5

What’s the matter, Sabrina?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

Sabrina’s mother had a mood radar that was uncannily accurate even from over a hundred miles away, through nothing but a phone line and less than a few sentences into a conversation. “Oh come on now, we both know that I know something is bothering you.”

What was wrong? How could Sabrina explain it to her mother, when she didn’t understand it herself? “I wish I knew what to tell you, but I really . . . don’t. I’m just stressed out about school and internships, I guess.”

“What’s new with the internship position?”

“They want me to come to Atlanta for an interview next month. There will be over fifty applicants called in. A maximum of fifteen will be offered intern positions. Grace Rose only hires entry-level employees from their intern pool, and usually only about three of them. So . . . we’re looking at some long odds.”

“I’ve never known you to be one who is daunted by long odds, so somehow I doubt the problem is stemming from there.”

And Sabrina knew that her mother was right. Those kinds of numbers didn’t upset her, they motivated her. Excited her, even. No, her melancholy had nothing to do with her school or internships. “Mom, you remember Chariots of Fire?”

“Remember it?” Her mother laughed. “Honey, we’ve watched that movie so many times over the years that you know we could both quote it.”

Sabrina put the phone on her other ear. “Eric Liddell said he could feel God’s pleasure when he ran, remember that?”

“Of course.”

“Eric Liddell felt God’s pleasure when he ran and God blessed him with an Olympic gold medal. I used to feel God’s pleasure when I ran, and now . . . well . . . why would God do that?”

Her mother was quiet for just a moment. When she started speaking again, her voice was low, thoughtful. “Honey, I’ve asked myself—and God—that same question. I wish I knew the answer for you, but I don’t. All I can say is I believe with all my heart that God did plant His call on you, and that He did it for a reason. You know that I believe His call is still on you.”

This was the biggest disagreement between the two of them. Sabrina’s mother insisted that the call to mission work did not end when the running ended. Sabrina saw it differently. “Then why would He take away the means to accomplish the call?”

“Obviously the means He has in mind are different than what we understood. Things aren’t going to happen the way we had planned, but the answer is there for us. We just need to keep praying and looking for it.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” But Sabrina knew her path was in a different direction now. Her shoulders sagged with the onslaught of exhaustion. It was too much. Too much. “Good night, Mom. Thanks for always being here for me.”

“Sorry I don’t have any easy answers for you.”

“Me too, Mom. Me too.”

Nothing had ever kicked Brandy’s rear quite as bad as the two days of team practice. Her calves burned going up and down stairs, her thighs were tight and sore, and her butt was downright aching. But no way would she let on to any of it. She wouldn’t give those other kids the satisfaction of thinking that she might not be good enough or strong enough to run with them. When she left the team, it would be on her own terms, not theirs. And no one would say she left because she wasn’t tough enough.

But there were some things she wasn’t signed up for, like this lunchtime propaganda meeting. Coach had wanted her here, so here she sat—not wanting to get him all mad at her just yet. She’d wait until he was convinced his team couldn’t do without her before she pushed back on some of his crazy rules.

They held the meeting in the largest classroom on campus—the only one with auditorium-style seating. There were easily sixty kids there, so it shouldn’t be that hard to sign in, get seen by the powers that be, and then disappear without anyone noticing. Brandy printed her name on the sign-in list, then made her way to the far back corner. When the time was right, she’d slip out the back and meet Janie for a quick smoke before their next class.

“You’re Brandy, right?” A tall girl with long blond hair came to sit beside her. “I’ve been wanting a chance to introduce myself since you started working out with us. I’m Erin Methvin.”

Brandy nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen you at practice.” Which was partially true. She’d seen Erin’s ponytail at practice. The distance runners were split into three groups. There were the beginners, those who could barely run a mile without puking. They brought up the rear. Then there was the middle group, the ones with fair endurance and speed. The third pack led the way down the sidewalk, around the city block that encircled the school and through the small park across the street. That group moved at an amazing pace, but not only did they never seem to break a sweat, they carried on an almost constant conversation as they ran.

On the first day of practice, Coach Thompson had said, “Don’t worry about trying to hang with the front group. Those are experienced runners—we don’t expect you to keep up with them. In fact, if you need to run with the group in the back while you’re getting started, that’s fine, too.”

“As if.” Brandy walked away from him, directly toward the front, her plan being to blow them all out on the very first day, thereby establishing where she ranked in the pecking order around there.

Instead, she’d learned the hard way that there was a major difference in sprinting distances just far enough to break free of pursuing cops, and running three or four miles at a consistent pace. She’d spent both workouts giving it everything she had just to maintain pace with the tail end of the front group. That first practice, she might have even given up and allowed herself to fall back into the middle group had it not been for Coach Thompson’s words. No way was she going to give the satisfaction to some old man who thought he knew her. And since Erin had always been one of the leaders of the front group, Brandy just focused in on her ponytail as they ran. It would swing back and forth with each stride Erin took, somehow mocking her with each sweeping movement. Brandy saw it at night when she closed her eyes.

“I’m glad we get this chance to sit together and chat for a few minutes before the speaker starts. Aren’t you?”

“Sure.” Brandy glanced toward the exit door, now considerably further from her grasp than it had been just a few seconds before. “It’s just that—”

“Thanks for coming, everyone.” Coach Thompson looked around the room, his eyes coming to rest on Brandy and Erin. “It’s great to see you all here. Why don’t those of you toward the back move forward. I know you’re not going to want to miss anything that Ms. Ratcliff is going to say. I’m sure you all will find her very inspiring.”

“I guess we better move up a few rows.” Erin smiled at her.

“Guess so.”

In spite of her best efforts to tune out the speaker, somewhere in the middle of her talk, Brandy found herself listening, interested even. This girl had come from a broken home, had to pay her own way to college. Regardless of where she was working now, she hadn’t been born a rich brat.

“So, after making the team as a freshman walk-on and then surpassing everyone’s expectations for three years, one day a coach pulled me aside with the news I had been dying to hear. They were working on finally securing me a scholarship slot for my senior year. You can’t even imagine what that sounds like to a person who had been working, going to school full-time, and amassing a fortune in student loans. Sounds like an answer to that prayer I’ve been telling you about, right?”

Heads nodded around the room. They all knew where this was going—happy ending for the girl who prayed and didn’t give up.

“That’s what I thought, too, until a couple weeks later. The same coach came to me and apologized, but said they wouldn’t be able to make me the offer after all. They’d found a running prodigy that they were desperate to sign. She’d be taking my scholarship slot. They had to promise her four years to get her to sign and so my chance was gone. I was devastated.” The woman stopped speaking and swallowed hard, composing herself.

“And here’s the thing. When this prodigy showed up, she had the worst work ethic I’d ever seen. She missed practice after practice, always with some excuse about her knees or hips hurting. You know?” She paused and looked around the room. “We’re runners. Our knees and hips are going to hurt sometimes, that’s part of it.” Everyone nodded again.

“In fact, this prodigy only ran in three events that year, and I crushed her time in all three of them. But you know what? God was faithful. Word of my success reached the people at Samson Academy and they offered me a job, including a reverse scholarship that will help pay off my loans. I am currently training some of the greatest young runners in Nashville. In fact, I’m more than confident that several of my runners will make the Olympic team in a couple of years. So my prayer was answered, just not in the exact way I expected it to be. Don’t ever give up, even when it seems like God has forgotten you. He’s still got something in store.” Kayla Ratcliff left the podium to great applause, waving at the group.

“Wow, wasn’t she just amazing?” Erin shook her head slowly in thought. “What determination. What a great faith.”

“Sure.” Brandy got up quickly from her seat and hurried out of the room. She didn’t want to think about this stuff anymore. Hopefully Janie was still somewhere to be found in the parking lot.