Alex's Story

For April.
And Jen.
And Carrie.
And just about everybody else that's been asking me when this is going to be done...  Well, work is in progress, though I don't know where it will go.  I think God doesn't so much allow me to write for other people's benefit as much as mine.  I don't know about anyone else but He teaches me through the story He gives me.  I suppose CTMLR2 has been so long in coming because... I've still got things to learn from it. 

Here's a section that I'm working on.  It's pretty rough but the inspiration hit me and I wanted to share it.  I thought we needed Alex's perspective on things in CTMLR2. Despite all that took place in CTMLR1 Alex isn't a monster.  He's just a flawed human being like the rest of us.  A human who, in the absence of a Savior, has done some pretty terrible things.  But don't we all?  The saying  "There but for the Grace of God go I"  applies to all of our hearts, not just the worst of us.  We are all broken and confused.   So here you go, people who have been asking for it... a trip back to Nine Run.  Overlook any typos and forgive me if it changes between blog and written page. 

Prologue

There have been many times that I doubted his word, never more than in this instance.  He told me he would write to you too, I never believed he would.  Since we married that chapter of his life has been firmly, resolutely, closed.  It was never opened a crack, not when people gossiped, nor when as a child you demanded to know why you looked so much like him and not like Bryan.  I’m sure you’ve come to your own conclusions, though I wonder as to how accurate they could be.   He has never spoken of our life before until that night when you asked me.  He bore the gossip and the shame without ever once defending himself or trying to explain his side.  Our family, as he told you often enough, “Is what it is and nothing more.”  Not that I blame him in the least; I was perfectly content to leave that part of my life buried in the South Georgia soil as well. 

Today I found a parcel of papers, written in your father’s flawless penmanship, tied with a twine.  There was no fanfare about it and since he has not asked me, I have not read it.  I urge you to read it in light of the man he is now, the father that he has been to you and to not let your image of him be swayed by the sins committed by a lost and damaged youth. 

Part 1

Alex

I’ve watched her; over the last few months as she’s delved into the hidden parts of her soul.  She’s grieved as much from writing this as she has from missing her first born. 

She’s worried about you.  I see her peering anxiously at the paper, needing to know… dreading it at the same time.  It makes guilt wash over me, too, imagining my own mother doing the same sort of thing while I was gone. 

I knew you’d be one of the first to sign up.  Even before Pearl we fought about it often enough.  Your mother blames me of course, it was that trip to France that got you started.  I had never told you war stories, but you seemed old enough to understand some things… and well… when you leave part of your soul on a battlefield it is hard to never return.  I knew you were getting older and I knew eventually I would have to tell you.  Perhaps, I wanted you to see that even in those days; I wasn’t all bad.

And so, for the first time, you got a glimpse of that reckless youth that I had once been and it only seemed to whet your appetite.  

I told you that it “wasn’t our war” and of course you wouldn’t listen.  The last one "wasn’t our war either", and I watched you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t do the same fool thing I had done.  You were well on your way to being a doctor like your father.  I promised him I would take care of you and I know he would be smiling down on his boy.

Oh, well, son.  I suppose the university will still be there when you return, and the medical skills that you already possess will serve you well.  How could you not go where you not help?  Your mother blamed me, of course when you signed up but I suppose we are both to blame. 

You are, after all, the son of “Gallant Bradshaw” and so how could you do less?  You felt the call.  People needed you.  You are so much like your father in that way.   

He was the real Gallant Bradshaw, Hero of Nine Run. 

And though your mother stews about your not finishing school; he wasn’t a doctor yet either, but that didn’t matter.  God calls the courageous and pure of heart into His service regardless of training.  I know you’ll return to us.  Your father promised to take care of you.  I know from experience that there are angels on the field of battle.  I’ve seen them myself, though not all of them have wings. 

Some do.  I’ve seen them, too. 

I am comforted by the thought that when he left us and gave me the honor of raising his son he went on to meet you there.  I know that while I am here I can do little more than pray for your safety but your Heavenly Father has already sent his angels to protect you.

One of them is named Bryan.

Your real father.  Despite anything anyone says or infers behind closed doors or whispers behind their hands you are his child.   

You are the child of my passion; created in a moment of senseless rage.  I knew how badly that act would scar your mother, I was well aware that a life could result from it as well.  It didn’t matter to me at the time.  It would be a means to an end.  She would have no other choice but to stay with me after that, and a child would only seal our union.

I didn’t want you then. 

I only wanted the power you would give me over her.

Had I succeeded in my plan all of our lives would have been very different.  I wouldn’t have loved her; I didn’t know what love was then. I would have been cruel to her, though I am ashamed to admit it now.  I would have hurt her because she loved him the most and I would have done it to spite him.

I knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand it and the situation would have ended with at least one of us dead.

I would have raised you in the image of the man I was then.  The son of a wealthy landowner from a proud family, a businessman, a man who took what he wanted and didn’t care what devastation he left behind.

Your life would have been a nightmare.

All of our lives would have been.

But God laughed at my schemes.  He stepped in and made beauty from ashes.  He took my sick and twisted plans and he made his own.  He redeemed you; at that very moment of conception He took what was done in evil and started working it for good. 

I had planned to seduce her that night because I knew she was so close to choosing him over me.  Instead, she chose him and I couldn’t let it go at that.  I violated her. I wanted to hurt her as much as I had been hurt. 

I succeeded.  The scars she carries still cannot be seen, but they are deep and she will carry them to her grave.  I had meant to break her, to grind her will until she could do nothing but obey mine.  

But in the morning light I saw what I had done and I could not face it. 

I could not face myself.

I ran. I ran as far away as I could think to go. 

Right into the jaws of death and hell itself.

Then I fell back into the hands of a loving God that saw beyond my sins.

I’m thankful.

I’m thankful for his great love for us.  I’m thankful that He knows the story that hasn’t yet been written for our lives.  I'm thankful that he can see exactly what we need before we even know we need it and that he can forgive us when we try to re-write His story it in our own image. 

I’m thankful for that dirty orphan boy my Father brought home.  That boy that I hated because he had no name, no family of his own.

 He was sent to save ours.

Allow me to introduce you to your true father, David Bleu Bradshaw. 

You were the child of my body and my blood.

You were the child of his heart.

You were the child of my passion and guilt.

You were the child of his love.

I schemed for you.

He prayed for you to be used for God’s purpose. 

I wanted to use you.

He gave you to God and let Him use you.

You are not an accident. You are not a mistake.  You are not the result of a violent and senseless act perpetrated on an innocent girl by a broken and bitter man. 

You are a miracle.

You are everything we needed to heal us bring us back together. 

So, there's what I've got so far... what do you think? I hope that God teaches you as much from this journey as He's taught me.  Blessings Y'all.