What if the saints of old walked among us today-would we honor their triumphs, or whisper about their secrets?
Zarinna knows the weight of hidden truths. Once devoted, now marked by choices she cannot undo, she carries shame like a shadow she cannot...
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Zarinna fiddled with the ballpen she held as she stared afar, her focus drawn to the window of her room instead of the pile of papers she was supposed to be grading. The afternoon light filtered through the thin curtains, hazy and soft, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the mountains. Yet, despite the peace outside, her chest felt as though a storm churned within it. Gina's invitation whispered in her mind, over and over again.
Would you like to visit our church?
She drew in a sharp breath, forcing her gaze back to the papers before her, attempting to summon the concentration she no longer possessed. The handwriting she tried to read blurred into unreadable strokes, and after several frustrated seconds, she let the pen fall. The sharp clatter against the wooden floor seemed to echo louder than it should have.
Groaning, Zarinna let go of the stack of papers and leaned back against her chair, releasing a long, weary sigh. The question weighed heavily on her heart. She could not push it away.
Am I ready to go to church again? Would God even accept me?
The thought pierced deep, and her heart tightened painfully. What would I do with my life without God? The ache spread, sharp and familiar. She swallowed hard, resisting the tears that gathered in her eyes.
Nathan's face surfaced in her mind—the warmth of his voice, the gentleness of his smile—followed by the piercing truth of why loving him was wrong. Her hands clenched into shaking fists.
Why? her heart screamed silently. Why me?
She hated that she loved him. She hated that every fiber of her being longed for him. And she hated herself most of all—for being so weak, for not being able to tear her heart away from what could never be. Her soul longed for God; just the thought of Him awakened life within her. Yet her heart was bound, entangled in sin she didn't know how to escape.
"Oh, God..." Her voice broke as she began to sob. The emptiness expanded inside her, taking hold. "Please..."
Her prayer collapsed into trembling breaths. She didn't know what to ask for. She didn't know if God could hear someone like her—someone who had fallen so far.
The story of the woman caught in adultery flickered through her mind. Jesus had shown mercy. He had forgiven. He had freed her.
But why did it feel impossible for her?
Her tears flowed freely now, unrestrained. Her heart felt squeezed hollow, as if each beat hurt more than the last.
"Jesus..." she whispered, voice shaking, "P-please make a way..."
I already have.
Her eyes shot open when she heard it.
A voice—gentle, familiar, like a memory she had forgotten she remembered.
