He decided to go. He went. And he found out that going is not arriving.
A year after the road gave Aaron back his faith, forty feet of church aisle still stand between a widower and the table - held there not by doubt, but by the vow a body makes over a casket: never the whole of it again.
He can pray now. He can read. He rides the pantry truck and sings flat beside Lucille in the back pew. But a man who builds for a living can build a faithful-looking life the way he'd build a fa ade - true corners, clean lines, loads routed carefully around the one room nothing is allowed to touch.
Then an old woman names the closet he won't open. A pastor says a four-day name out loud. A daughter calls on the wrong night, in trouble, three hundred miles away. And on an ordinary Wednesday, over an ordinary loaf, the bread is taken, blessed, broken, given - and his eyes come open.
The third movement of the Burning Hearts series (Encounter - Recognition - Surrender - Sending): the wall, the lock, and the everlasting love that was underlined in the margin all along.
Reads as a standalone; richest after Book One (The Voice That Listened) and Book Two (Did Not Our Heart Burn).