| |
Emily asked Chloe to stay after creative writing. Once everyone else had left, she said, “So I’ve been talking to you pretty openly about God and church and stuff, and I want you to tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable with any of that, OK?”
Chloe scrunched her eyebrows together. “I’ll never be uncomfortable with Jesus, Miss Morse.”
Emily laughed. “That’s good to hear. But I just—it’s hard for me to walk this line between public educator and follower of Jesus. I’m just sort of figuring it out as I go.” She paused. “So, I want to ask you something, and you totally don’t have to do it.”
“OK,” she said, dragging out the K as if she wasn’t sure whether she was OK with anything.
“I want you to invite MacKenzie to church.”
“MacKenzie Ginn? To our church? As in Noah’s basement?”
Emily laughed again. “Yeah. If you’re comfortable with it.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I could. But I’m really not supposed to, and I think it would carry more weight coming from you.” Emily knew that the former reason was the stronger motivator for her, but she tried to emphasize the latter with her voice.
Chloe took a deep breath. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
“She’s going to make fun of me.”
“You don’t have to do it.”
“Her dad’s not a super nice man. He doesn’t believe.”
“OK. Like I said, it was just a thought. You don’t have to. So, how was Jackson?”
Chloe groaned. “It’s a long bus ride.”
“I can imagine.”
“Super curvy roads. I was carsick half the trip.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How did you play?”
“Good. I scored three three-pointers in the first game and five in the second.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah. It was pretty great.”
“What position do you play?”
“I’m a two.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I’m a shooting guard.”
“Oh, well that makes sense.”
“Yep. Gotta go. We’ve got early practice today. But I’ll ask her, Miss Morse.”
“OK great. I think it’ll be good.”
––––––––
MacKenzie was at Bible study two nights later. She came with Chloe and her parents. They came hurrying down the stairs just before the six o’clock start time.
Emily didn’t always go to the Wednesday night meetings, but she was glad she did this time. She tried to give MacKenzie a big welcoming smile, but MacKenzie went to great pains to avoid eye contact.
MacKenzie wasn’t the only new face either. There were two other people Emily didn’t recognize.
There was a Scripture reading, and then a short discussion about what they’d just read. Then a woman named Darcy stood up to give her testimony. She looked incredibly nervous, but she cleared her throat and spoke clearly and loudly, “My name is Darcy, and I just felt like God really wanted me to share my story tonight. I don’t have a really exciting story like some people. I’ve never been to prison or been addicted to drugs.” She laughed awkwardly. “But I used to be really lost. I used to be really confused. I didn’t know what was true about life. I didn’t know what to believe, or who to believe. I had all these people telling me all these different things, and they all claimed that they loved me, but I never really felt loved by any of them.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if any of this is making any sense.”
“It is, it is,” people encouraged from the small audience.
Darcy smiled and continued, “So then one day, a friend of mine”—she pointed to a woman in the second row—“told me about the gospel. And I’d heard about Jesus a little bit throughout my life, but I had never really heard the story about why he’d come to earth and why he’d died. And then she told me ...” The tears started then, and her voice began to crack, so she slowed the words down. “She told me that Jesus loves me. And that he’s the only one I need to be listening to, that he’s the only one who is real, that all these other voices”—she waved her hands around her head as if battling black flies—“are just ... noise. And so I listened to that friend, and I prayed to Jesus that day. I asked him to come into my life. I asked him to show himself to me. I said, ‘If you died for me, then I guess I can believe in you.’ And he did. He showed up, and I felt my whole body fill with this love, this real love, this love that felt like nothing else in my whole life had ever felt. For the first time, I felt like everything just sort of made sense, like I didn’t know how it would happen, but that everything would be OK. And even if it wasn’t OK, it was OK because I was loved.” She took a deep breath. “Now, would you all do something for me? I’ve never actually led anyone in a salvation prayer, but I’m thinking now’s the time to start. I know most of you know Jesus, but just in case one of you doesn’t, would you please pray with me? Would you please bow your heads and close your eyes? I just want to say a simple prayer, and if you’ve never prayed to Jesus before, I beg you to pray this prayer with me. You don’t have to do it out loud. Just say it in your head, and I promise ... I promise, it will change your life. OK, here goes ... Jesus, thank you for coming to earth as a man. Thank you for dying on the cross. Thank you for loving me. Please forgive me for all the times I’ve messed up. Please come into my life. Please, show me that you are real. Please let me feel that love that the Bible talks so much about. Please come into my life and change it. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.” There was a small pause, and Emily wondered if she could raise her head yet, but Darcy continued, “If you just prayed that prayer with me, would you please raise your hand just a little? I won’t embarrass you. I won’t point you out. I just want to know, so that I can pray for you, and so that I can come talk to you later. Oh, bless your heart, sweetie, thank you for raising your hand. The angels are singing in heaven right now because of you. Is there anyone else? ... Anyone? OK, I thank you all for listening to me. Have a great night.” She grabbed a few more tissues and returned to her seat. Emily stole a glance at MacKenzie, whose face was shiny with tears, and whose head was on her aunt’s shoulder.
Emily wanted to pry, to snoop, to lurk around the basement and find out what had happened with MacKenzie, but she was surrounded by family, including Chloe, and Emily figured she was in good hands. Instead, she prayed during the short drive home, she prayed as she entered her home, as she brushed her teeth, as she ascended her stairs, as she slipped into bed, and as she drifted off to sleep. She prayed for MacKenzie.
––––––––
On Thursday morning, Emily found Chloe alone in her classroom. Emily looked pointedly into her eyes, and said, “Thank you.”
Chloe, apparently knowing exactly what she meant, said, “You were right. You were so right. MacKenzie is really amped up about Jesus right now. She was at our house until almost midnight, talking to my parents about God.”
“Wow!” Emily took off her jacket and sat down. “What do MacKenzie’s parents think?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Darcy’s testimony was pretty incredible, wasn’t it?”
“Yes! Especially since she like, never talks. Seriously, she’s wicked quiet. I’ve never heard her say much of anything.”
“God must have really wanted her to speak up then. And I’d say it’s a good thing she did.” Emily looked around her room. “Where’s Thomas?”
“He’s home sick. At least, he says he’s sick. Sometimes he takes what he calls ‘mental health days.’”
“Ah, yes, well, sometimes those are necessary, though Thomas has always struck me as someone with optimum mental health.”
“Maybe that’s because he takes mental health days.”
“Excellent point. So I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you two ... an item?”
Chloe laughed. “An item? No one says that, Miss Morse. But no, we are not an item. Not even close. Thomas is just ... well, he’s just Thomas.”
“Well, just Thomas would have to be crazy not to be crazy about you.”
