Part 36 (2/2)

”We're losing his pulse, and we need a ..

327 The words faded. His eyes closed again. Suddenly Tim's thinking was clearer than ever before, his sorrow clearer still. The truth was, it was all over. He would never see his Kari again, never hold her in his arms and beg her forgiveness for dying this way, never feel the weight of his newborn child against his shoulder.

The consequences from his year away from G.o.d had, in the end, cost him everything.

He pictured Kari and their baby and knew somehow that she was right. The child was a girl. A sweet girl who would go through life without her daddy. But oddly enough, along with the sadness, words kept drifting through his mind like gentle winds. Words he had memorized as a child, words he had found written in the front of his Bible that first day he came back home to Kari.

”'Fear not,”' Pastor Mark had quoted, ”'for I have redeemed you ... I have summoned you by name ... you are mine.”' Redemption. That was the word that kept coming up, time and time and time again. For so long he hadn't wanted to believe it, hadn't thought it possible. But now he knew with absolute certainty the truth of what Kari had showed him, what the Lord now whispered in his soul.

Fear not.

The Lord was a G.o.d of redemption for anyone who repented and turned to him. And Tim had repented to the depths of his fading soul.

I have summoned you by name. Yes, Lord.

As his heartbeat slowed, as he drew his last breaths, Tim was overwhelmed with a sense of deep sorrow, deep regret for all he had allowed himself to be, for all the times he'd chosen to go his own way instead of following the Lord. And yet even at the heart of his sorrow, he could feel a pinpoint of light begin to open. A spreading knowledge of a love and peace that were deeper and more infinite than anything he'd ever known.

328 You are mine. Fear not. I'm sorry, Lord.

... for I have redeemed you. Yes, Lord.

You are mine.

As he moved away from all he'd known in this life, his sorrow combined with the deeper peace and love-love that would guide him into his Father's arms.

His last thoughts were both simple and profound. He was grateful beyond words that he wasn't going to spend eternity in h.e.l.l.

Because the year he'd already spent there was long enough.

329.

Kari WAS ALREADY SICK to her stomach with worry by the time her father called.

Tim had been gone nearly three hours to do what should have taken forty minutes at the most. The possibilities screaming through their silent house were so loud she could barely concentrate.

She answered the phone on the first ring. ”Tim?”

”Kari, honey, it's me. Dad.” Her father's voice was tired, tinged with sorrow and grief and a fear that Kari had never heard before. Not even years ago when her mother was sick.

”Tim's late.” Kari's heart pounded in her throat, and her words sounded forced, robotic. ”He should be home by now.” ”Tim's in the hospital, sweetheart. There was an accident.” ”What?” She squeezed her eyes shut, her knees shaking from the rush of terror within her. Please, G.o.d, no!

”Is ... is he okay?”

”We have to get to the hospital.” His tone was still fearful. ”I'll pick you up, honey.”

”What about Mom?”

”She's at church. Sometimes her Bible study goes late. I'll 330 leave her a note to meet us at the hospital.” He hesitated. ”I'm on my way.”

When she hung up the phone, Kari was sure her father knew more than he was saying, but she was too afraid to ask questions. Instead, they rattled about in her head. What has happened to Tim? Was the accident near the university? Did someone run a red light, or was his the only car?

She was waiting outside the house, bundled in a jacket that didn't quite cover her belly and s.h.i.+vering madly, when her father pulled up. On the drive to the hospital she wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and struggled to find her voice. Her teeth clattered as she spoke. ”How come ... they called you?”

Her father kept his eyes on the icy road. ”The paramedics knew he was my son-in-law. They thought it'd be better if I called you.”

They were silent the rest of the way. When they walked into the hospital, one of her father's friends, an emergency-room doctor, quickly ushered them into a private room. He stood opposite them and directed them to take seats.

Kari wanted to shout at the man. Tell me what happened. Don't make me sit down.

I want to see my husband. Instead, she meekly followed his directions, as if her body were listening to what her mind refused to acknowledge.

Her father spoke first. ”I told Kari there was an accident. That's all she knows.”

”Right.” The graying doctor across from them had a kind face, but his expression was gravely serious. When he spoke, there was no urgency whatsoever. ”I'm afraid I don't have very good news.”

That's when Kari knew something was terribly wrong. Something much worse than she'd originally thought.

”Where is he?” she demanded. ”I don't care about the details. I just need to”

”Kari.” The doctor took her hands and fixed his eyes on hers, willing her to listen. ”Your husband was shot.”

The room began to spin. Breathing and speaking were out of 331 the question. Her father slipped an arm around her shoulders and whispered, ”Kari, hang on now....”

The rus.h.i.+ng sound echoing through Kari's head made it almost impossible to concentrate. She tried desperately to understand what the doctor was saying, but she caught only bits and pieces. Something about three bullets. Considerable bleeding. Paramedics doing everything they could.

But no matter how hard she tried to hear, the man's words blended together-all except his final words, which stood out in sudden, horrific clarity.

”He didn't make it, Kari. I'm sorry.”

”No!” She pulled her hands from the doctor's and laid them across her swollen abdomen, refusing to understand. It wasn't possible. ”No! Tim's at the office.

He had some papers.... You have the wrong man.”

Her father tightened his grip on her while he questioned the doctor. ”The shooting was on campus?”

Even in her desperate condition she could see the doctor's expression change.

”He was shot outside an apartment complex ... just off campus.”

At that moment a contraction tore across Kari's middle, and she doubled over in pain. No ... please, G.o.d, no!

Her words dissolved into a series of anguished moans that rolled over her again and again until she no longer recognized her voice. Her father threw strong arms around her and held her tightly-she didn't know exactly how long-until she was calm again. And then came the questions, the agonizing questions she didn't want to think of but still needed answers for.

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