a sunny but secluded spot at the far corner of the yard, away from the activity of parishioners arriving at the white clapboard church for morning Bible study, and settled down against the trunk of a maple.
She waited before speaking, listening to the sounds around her—the distant voices going into the church, the cooing of mourning doves, the rustle of wind in the leaves.
“ Father, ” she began, low and slow, addressing her prayer to her one true King, peace descending upon her soul. “ Give me wisdom. Help me make sense of my own heart. ”
At the end of her petition, the world fell dramatically silent. No voices. No cooing. No shuffling leaves. Her thoughts remained tangled and knotted.
Talk to me, Lord.
Surely when she was stuck, God had a way out. An answer she never imagined.
Stretching out her legs, Susanna folded her hands over her middle and studied the blue patches of sky through the tree limbs.
The same blue as Nathaniel ’ s eyes. She missed him. Mercy, what must he be thinking of her right now?
A fly buzzed around her ears and she batted it away.
In the distance, she heard the slap of a car door followedby a murmur of voices and the crunch of heels on the brick path.
If she were Nathaniel, she ’ d be doubting this relationship about now. What groom wouldn ’ t, with a fiancée who was so dramatic and over the top as to leave her engagement ring behind?
If he found out about that, and she hoped he wouldn ’ t. She opened her eyes and sat forward. What was I thinking?
Fear. Such a rude counselor.
God, wisdom! Please . . .
“ I like to come out here myself to think and pray. ”
Susanna glanced right to see Reverend Smith approaching, dressed in khakis and a blue button-down shirt, his graying hair cropped close to his head.
“ Reverend! Hey . . . ” She started to rise but he dropped down onto the grass next to her.
“ Mind if I join you? ”
“ Not at all. ” A fresh wash of tears flooded her eyes.
“ Beautiful day. ” He propped his arms on his raised knees. In his midfifties, Reverend Smith had a youthful air, but his demeanor, his sermons, reflected his wise, contemplative life.
“ Yes, it is. ” One more word, and she ’ d burst. Tears. Gushes. Sobs.
“ Mind if I ask you a question? ”
She shook her head.
“ What are you doing here? Aren ’ t you getting married in two weeks? ”
She brushed away the slight trickle of tears twisting down her cheeks. “ Two weeks and three days. ” She peered at him. “ I think. ”
“ You think? ” He arched his brow. “ Have you changed your mind? Because the hospitality ministry is very excited about the live broadcast we ’ ve planned for your wedding. There ’ s going to be a pancake breakfast. We expect a big turnout. ” His soft laugh made her smile. “ What ’ s going on? Care to tell me? ”
Susanna yanked at the blades of grass beside her legs and recounted the events of last Friday to her pastor, right down to her argument with Nathaniel and her impulsive decision to leave her ring behind.
“ Ah, I see. So the details were piling on, and then Nathaniel lit a fire under it all when he told you about your citizenship. ”
“ Pretty much. ”
“ But, my word, Susanna, you ’ re marrying a king. ”
“ Not as easy as it sounds. It ’ s no movie, I tell you. ”
“ Nor should it be. There ’ s a lot of responsibility with marrying any man, let alone a king. ” The reverend patted her back.
“ Yeah, I guess so. ” More tears.
“ Tell me, why is the citizenship issue holding you back? ”
“ Because it means everything of me is gone. My nationality, my people, my culture. Is our love really worth it? ”
“ Jesus felt it was. ”
“ I ’ m not Jesus. ”
He chuckled. “ But you ’ re called to be like Him. He gave up His citizenship in heaven to become a citizen of earth. He is wholly God, and wholly man, for the rest of eternity. ”
“ Then Nathaniel should give up his citizenship
She waited before speaking, listening to the sounds around her—the distant voices going into the church, the cooing of mourning doves, the rustle of wind in the leaves.
“ Father, ” she began, low and slow, addressing her prayer to her one true King, peace descending upon her soul. “ Give me wisdom. Help me make sense of my own heart. ”
At the end of her petition, the world fell dramatically silent. No voices. No cooing. No shuffling leaves. Her thoughts remained tangled and knotted.
Talk to me, Lord.
Surely when she was stuck, God had a way out. An answer she never imagined.
Stretching out her legs, Susanna folded her hands over her middle and studied the blue patches of sky through the tree limbs.
The same blue as Nathaniel ’ s eyes. She missed him. Mercy, what must he be thinking of her right now?
A fly buzzed around her ears and she batted it away.
In the distance, she heard the slap of a car door followedby a murmur of voices and the crunch of heels on the brick path.
If she were Nathaniel, she ’ d be doubting this relationship about now. What groom wouldn ’ t, with a fiancée who was so dramatic and over the top as to leave her engagement ring behind?
If he found out about that, and she hoped he wouldn ’ t. She opened her eyes and sat forward. What was I thinking?
Fear. Such a rude counselor.
God, wisdom! Please . . .
“ I like to come out here myself to think and pray. ”
Susanna glanced right to see Reverend Smith approaching, dressed in khakis and a blue button-down shirt, his graying hair cropped close to his head.
“ Reverend! Hey . . . ” She started to rise but he dropped down onto the grass next to her.
“ Mind if I join you? ”
“ Not at all. ” A fresh wash of tears flooded her eyes.
“ Beautiful day. ” He propped his arms on his raised knees. In his midfifties, Reverend Smith had a youthful air, but his demeanor, his sermons, reflected his wise, contemplative life.
“ Yes, it is. ” One more word, and she ’ d burst. Tears. Gushes. Sobs.
“ Mind if I ask you a question? ”
She shook her head.
“ What are you doing here? Aren ’ t you getting married in two weeks? ”
She brushed away the slight trickle of tears twisting down her cheeks. “ Two weeks and three days. ” She peered at him. “ I think. ”
“ You think? ” He arched his brow. “ Have you changed your mind? Because the hospitality ministry is very excited about the live broadcast we ’ ve planned for your wedding. There ’ s going to be a pancake breakfast. We expect a big turnout. ” His soft laugh made her smile. “ What ’ s going on? Care to tell me? ”
Susanna yanked at the blades of grass beside her legs and recounted the events of last Friday to her pastor, right down to her argument with Nathaniel and her impulsive decision to leave her ring behind.
“ Ah, I see. So the details were piling on, and then Nathaniel lit a fire under it all when he told you about your citizenship. ”
“ Pretty much. ”
“ But, my word, Susanna, you ’ re marrying a king. ”
“ Not as easy as it sounds. It ’ s no movie, I tell you. ”
“ Nor should it be. There ’ s a lot of responsibility with marrying any man, let alone a king. ” The reverend patted her back.
“ Yeah, I guess so. ” More tears.
“ Tell me, why is the citizenship issue holding you back? ”
“ Because it means everything of me is gone. My nationality, my people, my culture. Is our love really worth it? ”
“ Jesus felt it was. ”
“ I ’ m not Jesus. ”
He chuckled. “ But you ’ re called to be like Him. He gave up His citizenship in heaven to become a citizen of earth. He is wholly God, and wholly man, for the rest of eternity. ”
“ Then Nathaniel should give up his citizenship
Similar Books
