A Time to Love by Al Lacy Page B

the grave. A large bouquet of bright-colored flowers adorned the top of the coffin.
    Blake Barrett’s pastor, Duane Clarke, had just read a passage of Scripture and was commenting on it, making his gospel message quite clear, which he had also done in the service at the funeral chapel.
    The deceased was fifty-five-year-old Bradley Barrett, Blake’s father. Bradley had founded the Pacific Bank and Trust Company some twenty years previously, and it had grown into a solid, profitable institution.
    Blake’s heart was heavy with the knowledge that he would not see his father in heaven. He wiped a hand across his face as if he could pull off and cast away the unease he felt. Bradley Barrett had been a stubborn man and early in life had set his mind on the belief that the Bible was only a book written by fools and fanatics. He had died a blatant infidel.
    Blake thought of his darling mother, who had come to know the Lord Jesus Christ a few years after she married Bradley Barrett. It was Clara Barrett who had led Blake to the Lord when he was nine years old. Blake took comfort as he stood on the bleak, windy hillside that hismother was waiting for him in heaven, as was his younger brother, Brett, who had died in infancy.
    Pastor Duane Clarke closed the graveside service in prayer, then stepped up to Blake, put an arm around his shoulder, and said, “I hope you feel I handled it all right, Blake.”
    Haman Warner looked on solemnly as Blake said, “You sure did, Pastor. There was no way you could say Dad was in heaven, though a lot of preachers would have said so just to comfort his friends. I appreciate the way you handled it with kindness and compassion, yet didn’t compromise Bible truth. And you certainly made salvation clear enough. No one can walk away from here and say they’ve never heard how to be saved. Thank you for being so faithful to the Word of God.”
    The pastor nodded and made way for the mourners to offer their condolences to Blake. Haman Warner stayed by Blake’s side.
    A few members of the church waited until the bank employees, businessmen, merchants, and other people of the town and surrounding area had passed by before speaking to Blake.
    Blake smiled at Bill and Evelyn Borah as they drew up with their two daughters, Susan and Lucy, along with Susan’s husband, Ralph Duncan, and Lucy’s fiancé, Cliff Winters. When each had conveyed their love and sympathy, Blake said to Bill, “Dad’s death has slowed us up a couple of days on your loan application. But I can tell you right now, there won’t be any problem. I’ve got to meet with our attorneys about Dad’s estate early this afternoon, but I should be able to complete the loan work before quitting time. I’ll eat supper at the cafe this evening. I can give you the details then.”
    Borah shook his head. “Blake, you can work on my loan tomorrow. I mean … after all, you’re burying your dad today.”
    “It’s all right, Bill. Business still has to go on, and you need to know about the loan so you can hire a contractor to put the addition on the cafe. I’ll see you this evening.”
    The last to approach Blake was Nora Clarke, the pastor’s wife. Her husband stood behind her. Nora embraced Blake in sisterly fashion and said, “God bless you, Blake. You’ve held up well.”
    Blake managed a slight smile. “The Lord has given me peace, Nora. Sure, it hurts to know Dad died lost, but the Comforter, who lives in my heart, has eased the pain.”
    The Clarkes spent a few more minutes with Blake, then walked away. Haman Warner, who had stood silently beside the grieving Barrett all this time, laid a hand on his arm and said, “I’d better get back to the bank.”
    Blake nodded. “Thanks for the support here. I appreciate it.”
    Haman, who was exactly Blake’s height at just under six feet, said, “Hey, Blake. What are friends for?”
    The clouds were breaking up, and warm shafts of sunshine touched the earth as Blake Barrett approached the