"More Than her Past"

Dear Friends, over the years, you may have learned that I enjoy leading us on a journey of mercy that makes our judgmental souls uncomfortable. Some authors shock readers with graphic sex or violence. Maybe it’s the preacher in me, but I sometimes rather shock us with the truth about ourselves.

The ELM Series of novels are no exception when it comes to expressions of mercy. Horrible bad guys (antagonists), who we love to hate, are slowly impacted by honorable good guys (protagonists). In time, the bad guys may soften and repent. Our souls are conflicted about this, but only because our self-righteousness plays tug-of-war against the mercy and forgiveness we know all people are offered, though don’t deserve, through the sufficient sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

Below is a story worthy of some discussion regarding justice and forgiveness. Where do we stand? ~David Telbat

MORE THAN HER PAST

D.I. Telbat

Cal Bonder poured spaghetti noodles into a strainer as his famous tomato sauce simmered on the stove.

“Almost finished,” he announced to Sylvie, his wife of 20 years.

But she wasn’t listening. She had earbuds in her ears, and whether she realized it or not, she was swaying to the music. Cal sighed and wiped his hands on a towel, then sat beside her at the dining table.

Sylvie smiled and plucked out one earbud.

“Smells good. Just a touch of oregano this time?”

Cal winced through a nod. He’d used too much seasoning last month.

“Is that her?” He gestured at her ear.

“Her who?”

“You know, the killer. The spouse murderer.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Sylvie’s face softened toward him, making him regret his words, even though they both knew it was true.

“But she’s the music artist they just revealed is in prison, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, so? She records her music in her prison’s sound station or something.”

“But I thought when we found out who she really was, we were done listening to her.”

“Maybe you are.” Sylvie gently placed her hand over his. “Her songs speak to me about Jesus being our Shepherd, Cal, no matter where we are in life.”

“And we know where she is, don’t we?”

“She came to the cross twenty years ago, sweetie. She’s a believer now. Yes, what she did was wrong. I know that. And she knows that.”

“She killed her husband. Uh, yeah, sort of a big no-no.”

“What she did and who Christ later made her to become are two different things, aren’t they?”

“Hon . . .” Cal fought for the right words. “She murdered . . . her husband.”

“And? Can’t she be more than a killer in God’s eyes?” Sylvie tilted her head. “Can’t she be more than a murderer in our eyes?”

“That’s . . . a tough thing to overlook.”

“We don’t have to overlook it. Charlene Mounty doesn’t overlook it. She says that where she came from, who she was, shows God’s might and His compassion. He stooped low and saved her, so there mustn’t be anyone He’s unable to give new life to.”

“Even a murderer.”

“You’ve heard her songs, how she sings about the other women around her who have also found Christ. She’s a voice for them. God has rescued them from hell, even though they’re still in physical prison.”

“That’s not good advertising for coming to Christ, you know. Come to Jesus and stay in prison?”

“There’s great value in her words of having lived through her chaos. Jesus is the One who lived perfectly for us. I’m not perfect either, you know.”

“We can argue about that another time.” He chuckled. “But let’s stick to Charlene Mounty. Her reputation is out. Everyone knows she took a life. How does anyone get beyond that? How do you get beyond that?”

“The same way I get beyond my own sins—which Jesus died for, the same as hers. I surrender in desperation and trust God to rescue me from the guilt of my transgressions. Last time I checked, there isn’t a checklist at the foot of the cross that says some sins aren’t covered there.”

“I’m not saying God can’t forgive her. I’m just saying I think she’s disqualified from speaking for God to us. She’s a bad example for our lives.”

“Because of where she lives? Yeah, she lives out her repentant life now in a state facility. She’s paying her debt to society, but she’s spiritually set free.” Sylvie shrugged. “I know a lot of people at our own church who live in their own homes, but don’t live lives of repentance like Charlene Mounty does.”

“Well, I’m still not sure God can use her like this.”

“Too late.” She tapped him on the nose. “He already has.”

“You’re not being fair,” Cal said, but only because he couldn’t say anything else.

“How about we be fair,” Sylvie said, “to Charlene and to God? She’s shown what God can do with someone who was once a murderer. She’s not the same woman anymore. Now, she’s like us: still imperfect, but forgiven. She’s righteous before God.”

“Well . . .” Cal sighed. “Maybe, somehow, God can . . . start over with people.”

“And?”

“Okay, maybe we can give her a chance. Maybe I can . . . give her a chance, even knowing what we know about her past.”

“It’s her past that brought her to this point—to come from it and give us these songs. Scars and all, God accepts a repentant believer, right? He accepted you, Cal.”

“No argument there, hon.” Cal bowed his head. “No argument there.”

The End.

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COMING UP: Join us next time for David’s Author Reflection, “What I’ve been Reading Lately.”

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