Page 45 of When We Were Young
That was all he could take, so he walked away. Went to his room at the back of the house, turned off the lights and went to sleep.
In the morning he found a minute alone with Emily while Clara was gathering her things for school. “Hey.” He touched her elbow. “I’m sorry. About last night.”
She was filling her backpack with homework and notebooks. At the feel of his touch, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes were cloudy with remorse. “It was my fault. I... I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
He wanted to scream at her, tell her of course it wasn’t her fault. They both had been dying to kiss each other for two whole years. But that would get them nowhere, so he only smiled and nodded. “Okay, then.” He moved to the door. “Let’s just keep it at that.”
Which was what they did for the next few weeks, until Noah got clearance once more to return to his dorm. This time all the world knew for sure that Noah Carter was finished with football. He had to be. But there was a blessing that came with his second concussion.
It was on the opposite side of his brain.
That meant he was no worse off than he’d been before. The only difference was that now both sides of his brain were more vulnerable than they’d been before the concussions. His new doctor called it a stroke of luck.
Noah called it an answer to prayer.
All along he had known Emily and Clara were talking to God about him. It wasn’t something they shared about much. But Noah knew. And after surviving his second concussion, he started to wonder if there might be something to the whole idea of praying.
Noah had certainly been raised with the idea, living in Nashville. Tennessee wasn’t just in the Bible Belt. It was the buckle. Christian music played in the post office and while he sat in the dentist’s chair. There was literally a church on every corner. The joke among his friends had always been that if you gave directions you could never say, “Near the church on the corner.” You had to specify which church.
Because most busy corners had more than one.
Noah had even attended a private Christian school—Christ Presbyterian Academy. The administration and teachers at CPA loved God and they definitely loved the kids. Noah was a standout student athlete, lettering in football, track and baseball. But believing in God didn’t really matter to him. Yes, he sang the songs at chapel and knew the answers in Bible class. Maybe he believed. He wasn’t sure. So Noah went along with the routine, thinking nothing of it. But one chapel stood out in Noah’s memory. The idea that Jesus calls His followers to let go of self and live for Him. He didn’t mind theideaof God, butlivingfor God?
That was the last thing Noah Carter intended to do.
After graduation, Noah took a final look at the football field and his old high school, and then he drove off. As soon as he left campus and made the right turn on Old Hickory Boulevard, he put thoughts about God behind him. His parents moved to London the next week and he was on his own.
Living for Noah Carter. Not God.
Noah had his own plans, his own ideas. He was headed to Indiana University on a full-ride scholarship. There he would tear up in football and one day get drafted by the NFL.
Still, flash forward two years, after that second concussion, when he had been lying in Emily and Clara’s darkened back bedroom trying to remember what day it was, and thoughts of God came back to him. He could picture himself—that confident kid leaving CPA, so sure he would live life on his own terms.
But there he was, his future hanging in the balance.
One evening Clara had come to him. She opened the door and used her crutches to make her way to his bed. Then she smiled down at him and said just two words. “I prayed.”
Noah looked at her. “Thank you.” Every word still hurt his head at that point. But long after she left the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. So did that mean God was looking out for him, that maybe He was waiting for Noah to think about Him again? About whether He was real and if He was, what that might mean for Noah?
Not until he had moved back into his dorm did he meet Emily one afternoon. By then it had been two weeks since their kiss. Noah looked intently at her. “I have a question.”
Emily seemed unsure about what was coming, but the two of them found a picnic table in a shady corner. They sat down on the same side and faced each other. She looked deep into his eyes. “I’m listening.”
“You and Clara, you believe in God.”
“Yes.” She raised her brow, like she was surprised this was what he wanted to talk about. “You know that.”
He felt restless, like he wouldn’t be at peace until he could make sense of this. “Tell me something, Emily.” His gaze grew more intense. “Why?” He stood and walked to a nearby tree. Then he turned and looked at her again. “Why believe?” He tossed his hands and let them fall again. “Your dad walked out when you were ten. And then your mother dies in a flash flood.” He hesitated. “Does that seem like the work of a loving God?”
Emily’s face grew more patient and kind with every few words Noah spoke. She waited until he was finished. “God didn’t do those things to my parents.”
No question she believed what she was saying. He crossed his arms. “You don’t think He could’ve made your dad stay... or kept your mom alive?” He thought for a moment. “He definitely could’ve kept Clara from having cerebral palsy.”
His statements sounded harsh, even to him, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know what she thought, why she still believed in God after all she’d been through. All Clara had been through.
Emily didn’t say anything at first, just patted the spot beside her. “Come here, Noah. So you can hear me.” She put her hand over her heart. “Really hear me.”
He did as she asked, and when she took hold of his hand, he didn’t pull away. “This is a fallen world.” She looked to the depths of his soul. “Everything’s broken. Everyone.” She took her time, as if she really wanted him to hear this part. “Jesus is not the reason that bad things happen. He’s the Comforter. The One who comes alongside us in the most difficult times.”
