so far all the guys I’ve told about Becky either laughed, got all weirded out, or made fun of her. I knew before I even started I’d need a sign from God just like Eliezer did. I know Becky really well, but I don’t want to be responsible for choosing her husband. This way, it’s more like God is the one responsible since He has to show me a sign. Becky may have a list of things she’d want in a man, but the main thing is someone with a heart for God. So I told God that the sign would be for the man who was supposed to marry Becky suggest I ask for a sign. This would show me that he knew the story from the Bible and that he had enough of a personal relationship with God to recommend I seek God’s guidance.”
She looked at me expectantly, as though this was some sort of algebra problem and only I had the right answer. I’d seen that look on Marty’s face a hundred times. But this wasn’t a+b=?
What could I say? I had sympathy for Becky. I felt bad that her grandfather was dying. Truly, I did. But that didn’t mean I was ready to go and marry the woman! It was simply out of the question.
“Sorry”—I shook my head—“but you’ve got the wrong guy.”
11
Luke
HAVE THINE OWN way, Lord. Have thine own way.
The lyrics repeated themselves over and over again like a broken record. Was I letting God have His own way? I’d jumped the gun in a relationship once before without asking what His will was in the matter. But surely His plan didn’t have anything to do with me moving to California to marry a complete stranger. Besides, what about love? Becky might be content with a loveless marriage, but that wasn’t the kind of union I wanted for myself.
Love is a choice.
My uncle’s words rang in my ears. I didn’t want to admit the accuracy of the statement, but I couldn’t deny it either. The statistics of divorce in this country were staggering. If a couple were in love on their wedding day, then what happened to end their marital bliss? Did they base everything on the flightiness of feelings instead of a lasting commitment to love their partner through thick and thin, richer or poorer, sickness and health?
Have thine own way, Lord.
What’s Your way, Lord? What is it You want me do?
Love thy neighbor as thyself…
I couldn’t have been more taken aback if I’d been hit by a battering ram. I talked to God all the time, but that was the first time I’d heard Him talk back.
I looked up at the sky, my hands stretched out in front of me, palms up in supplication. “What’s that supposed to mean, love my neighbor? If that’s Your answer, then I don’t understand. I need a yes or a no. Am I supposed to go to California and marry that woman? Is that Your plan for my life?”
As if the words of 1 John 4:19 were illuminated in neon lights on a billboard, I saw them clearly—we love because He first loved us .
Was it really that simple? The reason followers of Christ love Him is because He loved us first. Deep in my heart I knew this was a promise from God as well as His divine direction. He was telling me to go to California. To marry Becky. To love her. And in loving her, she would love me in return.
***
Rebekah
“Stay, Lady,” I commanded, although I’m not sure why I bothered. The way her head rested on Mr. Peddlemyer’s leg, tongue lolled out the side of her mouth, eyes half-closed, I doubted I could have gotten her to move from that spot.
“Stop your worryin’.” Mr. Peddlemyer waved a purple-veined hand at me. “Your dog and I will be just fine, won’t we girl?”
I smiled at the pair before walking through Grandview’s front door, nearly bumping into Rita.
“Hey, Rita. Is Poppy in his room?”
She bit her lower lip and hesitated before answering. “No, he no in his room right now.” She jerked her head to the left. “He in front room.”
My brows came together. What was with her nervous behavior?
The petite CNA scurried away before I had a chance to
She looked at me expectantly, as though this was some sort of algebra problem and only I had the right answer. I’d seen that look on Marty’s face a hundred times. But this wasn’t a+b=?
What could I say? I had sympathy for Becky. I felt bad that her grandfather was dying. Truly, I did. But that didn’t mean I was ready to go and marry the woman! It was simply out of the question.
“Sorry”—I shook my head—“but you’ve got the wrong guy.”
11
Luke
HAVE THINE OWN way, Lord. Have thine own way.
The lyrics repeated themselves over and over again like a broken record. Was I letting God have His own way? I’d jumped the gun in a relationship once before without asking what His will was in the matter. But surely His plan didn’t have anything to do with me moving to California to marry a complete stranger. Besides, what about love? Becky might be content with a loveless marriage, but that wasn’t the kind of union I wanted for myself.
Love is a choice.
My uncle’s words rang in my ears. I didn’t want to admit the accuracy of the statement, but I couldn’t deny it either. The statistics of divorce in this country were staggering. If a couple were in love on their wedding day, then what happened to end their marital bliss? Did they base everything on the flightiness of feelings instead of a lasting commitment to love their partner through thick and thin, richer or poorer, sickness and health?
Have thine own way, Lord.
What’s Your way, Lord? What is it You want me do?
Love thy neighbor as thyself…
I couldn’t have been more taken aback if I’d been hit by a battering ram. I talked to God all the time, but that was the first time I’d heard Him talk back.
I looked up at the sky, my hands stretched out in front of me, palms up in supplication. “What’s that supposed to mean, love my neighbor? If that’s Your answer, then I don’t understand. I need a yes or a no. Am I supposed to go to California and marry that woman? Is that Your plan for my life?”
As if the words of 1 John 4:19 were illuminated in neon lights on a billboard, I saw them clearly—we love because He first loved us .
Was it really that simple? The reason followers of Christ love Him is because He loved us first. Deep in my heart I knew this was a promise from God as well as His divine direction. He was telling me to go to California. To marry Becky. To love her. And in loving her, she would love me in return.
***
Rebekah
“Stay, Lady,” I commanded, although I’m not sure why I bothered. The way her head rested on Mr. Peddlemyer’s leg, tongue lolled out the side of her mouth, eyes half-closed, I doubted I could have gotten her to move from that spot.
“Stop your worryin’.” Mr. Peddlemyer waved a purple-veined hand at me. “Your dog and I will be just fine, won’t we girl?”
I smiled at the pair before walking through Grandview’s front door, nearly bumping into Rita.
“Hey, Rita. Is Poppy in his room?”
She bit her lower lip and hesitated before answering. “No, he no in his room right now.” She jerked her head to the left. “He in front room.”
My brows came together. What was with her nervous behavior?
The petite CNA scurried away before I had a chance to
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