But now she no longer could.
Eve kicked off her shoes, unfastened her nylons, and rolled them off. She wiggled out of her crinoline, took off her pearls, then climbed out of the car and entered the woods. She seldom walked barefoot anymore, and the rough forest floor hurt her feet. Eve ignored the pain as she moved deeper into the woods, the pain from the choices she’d made outweighing her discomfort. In the distance, a creek laughed and burbled, drawing her. The canopy of trees reminded her of the woods back home, and she remembered the joy she used to feel as she’d played there. At the edge of the woods was the church she attended with Granny Maud and Mum and George, the church where she had felt so loved and cared for—until God had abandoned her.
Or had He?
Maybe Eve had used God’s abandonment as a handy excuse to go her own way. If she was honest, she had to admit that she had turned her back on God, allowing bitterness and grief to lead her, wandering, in the wrong direction, away from Him. Into Louis’s arms. Into a life of lies. Now she was lost, and she had no one to blame but herself. Her own choices. Her own willfulness.
She had drawn such comfort as a child from the picture of the Good Shepherd that had hung in Granny’s cottage and from the stories she’d learned about His love and care for her. Granny said He would search for His lost sheep the way Daddy used to do when one of his sheep foolishly wandered away. He would never leave her lost and alone.
Eve stopped walking. She stood still to listen. “God, where are You?” she whispered. The silence told her that He was gone. It was too late. She sank down on the ground, not caring about her dress, and buried her face in her hands. “God, I’m sorry,” she wept. “I’m so, so sorry!”
Sorry for committing adultery with Louis. Sorry for stealing another woman’s husband, a little girl’s father. She had done wrong, and she couldn’t use the war as an excuse. She was sorry for stealing Audrey’s identity, her home, her family. It didn’t matter that Audrey had thrown them away. What Eve did was wrong. Her lies would cause pain to good, undeserving people like the Barretts and Tom Vandenberg and his family. Worse, Eve had dragged her innocent son into this mess. He would be hurt the most by her sins. Little Harry had already lost his name, and now he would lose his home, his grandparents, his very identity as Robbie Barrett. Would he ever forgive her? Eve wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t.
That was the destructive power of sin and lies—they harmed the innocent along with the guilty. Hitler’s lies had dragged the entire world into six long years of hell. Eve would face humiliation and shame when her sins were exposed, and rightly so. She hadn’t been able to get away from God after all. He’d known the truth about her all along.
“I’m so sorry, God!” she sobbed. “So very, very sorry!”
Eve didn’t deserve His forgiveness. She didn’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. She deserved anger and condemnation and shame. The life she’d built had collapsed, burying her, leaving no way out, no one to dig her free from the rubble. She sobbed with hopelessness. Granny Maud would be so disappointed in her. If only her stories about the Good Shepherd could be true, the Shepherd who would take her punishment for the mess she’d made so she could be forgiven. If only He would find her, His lost sheep, and forgive her. Eve covered her face and wept and wept.
After a very long time, a strange sound caught Eve’s attention. She lifted her head and listened. The wind sighed through the tree branches. Birds called to each other. The creek rushed and gurgled. She heard it again—the sound of a baby crying. No, not a baby. The plaintive cry of a lamb.
A lamb? It couldn’t be.
The underbrush rustled as an animal moved among the trees. She heard a pitiful bleat. Eve stood. She saw it then—a small woolly lamb surrounded by forest. Dwarfed by it. She limped toward the animal on bruised feet, then sank to the ground again as she gathered the lost lamb in her arms. It licked her hand, her face with its warm, rough tongue. Eve closed her eyes, sobbing against the lamb’s nubby fur. Could it really be true? Would God really search for her and forgive her for everything she’d done?
She waited, barely breathing.
Footsteps rustled through the woods. She heard Tom’s voice, calling to his lamb.
Joy overwhelmed her, flooding through her. Everything Granny said was true. “Over here!” Eve called out. “We’re over here!”
The Good Shepherd had come to fetch His lost sheep and bring her home.
“When’s my mommy coming home?” Robbie asked.