Miss Katie's Rosewood (8 page)

Of course God was his Father!

If he, weak sinner that he knew himself to be, could find mercy to forgive in
his
heart, how much
more
mercy must exist in God's infinite heart? Was it possible that he could be more merciful than God?

The answer was obvious—no.

God must be
more
merciful and forgiving than any man or woman could even imagine!

For the first time he grasped what God had been trying to tell him that day beside the stream, and more recently in the alley where he had prayed for forgiveness. There could be no artificial theological divisions within humanity.
All
humanity is God's. He is calling His wayward prodigal children home,
to the home of His heart, where all will one day call Him Father.

It was such a simple yet powerful truth. How could it have taken him so long to see it? God's desire was not to punish but to heal, not to condemn but to restore, not to banish but to reconcile, not to torment but to burn clean.

Only a few seconds had passed. But they were seconds that would change Robert's outlook forever. For he did not merely see into the soul of Damon Teague, he had been given a glimpse into the Father heart of God himself. His prayer to be shown who God truly was had been gloriously answered—God was an infinitely forgiving and merciful Father!

Teague was still looking at him with a fierce expression of hatred.

“Get out of here!” he repeated angrily. “I didn't ask for you to come.”

It was all Robert could do to contain what was bursting within him. His heart overflowed with an intense almost physical joy to realize that he had at last truly forgiven the man. A great burden had been lifted in the liberation of forgiveness!

He tried to smile.

“I'm sorry to cause you annoyance, Mr. Teague,” he said, a slight quiver in his voice the only betrayal of the emotions stirring inside him. “I only thought that maybe you would like to talk to someone . . . that you might want to make things right with God.”

“With God!” Teague spat back. “What would He want to have to do with me? Or me to do with Him for that matter?”

“Don't you care that He loves you?”

“Loves me . . . bah, that's nonsense! It's little enough He's ever done for me.”

“It's hardly nonsense, Mr. Teague—His love is the truth that holds the world together.”

“How has He ever loved me?”

“It's much that He has
tried
to do for you,” said Robert. His tone was completely unlike that of his previous exchange with Teague. Rather than lashing out in anger, his was now the voice of compassion, probing that which needed to be exposed to the light of truth.

“What are you talking about!” said Teague irritably. “Who prevented Him doing it?”

“You did, Mr. Teague. Look at what you've made of your life. Whose doing is it but your own?”

“Who asked you to come preach to me!”

“I thought you might want—”

“I want nothing from you! You're the reason I'm stuck in this hole!”

“You don't think it has more to do with what
you've
done?” asked Robert, his voice soft, almost tender.

“What I've done is none of your business!”

“Have you forgotten whom you murdered? If it's not my business, I don't know whose it is. God might also consider it
His
business.”

“Don't preach to me about God, I tell you!” Teague cried.

“You are going to have to face your sin sooner or later,” said Robert. “Considering the alternatives, it seems that it might be best to face it now.”

Teague leapt up, took two quick strides toward him, and shoved Robert back against the opposite wall with tremendous force.

“If you say one more word about God,” he shouted with menace, nearly spitting in Robert's face, “I will kill you too . . . I'll kill you with my bare hands. I've done it before. I've got nothing to lose. You'll be lying on this floor with a broken neck before the guard can even get his key in the lock.”

Robert held his gaze a moment. “You can try to intimidate me all you want,” he said. “You can push me, you can
try to frighten me. But I don't want to add anything more to your conscience which you will have to atone for one day. So I will comply with your wish and leave you. I have but one more thing to say to you, Mr. Teague. Whether you can understand it, I don't know, but I must tell you regardless. I forgive you. It has not been an easy thing to do, but I can honestly now say that I bear no ill-will toward you and wish you only the best.”

Teague laughed sarcastically. “The
best
?” he said. “Sure, kid!”

“I will continue to pray for you,” Robert went on undeterred. “You cannot stop me doing that—in hopes that you will one day discover the love God has for you. His love
is
truth, Mr. Teague.”

Behind them the hurried step of the guard, who had heard the ruckus, came running along the corridor. Quickly he opened the cell door.

“I will not force myself upon you again, Mr. Teague,” said Robert. “But I am at your service should you change your mind.”

A minute later, with a breaking heart and blinking back tears, he emerged back out into the light of the sunny Baltimore street.

Oh, God
, he said silently,
break through into that man's heart with hunger for you!

W
ITNESS

10

T
EAGUE'S OUTBURST SOBERED
R
OBERT
. B
UT IT DID
nothing to alter the profound change of heart that had taken place. His entire outlook on God's work within humanity was being transformed. He had come to realize that God the Father was the wooing, loving, and forgiving
Abba
of Jesus Christ, not the hell-threatening tyrant of the theology in which he had been so meticulously steeped since childhood. The explosion which had gone off in his heart in Teague's cell could be reduced to a simple truth which changed everything: Jesus Christ did not come to save humankind
from
God, He came to lead everyone
to
God.

The principles he had been familiar with for years now took on deeper and wider meaning. God's Fatherhood became near and real. The Savior was not one warding off arrows of wrath behind a shield called atonement. Rather He was an Elder Brother sent to take us home to the forgiving arms of our Father Creator. God's Fatherhood began to embrace him with its light and warmth.

In that light now blossomed a love for Damon Teague that entirely changed the way Robert thought of him. How effortless it was to fulfill his promise! The prayer was such a simple yet profound one:
May he come to know you as Father
as I have come to know you as Father
.

He only hoped there would be time left for Damon Teague to allow God to answer his prayer. In the meantime, Robert's Bible was alive with renewed depth of meaning. He read through his New Testament three times in less than two weeks, the Psalms once, astounded to see what he had never seen before—the totality and infinitude of God's loving grace. The Gospels, and especially the words of the Master, became newly precious and vibrant with meaning he had until now failed to perceive. Yet there it was in black and white.

How could he have never seen it all before!

God was a good and loving and forgiving
Father!
Jesus told us so!

Daily Robert prayed that somehow the Holy Spirit would work a miracle in Damon Teague's heart. Now more than ever he knew that the work was
God's
to do. He could force no door open. He could but be prepared when and if it was opened from the inside. As difficult as it was, he knew he must bide his time in patient prayer and readiness.

The scheduled day of Teague's hanging approached. The Baltimore papers were full of it. They had gotten wind of Robert's visit to Teague's cell and did everything possible to persuade Robert to make public what he and the condemned man had talked about. But Robert remained silent.

The day before Teague's execution, a messenger arrived at the Paxton home. He handed Robert an envelope with his name hastily scrawled on it.

Robert opened it. The handwritten message was brief:

He wants to see you
.

Heyes
.

Robert was on his horse and on his way within minutes.

When he walked into Damon Teague's cell this time he knew instantly that there had been a change.

Give me your words to speak, Lord Jesus
, he breathed
silently.
Put in my mouth only what you want him to hear
.

Teague still sat on the side of his bunk. Rather than an expression of anger and defiance, his face wore a look of defeat and sadness. For the first time Robert saw fear in his eyes. And with it also perhaps even remorse.

“I, uh . . . I'm ready to listen to whatever you have to say to me,” he said quietly, almost humbly.

“What about?” asked Robert.

“About God, I suppose,” said Teague. “They tell me tomorrow's the day I'm going to die.”

“Does the idea of death trouble you?”

“Wouldn't it frighten you to know you were going to die?”

“I don't know—I hope not. God is good. What can be frightening about going to meet Him?”

“I'm not sure I'm ready to meet Him,” laughed Teague bitterly. It was a laugh without humor. “I'm not looking forward to it.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean? Are you joking? Look at me . . . what I've done. There could hardly be a more suitable picture of a sinner than me. You know where they say sinners go.”

“Jesus said He came to call sinners.”

“Yeah, maybe so . . . but repentant sinners. I know how that stuff works. I've heard enough of your hellfire and brimstone. Don't forget—I've heard your own father preach. I know well enough that God's got no use for someone like me.”

“Don't be too sure.”

“You said before that you hoped I would discover God's love, or something like that. But how can I?
No one
could love me.”

“Again . . . don't be too sure.”

“You can't deny that I've been about as bad as they come.”

“No, I wouldn't deny it,” said Robert. “But God is the one who can make it all right.”

“Make what right?”

“Everything—what you've done, who you are . . . your sin. He's your Father. He can make it right.”

“How do you figure he's
my
Father?”

“Why wouldn't He be?”

“Because . . . like you say—my sin.”

“God is still your Father whether you acknowledge it or not.”

“I thought that was only for the saved.”

“He gave you life, didn't He? Where do you think life comes from? Who else could be your Father than the Creator of all life, along with your earthly father, of course.”

“Maybe so, but that hardly changes the fact that I've mocked Him all my life. What love could He have for me?”

“The love of an infinitely loving Father.”

“My father wasn't very loving, that's for sure.”

“Maybe he didn't know how to be. But God is the perfect Father.”

At last the force of the word
Father
seemed to penetrate his mind with a fleeting glimpse of the ideal and perfect rather than the broken human image. Teague sat thinking.

“Instead of dreading seeing Him tomorrow,” Robert went on after a moment, “you have the opportunity to look forward to it. It will be your chance to tell Him that you want to start recognizing Him as your Father, and to live for all eternity as His son.”

But Teague could not dislodge the terrifying image of hell from his brain.

“Not many preachers would agree with your assessment of my prospects!” said Teague with a cynical laugh. “They would say that by tomorrow night I'll be on the fast road to hell, and that God won't be anywhere within sight. They'll say that that's exactly what I deserve.”

“I won't argue that most would say that.” Robert nodded.

“I won't even argue that it's not what you deserve. I deserve it too.”

“So
will
God send me to hell? Am I going to be burning in torment in those flames by this time tomorrow?” The desperation in Teague's face pierced Robert's heart.

“I honestly don't know,” replied Robert seriously. “But if He does, it will be because He loves you, not because He condemns you. Even in hell, He will still love you.”

“Not much good it will do me then!” laughed Teague with bitter hopelessness. “It hardly seems like what you can call love if He just sits by and watches people burn forever. Like I said, I'm not saying I don't deserve it. Just don't call it love when that's the
last
thing it is. That's what I always hated about religious people—saying things that make no sense—talking about God's love and sending people to hell in the same breath.”