Page 71 of Someone Like You
People want to be seen. It can change a person’s life.
Louise and Larry agreed. After talking about it, they had gone to YouWereSeen.com and for a few dollars they had ordered twenty Seen cards. Cards that had the power to make a stranger feel special. A bit of paper that would direct them to God. The goal was to carry the cards in a purse or wallet, then hand them out to people who served. A waiter or waitress, a barista, or someone cleaning a public restroom.
The movement encouraged people to tip big. Generously. As if life were one exciting mission trip. Hand out the cards and thank a stranger. Tell them they were seen. Really seen. Then point them to the website, where they would be reminded that God sees them every day.
She could hardly wait for the cards to arrive.
Louise wiped at an errant tear. Crying was okay. Necessary even. She and Larry had lost much. But the Seen Movement was about to give them something to look forward to. A reason to leave the house.
“People save up for mission trips all the time,” Louise’s friend had told her. “What if you used that money right here. In your daily life.”
She could already imagine the divine appointments just ahead.
In the meantime, she’d heard from Maddie. She was back safely where she belonged, with the parents who had raised her. She was home. And so was London, just in a different way.
“God … tell my precious girl I miss her.” Louise’s voice was barely a whisper as she looked out the window at the mountains behind her house. “I miss her so much.”
Then as she’d done a thousand times since London’s passing, Louise asked God if London might have a window. So she could see how Louise and Larry were doing and so she could pray for them. So that one day, when their time on earth was up, London would be there on that distant golden road.
The first one to greet them.
DAWSON WAS LEAVINGin a few hours. His things were already on a moving van headed for storage until he could buy a house. But first he had one place to visit.
He drove north on the I-5 Freeway and thought about the past few weeks. The change had come quickly, but it was the right thing. The move had actually been his dad’s idea. For a while he’d been looking for the next best city, the place where their development company might take off.
Now—for a number of reasons—Dawson and his father were both sure. This was the right thing. And sometime in the next year or so, his dad had even talked about selling the Portland office and moving across country to be with Dawson.
“After all,” his dad had told him earlier today. “Life is short. Nothing’s more important than Jesus and family.” He patted Dawson on the shoulder. “I love you, Son.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
The two had shared a long hug, and then Dawson had walked out the door. A new chapter ahead.
Dawson took the next exit and wound his way up the road and into the cemetery. Another hill and he was there. At London’s grave. He left his truck and moved to the spot right in front of her tombstone. Last time he was here, Maddie had been with him.
But this was different. He couldn’t leave Portland without stopping here first. It might be the last time he’d have the chance. A memory came to mind. The police officer, Jag, who had helped him in the minutes after London’s accident. Dawson still had no idea how the man had known his name or London’s. But he had been right about something else he had said.
She’s okay. Jesus has her now.
Jesus definitely had London now. She was with Him. That’s what the guy had said before he seemed to disappear from the area, and it was true. She was with Jesus. So she was really and truly okay.
For a while Dawson only stared at her grave.Oh, London … I wish you were still here.He pictured her, fun-loving, wild London, her dark hair flying behind her out on the water. Since meeting Maddie, Dawson was sure of something. London had never been the one for him. The girl he had been drawn to for so many years was right that night at Disneyland when she told him not to fall in love with her.
No matter their chemistry, the two of them had been wrong for each other.
Sure, maybe if she hadn’t stepped in front of that pickup, their conversation might’ve led them to a changed relationship. He would never know. But the girl London was when she was alive was not a girl he would’ve dated. They were too different.
He had wanted her loyalty and faithfulness, her presence beside him at church on Sunday. That wasn’t London, yet still he had been in love with her year after year. He loved her even now. He always would. But her death had started a spiral of events that had led him to a girl who was so much better for him. A girl who was everything he had ever hoped for.
Maddie West.
Dawson took a slow, deep breath. He stooped down and traced his finger over London’s name. “I miss you, friend.”
He couldn’t talk to her. Death didn’t work like that.But Dawson knew the One who could. With his hand spread out on her tombstone, Dawson let the words come. “Lord … tell her how much I love her. How much we all love her.”
Wind whistled through the far-off pines. Dawson felt the slightest sad smile inch up his face. He remembered then what London had said in her final minutes. She had a sister, she told them. She had somehow known.
A chill ran down Dawson’s arms. How good was God to let London grasp that, even for only a brief moment.
