his words stuck with me, and I couldn’t get them out of my head. Eventually, I contacted him to talk some more. We talked and talked and, a year later, we had our first date.”
Valerie shook her head. “How could you just let it go so easily. What he did to you, your heart, your baby—”
“Were part of that old man who had died to sin and was reborn. Don’t misunderstand me, Valerie. I’m not saying that you should run off to Savannah and start a relationship with Tyrone. What I’m saying is that I know exactly how you feel right now. Exactly. And I also know exactly how betrayed you felt by Brad, and even by me right now. What happened to you matters. What he did to you matters. Forgiving him, letting it go, it isn’t going to take anything away from that. But it also isn’t going to condone what he did.”
Her mind swirled with thoughts and words that she couldn’t even give the substance. “I have to go.”
