Caught Inside

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Cole glanced over at the opposite end of the pew and saw Mr. and Mrs. Rosalind struggling to hold back tears. Mrs. Rosalind shuddered, sobbed, and pressed a wet handkerchief to her nose.

"We believe that Jesus died and rose again," the pastor continued, "and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus who have fallen asleep in him. As Jesus said, 'I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?'"

Mrs. Rosalind let out a rather unattractive combination of a snort and a sob, drawing many heads to stare at her. Cole, however, felt only mounting wretchedness. He wished the pastor would stop talking instead of crushing his emotions with every single word.

"As we look back on the life of Taylor Rosalind, a life that was tragically cut short," the pastor concluded, "let us remember that this light and momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."

There was a pregnant silence after he left the podium. To Cole's ears, it seemed as if the last triumphant chords of his words still reverberated throughout the sanctuary. A few moments later, when Mr. Rosalind reluctantly made his way to the stage to say a few words, Cole inadvertently tuned him out completely. His thoughts were still focused on those glorious words: "This light and momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory!"

The gloominess of the weather, the despondent atmosphere of the room, and the sniffles and sobs of fellow friends and classmates all around him should have been enough to sink Cole's spirits. But he had already descended that valley: he had entered with aloofness and emerged with sorrow. Now, though he still felt the bitter sing of shame and the crushing weight of his mistakes, they appeared overwhelmingly overshadowed by the hope of glory soon to come.

He lifted his head, overcome with a strange mixture of grief and hopeful expectation, and parted his lips to whisper the first prayer he had uttered in weeks: "Thank you, Lord."

This was followed by a fragmented, sloppy, but sincerely genuine apology that poured straight from Cole's heart. To Blaine, Mr. Anderson, and the others seated around him, it appeared as if the mood of the funeral had finally caught up to Cole. But Cole's tears were not a direct product of Taylor's death—they were a sign of the overflowing relief and repentance bubbling within him. By the time the service was over, Cole's cheeks were still stained with tears, but now illuminated by a shaky smile. The last prayer he murmured before rising from his seat was, "Lord, if Taylor ever thought about you the night she died, I pray that they were thoughts of repentance."

With the depressing part of the funeral over, everyone now stood up and began trickling into the center aisle to make their way to the foyer. A few refreshments were going to be served courtesy of Mr. and Mrs. Rosalind. But the grieving couple did not join their friends and relatives right away. Instead, Cole found himself pulled to the side by a large, meaty hand clamped on his shoulder.

He turned to look up into the beady eyes of Mr. Rosalind.

"Um...sir?" he asked uneasily.

"Cole Anderson," he replied stiffly, as if testing out the name on his tongue.

With a slight nod of his head, Cole acknowledged his name.

Mr. Rosalind removed his hand and motioned for Cole to follow him. While the rest of the crowd filed out, glad to find an escape from the dismal interior of the church, Cole found himself stuck between Taylor's middle-aged parents, his heart rate increasing with every second.