Kathryn had lived her life by many principles, but none rang so true as the ageless law of compensation: you reap what you sow.

Although she hadn’t found Abraham’s courage to break Eden’s leg, she’d faced terrible fears and done the next best thing by spraining it. Even doing that had been horrifying, followed by hours filled with terrible pain and heartache. How Abraham had found the courage to put his own son on the altar she could hardly fathom, but then he was the father of nations.

Perhaps in her failure to fully obey Zeke she would miss out on a blessing as great as Abraham’s, but even for her small act of obedience, Kathryn was reaping the fruit of her faithful sowing.

Three days had passed since that dreadful morning—the first of which had been dreadful, the second, peaceful, and the third, today, quite beautiful.

She’d tenderly wrapped Eden’s swollen ankle and leg with a splint to make it look like a break. Every hour thereafter, she’d gone to check on her daughter, making no attempt to hold back her tears of empathy while Eden slept in peace.

Looking upon the wounding she’d administered to her daughter was hard, but since when had being righteous not been? Didn’t punishment hurt God even more than it hurt his beloved children? Was it God’s fault that he had to level vengeance upon those who’d strayed from his love? She was only following his example, both in vengeance and in love. Her precious lamb was in a time of correction—hurting for her was appropriate even if it was best done in secret, just like God hurt in secret.

Zeke came by that first afternoon, took one look at Eden’s heavily bandaged leg, and, clearly satisfied, walked to the front door where he’d turned and offered his gratefulness.

“Your obedience doesn’t go unnoticed, Kathryn. When the time comes you will see that.”

“Thank you, Zeke.”

He nodded once. “I’ve cut the phone line.”

“Of course.”

He withdrew a small black cell phone from his pocket and gave it to her. “It’s programmed to call only my cell. Just press send. Keep it in your dresser and use it only if you find yourself out of your depth.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Zeke.”

“I want you to hide the truck keys in the shed. Somewhere neither Bobby nor Eden would think to look.”

“Why? Eden can’t drive.”

He drilled her with a dark stare that had filled her with shame. For a moment she wondered if he already knew she hadn’t broken Eden’s leg and was only toying with her.

“Forgive me, Zeke. I didn’t mean—”

“She won’t be able to walk without a cast, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try driving out again. I would appreciate a little trust from you.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hide the keys.”

“Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you, Zeke. You’re very . . .”

He’d turned before she could finish and was gone without another word. It was just as well, because really she was just stumbling all over herself and that wasn’t a pretty sight, even for someone as understanding as Zeke.

Eden hadn’t awakened that first day, which was a small blessing. Kathryn wasn’t up to facing her daughter yet. When she’d gone in to check on her the next morning, she’d been filled with trepidation, afraid to see hatred and anger in those soft brown eyes.

She’d found Eden lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, fully awake and seemingly at peace. When Eden had turned to face Kathryn, her eyes showed none of the bitterness she’d feared. Her daughter hadn’t smiled or said anything that might show her repentance, but neither had she voiced any frustration at waking to find her leg in bandages. It was a very good sign.

Kathryn had approached her bed and studied her daughter lovingly.

“Are you okay, darling?”

Eden had slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Mother.”

She smiled at Eden and, although Eden didn’t return her smile, there seemed to be a light in her eyes.

“I think that you’ll be glad to know that I’ve decided to lift my restriction on food. Your body needs to mend. Would you like some chicken soup?”

“That would be nice, Mother. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Kathryn left the room flooded with peace, quickly heated up some soup, and took it to her daughter on a wooden tray so she could eat it in bed.

Eden had spent the rest of the day in bed except to use the toilet, which Kathryn had also allowed. Watching her hobble to the bathroom had filled her with sorrow. It would have been easy to question her act of punishment, but Kathryn did her best to ignore the tempting whispers of the accuser.

Weren’t they both already seeing the fruit of repentance? Eden seemed to have finally found some inner peace. The resurrection always followed the crucifixion.

By the third day, Eden was getting around better, though still limping noticeably. More importantly, she’d found her pure self, taking time to kneel beside her bed in prayer unbidden by Kathryn. A gentleness and kindness had come to her eyes—a look that had always melted Kathryn’s heart.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Mother.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

Kathryn had gone about the rest of the day humming with gratitude. The blessing that came after obedience and suffering never ceased to amaze her.

Bobby seemed quite distraught to learn that Wyatt would be gone for a while and, without a playmate, he was far too fidgety. So Kathryn had allowed him to spend some time in Eden’s bedroom that afternoon. She’d listened at the door while Eden answered Bobby’s questions about why she had a bandage on her leg.

“I hurt it,” Eden said. “But don’t worry, it was actually a good thing.”

“Why is it a good thing? Does it hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts, but sometimes you need to feel pain so that you don’t get hurt again. Like putting your hand in the fire—you feel the pain so you don’t get burned again. Isn’t that right?”

“Fire will burn you.”

Eden had hesitated for a few moments before speaking.

“That’s right, Bobby. Fire will burn. That’s why we stay away from it.”

It was all Kathryn needed to hear. Why it had taken a measure so severe to finally show her daughter the full nature of righteousness after so many years of faithful service in purity, she didn’t know. God knew how it pained her more than it pained Eden. The important thing was that her correction had taken hold.

Zeke would be proud of them all.

On that third night, Kathryn had knelt at the side of her bed before retiring and offered a long prayer of thanksgiving for the great blessing, once stolen by the locusts, now being returned a hundredfold as they all humbled themselves and walked in obedience. Then she’d climbed under the sheets, folded her hands on her belly, and drifted into a peaceful sleep for the first time in many days.

She dreamed of Wyatt, because she missed him. He was walking with her as she approached a towering cliff and at first she thought the cliff was an obstacle she had to climb to reach the top where heaven awaited.

“Where are you going?” Wyatt asked, in the echoing way people speak while dreaming.

“To the tomb,” she said, and she thought, that’s right. I don’t have to climb the cliff. I’m just going to the tomb at the base of the cliff.

“What’s in the tomb?” he asked.

Jesus, she thought. But no, it wasn’t Jesus. It was someone else. And suddenly she was very curious about who exactly was in that tomb.

The dream was interrupted by another, this one about a dog and Bobby and she was thinking that Bobby should have a dog as a friend. But then she was somehow back with Wyatt, at the base of the cliff, looking at the tomb with its stone rolled away.

“Are you going inside?”

“No.” Her answer surprised her.

“Why not?”