by Natasha Woodcraft
Looking for Christian fiction about forgiveness when healing seems impossible?
How do you forgive someone who has destroyed everything you loved? How do you find healing when the person who hurt you can never say sorry – because they’re gone, banished, or simply refuse to acknowledge what they’ve done?
The Wanderer Reborn is biblical fiction that courageously explores these raw, honest questions through the eyes of Awan, sister to history’s first murderer. In this second part of Natasha Woodcraft’s Cain and Abel retelling, we don’t follow the killer, we walk alongside the one left behind, grappling with a grief and anger so profound that forgiveness seems impossible. This is Christian fiction about forgiveness that doesn’t offer easy answers – just an achingly honest journey toward hope.
Who is The Wanderer Reborn written for?
This book speaks to anyone wrestling with how to forgive without closure. If you’ve lost someone you loved to violence, betrayal or tragedy, and the perpetrator never apologised, or never could apologise, Awan’s journey will resonate deeply with you.
The Wanderer Reborn is for readers of Christian fiction who crave stories that don’t shy away from difficult truths. If you’re asking “how can I forgive someone who hurt me this badly?” or “how do I let go when I’ll never get the apology I deserve?”, this book offers hope without easy answers.
Why do I need this book?
✨ It tackles forgiveness honestly. This isn’t a tidy story where everything gets neatly resolved. Awan’s path to forgiveness is messy, painful, and achingly real. She doesn’t just decide to forgive and move on – she battles bitterness, wrestles with God, and slowly discovers that forgiveness isn’t about letting Kayin (Cain) off the hook. It’s about freeing herself from the weight of hatred.
✨ It shows that healing begins long before resolution comes. When Kayin is banished and Awan has no idea if she’ll ever see him again, she must still choose: bitterness or hope. Through God’s grace and her own courageous journey, Awan discovers that forgiveness is a path she can walk even when the future is uncertain. This is a story that acknowledges how impossibly hard forgiveness is, while pointing toward the God who makes the impossible possible.
✨ It’s biblical fiction that feels deeply human. While rooted in Genesis 4, this is Awan’s imaginative story – the sister never named in Scripture, watching her family shatter after Abel is murdered by their eldest brother. Each page pulses with authentic emotion: the shock of finding her twin brother’s body, the ache of losing the man she once loved to violence and exile, the slow, painful process of choosing forgiveness over bitterness.
Can I read a sample first?
Of course! Here, Awan has been trying to forgive Kayin, but bitterness still grips her heart. When her mother asks how she’s coping, Awan confesses the impossible struggle:
I thought the conversation was over, but Ima continued. ‘Unless you are still sad and just being brave? Awan, how is your heart?’
The question set me back, and I found myself drying something twice. ‘I confess I do miss my brothers, even after all this time. When Havel died, it ripped me in two. I didn’t know how to live without him; he had always been there, you know?’
Ima nodded. ‘I remember well feeling the two of you kicking about together in my womb. It felt like I was carrying a couple of jackals!’
I smiled. ‘Even when we were apart, I still felt Havel’s presence in my life. But the day I found him in the field, I knew he was gone. I knew his soul had departed, and I couldn’t go with him. It felt like I was starting life all over again, yet I didn’t know where to start, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.’
My mother’s eyes roamed over the distant hills.
‘I have slowly learnt to live again,’ I said. ‘Chayim helped me so much. I suppose that’s why you noticed a connection between us. Mostly though, Yahweh helped me. I wasn’t sure how to talk to Him with Havel gone. Havel had always taken the lead; known what to pray and what to do. I was content living in his shadow, for indeed, it was no shadow at all but felt like permanent daylight.’
She turned to me and I caught a glimpse of something else – longing?
‘It took time to build my own connection with Yahweh,’ I continued. ‘I spent a while feeling like I was wandering. But Yahweh kept me safe, and He came to me when I eventually asked Him to. He has been my companion since then. Although I may never marry, at least I will have Yahweh. I am content.’
A smile tugged at one side of Ima’s mouth. ’I am glad for that. And what about Kayin?’
‘What of him?’ I asked with trepidation.
‘You said that you missed your brothers. You have only mentioned Havel.’
‘Oh, you heard that.’ I stared at the cloth in my hand. ‘I don’t know if I should speak about it.’
Ima sighed and dried her hands on her tunic. ’I fear that is also my fault. I haven’t spoken to you of Kayin since that day. I couldn’t process my feelings about what happened, so I tried to forget him. It was easier than coming to terms with what he did. But it didn’t work. The day your father had his outburst, it all hit me. Denying Kayin’s actions and pretending he hadn’t left had harmed us all.’
Tears prickled at my eyes. Perhaps in relief she had finally admitted it, perhaps something else.
Ima continued. ’While you were away from the hut that afternoon, your father and I grieved together for Kayin and wept for his sin. It was still raw when you returned, but things have grown easier since. I now feel able to talk about him again. So please, speak.’
I took a deep breath. ‘I loved him, Ima. I was aware of his flaws – which sometimes frightened me – but I still loved him… Like you, I didn’t know how to process what Kayin did. I needed to grieve for him, but I didn’t know how. And I was so angry! I still swing from being furious with him to feeling despair at my heart’s constant longing. Although time has settled the rawness of my emotions, no matter how much I pray against it, I am bitter he took my future away. Even so, I miss him.’
‘As do I, Awan,’ Ima said. ‘I had eighteen summers with Kayin before the rest of you were born. I loved him ferociously and would have defended him to the death. Yet, in the latter years, he never seemed to see that. He was always so far from us, as if some world existed in his mind that we weren’t part of…’
I sighed as Set nestled further into my arms. ‘I am trying not to be angry, Ima. I’m trying to lay it down before Yahweh, but I’m unsure how to do that. How can I forgive him when he’s not here to ask for forgiveness? I don’t know who he is anymore – if he is even alive. He turned out to be so different from the man I thought he was – the man I thought I loved. I hate that he took away my Havel; I hate the man who deceived me.’
‘Are you sure he was truly different? Or were those things we saw as broken as much a part of him as those things we loved?’
‘I could not love someone capable of murder, Ima!’ I protested.
‘Perhaps not. Yet how different was he from you or me? When Yahweh spoke at Kayin’s sacrifice, I suspect he felt like the ground he’d built his life on was pulled away from under him – for he based his worth on what he could grow, and his produce was rejected.
‘If someone took away what I find my purpose in, might I not be capable of the same? If Kayin had been anyone other than my son, I would have hunted him down for what he did to Havel. Sometimes, I wish I had. Because you children are the ground I build my life on, and having Havel taken away from me stole the earth from under my feet. You saw what it did to me.’
I had seen it – Ima, consumed by grief, unable to function for months after Havel’s death.
‘I suspect it comes down to trust. I struggle because I do not truly trust my life to Elohim. I try to lay it down, then I snatch it back again. I want to trust Elohim with you all too, but I continually fail. What are you holding back from Him, Awan?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose I do keep trying to take back the bitterness, but it is so hard not to when I cannot see Kayin; when I don’t know what truly happened. But surely it cannot be good to love Kayin still – to love evil, to love the things that make people wrong before Yahweh?’
‘To love evil?’ Ima shook her head. ‘No, of course not. But to love people even though they hold evil in their hearts? Yes, we must. For we are all the same, my love; we all hold evil in our hearts. We all struggle with sins – some are simply more obvious or destructive than others. I’m not sure that makes any of us better or worse, just different. We are all under the same judgement. We all need forgiveness.’
My body suddenly felt heavy, and I wanted to lie down. ‘I will consider what you have said, Ima. I don’t deny I need forgiveness also, and I shall examine my heart. Although I do not see how my lack of forgiveness for Kayin makes any difference.’
‘Perhaps not to him, for as you said, he is not here to receive it. But it may make a difference to you, child, and your future walk with Yahweh.’
I sighed. I was convinced that, even if Kayin lived, he had no place in my future: he was never coming back. Nevertheless, she did have a point about my suffering from bitterness. It weighed heavy like a stone in my gut and I wanted to expel it.
Whilst Kayin did not deserve forgiveness – I could never excuse what he had done – perhaps forgiving did not have to mean excusing the offence. Maybe it meant accepting that we were all guilty of something, and I was as undeserving of Elohim’s mercy as Kayin was.
Excerpt from The Wanderer Reborn © Natasha Woodcraft, 2022
Where Can I Purchase the Book?
You can buy paperbacks directly from our shop page here and internationally from all good retailers. The ebook is exclusive to Amazon.
The Wanderer Reborn is also available in a stunning Hardback Omnibus with The Wanderer Scorned here.
If you’d love this book to deepen your knowledge of the story of Cain and Abel, but you cannot afford it, we do run a bursary program. Please contact us to request a book.