Page 71 of A Surefire Love
“That’s really sweet, Mercy.” And heartbreaking, because Mercy had never met her earthly father—neither sister even knew his name.
“My dad wouldn’t hear me scream.” Hadley folded her hands and twisted her arms as if to turn inside out. “He lives in Alabama.”
“I didn’t have a good dad either,” Blaze said. “He left when I was really little.” Should she leave it at that or share more? “Mercy’s right that the Bible calls God Father, but I think any of the things we compare Him to—like coaches or fathers—don’t fully express who He is. If He’s like any of those things, He’s also better than we can imagine. When webelieve in Him, He really does take care of us. Maybe not always the way we want Him to in the moment, but in the way that’s best for us.”
The girls fell silent, but their little smiles said they’d been listening. She resumed the pre-written questions. The boys finished up, and Blaze hurried to lead the closing prayer—she’d never gone longer than the boys’ group before. Maybe she was finally hitting her stride as a youth leader.
After her “amen,” the girls hopped up, and Blaze reached to get her purse from beneath her seat. When she straightened, someone bumped her arm.
Hadley. The girl had been seated across from her moments ago, but now she occupied the chair next to Blaze. “What if I want God to be my father too?”
Blaze almost choked on surprise and a fresh surge of insecurity.
“If you’re right that He’s better than any dad I can imagine, He’s the one I’ve always wanted.”
Blaze glanced at Anson. Should she hand this conversation over to him? But Anson had assigned the girls to her, and Hadley had sought her out.
Blaze cleared her throat. “You can ask Him to come into your life. You can trust Him with your heart and tell Him you want a relationship with Him. Want to pray with me to do that?”
Hadley nodded.
The youth room grew louder by the moment, but Blaze folded her hands and bowed her head with a reverence she hadn’t felt since her early days as a believer. For the minute she and Hadley prayed together, holy ground spreadbeneath them. Hadley wouldn’t be the only one walking away from this changed.
When Blaze opened her watery eyes, Hadley smothered her with a hug. As she returned the embrace, Blaze spotted Anson watching. She grinned and nodded, and when he dipped his head, she knew without a doubt that he was thanking God right along with her.
27
“What have you got there?” Anson slowed his steps beside Shirley Aaldenberg’s ancient sedan in the church parking lot. Through the windows, he saw her wrinkled hands tugging on a box that must weigh as much as the senior saint did.
The woman’s poof of white hair lifted, and her face appeared over the roof of the vehicle. “They’re candles for the Christmas Eve service. That warehouse store in Delft is closing. I got us a great deal.”
He grinned. “I bet you did.”
He circled the back of the car and hauled it out. He was already a few minutes late to the leadership board meeting, but letting Shirley deal with the candles alone would be the greater offense. He started for the building, and she scurried ahead to open the church door.
“Where are these going?” he asked.
“Wherever you think there’s space for them, as long as one of us remembers where they are come December.” She lifted a penciled eyebrow.
“How about the storage closet by the youth room? I use that closet all the time, so I’ll remember. And it’s a logical place to check, since we keep other decorations in there.”
“Perfect. Need me to get any more doors?”
“I’ve got it from here.” He made his way across the building.
He’d found no signs of the youth room visitor since installing the camera. Maybe the person had noticed the device and switched to using the closet again? That was where he’d first found the sleeping bag.
He flipped on the closet light with his elbow. No food, wrappers, clothing, or sleeping bags stood out. He stowed the candles and jogged across the building to the conference room.
The board had already moved through the opening prayer, approved the agenda, and was discussing the first line item—which keynote speaker to invite for a conference in spring. Anson took a seat at the foot of the table, drawing glances from the six others in the room.
As the last item was resolved an hour and a half later, Anson folded his agenda and waited for Pastor Greg to begin the closing prayer.
Instead, Eric sat forward in his seat. “I’d like to hear an update about the youth group initiative. When we first discussed this, the youth groups were expecting eight to ten students. My understanding is the groups haven’t even seen a fifty percent increase over that, let alone doubling. You’re averaging maybe eleven? Twelve?”
Anson unfolded his agenda and reread the line items.
George Pelle, a retired businessman, spoke up. “We voted to add this topic at the start of the meeting.”
