Brent sat in the living room with his MacBook Pro on his lap. He still had a little time to enjoy peace and quiet before the wife and kids got home.

Along with FoxNews.com, he opened up his Facebook page. He had two messages, one notification, and three friend requests that beckoned for attention.

He was admittedly, and intentionally, a latecomer to the whole Facebook craze. He hadn’t wanted any other intrusions on his time. God, family, and work. Those were his daily focus. However, people kept pressing him, both at church and within his own family, especially his sister, Lydia.

Since she had been stationed at the U.S. Air Base on the Island of Okinawa, Japan, he finally gave in. And now, after the monumental earthquake in Japan, she let all of her friends and family know that she would be posting frequent updates on her page about how things were going amidst all of the devastation.

Lydia had decided early on to make a career of the Air Force. It was unexpected for the rest of the family, but there was no denying that she loved what she was doing. She was patriotic to her core, and Brent loved that about her.

At nearly forty-three years of age, and after twenty-four years of service, she had recently been promoted to Senior Master Sergeant. She had a goal of becoming Chief Master Sergeant before she got out. Brent knew it was a given.

Brent had also recently been promoted. His present rank sounded a little less lofty than Lydia’s, but he was proud to be a sergeant with nineteen years of service on the Millsville Police Department. While others with whom he had gone to high school had been happy to leave their hometown, Brent considered himself blessed to be able to serve the community in which he’d grown up. He knew the people and they knew him.

It wasn’t a big city, or even medium-sized, for that matter, but the 17,000+ residents were enough to keep him and his department busy. While the city had its fair share of problem citizens and passers through, there wasn’t a lot of crime—nothing major anyway. Brent was undecided as to whether he preferred the quiet or those infrequent occasions that created some excitement.

Brent took his mouse and clicked on his messages. One was from Galen Todd, his former high-school nemesis. They had reconnected on Facebook. Galen had actually sought Brent out and was excited to find that Brent had finally gotten into the social-network scheme of things. When Galen announced that he had become a Christian, it had blown Brent’s mind. He was enjoying a newly cultivated friendship with someone he’d known nearly his whole life.

The second message was from Pastor Jonathan who was now senior pastor at his home church. Jonathan’s father, Pastor Chuck, had retired about thirteen years prior, but still attended as a member of his son’s church.

Brent clicked on Pastor Jonathan’s message first.

Jonathan Sagan April 22 at 2:18 P.M.

Hi, Brent. I hope this finds you and the family doing well. I know you’ve been working the past couple of weekends, but I was hoping that you would be available to meet with me for a few minutes immediately after service tomorrow. If not, maybe you can meet me at my office early next week.

Thank you.

Pastor Jonathan

Brent raised his eyebrows for a moment. Wonder what that’s all about?

After electronically catching up with Galen, he spent the next twenty minutes reading and checking status updates and perusing the latest news updates on Japan and the pummeling of Libya. You can’t be too far off from returning, Lord. Hurry; it’s a mess down here.

Finished with the negative news of the morning, he turned off the computer and returned the laptop to his upstairs office.

Tara would be home any time now with the kids.

11:03 A.M.

AT LEAST THE sunshine was making up for the still-too-cold temperatures. It was a shame that she was still driving with the heat on. In Tara’s mind, the word spring should have meant a fifteen-degree jump in temps. If it’s not going to snow, Lord, at least make it warm! When had God ever answered that prayer in Ohio? She giggled softly to herself.

“What’s got you laughing?” asked Jenna, her fifteen-year-old in the passenger seat of the minivan.

“Oh, just trying to get the weather to change.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

Tara just smiled.

Pulling into the driveway she again hit the depression in the lawn at the corner of the driveway and street, jarring everyone in the van.

“Hey! Watch it!” shot Jamie, the thirteen-year-old.

“Sorry!”

Amy, the six-year-old, laughed.

“At least someone appreciates my driving,” Tara quipped.

Jenna retorted, “Mom. Seriously. I’ll drive home from now on.”

“Ha! Not if I want to keep this latest mailbox!”

Jenna looked away in a huff. It was all Tara could do not to laugh out loud. That got her.

“Okay, everyone out!” She pressed the button to slide open the side door, allowing Amy and Jamie to vacate. “Jamie…shower.”

“Aww, mom! I didn’t even sweat.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“Yep!”

“Shower.”

A huff from her boy, now. She smiled to herself. “Come on out, Amy.”

Amy, the Lawton princess—that’s how she truly saw herself, with green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair like her mom’s—stepped out of the vehicle with something akin to a royal air. Her daddy’s doing. Those two were quite the pair.

Grabbing a couple of boutique shopping bags from the back of the van, Tara pressed the sliding-door button on her key chain and started for the front door of the house.

Once inside, she watched Jenna walk up to her dad, who was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, and give him a quick peck on his left cheek. He smiled.

“You need to shave, Officer Prickles.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

Tara enjoyed watching the two of them interact. They butted heads quite often, but next thing you’d know, Jenna would be curled up under her dad’s arm as if he was the only man on Earth. She favored him in the looks category. Her hair, just past her shoulders in length, had already gone past the blonde stage and was starting to get dark, though it would never be as dark as her dad’s. She’d gotten his eyes, too.

Jenna smiled at her dad, then got up and ascended the stairs, presumably to her bedroom.

Amy walked up to her dad and promptly sat right next to him. He put his arm around her and she reached up to give him a kiss, as well. “You need to shave, Officer Prickly Face.”

Both he and Tara laughed. Brent gave his daughter a quick embrace, and said, “Okay! I’m getting the point.” He pushed himself up off the couch while Amy giggled. “I’m going to go sandpaper this face.”

“Good morning, Hon,” he said as Tara closed the front door.

“Good morning, Officer …” She paused, allowing the mischievous phrase to just hang incomplete.

Brent walked up to his wife, who placed her right hand on his cheek as he moved in for a kiss. She gave him an appreciatively-long one, then whispered, “Actually, I enjoy your scruffiness.”

He gave her a wink and headed up the stairs.

Jamie, in his white karate gi, came back into the living room from the kitchen with a glass of milk and a couple cookies on a napkin and set them down on the coffee table. Turning toward the television he made a move for an XBox controller.

“Don’t even think it, Karate Kid. Finish your snack and hit the shower.”

Jamie stood and stared at her for a long moment, probably trying to bend her will with his newly-found teenage attitude. Somehow his blonde hair and bright-blue eyes couldn’t manage to create any sense of intimidation within her. Tara smiled inwardly.

“I mean it.”

He made to say something back, but Tara gave him ‘the look’ and he retreated to his cookies.

At least we timed it well enough to ensure that there would only ever be two teenagers in the house at the same time, Tara mused.