Page 146 of Wasted
“But what do I have to do to get right with Him?”
She barely heard Cillian’s question as the truth dawned. Jesus hadn’t always done as He was told by people, He hadn’t gone along to get along. He hadn’t obeyed all the manmade rules of the pharisees or even the law enforcement and lawmakers of the time when He’d walked the earth.
He had obeyed and followed only God. That obedience had included confronting people in their sin, calling out hypocrites, and driving out evildoers from God’s house of worship.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Wonder flowed through her body, the only thing she could feel as it filled her soul. “Jesus did it all. He brought peace between me and God, between you and God.”
“I don’t need to do anything?”
She smiled up at Cillian, his forehead lined with adorable, confused furrows. “Do you trust in God? Do you believe Jesus brought peace between Him and you by living a perfect life and dying to pay for your sins?”
The lines smoothed as Cillian met her gaze for several seconds. “Yes. I’ve really blown it. I did this to you, Vicks.” His gaze lowered, drifting toward her wound. “I turned into a bully who pushed you into doing what I wanted. Just like your dad. I’ve become the very person I’ve been fighting against my whole life. But I don’t even know if I can change. I need God’s help. I need him to change me, like you said. If you were to…” Emotion strangled his voice.
He took in a breath. “I can’t live with this, knowing what I’ve done, how wrong I’ve been.” Was that a tear, tracking down his face? His cheeks were already moist from the snow melting on them. But this was larger.
She reached toward his face to wipe the tear away. But for some reason, she could only lift her hand close enough to brush one fingertip against his chin.
He captured her hand in his. “I was listening to you, Vicks. I don’t want the eternal condemnation you talked about. And I can’t live with this guilt. I’ll never be perfect, but I want to try.”
“You don’t have to. You’ll never be able to be good.”
A shaky smile curved his lips. “Always the bad Doherty boy, huh?”
“No. None of us can earn our way out of God’s judgment. We can’t do it. That’s why Jesus did it for us. He already made peace for you, Cillian. And your contrition, your sorrow for your sins now, He did that, too. He’s giving you the repentance and faith to believe in Him, to put your trust in Him forever.”
Exactly as Jesus had done for Victoria. And His example, even above her mother’s, was the one she should have been following all these years.
She’d forgotten that Christ came to make peace between God and man but also to bring division between families—as some came to faith and others didn’t—to bring judgment on sinners, and to oppose those who did wrong.
Oh, how foolish she had been in her approach with those in authority, especially her father.
She’d thought she had clear boundaries and that she would only obey people in authority as long as they didn’t tell her to do something wrong. But she had enabled them to continue doing wrong themselves, making it easier for them to do so because she didn’t challenge them or stand in their way.
By never challenging her father’s selfish requirements and demands on his children, she had become a participant in his wrongdoing. She’d become so much a part of ensuring that his desires were met that she had become as guilty as he was. No wonder Spring had remarked during her rehab that she thought Victoria was like their father.
Yes, Christians were called to be peacemakers, but never to ignore evil. Bringing true peace meant emulating Christ—confronting people, in love, about their sin, and challenging them to change, to repent and come to Christ. How different the Weston family might look now if Victoria had followed Christ’s definition of peacemaking instead of her own.
“I guess this is what it feels like to be you, huh?”
She peered up at Cillian.
A new brightness filled his eyes, a light of hope and happiness she’d never seen there before.
“What’d you call it?”
“Belonging to Christ. Peace…” Her eyelids closed as her voice weakened.
“Oh, no you don’t, Vicks. I’m happy to go to heaven with you when the time comes. But we aren’t done yet, do you hear me?” Movement jostled her body, something like corded ropes under her.
Was she rising off the ground? Was this what dying felt like? Perhaps she was flying away, to heaven.
She would see Mom there. And Cillian, too, if he couldn’t find a way out of the storm.
But most glorious of all, she would see Jesus. Oh, how her heart yearned to set eyes on her Redeemer.
His peace washed over her as He brought her nearer, so much nearer to Himself.
Chapter
