Race Against Time: A Novel by Woodhouse Kimberley & Woodhouse Kayla R

Author:Woodhouse, Kimberley & Woodhouse, Kayla R. [Woodhouse, Kimberley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: B&H Publishing Group
Published: 2011-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

SEAN

January 24

7:54 a.m.

Loosen up.

As he drove to the kennel, Sean couldn’t get Cole’s words out of his head. Loosen up, indeed. Cole had no idea what kind of world he’d lived in all these years. On the surface, it looked enviable. Living in a mansion, surrounded by staff. Hosting elegant fundraisers where the tickets sold for $2,500 a head. Attending coveted dinner parties with politicians.

And his office. A nice little 1500-square-foot corner suite at the top of CROM tower, with walls of windows, two full-time secretaries he didn’t need, and enough technology to run a small country.

He’d come to hate it all.

Cole was right. He was stiff. His whole life had been stiff. Rigid. Trapped in the confines of lies and deceit he hadn’t even known were binding him. But he was free now. So why did he still feel . . . imprisoned?

Maybe he should take up watching television. See how the real world lived. Isn’t that what most Americans spent their free time doing?

Then again, he’d rather not. The few channels he’d flipped to other than his favorite ESPN were filled with reality shows that seemed about as far removed from reality as the moon was from the earth.

He was stuck.

His father’s words raced back into his mind. His gut churned. Then the message in the bathroom mirror drifted into his mind.

The churn turned into a rolling boil.

“Stop!”

He slammed his fist against the dashboard. But the growing fury remained.

All those years he’d worked under his father’s thumb, stuffing his frustration. His resentment. It wasn’t until he broke free, until he was days into his trek across country, that the rage finally erupted. And kept erupting. Sometimes when he least expected it.

He’d gotten good at holding it all in until he was alone, but that wasn’t the answer and he knew it

God, I’m done with that life! Why can’t I let the anger go?

No answer. Well, what had he expected? More and more lately, when he prayed, that was the result. Silence. Like God’s words to him were somehow being blocked . . .

Not blocked. Deflected.

Sean frowned. Deflected? By what?

But even as he asked the silent question, he knew.

By him.

By his anger.

For months he’d wrestled with this burden. The ever-increasing weight pressed into his shoulders with every mile he’d walked. And now . . . that weight had seemed to turn to brick and mortar and stack into an invisible wall.

One that has come between you and God.

The thought brought him up short. He pulled over onto the side of the road. Shut off the engine. And sat there. Taking in the truth.

His anger—and refusal to let go of it—was getting in the way of his relationship with God. The walls, the distance he felt, were of his own making. The rage inside him toward his earthly father waged a battle against his yearning for a closer relationship with his heavenly Father. Instead of allowing himself to heal after cutting the ties with CROM, with his father, he’d fed the growing infection until it festered.

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