“Everyone stumbles, Beth.” His voice was gentle, his demeanor nonjudgmental. “But even when people give up on God, his love never wavers. He just opens his arms and waits to welcome his children back, with all their faults. Reconciliations in the human realm can be difficult, but with God there’s no risk of failure or rejection.”

She tucked a stray piece of red onion back into her taco. “Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“I’m not sure I want a relationship with a God who doesn’t answer prayers.”

“You mean in the way that you want them answered.” His tone remained benign. Conversational.

“Yes.”

“What we want isn’t always part of God’s bigger plan, though. We see the back of the tapestry, with all its loose threads, while he sees the beautiful, intricate pattern on top. That’s where trust comes in.” He rested his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers. “But I do agree it’s difficult to trust—or love—someone who disappoints us.”

A subtle change in his inflection put her on alert.

He was talking about Steve.

Beth continued to eat, despite the sudden disappearance of her appetite—but chewing bought her a few moments to think.

While everyone who knew her and Steve was aware of their split, she’d never shared the background with anyone other than Christi. Yet Charley, with his keen intuitive abilities, had probably discerned more than most people about what had prompted it—and he’d opened the door for her to talk about it, if she chose.

In light of his compassion and empathy, it could be helpful to get his take on the situation.

She wadded the white paper from the second taco into a tight ball. “If you’re referring to Steve, that’s true. And it’s more than disappointment. I’m angry and disillusioned. I know the Bible says to forgive—but the hurt runs too deep. I can’t get past it.”

“Even if he’s repented—and changed?”

“How can I be certain he has?”

His lips flexed. “As that clever philosopher Benjamin Franklin said, the only certainty in this world is death and taxes. However, when it comes to people, listening with the heart can improve our odds of arriving at a sound conclusion.”

Hard to dispute—but first you had to hear the words being spoken.

Like the ones she’d never read in all the cards and letters Steve had written.

But if she pulled out the box she’d shoved back in her closet and opened his notes, the insulating anger could evaporate, leaving her vulnerable once again to grief and pain.

What a quandary.

And it wasn’t one Charley could solve for her—even if he’d given her food for thought as well as for lunch. This decision was hers alone.