wide anymore, but wet. “Those words changed me. Even after every unforgivable thing I’ve done, Jesus still loves me? And he forgives me?” my eyes are wet, too. “But, I don’t expect you to forgive me, Matthew. I wanted to bring you the message of how Jesus set me free, how He used your little girl. I thought it would give you hope in your pain. But—”
“It has.” he says as a tear falls from his healthy eye. He steps forward and takes M from my arms. He looks at me for a moment more and then steps inside. The door closes…
Matthew Mills
Marcy is so heavy in my arms. She is no longer just my little girl, but the whole weight of this situation: the clarity of a much bigger plan, the sting of my own selfishness, and the reality that it was always meant to happen.
I’m exhausted. I’ve used all of my strength. Nothing remains. I fall to my knees, too tired to stand. I look down at my little girl. But, I’m too tired to cry, too tired to feel any of this. Her weight in my arms is so heavy, yet it comforts me completely. I can close my eyes now. I can fall asleep, knowing that she is right here.
John Doe
I saw hope in Matthew before he closed the door. I saw relief. He grabbed M like she was a weight he was ready to carry, like she was a reality he was ready to face. But, he also grabbed hold of her like she was a piece of him being put back in place.
This is the best it will get. This is the quietest it will be. The other families will not react like Matthew did. They have had the burden of time attached to their loss. All of their hope is gone. And all they will want now is justice.
I want the same thing for them, because I am not that man anymore. I am enemy to him. What he did is not something I want to run from anymore. What he did is something I will face, no matter how much it will hurt.
I don’t know where the police station is in this town. So, I’m walking back to the Buick to sit and wait. I know they’ll be here soon…
Matthew Mills
My girls and I are finally going on our picnic. There is a beautiful park back in our hometown of Anderson. We haven’t been there in a while.
Janet is my faithful passenger; Marcy is my little chatterbox from the backseat. She’s telling me about a man. “This man, daddy. He was lost. He was hurt. Jesus wanted me to help him.”
“Did you?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road.
“Yeah, I did, daddy.” she smiles at me. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweets. What is it?” I glance in the rearview mirror.
“Take care of mommy.”
My eyes open. Janet is crying, sitting on the bottom step. I fell asleep with Marcy in my arms. I don’t even know what time it is. How long has she been down here? How long has she been crying alone?
“Janet.” I whisper as I lift Marcy toward her. “Hold her.” she pulls her from my arms and wraps Marcy tight in hers.
Take care of mommy. I will, sweetheart. I will. But, I have to let you go. I have to say goodbye. I have to be okay, even though you aren’t here anymore. I want to have you forever, but I can’t. Jesus wanted you to help that man. And you did. And I’m so proud of you. I will take care of mommy. I promise.
Janet’s face isn’t buried in a tight hug. She is now cradling Marcy, looking down at her the way she did when she was born.
“You brought me so much joy, baby girl.” she says with a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry you didn’t see more of it from me.” she looks at me and shrugs while slowly shaking her head. She doesn’t know what to do next. She doesn’t know what to say.
“Say goodbye.” these words hurt to say.
Janet just shakes her head. “I don’t want to.” she pauses as new tears trace over the old stains on her cheeks. “I neglected her, Matty. I wanted you to love me like you loved her. I was so jealous of her. I wasn’t a good mom. I was just com-competing.” she stutters through her tears.
“That’s not your fault, sweetie. It’s mine.” these words hurt, too.
“How can I say goodbye, Matty? It’s only now that I realize how much I’m going to miss her. It’s only now that I see how much joy she gave me. I couldn’t see it before. I was blind to it. How can I say goodbye? I’m not ready to say goodbye. I’m finally ready to love her like I should have. But, she’s gone.”
Take care of mommy. These four words are like the five Janet was given by Jesus. They are helping me keep my eyes on something else. Not the devastating reality, but the responsibility that I still have.
I have enough strength to stand and join Janet on the bottom step. I brush her matted bangs from her face. “It’s going to be okay.”
She looks at me with eyes that are searching.
“Keep looking up at me, baby.” I pause. “Remember what you saw when you heard those words?
She nods her head.
“Keep holding onto that promise.”
“How?” her whisper is child-like, a question emptied of all direction.
“You need to know that our little girl did not die in vain.” Her eyes search mine immediately. “She helped save a man’s life. She helped him find Jesus. He was the one who brought her back.”
She looks down at Marcy and back up at me. “Does that help you?”
“Yes.” I say as I wipe away a falling tear. “It preserves the memory of our little girl. H-her kindness led that man, the very person that took her away, to Jesus. It gives me hope, sweetie. It gives me something to hold onto. She’ll never be this life-lifeless body. That isn’t her, Janet. That isn’t our Marcy. B-but who she was is who that man saw: a light that was so bright, he couldn’t help but see Jesus shining through.”
“Yeah.” her bottom lip is trembling like mine. We aren’t two separate people right now. We are one. My pain is hers, her pain is mine. There isn’t a distance between us anymore. Instead there is a connection that we have never had. A closeness we’ve never shared. This isn’t pulling us apart at the seams. It’s weaving us together. “Matty?” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what, sweetie?”
“For helping me see who our little girl was.” she’s smiling despite her tears. “She was the brightest of lights.”
John Doe
More and more of who I was before Teddy is coming back to me. I remember a story dad told me when he took me camping. I was still little. Five. Maybe six. He told me why they named me John. He told me about a man named John the Baptist. He said he was a voice in the wilderness, that his purpose in life was not to be accepted, or liked, but to live only for Jesus Christ. Then he told me my purpose in life was the same.
Matthew Mills
Something changed in Janet’s eyes immediately after she called Marcy the brightest of lights. They regained the certainty she had been carrying throughout the whole day.
But, when she looked back down at Marcy, they deflated again…
I know what I have to do. I have to call the police. I have to let them take her away, because the time to have her here has passed. I only have to look at Janet’s eyes to see that.
I pull the phone from my pocket. Janet’s eyes follow it.
“It’s time, Janet.”
“I know.” she answers quietly.
John Doe
These memories aren’t random. They are guiding me, like footprints in a desert. A path has been laid out before me. Jesus is speaking through these small memories. I was born to live only for Him. Even after everything I’ve done, somehow that truth remains. Somehow that is still my purpose.
“You have given me a purpose that I’m not worthy to have. There is someone so much better than me. The testimony of how You set me free doesn’t erase what I’ve done.”
The testimony is your purpose, John. His vibrant voice is loud in my mind. I close my eyes. The majority of the people will hate you. They believe that a depth exists that I won’t go down to. But, they can’t begin to fathom how deep My love runs. It is not conditional, like theirs. Your purpose has always
been to tell the world that no one is too lost for Me.
“Who will listen?”
Are you the only person who has committed murder before? Is it you alone who has wanted to be free, but felt you were too lost? John, your testimony is for the people who think they can’t be forgiven, the people that this world has already written off as hopeless. But, they aren’t. I know the hearts of my children. I’ve come to tell them that they can always be forgiven. And you’re my voice.
I’m sitting in His presence. There is nothing like it. It’s waves that pulsate and dance around me. It’s warmth that wraps me completely. It’s a place where fear doesn’t exist. Everything I’m about to face seems so small, because In His presence, I am complete—
Tap! Tap! My eyes open. The flash of red and blue is the first thing I see.
“What are you doing out here, Sir?” an officer asks as he shines a flashlight on me through the window.
I roll the window down with my left hand. “I’m turning myself in.”
“What did you do, Sir?”
“I kidnapped Marcy Mills from the school down the street.” I pause with a slow blink. “She was the fifteenth child I’ve kidnapped in the last twenty six years.”
He’s alert immediately. “Put your hands on the steering wheel. Don’t move.”
I do what he says.
Matthew Mills
I was told to lay Marcy on a flat surface. I was told to distance myself from her. The man I talked to didn’t want me to further contaminate the scene. He used cold, professional