Father is a unique Christian fiction novel that embraces God's Word as its foundation. Though the story itself is fiction, God's boundless truth is woven into every page.
Elaine Brantley has spent her life searching for the truth. As a journalist and a self-proclaimed atheist, she has even made a living out of it. Faced with world renowned biblical scholar Dr. Christian T. Oliver, a man witnesses claim performed a miracle, she determines to remain objective.
But the interview she is granted is not what she expects, and rather than asking questions and getting answers, she finds herself inexplicably listening instead. Captivated by the story he weaves, she begins to see a powerful truth she wasn’t even looking for.
No longer sure what’s real and what’s not, she questions everything she thought she knew. And in the end, only one truth seems to matter. Who is this Father Christian claims loves her so much?
Father is unique in that is incorporates so much scripture throughout the story. It is a story that God gave me to help me and others understand concepts within God's Word that are difficult to grasp and apply to our lives.
The emotional and powerful journey that Christian takes Elaine on throughout the interview she is conducting as he tells her the story, and the way the story and the characters are woven together so seamlessly in the end to beautifully portray God's love for us.
Out of the darkness rose the beast called terror. It clawed its way to the surface mercilessly, callously gleeful to be free.
The horrifyingly familiar senses slammed into her. The metallic taste of blood pooling in her mouth. The binds holding her hands captive cutting into her flesh. The smell of his foul breath and sweat. Her own gagged sobs intermixed with his grunts and growls. The crushing weight of him on top of her. His fisted hands inflicting punishing blows as he violated her.
The pain was so great, she thought she might shatter under the strain. Unbearable was the word that reverberated back to her along with the nightmarish memory. Though she’d had no choice but to bear it.
Suddenly she was running through the dark. How had she gotten away? How had she escaped? Even awake and fully conscious, she didn’t really remember. Did it even matter now?
She’d just ran, no matter how painful it had been to do so. She’d ran as though her life had depended on it…because it had.
Light! There was a light in the darkness. Her lungs felt as though they might burst from the strain. She kept running anyway. Don’t stop! Don’t stop!
Desperate to reach the refuge of that light, she pushed her bloody legs and feet to keep going. Faster! She needed to run faster! He was coming!
The light was growing brighter and bigger. Suddenly the ground under her feet changed and she stumbled. A hard, smooth surface. The light was blinding, and she froze in front of it. She’d made it!
Pain exploded in every cell of her body as a force slammed into her and sent her flying away from the light. Her world went dark again. Her mind floated just above the pain, a thin thread the only link between mind and body.
Then she felt a warmth spreading like a comforting balm over her battered and broken body. A man’s voice, laced with gentle compassion spoke. “It’s okay now. I am with you. I won’t leave you, my child.”
Naomi bolted upright in her bed, her breath ragged. Tears streaming down her face. Emotions tore through her in a raging frenzy. Panic, fear, anger, grief, relief. She tried to level herself. To assure herself it was past. She was safe now. In her room. In her bed.
But then she felt it. A presence. An electricity humming over her skin and lifting the hairs on her arms. She was immobilized by fear.
“Do not be afraid,” a man’s voice said gently, with calming reassurance.
That voice, she thought. She knew it. “Who are you?”
“I AM,” was the only reply she got.
“You are who?”
“I AM the way, the truth, and the life.”¹
Realization dawned on her slowly. The voice was familiar because it was the same one she’d heard in her dreams. The same one she’d heard that night. Out of the darkness. Reassuring her. Comforting her.
The way, the truth and the life? Tears stung her eyes again. She recalled with faint familiarity the words as those of Jesus Christ in the Gospels.
“I am always afraid,” she whispered.
“Take courage, my child,” the voice said. “I am here.”²
“I don’t understand,” she cried softly. “I don’t know what to do. I am so angry and hurt. Why did this happen to me?!”
“I know your anguish,” the voice replied, sorrowful compassion in every word. “Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me.”³
“I’m not strong enough,” she denied. “This is more than I can bear.”
“My Father gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless,”⁴ was the voice’s answer. “Those who trust in Him will find new strength.”⁵
She didn’t hear the man move, but she felt a gentle touch on her hand. A peace she had never known flowed through her. Refreshing relief for her weary, wounded soul.
“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.”⁶