arms. “I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters . . .”
Trish wanted the intimacy of being a beloved daughter. She’d lost favor with her cousins after they saw Kazuo embracing her in the middle of the hospital waiting room, and Grandma was withholding favor until Trish got back together with him. Her mom was really sick, and Dad . . . things were strained, to put it mildly. There was no one there for her.
And maybe once she was successful in becoming a better person — if she did enough things so God could love her more — then He might lead Mr. Perfect Christian Man directly to her. Didn’t they always say you found what you were looking for when you stopped looking? It had worked for her cousin Lex and her great relationship with Aiden.
Trish definitely had that whole “burning” thing Paul talked about in 1 Corinthians 7 somewhere. She needed a good Christian boyfriend to depend on, someone to be strong so she wouldn’t have to be.
She continued on. She had already filled pages and pages of her notebook with verses and thoughts.
On Friday night, Trish stayed home like an utter social failure to finish the last few chapters of 2 Corinthians. In chapter twelve of 2 Corinthians, she reached Christ’s words to Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
She burst into tears.
She was so weak, such a loser, such a tramp . But Christ promised to give her His power despite her weak-loser-tramp status. Paul himself said, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.” If Paul could be flogged and jailed and still be faithful, then she could at least face morning traffic with fewer temper tantrums.
Sniveling and honking into tissues, Trish finished 2 Corinthians and jotted down her last note. She sagged back in her chair and took a deep breath, feeling the air rasp in her throat. A vague nervousness simmered somewhere south of her stomach, making her a bit queasy. This was something big.
Reconciled with Christ. Blameless. Undivided — undistracted — devotion.
Her nervousness rose to a rapid boil, and she started to hyperventilate. Could she do that? Turn her back on non-Christian boys — on all boys, because if she was looking at guys, even Christian guys, God certainly wouldn’t give her one. Could she turn her mind and desires around so that she could achieve that undivided devotion? Jenn seemed to have that — she was such a good Christian girl. Could Trish learn to rely on God more than she did? Most of the time, she simply didn’t remember to think about God.
She needed to pull a Nike and just do it. Commit to becoming a different person, a better person. Regaining her chastity, making everything like it was before.
The realization hit like a dash of cold water, calming her boiling tension, invigorating her senses with new purpose. She would change her innermost desires and make Christ her top priority. First and Second Corinthians could show her how to do it.
She sifted through her notes and saw many things falling into a pattern. Energy rushed through her hands and feet. She felt like she was back in school, and she finally understood a calculus concept that baffled everybody else.
I think I get it . . .
“Hallo?” Jenn’s voice sounded scratchy with sleep.
“Jenn, I just exited the freeway. I’m on my way to your house.”
“Trish? What time is it?”
“Let me in, okay? I called your cell phone so I wouldn’t wake up your mom.”
“What? What time did you leave Mountain View?” Trish heard Jenn fumbling for something.
“Well, I stopped off for coffee. I had to talk to you — ”
“Trish, it’s seven a.m. on a Saturday!”
Uh oh. “Um . . . Do you want me to come back later? I could drive around . . .”
Jenn sighed. “No, I’m already up. I’ll unlock the door for you.”
Twenty minutes later, Trish bustled into Jenn’s kitchen. Jenn dozed while standing over the coffee maker and turned a bleary eye
Trish wanted the intimacy of being a beloved daughter. She’d lost favor with her cousins after they saw Kazuo embracing her in the middle of the hospital waiting room, and Grandma was withholding favor until Trish got back together with him. Her mom was really sick, and Dad . . . things were strained, to put it mildly. There was no one there for her.
And maybe once she was successful in becoming a better person — if she did enough things so God could love her more — then He might lead Mr. Perfect Christian Man directly to her. Didn’t they always say you found what you were looking for when you stopped looking? It had worked for her cousin Lex and her great relationship with Aiden.
Trish definitely had that whole “burning” thing Paul talked about in 1 Corinthians 7 somewhere. She needed a good Christian boyfriend to depend on, someone to be strong so she wouldn’t have to be.
She continued on. She had already filled pages and pages of her notebook with verses and thoughts.
On Friday night, Trish stayed home like an utter social failure to finish the last few chapters of 2 Corinthians. In chapter twelve of 2 Corinthians, she reached Christ’s words to Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
She burst into tears.
She was so weak, such a loser, such a tramp . But Christ promised to give her His power despite her weak-loser-tramp status. Paul himself said, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.” If Paul could be flogged and jailed and still be faithful, then she could at least face morning traffic with fewer temper tantrums.
Sniveling and honking into tissues, Trish finished 2 Corinthians and jotted down her last note. She sagged back in her chair and took a deep breath, feeling the air rasp in her throat. A vague nervousness simmered somewhere south of her stomach, making her a bit queasy. This was something big.
Reconciled with Christ. Blameless. Undivided — undistracted — devotion.
Her nervousness rose to a rapid boil, and she started to hyperventilate. Could she do that? Turn her back on non-Christian boys — on all boys, because if she was looking at guys, even Christian guys, God certainly wouldn’t give her one. Could she turn her mind and desires around so that she could achieve that undivided devotion? Jenn seemed to have that — she was such a good Christian girl. Could Trish learn to rely on God more than she did? Most of the time, she simply didn’t remember to think about God.
She needed to pull a Nike and just do it. Commit to becoming a different person, a better person. Regaining her chastity, making everything like it was before.
The realization hit like a dash of cold water, calming her boiling tension, invigorating her senses with new purpose. She would change her innermost desires and make Christ her top priority. First and Second Corinthians could show her how to do it.
She sifted through her notes and saw many things falling into a pattern. Energy rushed through her hands and feet. She felt like she was back in school, and she finally understood a calculus concept that baffled everybody else.
I think I get it . . .
“Hallo?” Jenn’s voice sounded scratchy with sleep.
“Jenn, I just exited the freeway. I’m on my way to your house.”
“Trish? What time is it?”
“Let me in, okay? I called your cell phone so I wouldn’t wake up your mom.”
“What? What time did you leave Mountain View?” Trish heard Jenn fumbling for something.
“Well, I stopped off for coffee. I had to talk to you — ”
“Trish, it’s seven a.m. on a Saturday!”
Uh oh. “Um . . . Do you want me to come back later? I could drive around . . .”
Jenn sighed. “No, I’m already up. I’ll unlock the door for you.”
Twenty minutes later, Trish bustled into Jenn’s kitchen. Jenn dozed while standing over the coffee maker and turned a bleary eye
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