A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (14 page)

Carter spoke up. "Agreeing with God about our sin."

"Yep." Matt nodded. "Did God forgive us before or after we agreed with Him about our sin? Before or after we confessed?"

"He forgave us while were still sinners."

Confusion spiraled through Chance. Every time Dakota spoke, wisdom and truth flowed from her lips. She definitely wasn't the same person he'd known before.

"Yes, He did." Matt's voice softened, and his eyes took on a radiant gleam. "God's forgiveness is based on His never-ending love, mercy, and grace. When we say the Lord's Prayer and get to the part that says 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,' have you ever stopped to think of what you're saying? Have you ever considered that you're asking God to forgive you in the same way you forgive others?"

A sacred hush descended, so quiet and still even the tick of the clock sounded deafening. Chance's chest tightened with each jump of the second hand.
Oh, God, I'm so sorry. Help me to forgive as You've forgiven me.
He looked up to see other heads around the room bowed in silent prayer.

Tears swam in Matt's eyes. "I don't know about y'all, but when I think of how much God has forgiven me, it makes me want to be more forgiving. Maybe that's what Jesus tried to teach His disciples, and us. We learn to forgive by remembering and understanding just how much God has forgiven us."

He paused a moment to wipe his eyes. "Okay, let's head back to repentance. Here's a mental snapshot." Matt stepped toward one side of the room and pointed ahead. "I'm heading toward sin, doing what I want to do when I want to do it, ignoring God." Suddenly he stopped. "Then I realize it." He pivoted and started in the opposite direction. "I turn away from my sin, and in the process I head back to God. That's repentance. Now, based on all we've just discussed, is repentance of the offender necessary for us to forgive them?"

"No, but it sure helps." Carter's deadpan tone brought on more laughs.

Matt's hearty chuckle joined the rest. "It might make it easier for us to forgive, but it's not a requirement. Same can be said of apologies, contrition, regret. We may want to see those things in a person who's hurt us, but nowhere in the Bible are those things mentioned as things that have to take place before we forgive." Matt moved to the whiteboard and circled the word 'apology.' He faced the group with a smile on his face and his right hand raised. "As kids, how many of you ever had to say you were sorry to someone for something you did?"

Hands raised around the room as laughter and comments broke out.

"And how many of you apologized without meaning one word?"

The laughter increased.

Matt lowered his hand. "Let's talk about apology a sec. We've already seen it's not necessary for forgiveness, but let's talk about why." He walked over to where Chance sat. "If I wrong Chance and go to him and say 'Man, I'm really sorry for what I did,' does that require any sort of response from him?"

Heads shook from side to side.

"But what if I say, 'Man, I'm really sorry for what I did. Will you forgive me?' Now that demands a response on his part. How does that change things?"

"It puts both you and the offender one step closer to reconciliation." The same familiar voice from the same back corner of the room.

"Now there's another concept all tied up with forgiveness. Will we always experience reconciliation when we forgive?" Matt shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. "That's the ideal, but it doesn't always work. Both parties have to be on board with reconciliation for that to ever happen. What about trust? Is it always restored when we forgive others?" He eyed the clock on the back wall. "One more thing before we go. How do we know when we've truly forgiven someone?"

No one answered.

"Pray and think about that question this week. Let's pray, and then we'll be dismissed."

Chance's head swam with thoughts as he stood with the rest of the class to be dismissed in prayer. All this time he'd confused the issues of forgiveness, repentance, confession, reconciliation, and the restoration of trust. He rubbed a hand across his mouth. Enough to give anyone a headache. At some point, he had to come to grips with the fact that even if he and Dakota forgave each other, they might never reach reconciliation and restored trust. Those two things would have to be mutually agreed upon. Did he even want reconciliation? Did he actually believe they could trust each other after all that had happened between them? His shoulders slumped.
Oh, Lord, help us both. This thing is too big for us to handle on our own.

Chapter Twelve

D
akota breathed in deeply. The scent of musty earth rose from the base of the old oak near the church, the shade cool and inviting, a place to hide away from Chance while she waited for Matt and Grace Tyler. On a whim last night, after a very long and trying day of working with Chance, she'd pulled out Matt's counseling card and given him a call.

She wiped sweaty palms against her jeans. At this particular moment it seemed like an incredibly stupid move, but she was at her wit's end about how to handle the situation with Chance.

With a step backward, she leaned against the rough bark of the tree, her eyes trained on the people descending the church steps. The farmhouse renovation just had to work. Yes, to honor her grandparents and J.C., but more than anything, she longed for some place safe and permanent.

But how much more hurt could she endure from Chance? This morning's lesson on forgiveness had been both thought-provoking and inspiring. Just what she needed to hear. And Chance too, for that matter, if he'd listened with the idea of applying what he learned to himself. Letting hurts go was something she'd worked on for years, but having Chance as a constant accuser had re-opened old scabs and scars, like a piece of rough grit sandpaper against her heart.

Matt and Grace appeared in front of her out of nowhere. "There you are." Matt held his wife's hand, a friendly grin in place. "We almost didn't see you in the shadow of this old live oak."

"I meant to keep an eye on the front door so I could step out when I saw you. Guess I got distracted."

"Okay if we eat lunch at our house? Thought we might have more privacy there." Matt searched her face, as though waiting not only for an answer, but also digging deeper for non-verbal clues.

She lowered her head. "Sure. That sounds great."

"You can follow us to the house. I'll get lunch together while you two talk." Grace spoke the words kindly, but also matter-of-factly. One of those get-straight-to-business types.

A few minutes later Dakota followed behind the Tyler's brand new SUV in her rusty old tank of a pickup. A slow burn moved to her cheeks, and she brought fingertips to rub it away. What had she been thinking? Yes, she needed someone to talk to. Desperately. But Matt and Grace were way out of her league.

By the time they arrived at the beautiful two-story house a minute later, she'd almost decided to call the whole thing off. The Tyler's pulled into the long driveway, then waited by the concrete steps leading to the front porch, both with welcoming smiles.

"Your house is beautiful." Dakota approached slowly, peering up at the architectural detail of the early twentieth-century house.

"Thank you." Grace started up the steps, Matt at her side.

Dakota bit her lip and tried to think of an excuse to leave. Nothing.

Inside, the home was surprisingly modern and up-to-date, with clean-line furnishings and a contemporary color palette which fit the couple. "Very nicely done." Dakota gazed through the open-living concept space, past the gargantuan stair case, living room and dining room, and into the expansive kitchen.

"Why don't you two sit in here by the fire to chat while I get lunch together?" Grace clicked a remote to turn on the gas log fireplace.

Nice.

Matt held out a hand toward a comfortable-looking chair while his wife's shoes clipped unevenly against the hardwood floors, revealing her pronounced limp. Hadn't Chance mentioned something about a bad accident which had paralyzed Grace for a while?

"Glad you called last night, Dakota. Gracie and I've been hoping to get to know you better." Matt removed his jacket and laid it across the back of the sofa before taking a seat.

Spanish music sounded from the kitchen, and Gracie sang along softly.

"If the music bothers you, we'll turn it off. We're both music lovers."

"Gracie has a beautiful voice, and it doesn't bother me at all." In fact, she preferred it. Maybe it would keep Grace from hearing her conversation with Matt. The last thing she needed was for someone she admired so much to think less of her.

"We enjoyed having you in small group this morning, too. You had great answers. I can tell you're a fellow believer."

Her cheeks flushed. "Thank you." Dakota lowered her gaze, searching for words. Maybe she just needed to spurt it out before she completely lost her nerve. "The topic of forgiveness is actually the reason I called."

"Oh?" Matt crossed an ankle over his knee and rested one arm along the back of the couch.

"Yeah. there's someone I thought I'd forgiven, but being around this person seems to dredge up old issues and hurts, making me wonder if I've forgiven them at all."

"I take it we're talking about Chance."

A breath lodged in her throat. She hadn't wanted to make this person-specific, but who else could it be? Her hands grew restless in her lap, and her knees began their own little dance.

"What do you think causes those old hurts to re-surface?"

How did she say this without sounding accusatory? "I guess because he blames me for something that happened a long time ago and treats me accordingly."

"And how is that?"

Like trash. "Like an inferior." She paused. "I know I'm to blame for part of what happened between us, but I don't bear full responsibility. When he treats me like it's my fault, it hurts. I know I have to forgive him. I don't struggle with that so much as why I should continue to allow him to hurt me."

"You shouldn't." Matt's lips clamped in a thin line. "You don't do anyone a favor when you allow them to treat you poorly. Like we said this morning in class, forgiveness doesn't mean excusing what the other person does, but it also doesn't mean you become a doormat."

Just what she'd done with Kane--become his doormat--and she had the shoeprints on her back to prove it. "That's a problem. I have to work with Chance. I can't figure out how to be around him without being in constant emotional pain."

He rubbed a hand across his mouth, then propped his chin on his hand, an index finger at rest directly below his nose. "I can see where that would be a problem. Have you tried explaining how you feel?"

Had she? "I've tried to tell him how he's acting." But sharing her feelings wasn't something she did easily.

Matt cocked his head to one side, his gaze directly on her, his eyes sincere. "That could be part of the issue. Most people don't like their shortcomings pointed out."

Dakota nibbled at the inside corner of her mouth. Come to think of it, neither did she.

"Maybe you should just explain to him how his behavior and comments make you feel. Instead of starting a sentence with the word 'you,' try rephrasing it with the words 'I feel.'"

"I can do that." Wow. Matt had given her really useful advice in just a few minutes time. Now if she could just figure out how to accurately describe her feelings to Chance without turning into a weepy mess.

"But something about it bothers you."

Very perceptive man. Dakota sucked in a deep breath. "I'm not good at focusing on my feelings. At least not with another person."

Matt nodded. "That's common, Dakota. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, sometimes people who are the most vulnerable are often the one's who struggle with it the most."

Vulnerable? Did she really come across as vulnerable?

"That bothers you, too."

"I don't like to think of myself as vulnerable. I've survived a lot more than most people my age. I think I'm strong and able to handle just about anything."

"Vulnerability doesn't supersede personal strength. It takes a lot of strength to be vulnerable with someone."

Dakota thought through the statement. Yes, but did she have that kind of strength?

Matt's expression underwent a subtle change, like an unwanted guest had knocked on the door of his heart. "Sounds like you might've had a childhood similar to mine."

She sat up straighter. Matt Tyler had a bad childhood? And he'd turned out so well. The thought somehow offered hope. "What do you mean?"

"My mother abandoned Andy and me shortly after I was born. Dad never got over it, and preferred the company of alcohol over his sons. Andy became the head of the house at the ripe old age of five. I handled it differently, with long hair, tattoos, and a rebellious streak."

Compassion flooded her heart and leaked out her eyes without warning. She swiped at tears. "Kids have to live through so much sometimes."

His forehead wrinkled, and he nodded. "You mind me asking what you had to deal with?"

Every muscle in her body tensed. Not a topic she particularly wanted to discuss, but since she was already here. "My dad had an affair when I was a little girl. Mom couldn't forgive him, and they divorced. My mother and older sister always hit it off. I was a Daddy's girl. After he left, I had no one." Tears flowed down her cheeks, unstoppable. "After that, I had trouble in school and trouble with Mom's boyfriends. I ran away several times, which also put me in trouble with the law. I ended up in juvy, then got tossed around from place to place until I ended up at my grandfather's farm at the end of my senior year." The words spilled out, as though long pent up behind a stone-hard dam.