Page 120 of Hometown Girl

Good. Rain was just what the ground needed.

A clean, fresh start would be good for them all.

She did a quick survey of the barn. They’d made so much progress. The new and improved Fairwind Farm Market would be a huge success. They might even open this fall. All thanks to Drew.

And she’d driven him away.

She trudged through the open field toward the little chapel at the back of the property, turning over unwanted thoughts in her mind.

Why hadn’t Drew just been honest from the start? Why couldn’t he have told her who he was instead of waiting until she’d found out, searching in the old man’s closet?

It was humiliating that he didn’t trust her when she’d shared so much with him.

Life had her head all turned around. What was she doing here? How couldthisbe the “more” she’d been looking for? How could an old run-down farm be her “why”?

Birdie was wrong. Beth didn’t belong here at all. She wasn’t a hometown girl.

Why am I here at all, Lord?

She unlocked the chapel with the little key above the door and went inside just as a rumble of thunder made its way across the vast midwestern sky. Beth closed the door and inhaled a deep, lonely breath.

Why had she come here? What did she hope to find waiting for her? Birdie’s words filled her mind:

“There’s something deep down within us, isn’t there, that just wants to be known?”

She sat with the memory for a moment.

Had she ever let anyone know her?

She’d been too afraid. All this time, she’d hidden the truth from her family the same way Drew had hidden it from her, because she didn’t want them to think less of her. She was ashamed, and she didn’t want to admit any of it to the people she’d hurt. But even before that—had she ever let anyone know her for who she really was?

I know you.

The words welled up from the depths of her soul.

You are known.

He knew her. He knew her and He loved her anyway.

“Having a ‘why’ isn’t the same as having something to prove.”

Birdie’s words echoed in her mind again.

“You can’t earn love. Or forgiveness. Or grace. Those things are gifts. You just have to reach out and take them.”

Beth opened the prayer journal and turned to the last page, where Sonya had written the most stirring prayer about her daughter, about the peace she’d found in spite of her circumstances. Beth had asked for that peace, and she supposed she’d expected God to wave a magic wand over her, granting her wish.

What if Birdie was right? What if peace and forgiveness and love really were gifts? What if God had been waiting for her to reach out and take them this whole time?

Could it really be that simple?

Beth stared at the blank page near the back of the journal. Did she even know how to accept something she hadn’t earned?

She picked up the pen tucked inside the worn book. Somehow, adding her own handwriting to this precious journal made her nervous. Like she didn’t deserve to be part of the group of women who’d already breathed their hearts’ desires onto its pages. She poised the pen over the paper.

Heavenly Father,

She’d start her prayer the same way the women before had started theirs. Had Sonya stopped at this point, taken a moment to breathe in the weight of her own prayers?

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