"And you remind me of my wife, the funniest and prettiest girl in the world." Josh winked at her, and she blushed. He loved her lack of self-absorption. "I'm glad you're feeling up to this today."

She took his hand in hers. "Me too."

They walked from the shadow of the tall oak grove into the sunlight.

Sometimes it was easy to see where life was heading. At other times, the path disappeared behind a wall of doubt. Perhaps it was good to be reminded occasionally that this life will one day end, because Josh didn't want to fail to fully enjoy the present. His wife could be taken from him at any moment, and he was determined to enjoy every minute he had with her.

He tried to wipe the negatives from his mind and think about tomorrow's plans to announce Beth's pregnancy to their church family. In a few weeks, they would be celebrating the end of her first trimester. A good sign, the doctor had said, that the baby was tolerating the morphine. No doubt, good things were intermingled with the bad.

"It's all good." Beth stopped and turned to him.

"How do you always manage to read my thoughts?"

"You're too quiet," she said, pushing a strand of chin length, dark brown hair behind her ear. "I know you. You're under a lot of stress." She paused to reflect on something in the distance. "Most of it's my fault, and I'm sorry for that," she said. "But there's not much I can do about it."

"It's not your-"

"Shhh." She put her fingers to his lips. "Let's forget about our problems and try to bring some peace to Danny and his family."

"I love you," Josh said. "Nothing could ever change that."

The church was crowded by the time they found the seat reserved for them up front, near the family. Beth slid to the inside of the bench so Josh would have access to the aisle.

"Good morning." A well-dressed, older woman greeted Beth as she settled in.

"Hi, I'm Bethany Harrison."

The woman stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Pamela Morris, a friend of Nell's."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Beth said. "I didn't know her, but her son works with my husband."

Pamela leaned forward to take a look at Josh. "You're a nice-looking couple."

Beth felt heat rise in her face. "Thank you."

"Do you have children?"

"Oh . . . no. Not yet. But we're expecting our first." She patted her tummy.

"How exciting, dear!" The woman's blue eyes sparkled, and then she teared up. "I'm sorry." She dabbed a tissue to her face. "I know Nell would have loved to meet you. She loved babies. I would expect she's doting over all of the little ones in Heaven right now."

"It's a shame she will never see her grandchildren," Beth said, nodding toward Danny, who was seated two rows in front of them.

"Her daughter Susan, Danny's sister, has two. But Nell would have loved to see Danny married with children."

"How did you know Mrs. Stevens?" Beth asked.

"We met through our volunteer work."

"That's nice," Beth said. She could visualize this beautiful, gray-haired woman looking dapper in a Red Cross smock or delivering food to the elderly. "What kind of volunteer work?"

"Abortion clinic." Tears welled again in Pamela Morris's eyes. "Nell and I worked together as street counselors. There are so many young women taken in by the lie that unborn babies are not viable human beings."

Beth swallowed hard to keep down her lunch. Dear God, what are you doing to me?

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Morris. I need to find the restroom."

"It's through that door and to the right. Are you okay, honey?"

"Just a bit of morning sickness still hanging around." Beth did her best to smile as she nudged Josh to let her by.

The funeral was inspirational and uplifting. A celebration of a life well lived. Josh wished he had known Danny's mother better. No doubt she had played a big role in honing the character of her son. Some of the stories that were related about Mrs. Stevens reminded Josh of his own mom, a woman full of humor as well as faith.

After they had gathered around the grave, Jim Stevens motioned for everyone to move in closer. He would be giving a personal and, most likely, tearful tribute to his wife.

"This is from Proverbs 31," he said and then cleared his throat, gathering his composure.

"Who can find a virtuous and capable wife?" He began. "She is worth more than precious rubies." He wiped a tear.

"Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life. Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her." His words came in bursts of emotion.

"Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last. But a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised." The Reverend Stevens looked up to the sky and smiled.

"Reward her, Lord, for all she has done. For all she has been. Let her deeds publicly declare her praise." He wiped his face again, pulled the rose from his lapel, and placed it gently on the casket.

"Amen."

A few minutes later, the smell of dirt filled Josh's nostrils. An involuntary twitch spread throughout his body, a shudder that could easily be attributed to the late autumn chill. But he knew better.

He had been here before, standing at a graveside while a broken and questioning man eulogized his wife. This time it was Jim Stevens. Almost two years ago it had been his own father, paying tribute to his wife of thirty-five years.

From all appearances, Danny's dad had managed to hold onto his convictions, to make peace with them, and to reconcile his spiritual beliefs with the untimely loss of his wife. But Josh's father had died in spirit the day he lost his wife.

Samuel Harrison had mustered the strength to see her through to the end. But after she passed away, his trust in God had been shoveled into a four-by-six-foot hole and covered with dust.

19.

Present Day Abuzz of activity surrounded Beth as she and Josh prepared to leave their Sunday school classroom. They had announced her pregnancy to the class this morning, and everyone wanted to offer congratulations.

Men slapped Josh on the back and shook his hand. "Good going, man!" Women gushed, giddy with excitement.

Sarah Gilmore grabbed Beth's neck and squealed. "You'll be the best mom!"

"I'm so happy for you, hon," Rachel Monroe drawled.

"Is this your first?" A new member of the class asked Beth.

She shook her head, almost indiscernibly.

"Oh, yes! Isn't it exciting?" Sarah replied on Beth's behalf and then added, "Congratulations, Josh. We're happy for you both."

Beth glanced sideways to her husband. His face reflected the enthusiasm of the well-wishers. He also seemed to be relaxing more now that he'd had a few days off the road. Beth knew that the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and she could do little to help.

"Are you okay, honey?" Josh grabbed her arm and walked her toward the sanctuary.

"I have a headache, but I'm okay."

"If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to stay for the service." His brown eyes entreated.

"I can handle it," she said halfheartedly, hoping he would pick up on her lack of excitement.

"Great!" Josh opened the door to the main worship area and, placing his hand on the small of her back, ushered her to their usual seat near the front of the large auditorium. They always sat three rows back, to the right of the pulpit, and in front of the piano. It was a habit Josh had formed as a child in his family church. His mom, the church pianist, would finish playing and then sit with her son while Josh's dad preached the sermon.

Beth scanned the room. Friends, acquaintances, and visitors streamed through the doors on each side of the pulpit platform. Their church was home to a growing fellowship. Young people, singles, married couples with children, recent retirees, and a considerable number of seniors made up the congregation. Gloryland Temple had something for everyone, including a Saturday evening service that catered to those with interest in learning about Messianic worship.

On the rare occasions when Josh was home on Saturdays, he and Beth would attend the Messianic service and then return for the regular worship the next morning. They had met Alex, not yet their neighbor at the time, at the Saturday evening service.

Alex had been born into a Jewish home and converted to Christianity in college, and she had taught Beth a lot about the traditional Jewish faith and lifestyle. They had baked challah, a sweet, braided egg bread; decorated Alex's house for Hanukkah; and stayed up all night studying the Old Testament on Shavuot.

Beth enjoyed the celebration of Christ through the old sanctities, but it was the old-fashioned, Sunday morning service that kept her centered on a Christian journey.

Despite the disparity in size-Gloryland Temple was much larger-something about it reminded Beth of her grandparent's small, country church in Southern Illinois. It was at their church she had made a childlike commitment to Christ when she was in junior high.

The choir doors opened, bringing Beth back to the present. Dozens of men and women dressed in flowing purple robes filed into the loft directly behind the pulpit. Josh reached for her hand, helping Beth to her feet. She leaned into his embrace during the opening prayer and Scripture reading. They sang two hymns before the congregation was seated.

Beth sat in awe while the choir performed a stirring rendition of "Amazing Grace." The lyrics washed over her with a sweetness that calmed her tired soul, even easing her headache. She found solace in the great, old hymns, and this was one of her favorites. She pulled a tissue from her handbag and wiped her eyes. How much better could the salvation experience be expressed?

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found Was blind, but now I see.

After the choral presentation, Pastor Brandon stepped up to the podium. His message today was on Christian living. "In Matthew 10:21, we are told that brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and father the child. When we look around our world today, we don't have to look far to see that Jesus was right." Pastor Brandon's eyes swept the room. "These things are prevalent, even in our own neighborhood.

"Perhaps the best-and worst-example is the abortion-on-demand thinking in our society." He paused and shook his head. "Mother turning against child. Does it get more hideous than that?"

A familiar rush of guilt swept through Beth. When the minister looked in her direction, she decided to take a bathroom break. Before she could excuse herself, Josh reached for her hand, placed it on his thigh, and covered it with his warm palm.

Feeling like a wanted poster tacked to the post office wall, Beth calculated mentally the bounty on her head. It was there for the taking by the first person to expose the truth about her life. Josh squeezed her hand. Her heart went out to him. Her near-perfect husband had no idea about the sin she struggled to put behind her.

During the closing song, he whispered in her ear. "Let's go forward to ask for prayer for your healing and the baby." His eyes glistened with moisture from the anointing of the service. She nodded, with no real reason to decline.

The minister gave the closing invitation, and Josh led her to the front of the auditorium, where they knelt in front of the massive acacia wood altar. It had been carved to represent the ancient Jewish Ark of the Covenant. Draped with a cloth of purple velvet, the great table was adorned with gold-colored candlesticks and a ceremonial, leather-bound Bible.

Josh whispered into Pastor Brandon's ear, and he smiled at Beth. After the final verse of "Just as I Am," the minister waved his hands in the air to quiet the congregation.

"Everyone, please be seated. We have a special request this morning." The pastor urged Josh and Beth to stand close to him. "Two of our special young people, Josh and Bethany Harrison, have asked for your prayers. Many of you know about Bethany's recent illness, but I am happy to also announce, for those of you who don't know, that Josh and Bethany are expecting their first child."

The congregation applauded, and the pastor clasped Josh and Beth's hands in his as a few of the elders gathered around.

"Please join me in prayer for the Harrisons and their unborn child."

During the prayer, many of the church membership murmured in the background.

"Yes, Jesus"

"Thank you, Lord."

In closing, Pastor Brandon proclaimed, "And everyone said . . ."

"Amen." The congregation recited in unison.

Within a few minutes, more than half of the four hundred or so in attendance surrounded Beth and Josh. Each person offered his or her best wishes, a hug, or a commitment to pray for her pregnancy.

"Children are not an accident," one elderly woman told her. "You have been truly blessed."

Beth rolled her weary body into a fetal position, curling up in the corner of the small, blue-tiled shower stall.

Liar. Deceiver. Who do you think you are? Forgiven? A good Christian? I don't think so. You're a fraud.

She rocked back and forth as the water poured down on her. Despite the powerful stream, no soap, no scrubbing, and no amount of convincing would make her feel presentable. It was impossible to clean the inside, the dirty part.

She had allowed herself to believe a lie for all of these years. Perhaps God could forgive her, but she would never forgive herself. The steaming hot liquid ran down her face, stinging with its accusations. God may love you, but he can't like you very much. How could he? You've lied to Josh since you met him.

No, I haven't.

Ah, but deceit is the same thing as lying. When he finds out what you've done, he will leave you. You might as well get it over now. Make plans for your future. Alone.

I'll tell him soon. He'll understand.

Even if he does, your baby will suffer for what you've done.

But that's not fair.

Not fair? Are you kidding? An eye for an eye.

I've already repented for that . . . many times over. God has forgiven me.

Why should God show you mercy? You put your own child to death. You must be punished. Baby killer.

Liar.