by Chris Fabry
Somehow, she felt like she had begun a new race. But she wasn’t sure how far she would have to run to finish.
The next day before practice, Hannah sat on a chair in a study room at Brookshire, a place with desks and comfortable chairs. The students called it the Lighthouse because a wall of windows allowed sunshine access to every inch of the room.
As she laced her running shoes and prepared to head down the hill, Mrs. Brooks walked inside. She wore a bright-pink dress and Hannah thought she looked like a walking advertisement for successful educators.
“Hey, Hannah, how far do you run in practice?”
“Three miles. Sometimes five.”
The woman seemed impressed. Then she got a concerned look. “Are the Harrisons coming?”
Hannah explained that they had tutoring on Wednesdays so they couldn’t be at practice. But she was allowed to run if she wanted.
Mrs. Brooks put her purse on a chair and pushed a stool close to Hannah and sat, looking into Hannah’s eyes.
“I know you’ve had a lot on your mind lately. I’ve just been wondering how you’re doing.”
Something about the woman’s face, her tone of voice, allowed Hannah to let down her guard.
“I met my dad.”
“That’s a big deal,” Mrs. Brooks said. “How’d that go?”
“He said he was sorry he left.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I still wonder,” she said, butterflies in her stomach. “I wonder why he didn’t want me.”
Mrs. Brooks’s face wrinkled with concern. “Do you believe he’s sorry?”
Hannah shrugged. “I guess.”
Mrs. Brooks leaned forward. “Do you know you have another Father who has always loved you?”
“You mean God?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I do. And listen, He’s not like your dad. He’s a perfect Father. And He wants you to know Him.”
Hannah sat forward. She didn’t want to be mean, but all the talk about God and love and a relationship with Him didn’t feel real. It felt like something people talked about in order to escape their questions.
“How do you know God?” Hannah said.
“God went to great lengths to express His love for you. You’ve heard in Bible class how Jesus died on the cross, but do you understand why?”
Hannah shook her head. “No. Not really.”
“You were created to know Him. And to worship Him. But we reject Him when we do wrong. When we sin, that’s the thing that separates us from Him.”
Hannah thought of the box she had at home. A box full of the sins she had committed.
“So He sent His Son to pay the price to get you back. And it was a painful price. But then He rose from the dead and He made a way for you to get right with God . . . if you trust Him. If you believe. That’s faith. But He doesn’t force it on you. He just offers it to you because He loves you.”
As Mrs. Brooks spoke, her voice became softer and it almost felt like a mother talking to her daughter. Would her own mother have talked this way? Face-to-face? Looking her in the eyes?
“We’ve all sinned, Hannah. We’ve all lied or stolen . . .”
Hannah’s heart jumped when Mrs. Brooks said stolen.
“But when we give our heart to Jesus,” Mrs. Brooks continued, “He starts cleaning it. He takes better care of it than we ever could . . . if we’ll trust Him. Is that something that you’d like to do?”
Hannah felt the sting of tears again, but they were different somehow. She wanted to say yes, but she didn’t know what would happen or what Mrs. Brooks might ask her to do. Somewhere in her heart she knew this was what she needed. It was like in a race: you just put one foot in front of the other and repeated the process.
Her father had been changed on the inside. Somehow God had reached inside and helped him turn around and become a new person. And after seeing him, after hearing his heart, she knew she was ready to step toward God, even though she still had questions. She did believe He was there and that He cared like Mrs. Brooks said, and Mrs. Harrison and Coach, too.
“Yes,” Hannah said. “But I don’t know what to pray.”
“Would it be okay if I led you through it?” Mrs. Brooks said.
Hannah nodded, her vision blurry. Mrs. Brooks held out a hand and Hannah reached out to her. Mrs. Brooks closed her eyes tightly and began to pray and Hannah repeated what she said.
“Lord Jesus, I am a sinner. And I need a Savior. I believe You are that Savior. So today, I place faith in Christ alone to forgive my sins. Come live in me. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
When she finished, Hannah looked into Mrs. Brooks’s smiling face.
“Hannah, that was beautiful. You know that the Bible says when you ask Christ to come live in you, you are a brand-new creature. You are brand-new.”
Hannah smiled and nodded. Could that really be true? Was this just something that happened in your head, or had God really taken away all the bad things she had done? She thought about the box in her nightstand. She thought about the backpack of her life and how heavy it seemed with all the mistakes she had made and the bad breaks she had been given. Maybe that was what God had done. He had reached inside and had taken all of those rocks away so she didn’t have to carry them any longer. She couldn’t stand up under the weight of that backpack and she couldn’t pull all the rocks out herself. So God had done that as only He could do.
“I want you to do me a favor,” Mrs. Brooks said. “There’s a book of the Bible in the New Testament—it’s called Ephesians. I want you to read the first two chapters and just write down everything that it says you are as a believer in Christ. Can you do that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you have a Bible at home?”
“I think my grandmother does.”
Mrs. Brooks told her to wait and left the room. She returned with a Bible and opened the cover. She wrote something inside and handed it to her.
“Now when you go home, before you read those chapters, I want you to pray a simple prayer. Just say, ‘Father, open my eyes to see the truth in Your Word about me and about You.’”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m so proud of you. And I believe God has good things in store for you. I’m going to be praying.”
CHAPTER 30
Hannah had read parts of the Bible and she’d heard pastors speak, but it didn’t make a lot of sense. She’d heard the stories of David and Goliath and Noah’s Flood. The pastors talked about Jesus, and she’d heard His name yelled by kids at the Y when they were mad. She’d even read the Sermon on the Mount somewhere.
“Blessed are the . . .” She couldn’t remember any more and didn’t know what blessed meant.
There was something special about Jesus, no question about it, but she didn’t know what it was. However, the discussion with Mrs. Brooks had turned on a switch inside her. Instead of Him being just a person in history, someone who taught lessons about loving people and doing good things, she now saw Him as someone who came to run a race for God—to live a perfect life so that when He finished, He could offer Himself for her and take her punishment. He could change her heart and forgive her sin. And He fully followed His Father with every step.
To Hannah, being a Christian had always been about doing the right things, not doing the wrong things, and knowing the answers to life’s test questions. Now, she realized that being a Christian was simply agreeing with God about her sin and receiving His forgiveness. And that meant starting a new race, just following Jesus. Period. It wasn’t about doing more good than bad. It was about having a relationship with God and being “in Christ.” That’s what Mrs. Brooks had said, and whatever it meant, she had to find out.
Instead of heading to the cross-country course, Hannah went home. She couldn’t wait to begin the assignment Mrs. Brooks had given her. She started out walking but found herself jogging the mile. Her backpack bounced behind her as she picked up her pace, and it felt lighter somehow. That made her
smile.
Things began to make sense. Christmas, for example. It wasn’t about candy canes and lights. It was about God becoming human. Jesus was God, but He was born a helpless baby. Why? So He could run a perfect race and give Himself for her. For her father.
Easter wasn’t bunnies and bonnets, but a celebration of that man giving up His life for her and then rising from the dead. If that was true, if Jesus really did come back from the dead like Christians believed, it changed everything. And if it was true, that same power could change her from the inside out.
She was flying now, bounding up the stairs and running inside. She pulled out the Bible and a notebook and tossed her backpack on the couch. She sat at the kitchen table and opened the Bible’s cover and saw the date written in blue ink. Below it were words in flowing cursive:
To Hannah, on your spiritual birthday. I thank God for you. I pray you will understand who you are in Christ, and that God will give you a spirit of wisdom and open the eyes of your heart to see the hope, the inheritance, and the power you have in Him. God bless you, Hannah.
Love in Christ, Olivia Brooks
She read the inscription again and wondered where those words had come from. She looked at the table of contents and found the page where Ephesians began.
What was the prayer she was supposed to pray? She closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head. “Father, open my eyes to the truth about me and about You that I’m going to read. Amen.”
That wasn’t exactly what Mrs. Brooks had said, but it was close. She began reading words written by a man named Paul. It was a letter to people who lived a long time ago. As she read, it felt like a letter written straight to her heart.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him.
She pulled the notebook closer and at the top wrote, In Christ. Underneath it she wrote, I am blessed. She didn’t understand all that meant, but if she was “in Christ,” it meant she was blessed with “every spiritual blessing.”
Then she wrote, I am chosen. Jesus chose her before the foundation of the world. She stared at the word. Could that really be true? Had God seen her and planned for her to respond to Him even before she knew about Him? Had He been drawing her to Himself all her life? If so, that meant He cared more than she could understand. He was thinking of her. And if this was true for her, it was also true for her father. God had drawn him the same way. And if God was really in control, if He really did care this much, He was using everything that happened in her life for a purpose.
Asthma.
Maybe asthma wasn’t God’s punishment. Maybe it was something He had allowed to help her see she needed Him more than she could understand.
She read the next verses.
In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.
She wrote, I am adopted in her notebook and looked at the word. She was God’s child because He had adopted her. But why? If God knew all the bad things she had done, why would He want to adopt her? And then she noticed two little words: in love. It was because of His love.
Hannah smiled. God wanted good things for her, so He had blessed her and chosen her and adopted her. Her heart felt full.
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us.
She knew redemption came from redeemed. That one she would have to look up later. It sounded kind of complicated. But she wrote, I am redeemed. She moved on to the next word. It was totally understandable.
I am forgiven.
She took her time writing that and then stared at the word. Writing it was one thing. Believing it was another. Was it true?
She thought of the blue box. It was full. Was God able to forgive those things she’d done? She thought of her father. He’d gotten into drugs and had been responsible for her mother’s death. He’d abandoned his own daughter. That was in his blue box.
If a person who was “in Christ” was really forgiven, then all those things weren’t held against them by God. He had forgiven them. He had cleaned out the blue box of their lives by the power of His love. And forgiveness wasn’t just looking the other way or calling things good that weren’t. It was a choice God made to give His only Son.
She suddenly sensed a freedom she had never experienced. It felt like a puff of the inhaler to her soul. She could breathe again.
Her dad’s face flashed in her mind. Just because he was forgiven by God didn’t change the truth about his bad choices. No, there was something deeper going on.
What if she lived this way? What if she really believed and acted as if she were adopted by God and chosen by Him? What if she lived forgiven instead of living guilty? What if she lived loved by the holy God who made everything? What kind of change would that make in her life?
She picked up in the middle of the long sentence. This guy Paul wrote really long sentences.
. . . in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory.
In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.
She wrote, I am sealed.
She’d never read the Bible this way, as if it were speaking to her, as if it applied directly to her life. It was always just a bunch of words or wise sayings. Now, even though there were parts she didn’t understand, she read on until she reached some words that almost jumped off the page.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ. . . . For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
I am loved.
I am saved.
I am God’s child.
She put down her number 2 pencil, sat back, and looked at the list of truths. She couldn’t wait to show Mrs. Brooks. She felt something strange inside. It wasn’t white light and angels singing. It was what Mrs. Brooks had encouraged her to pray. She was seeing the truth about herself and God. And she felt as if God was right there helping her understand and see things she couldn’t see on her own.
As she studied the list, she knew these things were now true of her, not because she was a good person or had earned points with God, but because she was in Christ. She had asked Him to forgive her and change her. So when God looked at her life, He didn’t see everything bad she had done. He saw Jesus’ life and everything He had done for her. She didn’t understand how all of that worked, but she knew it was true.
Hannah set aside her Bible and notebook. She had to get outside, into the sunlight. She left the house and jogged toward the river and along the winding, paved pathway. There was a lightness to her steps, a freedom to run, a step-by-step release that was simply her response to what God had done and was doing. She ran fast, taking longer strides, using her arms to propel her farther and faster, the wind and sun on her face. She came to the bend in the river where the water gushed and streamed over the rocks, and she stopped and smiled. The water was deep and
powerful, like the grace and mercy of God. The water was His love for her and the sound of it spoke like a whisper to her heart. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t abandoned. She wasn’t guilty. God had plans for her, good things for her to do in the power only He could offer. Good things He had prepared for her to walk in. Good things to run in.
I can run for God’s glory, she thought. I can let His power be at work in me with every step, every breath.
She didn’t care who saw her. She didn’t care what anybody thought about the girl by the river who was lifting her hands high, her arms spread wide. She looked at the heavens and said, “Thank You.”
CHAPTER 31
Troy Finkle caught John in the school hallway, as he was prone to do. John liked to help other staff members where he was needed, but judging more drama monologues was about as exciting as a root canal. Troy insisted.
John sighed. “Troy, you don’t need me.”
“Yes, I do. You’re a judge! And I even have a part for you in the spring play. You don’t even have to audition.”
“Good, because I’m not doing it.”
“Too late, I’ve already given you the part. We’ll talk details soon. Now, come to drama class sixth period.”
Two hours later, John found himself sitting at the judges’ table, listening to one lifeless monologue after another. He tried to focus on the performances, but again, all the students seemed to miss the heart of the material they delivered. When the last one had finished, John handed Troy his notes as the kids waited for the bell.
Something caught his eye in the wings to the left of the stage. Hannah stood by a curtain, staring at him. She glanced at the students on the risers and took a breath. There was something about the way she looked at John. What was going on? Was she having an asthma attack?
