Chasing Hope (24 page)

S
o why is it you like this movie so much? It doesn’t look all that exciting to me.” Brandy held the DVD case at arm’s length, as if afraid of standing too close.

“It was kind of
my
movie when I was growing up. Until . . . well, until it wasn’t anymore.”

“Why did it change? Because of your arthritis?”

“Yes. No. Sort of.” Truth was, Sabrina wasn’t sure of all the reasons. It had just become too painful to watch.

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

“I guess so.” Sabrina laughed and put the disc into the DVD player.

Two hours later, Brandy said, “That was pretty good, I guess.” She stuck some popcorn in her mouth but couldn’t quite hide her smile.

Sabrina wiped her eyes. “It’s only the best movie ever. That’s all.”

“I mean, I get it, it’s about running and all, and the characters are interesting enough. What hits you so hard about it?”

Sabrina thought about what the true answer might be. “It’s just that I always thought I was going to be a runner and then do work that really changed people’s lives.”

“Like that Eric Liddell guy?”

“Exactly.”

Brandy shook her head. “It seems like an odd combination to me. I doubt there are many Olympian missionaries. Why did you have to give up both?”

Brandy’s question sounded more than a little like the ones Sabrina had heard from her mother. They never ceased to sting. “The two things had always been lumped together into one big dream in what I understood to be my call. It was the running that gave me the . . . I don’t know . . . clout, maybe, to do something really special.”

“Because you would be a hero, people would listen to you?”

“I guess so.”

“And Eric Liddell was a hero because he won a gold medal?”

“To a lot of people, yes. They came to hear him when they wouldn’t have given most speakers the time of day.”

“You know, for someone with such good grades, you’re not very smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Seems to me this Eric Liddell person didn’t succeed in exactly the way he thought he would. Seems to me what makes a hero is someone who gets knocked down but gets back up and looks for what it is they’re supposed to be doing now that things didn’t work out quite like they planned.

“And to be perfectly honest, while I think Olympic athletes—and especially runners—are totally cool and all, I can’t think of a better hero than someone who has been through all you have
and come through the other end bigger and stronger. Like you keep doing. And then you put all that aside and pour all your time into helping someone like me.

“If it’s the hero part that’s holding you back from being the missionary you always wanted to be, then I think you’ve missed the fact that you already are one.”

Monday morning, Sabrina woke up with Brandy’s words still ringing through her mind, as they had been since Saturday night.

She picked up her phone and pressed the numbers. “Good morning, this is Sabrina Rice. May I please speak with Candace Davenport?”

“I’ll see if she is available. Just one moment, please.” Violin music filled the phone line, but it did nothing to calm Sabrina’s nerves.

“Sabrina. So good to hear from you, as I was planning to call you later today. Listen, good news. After the last round of interviews, we have decided to make you a firm offer for the intern position. You wowed us on the second interview and we know how hard that must have been with your recent health concerns. With that kind of perseverance and drive, I expect nothing but good things from you.”

The job was hers! Sabrina hadn’t expected to hear those words when she called. She hesitated, her conviction suddenly less firm than it had been only moments ago. “Uh, well thank you so much for saying that, Candace. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I know you’ve gone out of your way to help me.”

“I expect repayment in full, because I see lots of potential in you.”

Potential. Recent health concerns. So they did know about her hospitalization. “Listen, I’ve been thinking a lot about that in the last few days. My potential. And I’ve come to the conclusion that . . .” The words froze in her throat. The clear answer was suddenly so foggy in her mind. Was she crazy? What would make her even consider doing what she was thinking of doing? “I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no need for you to hold that position for me. I think my path lies in a different direction.”

The silence lasted long enough that Sabrina had begun to wonder if they’d been cut off. “What?” Candace almost whispered the word. “But I thought you were so committed.”

“I was. And I am. I’ve just come to realize that I didn’t want to commit to the wrong thing. Once again, I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
I hope I’m doing the right thing, I hope I’m doing the right thing.

“Sabrina, I want you to really think about this before we end this phone call. After that, if you change your mind you will not get a second chance. This is it.”

Deep breath. Move forward. “I know. And I don’t expect to.”

“You’re making a mistake, but I wish you all the best.” A click sounded on the other end of the line, and just like that it was over.

Sabrina reached in the drawer for the phone book because she had one more call to make. She punched in the numbers and waited until a receptionist’s voice came on the line. “Yes, I’d like to make an appointment to speak with Judge McGuire.” It was time to shut down Mrs. Lauderdale and her threatening phone calls once and for all.

T
WO
MONTHS
LATER

The front porch at Mrs. Springer’s house looked the same as it always had—a couple of wicker chairs, a small round table, and off to the right, a porch swing suspended by long chains. Yet, Brandy realized as she walked up to it, this place
felt
different now.

The first time she’d come up here, it had been against her will to have dinner with one of Grandma’s friends and her snobby granddaughter. In times after that, it had been a place where her overly demanding coach would disappear after doling out Brandy’s workload for the day. Then it became a place of hope. A place where maybe, just maybe, there was the slightest glimpse of some sort of bright future waiting for her.

Now, as Brandy reached up to knock on the door, the place seemed full of strength. She doubted Sabrina saw it for what it was, but it could be nothing else.

Mrs. Springer opened the door. “Hello, Brandy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Springer. I’ve got a graduation present for Sabrina I
wanted to bring by.” Brandy extended the wrapped box, somehow feeling as though she had to prove her words.

“Come on in. Sabrina and her mom are upstairs packing up her stuff. I know she’d love to see you.”

Brandy climbed the stairs to Sabrina’s room and found the door was open. Cookie was standing at the closet, door open, holding up a handful of shirts on hangers. “What about these?”

“Uh, sure.” Sabrina was sitting at the little wooden desk near the window, loading some books into a box at her feet.

“Hi.” Brandy walked up to the doorway, wondering if maybe it had been a mistake to come over.

“Hi, Brandy. Come on in.” Sabrina wiped her forehead. “How was your run this morning?”

“Good. I did a long one out toward the old Stewart place. Nice day, lots of flowers, cows mooing, the usual.”

“You are working so hard. I think you are going to be amazing.” Cookie held up a couple of shirts. “Keep?”

“Sure.” Sabrina nodded. “She already is.” She spoke the words quietly, but with clear conviction in her voice.

“What did you say, dear?” Cookie looked up at her.

“I said she already is. Amazing.” Sabrina smiled toward Brandy now, who had never felt more unworthy in her life.

She shook her head and walked over and sank down onto the bed. “This is wrong. So much of this is so wrong. It should have been you.”

The words hung in the silent room for what seemed like forever. Finally Cookie said, “I’ve heard rumors that there are several college coaches following your progress. I am so proud of you.” Cookie said this as she laid out some shirts on the bed, beside an already foot-high pile of other clothes on hangers. “Do you have any thoughts about where you’d like to go?”

“I’m hoping for Tennessee. I’d like to finish what Sabrina started.”

Cookie came over and put her arms around Brandy, squeezing her tight. “You really are an amazing girl.” She pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “I’m going downstairs to check Mom’s progress with dinner. Brandy, can you join us?”

“No, thanks. Grandma was in the middle of making a big pot of chicken and dumplings when I left.”

“That sounds good.” Cookie sniffled as she disappeared out the door.

“When do you start work for Bridges?”

“Next week. I’m spending a couple of weeks in California at their main office, then they’re sending me to Africa for three weeks so I can experience the work there firsthand. This is not my original plan, or at least not the way I thought my original plan would play out. But I’ve come to realize this was my ‘promised land’ all along. I was just expecting the journey to look a little different so I kept turning back.”

“Those are some lucky orphans, to have you on their side.”

“Not lucky. Blessed.”

“Yes, blessed. We all are, because of you. Because you fought your way through your wilderness, as you call it, and didn’t give up.”

“I came close a few times, but I’m glad God didn’t give up on me.”

“So am I. So am I.”

She was running.

Feet pounding against the pavement as she moved up a steep hill. She could hear her coach’s voice yelling down toward her, “Surge. Surge.” She paid attention to the lift of her knees, the straight pump of her arms, and the position of her head.
Form
matters most when you’re tired. Concentrate. Now’s when champions are made.
She repeated those words over and over in her head as she made her way to the top of the hill, which she couldn’t quite see because it was covered in fog. Still, she pushed to the end, knowing as she reached the top that she’d given it everything she had.

As she broke through the fog layer, she looked toward her coach, hoping for confirmation that she’d done well, already smiling because she knew that she had. And then she saw her coach’s face and stopped running.

The woman she saw . . . was Brandy. She was surrounded by an entire group of African orphans who were all smiling, and clapping, and dancing with joy. “You made it, you did it!” They were all shouting and singing at once.

Then
he
stepped from the crowd. Sabrina would know his face anywhere. He came up to her, took her hand, and shook it hard. “I’m so proud of you. You gave it everything you had. Way to stick with it, even when times got hard, even when you wanted to quit. Well done.” And just like that, Eric Liddell vanished into the mist.

Sabrina jerked awake, her heart pounding, her breath coming in short gasps. But this time, she wasn’t drenched in sweat and tears. This time she was . . . smiling.

Thank you, dear Father. Thank you.