Page 51 of From Ice to Grace
His sentiment has a laugh tumbling from my lips. Because for the first time in my life, it’s one I can get behind.
“That’s true.” I might not know how God works, but I’ve always thought He’s just out there, watching it all play out. I’ve never felt like He would step in, or reach into our lives.
Why would he?
The world is a mess and the people in it, even messier.
“The way I see it is that God’s not the same in everyone’s lives.” He taps his fingers against his steering wheel, before he looks at me. “For some He’s loud, for others He shows up in the wind or the sunset. Or at church or a prayer walk.”
“And for you?” I ask.
He smiles. “For me, He shows up in the snow.” He casts a quick glance my way to see if I know what he’s talking about. Upon seeing my frown, he laughs. “You know, back home, in the middle of winter it gets so cold, so quiet, so white with snow…it’s just quiet. You don’t get that kind of quiet here. Here, there’s always noise. But back home when everything is covered in a thick blanket of snow…it’s like it muffles the world. It’s just peaceful. And clean. Pure. Nothing but a sheet of pure snow below your feet and pitch black sky spotted with stars above your head. That’s where I meet Him.”
I nod along, trying to think if there was ever a time when God showed up for me.
I come up empty.
He didn’t show up when I prayed with my Aunt in church that one time. He didn’t even show up later that night when I asked Him to help my dad after I had to pick him up off the floor. I tossed out all the bottles, cleaned the carpet and put him to bed…where I prayed for the first time on my own while he was lying there.
And the next day when I woke up my dad was halfway into a new bottle he had hidden in the garden shed.
God didn’t hear me.
After that, I didn’t try again.
Maybe God shows up for guys like Lindgren. For me, all He’s ever done is stay silent.
Brady slides his iPad across the table, the screen lit up with the headlines from the incident at the gala last night.
‘One woman not enough for Murphy?’
‘Murphy’s reputation on thin ice after season-opener gala’
‘Declan Murphy: Scores a hat trick…in dates’
“Well, I guess Jenn deserves a prize,” I say, sliding it back to him. “She guessed it right. First time scoring a hattie, that has to be something.” I try to make light of it, but even I can’t laugh off this mess.
“You’re making everything worse, bro.” Before Brady can take the iPad back, my little sister takes it from him and starts scrolling through the headlines with her bright pink nails, her brows rising with each passing second.
“That wasn’t planned,” I say in my defense. “None of it was planned.”
“One woman doesn’t seem to be enough for the defenseman of the New York Rangers,” Maddie reads, before taking a sip of her ridiculous coffee order that has ice, spice, and cream in a giant plastic container. “What should’ve been a season starting gala for all the top sponsors of the team, turned into a cat fight between Declan Murphy’s three girlfriends.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “What? One just doesn’t cover it?”
“I don’t have three girlfriends, Mads.” I run a hand over my face, wishing I didn’t have to keep saying this.
“I know you don’t,” she says, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photos. “But I’m hoping you’re considering making the platinum blonde in the gold dress your girlfriend. She looks like a viking princess.”
Avah.
“She has the personality of one,” I mumble. The thought of Avah’s eyes sparking with challenge has me shifting in my seat, covering a small smile.
“What’s that?” Maddie asks, narrowing her eyes while studying me.
“Nothing,” Brady says, taking the iPad from her. “Don’t encourage him, Maddie. The guy needs to get his head on straight.” He turns to me, his green eyes pinning me to my seat. “Declan, you can’t keep getting yourself into these situations. At some point you need to stop and evaluate. I don’t know…just think. Measure the pros and the cons. Don’t just jump in head first and then leave the mess to me to fix.”
I take a sip of my coffee, glaring at him and his sugarcoated insult.
