Ransom

“He must have been very frightened to do something like that.” It was an interesting thought, and she nodded. She had never thought of it that way. But Allan was afraid. And had opted out.

“I think he was. I'm frightened now,” she said honestly, and then started to cry. “I'm so afraid they'll kill my son.” She couldn't stop crying now.

“Do you think you can trust God?” he asked her gently, and she looked at him for a long time.

“I'm not sure. How could He let this happen, and let my husband die? What if my son is killed?” she said as she choked on a sob.

“Maybe you can try to trust Him, and trust these people here to help you and bring him back. Wherever your son is right now, he's in God's hands. God knows where he is, Fernanda. That's all you need to know. All you can do. Leave him in God's hands.” And then he said something so strange to her that she had no idea what to say in response. “We're all given terrible trials sometimes, things that we think will break our spirit and kill us, and they make us stronger in the end. They seem like the cruelest blows, but in a funny way they're like compliments from God. I know that must sound crazy to you, but that's what they are. If He didn't love you and believe in you, He wouldn't give you challenges like this. They're opportunities for grace. You'll be stronger from this. I know it. This is God's way of telling you that He loves you and believes in you. It's a compliment from Him to you. Does that make any sense?”

She looked at the young priest with a wistful smile and shook her head. “No.” She didn't want it to make sense. “I don't want compliments like this. Or my hus-band's death. I needed him. I still do.”

“We never want challenges like this, Fernanda. No one does. Look at Christ on the cross. Think of the challenge that must have been for Him. The agony of betrayal by people He had trusted, and death. And afterward came the resurrection. He proved that no challenge, no matter how great, could end His love for us. In fact, He loves us more. And He loves you too.” They sat quietly for a long moment then, and in spite of what seemed to her like the insanity of what he was saying about the kidnapping being a compliment from God, she felt better, and she wasn't even sure why. Somehow the young priest's presence had calmed her. He got up after a while, and she thanked him. He gently touched her head before he left, and said a blessing over her, which comforted her somehow. “I'm going to pray for you and Sam. I'd like to meet him one day.” Father Wallis smiled at her.

“I hope you will.” He nodded, and left her then. He didn't look anything like a priest, and yet in a strange way she liked what he had said. She sat alone in her room for a long time after that, and then went downstairs to find Ted. He was in the living room, on his cell phone, and he ended the call when she walked into the room. He'd been talking to Rick, just to pass the time. There was no news.

“How was it?”

“I'm not sure. He was either terrific, or nuts. I'm not sure which,” she said, and smiled.

“Probably both. But he helped me a lot when a friend of mine died, and I just couldn't make sense of it. The guy had six kids, and his wife was pregnant with another one. He was killed by a homeless man who stabbed him for no reason, and just left him there to die. No act of bravery, no hero's death. Just a lunatic and a knife. The homeless guy was nuts. They had let him out of the state mental hospital the day before. It just didn't make sense. It never does.” The killing of the four men in her kitchen and the kidnapping of her son didn't make sense either. Some things just didn't.

“He said this is a compliment from God,” she shared with Ted.

“I'm not sure I agree with him. That does sound nuts. Maybe I should have called someone else.” Ted looked sheepish.

“No. I liked him. I'd like to see him again. Maybe after this is over. I don't know. I think he helped.”

“That's how I always felt about him. He's a very holy person. He never seems to waver from what he believes. I wish I could say as much for myself,” Ted said quietly, and she smiled. She looked more peaceful. It had done her good talking to the priest, however odd his words.

“I haven't been to church since Allan died. Maybe I was mad at God.”

“You have a right to be,” Ted said.

“Maybe I don't. He said this is an opportunity for grace.”

“I guess all hard things are. I just wish we got fewer opportunities for grace,” Ted said honestly. He had had his share too, though none as bad as this.

“Yes,” she said softly. “So do I.”