remembered a time when he’d looked at her that way. A time when ⎯
“Oh, that boy.” Elena’s warm smile lit her whole face. “And he’s in church today. How wonderful.”
Roxy felt a sharp stab in her chest. She was an outsider, invis- ible to Wyatt and Elena. She didn’t like the feeling.
She turned away, hoping she wouldn’t cry. How embarrassing that would be, for all these strangers to see her break down. She stepped to her father’s side, pretending interest in his conversation with a white-haired, elderly man while forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths.
At last, her father glanced at her. “We’d better get into the sanctuary or we’ll never find a seat. They fill up fast.”
Roxy nodded, dreading the next ninety minutes more than ever.
=
The service at Believers Hillside began with a period of worship in song. Standing between her father on her left and Wyatt on her right, Elena closed her eyes and sang the familiar words of praise.
Most Sundays, this time of worship brought her joy, even though she didn’t have the best voice in the world. It was personal and heartfelt when she sang that God was an awesome God, when she declared He was holy and worthy, when she thanked Him for the forgiveness of her sins, when she acknowledged the work of His hands.
But this morning, the words of praise felt hollow in her throat. She couldn’t seem to enter in. God felt distant, and she didn’t have to look far to know why.
It was Roxy’s fault.
A surreptitious glance to her left revealed her sister, standing on the other side of their father. Roxy’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, her arms crossed over her chest. It was obvious she still hated being in church.
I wish she wasn’t here. Elena closed her eyes again and lowered
her chin. I shouldn’t feel that way. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I can’t help it. Dad acts as if she hasn’t done horrible things, but anyone can look at her and know the truth. She should be on her knees to You, God, but she isn’t. She isn’t the least bit repentant. She ran out of money. That’s the reason she came back. Not because she’s sorry.
Wyatt’s deep voice broke through the haze of her thoughts — even she wouldn’t call it a prayer — and she opened her eyes a sec- ond time, now glancing to her right. Her fiancé’s arms were lifted in praise. A different stance from her sister’s.
Wyatt loved God with his whole heart. He was a good man, tender and caring, but also strong and confident. Even during his bad-boy years, before he knew the Lord, he was kind to his mother and sister and loyal to his friends. Those were a few of the reasons she was attracted to him back when he was Roxy’s steady. Back when Elena could only dream about him seeing her as something more than Roxy’s older sister.
What does he think when he looks at her now? He loved her once.
Does he remember and wish—
Fear coursed through Elena.
Please, God. Don’t let me lose him. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t.
She’d never sent a more heartfelt prayer heavenward in her
life.
=
About ten minutes into the service, Roxy relaxed a little. The group on the stage wasn’t half bad. In all honesty, they were good. She’d heard worse in recording studios in Nashville. There were two female vocalists, a bass player, a drummer with spiky hair and a goatee, a lead guitarist, and a guy on the keyboard.
She let her gaze wander from the worship team to the con- gregation. A lot of them were clapping their hands or lifting their arms. Most had their eyes closed, except for those reading the lyrics on the screens located on either side of the stage.
Maybe they’re pagans like me. She suppressed a disparaging
laugh.
A lot of years had passed since Roxy attended a church service. The last time was here at Believers Hillside. Unless something had changed, she knew that after the singing would come announce- ments and the passing of collection baskets, and then
“Oh, that boy.” Elena’s warm smile lit her whole face. “And he’s in church today. How wonderful.”
Roxy felt a sharp stab in her chest. She was an outsider, invis- ible to Wyatt and Elena. She didn’t like the feeling.
She turned away, hoping she wouldn’t cry. How embarrassing that would be, for all these strangers to see her break down. She stepped to her father’s side, pretending interest in his conversation with a white-haired, elderly man while forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths.
At last, her father glanced at her. “We’d better get into the sanctuary or we’ll never find a seat. They fill up fast.”
Roxy nodded, dreading the next ninety minutes more than ever.
=
The service at Believers Hillside began with a period of worship in song. Standing between her father on her left and Wyatt on her right, Elena closed her eyes and sang the familiar words of praise.
Most Sundays, this time of worship brought her joy, even though she didn’t have the best voice in the world. It was personal and heartfelt when she sang that God was an awesome God, when she declared He was holy and worthy, when she thanked Him for the forgiveness of her sins, when she acknowledged the work of His hands.
But this morning, the words of praise felt hollow in her throat. She couldn’t seem to enter in. God felt distant, and she didn’t have to look far to know why.
It was Roxy’s fault.
A surreptitious glance to her left revealed her sister, standing on the other side of their father. Roxy’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, her arms crossed over her chest. It was obvious she still hated being in church.
I wish she wasn’t here. Elena closed her eyes again and lowered
her chin. I shouldn’t feel that way. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I can’t help it. Dad acts as if she hasn’t done horrible things, but anyone can look at her and know the truth. She should be on her knees to You, God, but she isn’t. She isn’t the least bit repentant. She ran out of money. That’s the reason she came back. Not because she’s sorry.
Wyatt’s deep voice broke through the haze of her thoughts — even she wouldn’t call it a prayer — and she opened her eyes a sec- ond time, now glancing to her right. Her fiancé’s arms were lifted in praise. A different stance from her sister’s.
Wyatt loved God with his whole heart. He was a good man, tender and caring, but also strong and confident. Even during his bad-boy years, before he knew the Lord, he was kind to his mother and sister and loyal to his friends. Those were a few of the reasons she was attracted to him back when he was Roxy’s steady. Back when Elena could only dream about him seeing her as something more than Roxy’s older sister.
What does he think when he looks at her now? He loved her once.
Does he remember and wish—
Fear coursed through Elena.
Please, God. Don’t let me lose him. I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t.
She’d never sent a more heartfelt prayer heavenward in her
life.
=
About ten minutes into the service, Roxy relaxed a little. The group on the stage wasn’t half bad. In all honesty, they were good. She’d heard worse in recording studios in Nashville. There were two female vocalists, a bass player, a drummer with spiky hair and a goatee, a lead guitarist, and a guy on the keyboard.
She let her gaze wander from the worship team to the con- gregation. A lot of them were clapping their hands or lifting their arms. Most had their eyes closed, except for those reading the lyrics on the screens located on either side of the stage.
Maybe they’re pagans like me. She suppressed a disparaging
laugh.
A lot of years had passed since Roxy attended a church service. The last time was here at Believers Hillside. Unless something had changed, she knew that after the singing would come announce- ments and the passing of collection baskets, and then
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