Restoreth My Soul (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF

out, but he hasn’t. This is just some terrible coincidence here. You already carry around more guilt than you deserve, don’t you even think about adding this to it.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered.
    He continued to stare at her and she felt like he was looking into her very soul. Jeremiah seemed to understand her on a much deeper level than anyone ever had.
    “And even if this isn’t a coincidence, it doesn’t matter. You are the most important person in my life,” he said.
    Her breath caught in her throat and she became intensely aware of his hands pressing against her cheeks, the warmth radiating from his body as he stood so close to her. She stared deeply into his eyes and felt tears begin to sting her own as the truth took her by storm. “You’re the most important person in my life, too,” she whispered.
    “Good, then we have an understanding,” he said, expression intense.
    Then he dropped his hands and took a small step backward. She felt her heart beginning to pound all over again. Just what kind of understanding did he think they had?
    He resumed eating and after a moment so did she.
    They finished dinner in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After Jeremiah had drank the last of his soda he gave her a lopsided grin. “No rest for the wicked, isn’t that what they say? I think it’s time for me to get back to work.”
    Cindy followed him back into the other room. The sun was sinking in the sky and the room was getting darker. The seemingly endless summer days were beginning to grow shorter and soon winter would be upon them. Jeremiah flicked on the overhead lights in the room and she was glad to see that they provided more than enough light for him to continue to work by.
    He pushed a ladder to the side. “I’ve finally reached the place where I can read the letters while standing on the ground,” he explained.
    “That’s got to be a relief,” she said.
    “More than you can guess.”
    He pulled out his recorder and began to translate. She listened as she took a closer look around the room. He hadn’t asked her to leave and she was in no mood to, not after whatever it was had just happened in the kitchen. Every time she started to think about it, though, she felt like she was having trouble catching her breath. Maybe it was best not to think too closely on it or read too much into it.
    She saw the bloody word that he had said meant restoration. She still couldn’t fathom why someone who was dying would choose to make that his last word.
    “Jeremiah?”
    He paused and she glanced at him. He pushed a button on the digital recorder. “What is it?”
    “You said he was born and raised in Germany and that he spoke German when he was agitated?”
    “Yes.”
    “And all of this is Hebrew. Was he Jewish?”
    “Mark asked the same question and I told him I was almost certain that he wasn’t.”
    “Then why bother learning Hebrew? I mean, it’s not the easiest language in the world. You have to learn a completely different alphabet and teach yourself to write backward, from right to left, don’t you?”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Why bother if you weren’t Jewish?”
    “Maybe he was some sort of scholar,” he suggested.
    “I guess that could be true,” she said. It didn’t feel right, though.
    “If he is, I’m sure we’ll find out when we get to that part of his story,” Jeremiah said.
    She continued to stare at the bloody letters on the wall. She knew what it was like to believe that your life was ending, that you were dying. She knew the pain, the fear, the panic.
    “If he spoke German when agitated, why didn’t he write this out in German as he was dying?”
    Jeremiah came to stand beside her. “That’s a good question,” he said after a moment.
    “I mean, he had to be afraid, in shock, wouldn’t it have been more natural to write his dying words in his native language?”
    “It would have,” Jeremiah said, his voice taking on a darker quality to it.
    She glanced