Home to Hart's Crossing by Robin Lee Hatcher Page A

sorry for myself. You’ve given us these weeks together. Let me rejoice in them while they’re here.
    “Mom?”
    “Hmm?”
    “When I was a little girl, we pretty much always went to church, didn’t we? You and Daddy and me.”
    Francine tried not to look surprised by the question. “Yes, we did. We rarely missed a Sunday. Why do you ask?”
    “Well…I was wondering something.” Angie’s gaze was fastened on some point beyond the treetops. “You’ve always believed in God. Right?”
    Francine’s pulse fluttered rapidly, like the wings of a hummingbird as it hovers near a feeder. “Yes, I’ve always believed in him.”
    “Then…what changed about your beliefs when I was in high school?”
    Francine had longed for this moment, but now that it had come, she feared she wouldn’t be able to find the right words. The Bible said to always be ready to explain her Christian hope, but she felt anything but ready. What if she said the wrong thing? What if she made matters worse? She and her daughter had been estranged for so long. What if she couldn’t…
    No one can come to me, unless the Father who sent me draws him.
    Francine felt herself grow calm. It wasn’t her job to convince, arm-twist, or out-debate. She was simply supposed to be ready and willing to explain her hope. Hers and hers alone.
    * * *
    It was the pinnacle of insanity to ask her mother such a question. Angie couldn’t imagine what possessed her to do it.
    No. That wasn’t true. She did know. Ever since that night on the porch, more than a week ago, when she’d remembered the line from that old movie, those same words had continued to repeat in her head: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”
    Worse still, her own subsequent question had repeated as well: What other gods have you put before him?
    She tried to ignore the voice, those words, but they persisted all the same.
    Perhaps if she were in her own environment, in her own place, she could have sorted it through, could have figured out why this seemed to trouble her so. But here in Hart’s Crossing, in her mother’s home, with people coming and going all the time, laughing and joking and sharing memories, bringing gifts and trays of food…
    Well, it was hard to think, that’s all.
    “Angie,” her mother said softly, ending the lengthy silence, “I believed in God always. From the time I was a child, I believed. But I somehow missed the part about him believing in me.”
    Angie looked at her mother. “I don’t know what that means.”
    “I didn’t either until I started reading my Bible. That’s when God’s truths began to open up to me. That’s when I began to realize God wanted to be personal in my life. He wasn’t way up in heaven, watching me muddle through. He was with me, and he spoke to me every day as I read from his Word.”
    “Every religion has its own book, Mom.”
    “Christianity is much more than a religion, darling, although even many who call themselves Christians fail to understand that. I did for many years.” She shook her head slowly. “And the Bible is much more than a mere book. It’s holy because it was written by a living God. It has the power to change people, the same way it changed me.” She spoke in a quiet voice, and the strength of her belief was almost hypnotic.
    Angie resisted, saying, “It’s just a book written by a bunch of men thousands of years ago.”
    “Is it?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Angie, you’ve been a journalist for many years. You deal in facts. You know how to dig for truth. Why don’t you investigate to see if what I say is true? God isn’t afraid of our reasoning, and he isn’t surprised by our questions or our doubts. He gave you your intellect. So why don’t you use it?”
    That was a challenge Angie hadn’t expected her mother to make, and her reply was even more unexpected. “Maybe I will.”

    Chapter 10

    “SHOO!” TILL HART CROSSED her wiry, age-wrinkled arms over her chest and