Godless by James Dobson

Julia’s arm.
    â€œI’m not like you, Angie. I get so…” She paused.
    â€œTense?” Angie completed the thought.
    Another embarrassed nod.
    â€œAnd angry?”
    Julia looked at her friend turned inquisitor. How did she know?
    â€œAnd insecure, like you think you’re doing everything wrong?”
    â€œExactly,” Julia replied.
    â€œThen you’re just like every mother on the planet.” Angie smiled reassuringly. “Go on.”
    â€œLike yesterday morning. I ran Amanda to the store to pick up a bottle of some shampoo her friends insist makes their hair smell like rose petals. New Aroma or New Fragrance. Something like that.”
    â€œNuScent?”
    â€œThat’s it.”
    â€œLilies,” Angie said. “It makes your hair smell like lilies.”
    â€œRight, lilies. Anyway, I had no idea how expensive it would be until we got to the store, so I suggested a different brand.”
    Angie grinned. “I bet that didn’t go over real well.”
    â€œOh, my goodness!” Julia said. “You would have thought I had suggested shaving her head bald. She folded her arms tight like a temper-throwing child and stormed out of the store after calling me a stingy, selfish…” She paused, unwilling to quote the rest.
    â€œOuch,” Angie said sympathetically.
    â€œCan you believe it? After all I’ve given that girl.”
    Angie didn’t appear to take up Julia’s offense. “So what’d you do?” she asked.
    â€œI bought a bottle of the stupid shampoo.”
    â€œGood girl,” Angie said, to Julia’s surprise. “Then what?”
    â€œI was upset, so I took my time walking to the car in order to cool down.”
    Angie smiled like a teacher writing “A+” on a struggling student’s test paper. “What did you say to Amanda?”
    â€œNothing. I just opened the door and handed her the bottle.”
    â€œDid she apologize?”
    â€œNo. We drove halfway home in silence.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    â€œAnd then Amanda opened her window and tossed the bottle of NuScent into a ditch.”
    Angie winced.
    â€œI nearly lost it,” Julia continued, her head bowing slightly in self-condemnation. “I wanted to pull the car over and make her walk the rest of the way home. I wanted to ask her if she had any idea how much stress Troy and I have been under since she arrived, how much time and money we’ve spent trying to give her a better life, and how much sleep I’ve lost worrying about whether we made the right decision.”
    â€œYou made the right decision, Julia. That girl needs you and Troy.”
    Julia nodded in hesitant agreement. “I know she does.”
    â€œAnd you need her.”
    Did she? During the countless hours she had rehearsed the decision in her mind, Julia had always landed in the same place. Troy wanted kids and would make a great father. Since they were unable to conceive their own, taking on a neglected transition-orphan seemed the right thing to do. At times Julia even felt as if God himself had orchestrated the union between infertile couple and parentless child. So why, she wondered, hadn’t he endowed Julia with the kind of calm confidence and loving patience that overflowed effortlessly from her friend?
    â€œYou think I need temper tantrums and flying shampoo bottles?”
    Angie laughed. “I guess, in a way, yeah. You do.”
    Julia gave a puzzled look.
    â€œIf motherhood has taught me anything,” Angie continued, “it’s that nothing gets us in better shape.”
    Julia imagined herself at the gym. “In shape?”
    â€œPushes us to become more than we want to be.”
    â€œI see,” Julia bluffed.
    â€œI don’t think you do,” said Angie. “You just described a situation that tells me you’re becoming a wonderful mom.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou heard me, a wonderful