Hosea's Bride. Dorothy Clark
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“Father God, You know my heart. You know my hunger and desire for a woman to love and share my life with. And You know, also, that I would rather be lonely all of my days than make the wrong choice. I choose not to trust in my own feelings, or rely on my own understanding. Therefore, Father, once again, I come to Your throne of grace and say, choose Thou for me. Have Your way, Father. Make Your will known to me, in this, as in all things, that I might obey. And, Father, as her pastor, I ask for Your wisdom and guidance in helping Angela Warren. Her distress is obvious. And if it is rooted in her past as I suspect—if that’s the real reason she’s been avoiding me—please help her to know she can trust me. I ask it in the precious name of Your Son, Jesus, my Lord and Savior.”
There. The first, most important, step in the resolution of his dilemma had been taken—he had placed it in the Lord’s hands. Now, all he had to do was stay yielded to God’s will. Not always an easy thing to do. But, God’s grace was sufficient.
Hosea folded the list of scriptures, tucked it into his Bible, and glanced at his watch. One o’clock—so back home it would be eleven. Good! His parents never went to bed before watching the evening news. He grabbed the phone’s handset, punched a memory button and leaned back.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hosea!” He could hear the happy smile in her voice. “You don’t usually call this late.” The smile faded away. “Is there something wrong, honey?”
“No. I just wanted to talk.” He took a deep breath. “Mom? Do you remember that young prostitute I told you about when I first started preaching?”
“The one at the Crossroads church? The one that was born again?”
“That’s the one. She’s here. She’s an active member of my new church.”
“You’re kidding! That’s wonderful, Hosea! I’m so pleased she’s still walking with the Lord.” Her laughter danced out of the receiver into his ear. “But how astonishing that the two of you ended up in the same church halfway across the country! It’s almost as if—”
Hosea smiled. She’d got it. There was nothing slow about his mom when it came to the things of the Lord or her children.
“So that’s why you called.”
“Yes. I’m thinking it’s pretty incredible to be a coincidence. And I’ve never felt this way about anyone. She’s wonderful. But there is a problem. I think she’s still troubled over her past. I need you and Dad to pray about this with me, Mom. I don’t want to make a mistake. I need ‘ears to hear.”’
Chapter Four
What a gorgeous September day! Angela opened the sunroof, lowered the windows, and, on a sudden, strong impulse, turned onto Hillman Boulevard. It would take her a few blocks out of her way, but the drive along the river with the tree-covered hills beyond would be worth it. She had earned a little relaxation.
She glanced over at her purse and smiled. Combined with what she had already saved, the sizable pay she had received from the Jones-Thomas Manufacturing Firm for her research report would enable her to take that European vacation she’d been promising herself. And the large bonus check they had given her for finishing before the deadline would take care of new clothes.
Angela’s smile widened. She could get that lovely, burgundy silk pantsuit she had been admiring, and that delicious sage-green dress with the flowing skirt as well. Pleased at the prospect, she braked at the red light, flicked on her directional signal and followed a blue car, overflowing with children, onto Riverside Parkway. The trunk lid of the car was strapped down over piled-up coolers, lawn chairs and a small rubber raft.
Looks like someone’s going on a last picnic before school starts. Angela smiled. What a lovely idea. She glanced toward the river. She hadn’t anyone to picnic with, but a walk along the path would be nice. And she had time… Why not? She laughed, pulled into a parking spot and climbed from the car.
A bird in the branches above her chirped loudly, swooped down out of the tree and flew straight at her head. She let out a startled squeal and ducked, then laughed and turned to watch the bird fly away toward the river. It flew directly over a young woman sitting on a park bench a short distance away. The teenager looked dejected—and familiar. One of the teen group at church?
Angela pulled off her sunglasses for a better view. It was Cathy Anders. She started over the grass toward the girl. “Cathy?”
The teenager glanced over her shoulder. Her hands lifted and wiped across her cheeks.
“Cathy, what’s wrong?” Angela skimmed an anxious gaze over the girl as she drew near. “Are you hurt?”
“N-no.”
Tears shimmered in the girl’s eyes. Angela sat down on the bench beside her and reached for her hand. “Well, there’s something wrong, Cathy. Why don’t you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help.”
The girl shook her head and looked down at her lap. “No one can help.”
All sorts of dire circumstances flashed through Angela’s mind. She took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer for guidance. “I’d like to try, Cathy—if you’ll let me.”
“Oh, Miss Warren!” The teenager broke into sobs and threw herself into Angela’s arms. “My dad found the money I’d saved for college and he took it. My bus ticket, too. He cashed it in and went to Charlie’s. Now I can’t get there for registration and they’re going to give my scholarship to someone else.”
“Charlie’s? You mean the tavern where they have off-track betting?” The girl’s hair brushed against Angela’s cheek as she nodded. “Oh, Cathy, I’m so sorry.” She tightened her arms around the weeping girl. “Surely, there’s something—” Cathy’s forehead rolled back and forth against her shoulder.
“No. I called. They need my share of the money by four o’clock today or I lose the scholarship.” Cathy took a long, shuddering breath and straightened. “It’s no use talking about it, Miss Warren. I don’t have the money now. And I can’t get there before registration. I can’t get there at all without my ticket.” She swiped at her streaming eyes with a balled-up tissue in her hand. “Even if I had the money, if I don’t register they will close me out of my classes.”
Angela took a deep breath to calm a sudden surge of anger. “Let me understand, Cathy. You say your father found your money. Were you hiding it from him?”
Shame washed over the teenager’s face. She nodded and looked away. “I had a savings account where I banked whatever I could save from my pay after I bought food and stuff. But I had to withdraw the money yesterday so I could buy my ticket and be ready to leave early this morning. I hid it in the bag of books I’m…was…taking with me, and he found it.”
Fresh tears flowed down Cathy’s cheeks. “I know that must sound strange and awful to you, Miss Warren, but—” She glanced at Angela, then looked back down at the wadded tissue in her hands. “But I have to do those things. My dad’s a gambler and…and an alcoholic.”
“I see.” The anger in Angela turned to fury at the pain she saw in the girl’s eyes. The anguish of living with an addicted parent wasn’t strange to her at all. She knew, far too well, the pain and humiliation Cathy was suffering.
“It’s not like you think, Miss Warren.” Cathy’s back straightened, her chin lifted. “My dad would never have taken my money if it wasn’t for the alcohol. That’s why I wanted to go to college. I wanted to do medical research.” Tears spilled from her eyes again. “Maybe I could have found a way to help people like my dad.”
Angela’s eyes filled. Her heart ached for Cathy. The denial, and the vehement protection of the parent were all too familiar to her, too. The same insidious emotions had ensnared her until her dreams were dead and her life destroyed. Well, it was too late for her, but it would not happen