Some Kind of Wonderful

by Debbie Macomber

  “You got anything for me?” I challenged. I wasn’t sure who I was talking to, not that it mattered. It was a ridiculous question.

  This was bad. I hadn’t been free for twenty-four hours and already I was losing it.

  Sagging forward, I leaned my head against the back of the wooden pew, while resisting the urge to give in to self-pity. I was disgusted with myself when tears filled my eyes. I was stronger than this. I released a slow, shuddering breath, my chest tight with anxiety and fear.

  In that moment something changed. Something in me. I experienced a sense of peace. Or something like it. I hadn’t felt peaceful in so long that I couldn’t be sure what it was. Of course, it could have been my imagination, but some of the tenseness left my shoulder blades and I felt my body relax.

  Shrugging it off but willing to test this strange feeling, I tried speaking again but then realized I had nothing to say.

  I needed help. A little guidance would be appreciated. It wasn’t like I was looking for God or anyone else to part the Red Sea or to give a blind man sight. All I cared about was where my next meal was coming from and where I would find a bed that night. The thought of sleeping on the street terrified me. A job would be helpful, too.

  The more I dwelled on my immediate future, the more tense I grew. Whatever peace I’d experienced earlier was fleeting at best. I closed my eyes and exhaled, searching to find it within myself.

  None came. No surprise there. The only person I’d ever been able to depend on was myself. If ever there was a time I needed to pull myself up by my bootstraps, it was now.

  Coming into this church had been a mistake. I should have known better. Churches like this weren’t meant for people like me.

  I started to get up, feeling a little like Indiana Jones in the movie when he had to step off a ledge in faith and hope that a bridge would appear out of nowhere. As I stood, my purse dropped to the floor, making a loud noise that seemed to reverberate through the church like an echo against a canyon wall. For just an instant I stood frozen.

  It was then that I noticed I wasn’t alone. Someone else was in the church, kneeling in the front. At the sound of my purse dropping, the man turned and looked over his shoulder.

  Then he stood and I froze in shock as he started walking toward me. Without a doubt I knew that whomever this man was, he was going to ask me to leave. I stiffened, determined to meet him head-on. If he was going to toss me onto the street, I would be sure to tell him I’d been kicked out of better places than this.