Could she trust God even now, with all the world throwing stones and no refuge in sight?
Neither Valentine nor her pater nor even answered prayers could be the fortress in which she trusted.
“Yes.” She forced the word past her lips on the back of a sob. “You... are... good.”
Those words were even harder to say. She knew they were true, but they didn’tfeeltrue. “I will trust You. I... I don’t understand, but You... are good.”
Curled at the base of the almond tree, she repeated the truths over and over, fighting the despair that roared in her ears with the force of a hurricane.
You are good. I trust You. You are good. I trust You.
Gradually the tears subsided, the pain in her heart subdued—not all the way, not for good, but enough for now. She pushed herself upright, feeling the hardness of a tablet tucked into her sash. Her hand went over the spot. She barely remembered Titus pushing the small tablet into her hands as he left, apologizing over and over. He had to join his cohort. They were leaving at dawn, transferring somewhere to the north.
She clutched the tablet in both hands now, suddenly mourning the loss of her oldest friend. Valentine was with God. At peace, in paradise. But Titus faced battle, devoted to no god, believing that his fate resided firmly in his own hands. She’d refused to extend mercy and forgiveness. She dropped her head, guilt weighing it down.Forgive me. And help me to forgive.
She loosened the knot and unwound the cord wrapping the two halves of the tablet together. It was the same one she’d brought to Valentine, but the letter inside was different. For her. The words smudged and crooked as if written in haste and darkness. They blurred a moment before she blinked them clear again.
My dearest Iris,
Do not despair, whatever happens. My soul is secure in God. He is the only one who can rescue me now and I wait withexpectant hope; but even if He does not, do not lose faith. Do not lose hope. Our God is bigger than my death. Our God is bigger than the forces rising against us.
Be strong, my love. Hold fast to Him and do not lose heart. I know how it all ends.
We win.
Our God always wins. Our God is living. Our God is reigning. Our God is and will always be victorious. I told you at the beginning that your life as a Christ follower would not be easy. It would not be safe. But through it all you would not be alone. He is with us always, even at the end.
Our story may not have ended happily, but as Christ followers, our lives and stories never truly end. Our lives are but single threads woven into the tapestry of history—of God’s story. Who can tell what picture our threads will complete?
I will see you again, my love. My soul and body will soon be separated, but my heart I leave with you.
As I live and die, I remain your true and loving,
Valentine
Epilogue
CITY OF MYRA, LYCIAN COAST
IUNIUS, AD 275
Iris squinted against the brilliant sunlight glittering on the turquoise waves of the Mediterranean Sea and glanced at the port village scattered on the rocky shore. Pater and her new stepmother, Beatrix, made their way down the path toward her, hand in hand, a cluster of Cato and Delphine’s children skipping circles around them, laughing and chattering, voices garbled in the wind. Their parents were nowhere in sight, probably enjoying a few minutes of blessed silence.
Iris smiled. In the peace of Myra, the nightmare of Rome seemed a lifetime ago.
They’d left Rome the day after Valentine’s death. Somehow, and she never understood how, Abachum and Audifax had managed to steal Valentine’s body, which they’d brought back to the villa and buried in the courtyard, planting the potted almond tree above the grave to disguise it. They’d all fled hours later when guards surrounded the home. Iris, Quintus, and Beatrix had managed to escape through the culina door with Cato, Delphine, and the children. Word had reached them later that Marius, Martha, and the two younger sons had not fared so well. The men had been cut down in the streets, Martha drowned in a public fountain. Refusing to let anyone else suffer at the hands of the Praetorians, Cato ordered the sailors to take them aboard his father’s merchant ship and leave Rome that night.
Iris left the path and scrabbled over the rocks along the harbor village of Andriake where painted fishing boats bobbed behind the breakers or were hauled like beached whales onto the white sand. She settled on a speckled rock, giving her the perfect view of the sea and the dead-flat road that stretched to the large city of Myra at the foot of the Taurus Mountains. A warm breeze lifted the hair on her forehead, and she inhaled the sharp saltiness, basking in the warmth and stillness before tugging the letter from her sash.
The tablet was worn smooth with handling and the wax had long since hardened to permanence, and although she knew the contents of it by heart, she opened it again and read it, heart tightening at the familiar, beloved handwriting. She loved Valentine. Missed him still. But the suffocating crush of loss no longer squeezed the air from her lungs. The five years in Myra had been peaceful ones, healing ones, but not without pangs of loneliness, especially after her father and Beatrix had married—as glad as she was about that.
Iris closed the letter and wrapped it shut with the cord, thankful for the promise that the Lord’s faithfulness remained even amid her doubts and questions. He was good. God had made beauty from pain before. She could do nothing more than trust that He would do it again.
Quintus and Beatrix led the children to the water, where they squealed and splashed in the waves. Iris looked back at the road to see if Cato and Delphine were coming and noticed a single speck moving along in the distance. A slow speck. Shuffling in a humped sort of way. As the speck drew closer, it elongated into a rectangle and then into a man carrying a small traveler’s sack. He must have come a great distance. Iris replaced the letter into her sash as she stood, preparing to greet the weary stranger and invite him to their home for food and rest as they often did. She skipped across the rocks and hopped onto the road, chiton swirling around her legs.
The stranger had come to a faltering stop in the road. Iris looked up and froze.
The pause felt like minutes before she realized her feet were moving. Running. She nearly bowled him over.
