Head Over Heels by Gail Sattler Read Free Book Online

around the corner, Marielle couldn’t help but wonder what had happened that Russ figured he didn’t have any more miracles left.
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    The next afternoon Russ pulled into the parking lot right on schedule. Marielle’s car, dented roof and all, was already there, along with another older model sedan that had seen better days. He applied and locked the baron the steering wheel, slid out, hit the remote switch to arm the alarm system, then walked toward the building.
    Church or not, he’d seen too many buildings like this when growing up—it was both old and run-down—and he didn’t ever want to see another one, unless it was on a heritage Web site he was designing for a client.
    This would have been his last choice, hands down, of any place he wanted to be. He’d almost told his boss that he really was going to take his doctor’s advice, lie down and not leave the house for a couple of days.
    But Russ had given his word that he would get the computers set up, and Grant had given his word as the corporate sponsor that the job would be completed. Russ was obligated. A man was only as good as his word, and he’d given it. Besides, he had yet another debt to pay, and God would have him make good on it.
    So here he was, the third day in a row.
    On the third day, He rose, according to the Scriptures.
    The words echoed in his head. Russ had heard that statement over and over when he was growing up, when his mother had dragged him to church. He’d believed it then, and he still did. Except now, Russ could look at it more realistically.
    He glanced up at the tarnished steeple. God was out there, all right, but God had only made a difference in his life once, and he’d been paying for it ever since.
    He knew all about trusting God and His miracles. Since then, Russ had grown a little older and a whole lot wiser.
    Russ did all he could so he wouldn’t ever have to pay again, and until his recent incident at the window, he’dhad everything under control. For the past few years he’d been able to move forward with his life without owing anyone, including God. He’d worked, and he’d worked hard, and he was successful.
    When he walked into the basement meeting room, he found Marielle sorting stacks of colored paper into piles, each accompanied by a ruler and a few miscellaneous pieces of white paper already cut into odd shapes. She made quite a comical picture, like she was getting ready for little kids, not a group of rough and rowdy teens.
    He scanned the vacant computers, then looked back at Marielle. “What in the world are you doing?”
    â€œI got a call from a friend who leads the Sunday school. The preschool level teacher was called away on a family emergency and they need someone to take over Sunday’s class. I’m going to ask one of the girls to help me, but first we need to cut out a bunch of shapes so the kids can glue them together. They’re too small to cut things accurately, and I’m not sure how good they are at gluing, but I don’t know what else to do.”
    â€œYou do this,” Russ said, extending one arm to encompass the youth center room, “and you’re going to teach the preschool on Sunday, too?”
    â€œIt needs to be done and there’s no one else, so we have to make do. How are you feeling today?”
    â€œA little better. I can’t believe how long I slept. It must be the medication. I don’t usually sleep over six hours, especially not on a weekday. Here comes Jason—I’d better get started.”
    But instead of joining him with the group at the computer, Jason sat with the girls who were cutting out colored shapes, guided by the white papers Marielle had already cut out, which Russ had figured out were templates.
    Russ left what he was doing and joined the preschool table. The only chair available was in the center of a group of girls, so he stood behind Jason and rested one hand