Page 113 of Sheltering You

“You already left him, Jazz. You’ve already walked out on your marriage. Why not make it official? I mean, aren’t you supposed to honor your husband? Respect him? Wasn’t running away from him sin? How do you decide which ones are acceptable and which aren’t?”

“But I was⁠—”

“And as long as you’ve gone halfway with it, why not finish? Why not just⁠—?”

“If you ask me a question,” she snapped, “then you listen for my answer.”

He clamped his lips shut.

“You know Rahab?”

“Not personally.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “In the Bible, in the book of Joshua, the prostitute who⁠—”

“I know who she is.” The words were cold. “I might not stay up all night reading my Bible, but I’m not ignorant.”

“I did not mean… I do not wish to argue, only to explain.”

“Sorry.” He waved a hand toward her. “Go on, then. Explain.”

“Rahab was in an impossible position, a position she did not choose. The Israelite spies were at her home, and when the city officials came, she had to make a decision. She could betray the spies and tell the truth, or she could protect the spies and lie. Either way, there was good, and there was sin. To betray God’s people was sin. But to lie was sin also. There was no sinless path. You see?”

Perhaps Derrick knew where Jasmine was going because he didn’t say a word.

“I was in a position like Rahab. To stay with a man who was married to another woman, who was a terrorist, who would have raised our son to be a terrorist like himself, or our daughter to be a slave like me. To raise our child to hate the One True God and to love a false god—this is sin, no?”

She paused to give Derrick the opportunity to argue, but still, he said nothing.

“But to dishonor my husband was also sin. I had to choose. Maybe my choice was wrong, but my hope was to honor God the way Rahab honored God. In Jericho, Rahab was a prostitute, but with the people of God, she was redeemed. This was my prayer, that my life could be redeemed. That away from my husband and my father, I could raise my child to matter, the way Rahab’s child mattered. An ancestor of Christ, yes? This I studied, and this I prayed. That my child could grow up as His child. You see?”

Derrick’s head dipped and rose, though by the tightness in his jaw, the admission cost him something.

“Do you think I chose wrong?”

“No.” He swallowed. “No, you did the right thing.” He didn’t look at her.

She hated this. She hated hurting Derrick. It felt like her heart was shattering into a million pieces.

She’d known, when she married Khalid, that she was forfeiting the marriage God might have had for her—if she were a different kind of person, born into a different culture, a different world. She hadn’t had a choice, but she’d grieved what she knew she’d never have—to the degree that she’d understood.

But she hadn’t understood.

How could she have? She’d never known a man—not well, anyway— who was truly devoted to his wife. She’d never seen a man lay himself down for a woman like Christ did for the church.

She’d never had a man want her, desire her, or even notice her.

She hadn’t experienced true love.

Even after she’d come to America and seen how the Wright men loved their women, she hadn’t really processed that she could have been one of those women. She’d always felt…separate. As if she could never have been worthy.

But now she understood what she never had before.

Derrick knew her. He knew her like nobody had ever known her. After a decade’s separation from her twin, Jasmine thought Derrick knew her even better than Leila.

And he loved her.

And it was wrong, and she shouldn’t, and she would need to ask God to forgive her and help her overcome her feelings, but she loved him too.