THE STEEPLE LOOMED over Kaylan’s head as she carried a box of bottled water across the church parking lot. Her heart churned. She hadn’t felt the urge to pray this strongly since the earthquake, since Sarah Beth had died. Nick weighed on her mind—and had since his departure three weeks earlier. She knew she needed to pray for him, but she and God weren’t on speaking terms. It wasn’t so much that she was still mad. Her anger had fizzled after weeks of waking every day to life without Sarah Beth. But the pain and longing remained for their daily friendship.
The urge to pray for Nick grew. The longer she waited, the more overpowering the need. What was wrong? Surely God wouldn’t take him too. Sarah Beth’s death had beaten her. If Nick was hurt, it would finish her off. She fought the need to pray. It was just her frazzled emotions.
“Kaylan, are you all right?”
Kaylan started, shifting the box in her arms as she ran into Mrs. Helms at the main doors. “Yes, Mrs. Helms. Fine. Just taking these things to the storage closet.”
“Okay, then I’ll see you in church Sunday.” Mrs. Helms waved as she headed to her car.
Kaylan trudged inside the church and headed for the storage closet. It hadn’t taken long after her talk with Mrs. Tucker for Kaylan to find something to do. Rhonda had called, and her blunt manner and dedication had finally roused Kaylan to find some way to help from the States. The moment she began working on Haiti relief, life took on a clearer focus—still fuzzy around the edges, yes, but at least she had made some progress.
The Pantry Project, Kaylan’s idea, was well underway at the church. So far, two truckloads of supplies had been collected for Haiti relief. Kaylan slid the box onto a shelf, then stood back to survey the pantry. Almost full. Collecting the food had been the easy part. The hardest part of the project had been the comments she had to endure.
“Kaylan, dear, I’m so sorry to hear what happened.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“Keep your chin up. It will get better.”
“I’m here for you.”
“Sarah Beth would want you to get on with your life.”
“I was devastated when my dog died. I understand what you’re going through.” It took all of Kaylan’s control not to reply with an ugly retort and well-placed shove at this comment. Seth had taught her how to tackle, and she strongly considered using her skills.
Kaylan took the comments in silence, thinking of ways she and Sarah Beth would have laughed and joked about the pitiful attempts at consolation.
She couldn’t be in Haiti, but she could help in this small way. She hoped transportation on the ground in Haiti was better than when she had left. Reporters had arrived in the city while supplies sat on tarmacs unattended and forgotten. She touched a box of bottled water, thinking of the dusty faces after the quake, of haunted, dark eyes with no hope.
After the quake she’d coped by helping every victim. Everyone had been Sarah Beth. She’d seen her blue eyes, her pink lips, hair she’d braided, lives she’d touched. She thought if this one was saved, then Sarah Beth would be all right. It never came true.
Raising support and aiding the relief efforts was the equivalent. She felt Sarah Beth again; her hands helped Kaylan stack goods and box water bottles. She made jokes inside Kaylan’s thoughts as Kaylan packed medicine and mangled the medical terms.
Kaylan ran her fingers over the smooth cardboard of one box. “I miss you, Bubbles. You should be here.”
Another project came to mind from the year before. Sarah Beth had organized a food drive for low-income families in Tuscaloosa. During the summer months many students went hungry because school meals were no longer provided. Sarah Beth was determined to avoid this. Community members had donated canned goods, pasta, and fun drinks. Sarah Beth had been ecstatic.
“Can you believe this, Kayles? It’s amazing! It actually worked.”
“Well, you are quite persuasive, Bubbles. Who would tell those big, blue eyes, ‘no’?”
“Good point. I might as well use them to my advantage.”
Kaylan shoved her, laughing.
“Seriously, Kayles, this is a total God thing.” They packed boxes of food while they talked. “I mean, some of these kids don’t think anyone loves them or cares. This brings them hope.”
Kaylan picked up a box. “They’ll never forget this.”
Sarah Beth slapped another Bible verse into the finished box. “It’s like we’re being His hands and feet, you know? I mean, we can share the gospel all we want, but when it’s not accompanied by this, meeting needs, how can we be effective? How can we truly show them that Jesus loves them?”
“Hands and feet of Jesus.” Her voice broke the silence, and she sank into the corner of the closet. “The people in Haiti are hopeless. This won’t even make a dent in the problems.”
No, but it helps one. The answer whispered across the dark recesses of her soul, and she inhaled sharply. She hadn’t felt that in months. Peace. She remembered Rhonda’s coaching in Haiti after they’d lost a baby. Kaylan had been devastated and angry, much like now.
“Kaylan, how do you finish a test?”
“One question at a time.”
Rhonda’s voice lowered to a whisper, burning with passion. “Kaylan, how do you change a country?”
Recognition dawned in Kaylan. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “One life at a time.”
“One life at a time, we will see Haiti changed. One mother understanding the intricacies of the life within her, one child knowing the love of two parents and a full belly, one father knowing how to provide for his family. One by one.”
The urge hounded her again: to pray for Nick, to pray for Haiti, to find her way back, but she wasn’t ready. She imagined Nick’s blue eyes and strong presence. Her head pounded, and she closed her eyes, thankful for the cool, quiet recess. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
She forced the words out of her mouth, breaking the stillness. “Lord, I know I haven’t spoken to You in a while, but I think something’s wrong with Nick. Whatever it is, please keep him safe. Don’t take him away from me. I can’t bear any more.”
She hugged her legs and rested her forehead on her knees, remembering what she had felt after the earthquake, waiting for Sarah Beth to die, praying she wouldn’t. She rocked back and forth. She couldn’t take anymore. Darkness crept in, but panic didn’t follow. Instead, she felt a warm, unexplainable feeling course through her body and mind. Peace.
Pap lumbered down the sidewalk, leaning on the cane. Kaylan grasped his other arm and prayed he wouldn’t fall. He had wanted to come outside, breathe fresh air and soak in the later winter sunshine. “Maybe we should go inside, Pap. It’s kind of cold out here.” After dropping off the supplies at the pantry, Kaylan had decided to drop in on her grandparents. Gran was off grocery shopping, but Pap welcomed the visit. He had slowed down since his mild stroke, but he refused to acknowledge it.
“I’m old, but I’m not dead. I’m gonna die moving, although I don’t plan on doing that today. Now, quit your yapping and let me enjoy my walk.”
“I don’t get it. Why do you push yourself so hard?”
“Soon as you stop trying, you stop living.” Pap stared into her eyes, and she refused to look away. The snake that had reared its ugly head the last time they had visited the stables lay dormant. Kaylan wanted to try. She wanted to live. The bitterness, the anger, the pain—they were eating her alive. She wanted, no needed, to understand why her family still had hope, why Sarah Beth’s family still trusted the Lord wholeheartedly.
She’d been raised to love the Lord. Until the earthquake, she would have said her faith was deep and growing. But after Sarah Beth’s death, she’d discovered her faith had shallow roots. It was depressing and discouraging. She didn’t know how to take her faith from where it currently existed back to the place she had perceived it to exist . . . or on to a deeper place.
Pap pointed to the oak tree growing in his yard. “Sugar, you see that tree? What do you think made it grow so tall?”
She studied the tree—unbending, unyielding, majestic.
“Its roots are far-reaching and shallow. They suck the nutrients from the soil and push the tree taller.” Pap continued as they approached the back porch.
Kaylan helped Pap to one of the wicker chairs. Gran’s lemonade waited in a crystal pitcher on the end table. “I thought all roots grew deep.”
“There aren’t as many nutrients down deep, Sugar, at least not for an oak tree. Roots have to spread and grow, sometimes even past the canopy of the tree. The bigger the tree, the more widespread the roots. But all those shallow roots feed back into one big tap root, which penetrates deep into the earth and stabilizes the tree. No matter what shakes it, the tree doesn’t move because that tap root keeps it stable and strong. Both shallow roots and tap roots are necessary to grow and stabilize the tree.”
Kaylan felt like her tap root was missing. She had been shaken and found wanting. Her roots had been too shallow to help her stand tall. Had she leaned too much on her family? On Sarah Beth?
“My roots are messed up, Pap. I can’t handle any more.”
Pap rose to his feet, gripping the chair until his cane was firmly in his hand. He waved off Kaylan’s help when she began to stand.
“Sugar, I once heard that we turn to God for help when our foundations are shaking only to learn that it is God shaking them. So you might want to ask yourself why the Lord chose to shake your foundations. Look hard, in here.” He tapped his chest, right over his heart. “You might learn something.”
He turned and hobbled into the house, leaving Kaylan alone and more confused than ever.