Remember (43 page)

Kari held her breath and looked at him.
No, God, please . . . no problems. Not now.
“What?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

She could feel the grin spread across her face. With an awkward motion, she stood up and helped him to his feet. Then she took hold of his hands and looked into his eyes one more time. “Yes, Ryan Taylor, I’ll marry you.” She leaned her head back and shouted toward heaven. “Yes! A hundred times yes!”

He pulled her to him and touched the sides of her face with his fingertips. “I love you, Kari. I hope you never get tired of hearing it—because this time I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

Was she dreaming? None of it felt real yet, and she giggled as she hugged Ryan again. “I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad.”

“There’s one thing I want to do first.”

Kari angled her head, waiting for Ryan to explain.

“Pray with me, Kari. Please.”

He took her hands in his and bowed his head. Together they thanked God for his sovereignty and for his divine timing, for his gift of love, and for his leading in their relationship.

Then they thanked him for removing one word from their vocabulary forever—a word that had haunted them as far back as they could remember.

The word
good-bye.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Luke Baxter felt like a different person altogether.

He and Lori Callahan had gotten an A on their assignment. With very little effort, really, they had successfully—at least by Professor Hicks’s standards—argued that God did not exist.

Privately, Luke thought the assignment results seemed a bit flat and manipulated. After all, there wasn’t a concrete way to prove or disprove God’s existence. But in the process of doing the assignment, something life-changing had happened to Luke. He had discovered the power of humanism—the worldview Professor Hicks swore by.

The only surprise was that he hadn’t discovered it before. The basic ideas of humanism were everywhere these days, weren’t they? Print advertisements for the Winter Olympics touted “Celebrate Humanity,” and a newly formed coalition had begun running commercials encouraging people to fight terrorism by going to work and getting involved and continuing the quest for education. “Fight Terrorism,” the ads instructed America. “Live brave.”

And that was what mattered, wasn’t it, in light of September 11 and the continuing threats from terrorists? That people supported each other and lived bravely together? It was all about people, not God.

Luke and Lori had discussed this topic at length, often at her parents’ house with her father present.

“Religion is dangerous,” her father had said on several occasions. “People don’t need a crock full of traditions and old wives’ tales.” He would smile that serious smile of his. “They need tangible answers and faith in the one thing they can count on—the basic goodness of humanity. Especially at times like this.”

Lori’s father had been thrilled when he found out that Luke had an interest in law. “A boy like you—bright, intelligent—that’s exactly what we need to keep all the crazy right-wingers from eroding our constitutional rights.”

The idea sounded appealing to Luke and, not long after the semester ended, he made his decision. He would study law and become the same kind of attorney as Lori’s dad. By now—the middle of January—he was spending more time with Lori and her family than he was with his own.

It was only a natural progression of events, of course, that he should be gone more often from his parents’ house. After all, neither of them seemed interested in debating with him the reality of God. Certainly they wouldn’t consider his point of view valid. How could they? None of them saw the burgeoning movement of humanism as a viable alternative to mainline Christianity. Not yet, anyway.

In addition to being stubborn, his family—in fact, most of his sisters—were outspokenly disappointed in the things he said and the company he kept. “You’re breaking Dad’s heart,” Kari had told him last week. “At least talk to him, hear him out. This is all about losing Reagan, Luke—don’t you see that? Dad can pray with you, show you some Bible verses, help you understand what’s going on.”

Show him some Bible verses? Couldn’t Kari see he was past that now? Luke had always gotten along with Kari, but with statements like that, she’d crossed a line. “You know what’s wrong with you?” he shouted at her as he left the room that day. “You think every problem can be solved with a prayer and a Bible verse.”

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and uttered a single laugh. “Look at the people buried beneath the World Trade Center, Kari. Lotta good prayer and a Bible verse did them!”

She’d started to say something, but he hadn’t wanted to hear it. How come it had taken the terrorist attacks to make him see how closed-minded his family was?

Out of the entire family, in fact, only Ashley seemed to understand what was going on with Luke. Or at least, she didn’t tell him he was ruining his life like the others did.

“I love you, Luke,” she’d told him a dozen times since the attacks. “Whatever you believe, whatever you do with your life . . . I’ll always love you.” She would hug him or kiss his cheek. “I missed out on too many years of loving you to ever let that happen again.”

Ashley was treating him the way he should have treated her all those years after she came home from Paris. But then he was a different person back then—as judgmental and narrow in his thinking as the rest of them. Of course, Ashley had no idea how much they actually had in common. He hadn’t told anyone about what happened between Reagan and him the night before her father was killed.

It wasn’t something he planned to share. Not ever.

Not because he thought what he and Reagan did was wrong—he was past that now. It just wasn’t anybody’s business.

When he thought about it, Ashley’s acceptance of him was further proof that the human spirit was the greatest force of all. God wasn’t what motivated Ashley to extend love and friendship to Luke. It was her innate sense of personal kindness and love—the very attributes that were so obviously at work in the United States since the attacks.

Sure, in the past he would have credited God and faith and answered prayer for the changes in his sister. But how could he hold on to those childish beliefs when they hadn’t proved the least bit reliable? If God was real and prayer worked, then it would work every time, wouldn’t it?

The way he saw it these days, Christians had a way of celebrating what seemed like miraculous answers to prayer and sweeping under the rug the times when prayer didn’t make a difference. So even the most devout believers seemed to carry some type of doubt about God. How could he put his trust in a higher power who wasn’t consistent?

Not that it had been easy to leave behind a lifetime of training. Every now and then he’d dismiss God and prayer and faithfulness, and the strangest whisper would seem to blow across his heart:

I have loved you with an everlasting love, my son. Return to me.

Luke had no intention of returning. He chalked up the strange murmuring to an overactive imagination and a lifetime of conditioning. As the weeks went by, the whispers had grown quieter, until now they were barely noticeable.

“It’s like you were brainwashed,” Lori said one night when he told her about the imperceptible voice and the message it brought. “I can’t believe you swallowed that stuff all your life.”

The thing with Lori was sort of weird. He wasn’t exactly attracted to her, although he had no doubt about her feelings for him. Way back on the third night of meeting to do their communications report, she had asked him to sleep with her. He’d politely turned her down, explaining that he was still in love with Reagan. But the truth was, he’d never dated a girl so direct before. To him, it was like playing a game of basketball without an opponent—no challenge, no mystery whatsoever.

Still, the more time he spent with Lori, the more fun they had together. She might not be the type of girl he could see himself marrying one day, but her intellect was exciting. It had brought him to another level of thinking. And she wasn’t bad-looking, with her clear green eyes and her cloud of dark curls. One of these days, they were bound to cross the line from friendship to dating. Already they’d kissed a few times, and Luke could see things getting more serious between them.

And why not?

He was a free man, after all. His relationship with Reagan was history. He called her only once in a while anymore, intending to wish her well and offer his sympathy about her father. But she still had not accepted even one of his phone calls.

All of it—Luke’s decision to embrace humanism, his idea of becoming a civil-liberties attorney, and his growing friendship with Lori and her family—had made such an impact on Luke that he had spoken to his father early this week and asked if they could have an evening to talk.

“Definitely. What night works for you?”

Luke hated the way his father had looked relieved by the question.
He thinks I’m going to go back to the way I was. Well, he’ll know the truth soon enough.

They’d decided on Thursday night, and Luke expected the discussion would go well. His dad would be disappointed with Luke’s decision, of course. But still, he was a good man, one of the best Luke had ever known.

Despite his determination to cling to an irrational faith, the heart of humanism beat strongly in John Baxter.

Luke could only hope that heart would be evident on Thursday night.

* * *

John Baxter was worried about his only son.

The rate at which Luke was slipping from them was no longer something John could reason away. He and Elizabeth had watched him turn into a reclusive, critical young man whose faith had all but disappeared. They had talked at length about the decisions Luke was making and the influence Lori Callahan seemed to have on him.

When they weren’t talking about Luke, they were praying. Every night and each morning, they asked God to get Luke’s attention and snap him back to the only reality he’d ever known—the reality of faith and the certainty that life came from a God who did care and did love him, regardless of the heartaches that came with living.

On Thursday, the day he’d agreed to meet with Luke, John not only prayed every chance he had, but he fasted as well. Fasting wasn’t something he did often, and never did he share the fact with anyone except Elizabeth. But that day, he felt it was necessary.

On the way home from his office he prayed again.
Be with us tonight as we talk. Let peace and love prevail. Speak your words through my lips. Please, Father. Don’t let my only son get away. I couldn’t bear it.

The answer that John heard now, deep in his soul, was the same he’d heard all day.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

It was a Scripture verse John and Luke had memorized together when Luke was just eight years old. Back then it had opened the door to Luke’s blossoming understanding of all the goodness God had in store for those who followed him. Now it reminded John that Luke’s struggles would not be happening except for one thing: The enemy was at work.

What
had
happened? Luke had been the strongest one, the golden boy destined to live a life of faith. But hadn’t he shown signs all along that his faith wasn’t what it should be? What about the way he’d reacted to Ashley’s situation? And Kari’s? Somehow, during his teenage years, he’d become rigid and legalistic, forgetting the power of grace and forgiveness.

John wondered why he hadn’t talked to Luke back then, when he’d first noticed those changes.

He had no answers for that, any more than he fully understood what was happening to Luke now. But this he knew: No matter how bad the situation looked, God would win in the end. His purposes would prevail. John only hoped that one day soon Luke would remember the truths he’d known and believed as a young boy, the very truths he was running so hard from these days.

That night, when dinner was finished, Luke came home and found John in the family room. John tried to read him, but it was impossible. Luke seemed stiff, his face tense and anxious. “Can we talk now?”

“Sure.” John smiled. The last thing he wanted was to come across as suspicious. If Luke wanted to talk, he needed a good listener, and John intended to be just that.

They made their way upstairs to John’s home office. John shut the door and took a seat opposite Luke. He looked at him, hoping his expression was kind. “May I say something before we begin?”

“Sure.” Luke made brief eye contact with John and then dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I’m proud of you for wanting to talk.” John clasped his hands and leaned forward. “I know you’re going through a hard time.” He gave his son a lopsided grin. “It means a lot that you asked for this meeting.”

Luke licked his lips and shifted. “Okay.”

“So . . .” John leaned back. “What would you like to talk about?”

Luke lifted his eyes. “I want to move out.”

John’s stomach turned. There was no anger in Luke’s voice, just determination—frightening, unbending determination.
Help me here, God. Help me.
Luke’s mind had obviously been made up long before this discussion.

John drew a slow breath. “Okay, that’s understandable. You’re old enough to get a place of your own.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, as though John’s answer surprised him. “I’ve also made some career plans.”

Calm. Be calm.
“I’m listening.”

“I want to be a civil-liberties attorney. It’s something Lori’s dad  told me about.” Luke’s voice had an edge to it. “Make sure human freedoms aren’t trampled by narrow, closed-minded, special-interest groups.”

John’s lungs deflated like leftover party balloons. He could guess what “narrow, closed-minded, special-interest groups” Lori’s father had in mind. “As your father, I will respect whatever decisions you make, Luke. I’ll never love you less or hold it against you if you choose that type of career.” He anchored his elbows on his knees and brought his face closer to Luke’s. “But I can’t let you tell me that without sharing something with you.”