Page 60
Tate shrugged. “I don’t know what to look for in Montana.” Wow, that was another comment that could be loaded any which way. “In Chicago, I live by weather apps telling me what’s coming.”
“In Kansas, too?”
“Gilead’s a small town, though bigger than Jewel Lake. And yeah, there you can see the weather coming across the plains.”
“Tell me about being part of a passion play. Was it fun?”
Had it been? Tate thought through his experiences of the winter months. “It was more enjoyable than I expected, to be honest. I made some new friends, guys with whom I hope to keep in touch.”
She glanced toward him as their horses headed into an open field.
“Funny story there.” Tate chuckled. “The guy who played Jesus wasn’t even a Christian at the beginning. Connor Hamelin.”
Was he imagining Stephanie’s frown?
“He turned out to be a really good actor, and in the course of studying his character, he became a believer. It was so cool.”
“Connor Hamelin?”
“Yeah.” Tate glanced at Stephanie. “He has connections to Jewel Lake, so maybe I’ll see him sometime when he comes to visit his son.”
“His son. Gavin Santoro.”
Tate blinked. “Right. You know him?”
“I know Gavin’s parents, Dafne and Blake. I heard that Gavin’s bio dad showed up out of the blue a few months ago, just when Blake was trying to adopt Gavin. And because the guy refused to sign the papers, Blake can’t adopt his wife’s son.”
Oh, boy. Tate should have thought this topic through. “That’s one way to look at it. The other side is that Connor thought he had no chance of getting to know his son. He did a ton of soul searching and praying about the best thing to do in the circumstances that faced him.”
Stephanie harrumphed.
“Everyone deserves a second chance, sweetheart. Especially when they truly repent and want God to lead them. Connor’s story is an amazing tale of God loving a man until he’s ready to be redeemed.”
“Maybe God’s so busy chasing down the one lost sheep that He forgets to take care of the ninety-nine already in His possession.”
Tate bit his lip and sent a silent prayer heavenward. What was the right thing to do, to say? He knew Stephanie had struggled with being the unseen good girl. She’d told him that much.
“It’s like the prodigal son parable,” she went on. “It’s great. I applaud God for welcoming the needy back into His fold. But I’m kind of with the older brother in that story. He’d been faithful. He’d done all the right things. He’d taken care of his father’s business and hadn’t asked much for himself. And his rebellious, partying brother simply had to show up and look pathetic, and dear old dad threw a big celebration for him.”
Oh, boy. Landmine ahead. “If we look at that story from a purely human standpoint, that’s what we get, all right.”
“Exactly.” Stephanie’s lips were set in a firm, thin line.
“But God is so much bigger than earthly fathers. He’s not bound by time and space the way we are. You know my dad’s had his share of struggles. I know you’ve said the same about yours.” Tate had observed some of those himself. “Neither of them would likely act like the father in this parable.”
“The father isn’t the point. It’s how he doesn’t treat his sons fairly.”
“The father is the point, because the story is about God’s crazy love for the humans He created. It’s big enough, wide enough — wild enough —to welcome back the prodigal and to comfort the brother.”
“Sometimes the brother doesn’t feel very comforted.”
Lord, give me words. “Feelings are fleeting, sweetheart, but God’s love? That’s something solid. Foundational. We can absolutely count on it remaining the same.”
Stephanie shot him a glare and urged Mirage into a trot.
Tate closed his eyes and shook his head. Sometimes it seemed it didn’t matter what he said, she looked at it through her own lens.
Of course, what other lens did she have?
Table of Contents
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