Composing Amelia by Alison Strobel

really does want this job for Marcus?”
    “What are you saying—that God is going to rip my success away from me just to teach me a lesson?”
    Jill gave Amelia an imploring look. “Come on, that’s not what I mean. It’s just … God does what’s best for us, and if we carve in stone our idea of how things should be, then it’s really painful when God’s will trumps ours. Isn’t it better to recognize that we can’t see how or why God orchestrates things the way He does? That His plans have a greater purpose?”
    Amelia clenched her jaw and focused on her sushi in silence. Why couldn’t Jill just support her, or at least play along?
    The noise of the restaurant filled the space between them as they ate their dinners in silence. When it started to get awkward, Jill was the first to speak. “I’m sorry, Amelia, I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”
    Amelia chased a grain of rice with her chopsticks. “Not really, no.”
    “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ames, but I guess … I just worry sometimes that your faith is still so … young. I mean it wasn’t that long ago that we were at Juilliard and you were committing your life to the Lord, and campus ministry isn’t exactly the ‘real world.’ Living as a Christian is complicated.”
    Amelia felt the weight of those words. “I know … But I feel like it’s harder for me than it should be. It certainly seems harder for me than it does for you, or Dane, or Marcus. Especially Marcus. I never hear God like you guys do, or feel Him. And when Marcus gets all preacher on me and launches into some theology lesson out of nowhere, it just annoys me. I mean, if I wanted to be a theologian, I’d have gone to seminary, right? But then I feel guilty, because if I’m a Christian, shouldn’t I want to know that stuff?”
    “Well …” Jill ducked her head, trying to look Amelia in the eyes. “I can’t tell you if you are or aren’t a Christian, Ames. That’s between you and God. What does your gut tell you?”
    This turn in the conversation was making Amelia uncomfortable. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, do you think you are a Christian?”
    Amelia answered quickly. “Of course I am.”
    “I’m not trying to say you’re not,” Jill said. “I just—”
    “But if you didn’t question it, you wouldn’t be asking. Right?” When Jill’s words seemed to get stuck in her throat, Amelia felt her face flush as the heat rose in her cheeks. She could feel herself overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. “You never struck me as the judgmental type, Jill.”
    “I’m not—”
    “Never mind.” Amelia pulled her wallet from her purse and opened it. “Dinner’s on me. Enjoy.” She threw down a twenty and shoved the wallet back into her purse, then slid off the stool and headed for the street.
    How dare Jill accuse her of not being a Christian. Didn’t Jesus tell people not to judge? Jill had been the first Christian Amelia had ever known when they met as roommates their first year at Juilliard, and Amelia had been surprised at how cool she was in spite of it. Apparently Jill had been a lot more accepting of people’s differing views on spirituality back then.
    Her bus was just pulling up to the corner. She hopped on and slouched into a seat just in time to see Jill power walking up the sidewalk. Amelia almost got off the bus, but then turned her back to the window and pulled her iPod from her pocket. She scrolled to Joni Mitchell’s Court and Spark and lost herself in the music as the bus bounced over potholes and tears burned in her eyes.
    The last thing she’d expected tonight was to have her friendship with Jill upended. But how could she be vulnerable with Jill anymore, knowing her friend’s assessment of her? Maybe she’d make some new friends in the theater group. Maybe they would accept her, flaws and all.

    The 757 hit a pocket of turbulence, jarring Marcus from his thoughts and sending him fumbling to keep his plastic