Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

Thirty-two
God moves in mysterious ways,
His wonders to perform…
W I L L I A M
C O W P E R
Miriam watched Paul brood over his supper. He had hardly eaten a bite of
his stew, and his mug of coffee was cold. She didn’t even need to ask what
was wrong. “You’ve been to see Michael.”
“Yes,” he said bleakly. He pushed his plate back, a frown darkening his
face. “I don’t understand him anymore. I don’t understand him at all.”
Miriam waited, hoping he would say more, that this time he would
explain. He was angry and frustrated, but something more was preying at
him, something deep and unseen, something crippling. A cancer of the soul.
Paul spoke through gritted teeth. “When’s he going to give it up? It tears
at my guts to see him on his knees over that woman.” He let out his breath
sharply. “Miriam, I wanted to hit him.” He clenched his fist. “I wanted to
shake him. He was praying when I got there. Down on his knees in the
barn, praying for her.”
She couldn’t understand his animosity. “But why shouldn’t he, Paul? She’s
his wife, and he still loves her.”
His face set in hard lines. “A wife? Can’t you see what she’s done to him?”
“She told me she was leaving because she thought it best for him.”
He scraped his chair back abruptly. “Do you believe that? You never
knew her. Not really. She was cold as steel, Miriam. She was a prostitute
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