Anthrocide

Lisa Taylor is a single mom who relies on God to get her through her everyday trials. She is far from perfect. She is a little overweight and has made some big mistakes in her past—mistakes that her rigid parents see as unforgivable. Sometimes she is unable to leave her worries with the Lord. Sometimes her faith wavers. For all her imperfections, though, she is secure in the love of Jesus.

Clayton Osborne has had a difficult time in his past, but at last that is all behind him. He is an English professor at a community college. He is an avowed atheist, secure that he has all of life’s most necessary answers. Mentored by the pompous but well-connected Woodrow Hollingshead, his star is on the rise. Then one day he finds a purse while jogging past the football field. Lisa Taylor’s purse. From the moment he delivers it, neither person’s life is ever the same.

Lisa’s little daughter faces life-threatening surgery. Clayton is suspected of being the campus attacker. As if that were not enough, their own faith vs. atheism dispute encounters a further complication: they are hopelessly in love with each other.

Hidden in a Field is about romance. Hidden in a Field is about mystery. But most of all, Hidden in a Field is about atheism being confronted with the power of Christ’s love.

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Excerpt from Hidden in a Field

The passenger seat of the little Escort was dotted liberally with brown, round, peanut butter cup wrappers interspersed among used Kleenexes. There was an even deeper dent under its accelerator pedal as well. Lisa and Terri no more than walked in the door of the duplex when the phone rang. She knew who it was, and dreaded the upcoming conversation.

“Hello?”

“Lisa, this is Clay. Look, before you say anything let me apologize for—”

“Clay, I have something important to tell you.”

“Lisa, don’t. Just give me a chance to—”

“Clay, this is going to be hard enough. Please have the decency to let me speak.” Her voice was already quavering. “I don’t know for sure if you know this, but according to the Bible that I believe in—foolishly, perhaps—”

“Aw Lisa, I never said—”

“Clay, please! According to God’s word, it is wrong for me to be hooked-up with an unbeliever. Now, I know we haven’t made any long-term commitments to each other, but I’ve been pleading with God to show me if what we’re doing is okay. I’ve asked Him over and over to make it plain to me if our relationship should continue or stop. Clay, I believe today God may have answered that request. Not the way I was hoping, but He really knows best.” She had to pause and regain control of her tears. “Clay, I don’t think we should see each other any more. I’m sorry. I know you can’t understand this, but that’s how it has to be.” She barely squeaked out the last few words.

Clay almost literally felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. He felt a desperation he could never remember feeling before. “Lisa, please, I know you’re upset and you have every right to be. But please, darling, don’t walk away now; not just when everything was becoming so wonderful between us.”

She was crying openly. “Please don’t Clay. I can’t deal with this right now. Not with Terri’s operation and everything, I just can’t.”

“Honey, please don’t hang up. Let me come see you.”

“Clay!”

“Just for ten minutes. That’s all. I promise.”

“No, it’s no good, Clay.”

“Please, Lisa, just ten minutes. That’s all I ask. What harm could that do?”

“Clay you’re not being fair.”

Now his voice was shaking. “I know, but I don’t want to be fair, I just need to see you for ten minutes. I can’t let it end with you in tears on the other end of the phone.” His heart was pounding as he became more and more frantic. “Lisa, if it will do any good for me to beg, I will. Just give me ten minutes, please, Buttercup, please.”

She looked heavenward, agonized with indecision. She let out a broken sigh of reluctance and said, “Oh, okay.”

It seemed like he was in her driveway before she hung the phone up, a trip that would have done her driving style proud. As soon as she answered the door they embraced as if clinging to life itself. She used up his full ten minutes crying into his chest. He tried to keep from letting the emotion of the moment overwhelm him. He tried to keep a close check on what words he spoke. It made no difference. The words demanded to be said; there was no suppressing them.

“I love you, Lisa Taylor. I swear by all there is, I love you. I can’t let you go out of my life. I can’t. Please don’t shut me out, honey, please.” Now he was crying. He kissed and stroked her hair. “I am so sorry to cause you such pain. How I could sit there and let you endure that insufferable— Please forgive me, darling. I know you know all about forgiveness. You told me about it, remember?”

She pulled away and nodded.

“Look, I know that what you believe causes a barrier between us, and how tough that is on you. I never thought I’d say this, but I’d like to believe, I really would. But what I said today is true. It just hasn’t been proven to me that God exists. I refuse to just pretend. You wouldn’t want that, right? So show me, Lisa, convince me. I know it was an emotional experience that made God real to you, but I’m just not led by emotions.”

She looked up, wiped a tear track off his face with her thumb and laughed, her own eyes red from crying. “Oh, no, you’re not emotional at all.”

He laughed and hugged her. “That’s different. You know what I mean.” He looked into her deep brown eyes and whispered, “It is so good to see you smile again.”

She pulled away and led him into the living room where they sat on the couch. They sat for a long time in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms but in their own thoughts. Finally Clayton spoke, picking up where he had left off.

“Lisa, I don’t want to persuade you to become an atheist like I am. That would destroy the beautiful person you are. But if I’m supposed to come around to your beliefs, I need your help. Even if some great breathtaking event were the thing to convince me, am I just supposed to sit around and wait for it? There must be some rational, logical foundation for your faith. Something more than feelings. Some proof, or at least a preponderance of evidence that there really is a God.”

She looked at him as if a spotlight had just been shined on her. “Clay. I don’t believe in God purely because I had a life-changing experience. I didn’t discard my brain the day I accepted Jesus. Of course I believe there is convincing proof.”

“You do? There is?”

She smiled excitedly. “Certainly there is.”

He squinted at her warily and sat back, arms folded. His body language said, This better be good.

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