A Test of Faith (30 page)

That was one of the things Faith liked best about her.

Too bad Ethel wasn’t home tonight. What’s more, there wasn’t anything worth watching on TV. The thought of spending another night alone in her small apartment had been more than she could bear. Since the tiny town all but closed up by six every evening, that left few options for nightlife. Bingo. Church. Taking a walk.

So Faith was taking a walk.

You should have gone with Ethel
.

Faith shook the thought away. She liked Ethel. A lot. The woman reminded her of—well, anyway, she liked her. Tonight, as they shut down the diner, Ethel had asked her—for the kazillionth time—if she wanted to go to church with her. It wasn’t even Sunday, and the woman was going to church. Again. Faith’s answer was always the same: “God hasn’t had any use for me in a long time. Or me for Him. Pass.”

The first time she’d said that to Ethel, she’d braced herself for a lecture. Instead, the big woman busted into laughter. “Got no use for you. Now there’s one I haven’t heard.” She shook her head, her hairnet dancing to keep the woman’s wild curls contained. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, hon, if it helps.”

Now when she asked Faith to go to church, she’d say, “Got any use for Him yet?” When Faith said no, she’d grin. Her parting shot was always the same: “The day’s comin’, child. I can feel it.”

Faith couldn’t hold back a grin of her own. Ethel was tough as nails on the outside, but inside, she was a big ol’ marshmallow.

A blast of cold wind slapped Faith in the face, snatching her breath. She hunched her shoulders to her ears and shoved her hands even deeper into her pockets. She’d been in Illinois for a year, and she still couldn’t get used to it being cold for so long. It was almost Easter, for cryin’ out loud!

At home, the fruit trees would be blooming, and temperatures would be easing their way past the sixties and into the seventies—maybe even the eighties. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see the blue sky, the clouds drifting past the mountains on all sides of the valley. She could even hear her mom and dad tease each other as they worked in the flower garden.

The sudden tightness in her throat took Faith by surprise. She had to swallow several times to dislodge the tears hanging there. She shook her head at the unfamiliar sensation. She hadn’t cried in a long time. Not since that morning she woke up to find Dustin gone.

Great. It wasn’t bad enough she had to think about home, about Mom and Dad, now she was thinking about Dustin again. Why was it that everyone who mattered in her life couldn’t stand to be around … around …?

She frowned. What
was
that sound?

Cocking her head, she could just make out the strains of piano music. She looked up and down the street, finally spotting a glow of light at the north end. She walked toward it, her steps slowing when she realized what stood there.

A church. Ethel’s church, to be exact.

Faith hesitated. The piano music tugged at her, coaxing her to come closer. She gave in, at least until she was at the bottom of the outside steps. But that was it. The thought of going up those stairs, in that open door…

She shivered again, and it had nothing to do with the cold. She’d walked away from all of this a long time ago. Long before she left home. No way she was going back now, because she was a little homesick and lonely.

Is that the only reason?

“Shut up.” Faith started, looking around to see if anyone overheard her fierce whisper. Good. She was alone. Better get out of here before someone saw her. But as she turned to walk away, someone started singing. A young girl, from the sound of it. But the voice, as pretty as it was, wasn’t what stopped Faith cold.

It was the words. The words of the song, drifting to her on the night breeze.

She knew this song.

Knew it as well as she knew anything. And suddenly, listening to those words she once loved, the tightness was back in her throat. Her heart pounded, and before she could stop herself, she turned and made her way up the stairs. Walked in the doorway. Through the small entryway.

Right into the main church area, where people sat in the pews, listening as a teenager stood up front, singing the song through again. A girl not much younger than she was.

A girl who sang the words as though she really truly meant them.

“Shepherd of Love, You knew that I’d lost my way. Shepherd of Love, You cared that I’d gone astray.”

Faith had to swallow hard and fast now. No way she was going to cry all over herself, and in a church no less! She wanted to run from the building, but her feet wouldn’t budge. It was as though the song had her riveted in place.

“You sought and found me, placed around me, strong arms that carried me home.”

Faith closed her eyes and could almost feel those strong arms. No amount of swallowing worked at the thought, and tears seeped past her lids, down her face.

“No foe can harm me or alarm me, never again will I roam.”

What would that be like? To stop roaming? Stop wandering, looking for someplace to belong? What would it be like to find a place where they really accepted you? Loved you?

The ache in Faith’s heart was so sharp she almost cried out.
I want that. God, please, I want that
.

“Shepherd of Love, Savior and Lord and Guide …”

Each word struck her heart, taking away her breath.

Savior
. She’d accepted Him as such when she was small. Then again that summer at camp. She’d known it was real, that He was real. So what had happened?

Lord
. Ah, that was it. She knew Him as Savior, but Lord? No one had been her Lord. Not ever. No one told her what to do. She was her own boss, her own lord—

“And that’s working for you, is it?”

Ethel’s question struck home, and she reached out to grab the pew beside her, steadying herself. Working for her? Images of Trista and Dustin flitted through her mind. Of those months on the street. Of sleeping in the cold, always half awake so you could hear if someone came toward you—

No. No, it wasn’t working. Not at all.

And Guide
.

A sob escaped her. She was so tired. She wanted someone else to make the decisions. To tell her how to get where she wanted to go.

Where do you want to go, Faith?

The question resonated within her, full of tenderness,
understanding. She suddenly knew the answer. Without a doubt. “I want to go home.”

“Well, it’s about time.”

Faith’s eyes flew open. Ethel stood there, that grin on her face. She took Faith by the shoulders, pulling her into a soft, comforting embrace. Faith buried her face in the woman’s ample bosom.

“The day come, didn’t it, girl?”

Faith could only nod.

Murmurs of “Praise God,” and applause sounded around them, and Faith peeked out over Ethel’s arms. They were surrounded by the people who’d been seated in the pews. Even the young singer was there, smiling at them.

Faith blinked and pulled back, then fixed Ethel with a pointed stare. “Did you plan this?”

Ethel’s laughter boomed though the room. “Oh, no, honey. That was God’s doin’. I was sitting here, minding my own business, when you came walking in.” Her eyes softened, and she cupped Faith’s cheek. “I could tell by the look on your face that the Holy Spirit was working on you something fierce.”

The smile Faith managed was shaky but genuine, nonetheless. “Yeah, He was.”

“And haven’t we all been prayin’ for that?” Ethel’s nod took in the people standing around them.

Faith’s mouth fell open. “You … you’ve all been praying for me?”

“At every service.” This from the girl who’d sung the song.

Faith turned to her. “How did you know?” At the girl’s slight frown, she waved toward the front of the church. “How did you know to sing that song?”

“ ‘Shepherd of Love’?” The girl smiled. “I sing it every year at the Ash Wednesday service.” She reached out and took the hand of a woman standing beside her. “It’s my mom’s favorite.”

Faith’s laughter was tinged with tears. God didn’t miss a trick. “Yeah … my mom’s, too.”

“So what do you say, Faith?” Ethel took her hand. “You ready to make a phone call?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

The people around them broke into cheers. Ethel’s grin broadened as she slid her arm around Faith’s shoulders. “You’ll have to forgive them, kiddo. They just love seeing miracles up close and personal.” She nudged Faith. “Better’n anything on that ol’ TV any day!”

“About ready for bed, hon?”

Anne looked up from her reading and smiled at Jared. “Just about. You go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He leaned down to kiss her, then paused, his gaze holding hers. “I love you, Annie.”

She touched his cheek. “I love you, too.”

He was on his way out of the room when the phone rang. Frowning, he glanced at the clock. “Who’d be calling this late?”

Anne shrugged and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

When silence met her greeting, Anne looked at Jared. He came toward her.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Jared held out his hand. “Probably some kids. Let me take it.”

Anne held the receiver out to him, just as someone spoke.

She froze. That voice! It
couldn’t
be.

Eyes fixed on Jared, Anne jerked the receiver back to her ear. When she spoke again, her voice was hushed. “Hello?”

“Mom? I–Mom, it’s Faith.”

She wanted to say something, to tell Faith how much she loved her, but no words would form on her frozen tongue.

“Annie?”

She held out a trembling hand, and Jared took it.

“Mom? Are you there?”

“Yes!” The word almost exploded, and Anne half laughed, half sobbed. “Oh, yes, Faith. I’m here.” Jared’s eyes widened, and he sat next to her. Anne held the receiver between them. “So is your father.”

With that, Faith started to cry. Wrenching sobs came across the lines, and Anne and Jared poured out their love,
their forgiveness. Anne wanted to ask questions, to know where Faith was, if she was all right, but now wasn’t the time. All she wanted to do right now was tell her daughter she loved her.

When Faith was able to speak again, she asked a question that made Annie’s heart sing: “Mom, do you … do you think I could …?”

“Come home, sweetheart.”

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.” The joy in Faith’s voice almost sang through the telephone lines.

“We love you, too.”

Jared took the receiver from Anne and hung up. Then he opened his arms and Anne fell into them. They held each other, weeping and praising the One who had found their little girl.

And was, at long last, sending her home.

twenty-two

FAITH PULLED HER CAR INTO THE DRIVEWAY AND
threw it into park. Shoving the door open, she raced through the garage, into the house.

“Mom!” She tossed her purse on the couch as she flew through the living room.
“Mom!”

“Outside, sweetie.”

She hurried through the kitchen, pulling open the sliding glass door, and flinging herself out into the garden where her mother was on her knees. “I got a job!”

Faith grabbed her mom’s hands and pulled her to her feet. She danced her around in circles. “I got a job! I got a job!”

Mom’s laughter came in gasps, and Faith stopped their dance of joy, sudden alarm tingling inside her. “You okay, Mom?”

“I will be, once I catch my breath.”

Faith ran to grab a lawn chair and brought it over for her mom. Her mom lowered herself into it, smiling up at Faith as she did so. “Now, tell me all about it.”

Plopping down on the ground, Faith leaned against her mom’s
knee. “It’s as a lifeguard at the YMCA. Dad told me about an opening there, and I got it! I work during the day, teaching swim classes, then on the weekends during the free swims. And this fall when I start college, I can work my schedule around my classes.” She hugged her mom’s knees. “It’s going to be so much fun. Even if I will be older than all the other freshmen.”

Her mom stroked Faith’s hair. “Not that much older, sweetie. Twenty-one is hardly ancient. So you’re only two or three years older.”

“Yeah, it just
feels
like ten years.”

Mom understood. “That’s the wonderful thing about second chances, Faith. What you learned in the hard times makes you stronger. And wiser.”

“I hope so, Mom. I really hope so.”

“I’m proud of you, sweetie. I know you’ll be wonderful.”

Faith smiled. God was so good! In the year since she’d come home, He’d walked with her through so many changes. He’d helped her get her GED, so she could go to college. And he’d helped her relationship with her parents grow stronger than ever. It felt so good to be able to talk and laugh with them.

And to pray with them.

If there was one thing her mother was good at, it was praying.

When Faith had commented on it, Anne said, “That’s because I had so much practice while you were gone.” The fact that her mom could say such a thing with a warm smile was even more proof that God was real and at work.