Short Stories

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Forgiveness
By
Ray Shader

He awakens on the floor of his “home”. The dirt feels cool against his face and he takes stock of the situation. His thigh is throbbing from the gunshot wound. It just grazed the leg and bled like mad. It wasn’t serious but it felt like someone had hit him with an axe handle. The rest of his body was one dull ache from the beatings he had taken. They weren’t trying to kill him, just trying to find out if he was with the CIA or what. Through the pain he was able to laugh at that one. Before he became a believer he had probably been involved in most any wrong imaginable.
He had opened his heart to the Lord only a year ago but the experience had been unbelievable. The Father had filled him with a fire to spread the word and he had to bug, cajole, and harass everyone involved in this mission so he could come. Even so, he had to threaten to buy his own ticket and show up on his own, as he had put it, with no adult supervision.
He enjoyed the work. The people he was helping for the most part were poor but honest farmers trying to eke out a living in a war torn land. They were good people and had been receptive to the message of hope that the Lord had given him to tell. What was left from their crops after soldiers took their “rations” was barely enough to keep them alive till the next harvest. He was giving them basic medical attention and what food they could get shipped from the states and wasn’t hijacked.
Then came the day, a doctor, a nurse and he was headed to a family farther out. The farmer’s wife was in labor and was having a bad time of it. They had a couple of soldiers as an escort but the fire fight that happened was way beyond them. He had been the only one to survive.
He didn’t know how long they held him. He had been blindfolded with his hands tied behind him from the moment he was taken. They would come in and beat and question him for hours, give him a little food and water and he would collapse into sleep for however long until the next interrogation.
He had tried to rub the blindfold off at one point and had received a knock in the head that brought stars so he knew there was a guard in the room with him. At these moments when he was awake and not being questioned he would get himself to his knees and pray. As he did he would feel the comforting hand of his Lord on him and it would get him through. The only one he had left in the world was his Father, Abba, and he found the strength and hope there that he needed. He knew he was being watched as he prayed and he also knew the people who had him were no lovers of Christianity. It didn’t matter, his life was in God’s hands as it had been forever but he had only realized a year ago.
He was still amazed at the way the Lord had offered him his salvation. He didn’t know at the time why he had gone to church that day. Church and him had always been like oil and water and his opinion of Christians was very low. He had been drawn there though and had realized later that it was his Father that had drawn him. His life since then had been more abundant than he had realized possible. Love had taken the place of the hatred and anger that had covered his heart. He had lost his job, his home and a relationship with a woman he was very much in love with because of the change in him. He realized he would have gladly exchanged infinitely more to live in the light of his Lord. Christ had shown him he could love people where they were at, believers and non-believers alike. He had a special place in his heart for Christians having a hard time in their walk and non-believers because of the message of hope Christ had given him. He had realized that once he had dropped his expectation for people to be a certain way and put his faith in the Lord instead of others, his capacity to love was infinite.
As he prayed, he knew that whatever happened he loved Christ.
When he had finished he laid himself on the dirt floor and was going to try and sleep when his guard asked, “Do you think your God will make you safe?”. After all the silence, except for the interrogations, the question surprised him and he didn’t answer for a second. When he did, he told the guard, “I am already saved. I pray that I will have the strength to give glory to my Lord in whatever happens.”
Another voice said “Christians are rounding us up and killing our families and you call that glory?”.
He knew the atrocities of which his guard had spoken and was appalled that anyone that called themselves a Christian could be a part of such acts.
He told them, “They don’t truly understand the Lord’s commandments.”
The first guard asked, “What is your Lord’s commandments, to judge us?”
“No,” he replied, “Christ tells us to love the Lord before all others and to love our neighbors as we do ourselves.”
The second guard added, “Only if the neighbor is a Christian though.”
He explained to them, “You are my neighbors.”
The second guard asked, “So you tell me, you love me?”
It had happened many times already in the past year, the Spirit welled up inside and the only thing he needed was the courage to open his mouth and speak. He knew if it was up to him he wouldn’t be able to speak of the Lord properly but when the Spirit brought forth the words he knew people would listen.
Kneeling, bound and blindfolded he became the teacher. He spoke of his Lord’s love, compassion, mercy and grace. The Spirit brought forth the words to tell how the Lord has forgiven us and his offer of salvation that we only need to accept. As he spoke he could feel their anger decrease and he could feel Christ’s love pour over them all.
When he finished it was quiet for a moment and then the door crashed open. He could hear the voice of his interrogator but didn’t understand the language well enough. He could tell that they were leaving and leaving quickly.
He heard footsteps come to him and the barrel of a gun was pressed to his temple. The interrogator asked if there was anything else he wanted to tell them. His Father had asked him to come here and He had also told him he wouldn’t be coming home. The words that came through him were spoken almost 2000 years earlier, “Father forgive them.”
The nurse looked up from the supplies to see two men approaching the relief station. As they neared she could tell they were fighters but were unarmed. When they got to her one held out his hand and said, “We need to return this.”
In his open hand she recognized the cross the eager, headstrong missionary wore. Sadness crept over her heart. The bodies of the doctor, nurse and the guards were recovered weeks earlier and up until then there was still hope for their zealot.
She asked, “Is he…?”
The first man said, “He died well.”
She expected them to turn and leave, but they stood looking a little lost for a moment before the first one asked “Could you tell us about this man?”
She replied, “Well I hadn’t gotten to know John well, but…”
The second man interrupted and explained, “No, we know John and he was a good man. We want to know about the man on that cross.”
She truly looked at them and realized that in dress and stature they were fighters but she could see the questions and wonder she remembered seeing on John’s face.
She beckoned them to sit in the shade of the tent, got them each a cup of coffee, and retrieved her Bible.

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