by Delia Latham
She nodded, and her answering smile seemed a little more assured, somewhat less shaky than it had a moment before. “Thank you for helping. I wouldn’t have had a clue where to find what I needed.”
“No problem. I’m surprised I knew.”
A soft knock on the door interrupted their quiet conversation, and Raine stuck her head in. “Pastor’s introducing you now, Summer. Ready?”
She stood up straight and pulled in a slow breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
One more tight squeeze, one more whispered reassurance, and Logan released her. She followed Raine back to the common room, and he returned to his seat at the back of the room and picked up the glass of iced tea he’d left beside his chair.
The pastor placed a hand on Summer’s shoulder when she reached his side.
Logan hoped she felt the reassurance and confidence his friend was trying to impart.
“Listen up, you young hooligans. This is Summer. She has something to share, and even I don’t what it is, so I’ll be all ears, right along with you guys.” He swung his gaze to the fourteen kids seated around the room and lifted both eyebrows. “I expect you to give this lady the same respect you always give me. I know I can trust you to do that. She’s sacrificing valuable time to be here today. Let’s show our gratitude by being respectful and attentive while she speaks. If you have questions, please wait until Summer gives the go-ahead to ask them. Got it?”
Most of the kids replied with either a nod or a quietly spoken assent.
“They’re all yours.” Brady gave Summer a wink and a big grin and then claimed the chair next to Logan.
“Hi, everyone.” Summer’s voice trembled, but she managed to smile at the group of teens and made eye contact with a few of them before fixing her gaze on Logan.
He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. God, please give her strength and courage. She’s trying so hard to be obedient. I’m asking for a little extra for the woman I love, Lord. Please let her feel Your presence beside her right now. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Brady touched his shoulder. “She’ll do fine,” he whispered. “I felt God’s assurance the instant Raine told me Summer wanted to say something.”
Logan nodded and returned his attention to the front of the room. Summer stood, wide-eyed, staring off into the distance. For a heart-stopping second, he couldn’t breathe. No, Lord, please—not stage fright!
And then she smiled and almost visibly relaxed.
Was that an actual glow he saw around her, like some kind of white-gold aura?
“What in the world…?” Brady breathed.
“You see it too?”
The pastor nodded. “Yeah. I see it.”
Summer started talking then, the tell-tale tremor completely gone from her voice. She spoke with confidence and assurance, but in the soft, sweet tones Logan so loved.
“I came here today at Raine’s invitation, but only to observe. To visit a little with all of you, and check out your new home—I’ve heard so much about Chrysalis! But God changed those plans and asked me to say something to you guys.”
Her gaze landed repeatedly on a young woman sitting alone—not in the group of folding chairs with the other kids, but curled up on one end of the sofa beside the fireplace.
Something in the girl’s too-thin face caught Logan’s attention, and his heart responded with prayer. Whatever Summer had to say today had a whole lot to do with that girl. He felt it in his soul.
“If only because you’re here at the shelter, I know your lives have not been perfect—but then, few people can say they’ve had perfect lives. Yours have almost certainly been even less ideal than most. I wish that weren’t true, and I hurt for each of you. But I do not pity any of you.”
Logan glanced at Brady, who had scooted to the edge of his seat. Although the minister’s gaze traveled the room, watching the reactions of the teens, his overall expression seemed a bit off. Trance-like.
Frowning, Logan sought out Raine’s location. She leaned against a doorframe across the room, and yes, she also appeared somewhat mesmerized. Her wide, green gaze was fixed on Summer, lips slightly parted, body completely still.
What’s going on? The teens all wore the same intensely focused expression. Logan’s heart thudded against his chest. God, what are You doing?
Trust Me, son.
Yes, Father. I do.
Logan leaned back and listened.
“I have something for each of you—just a little token that will help you remember in days to come what I will tell you today. But first, since I see each of you has a Bible, let’s read a Scripture, shall we?” Summer picked up a Bible Brady had left on the podium and flipped it open. “I’ll be reading several verses, and as I read, I’d like you to listen for the theme that ties them all together. Let’s start with Jeremiah 1:5.”
The kids fumbled with their Bibles, some of them more than others. Not a single teen appeared familiar with the Word of God. Logan’s heart ached for them. Had they been raised with the Bible at their fingertips, how different might their lives have been?
Summer’s voice rose above the rustle of turning pages.
“‘Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.’ Take a moment to consider what that means—how long God has known you. While you’re thinking, I’ll find Psalm 139 and read verses thirteen through sixteen.”
Logan glanced at the Bible someone had left on a table beside him. English Standard Version. That’s why the words seemed a little different from his preferred King James Version. Probably a good thing, though. The kids were far more likely to understand the simpler, more modern terminology. Of all the people in the large room, only he seemed capable of tearing his gaze away from Summer. He studied the small group, mystified and amazed. Summer’s sweet voice flowed over his senses as she read.
“‘For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.’”
Summer looked up and out at the teens. “As we’re reading these scriptures, I’d like each of you to take them very, very personally. Apply them to yourself, because that’s who they’re talking about.” She smiled at a young man on the front row of chairs. “What’s your name?”
The kid blinked as if he’d just awakened. “Um…uh…Joseph. I mean, uh, Joey. My name’s Joey.”
A wave of amused laughter followed the kid’s stumbling response, but it died away as soon as Summer spoke again.
“Well, Joey, let me read a portion of this scripture again, OK?” She returned her gaze to the Bible and read again. “For you formed Joey’s inward parts; you knitted Joey together in his mother's womb.’” She looked up. “That’s how I want each of you to look at these verses—as if they’re written about you individually. Because, as hard as it may be for you to believe right now, they really are. OK, let’s move on to Isaiah 43: 4.”
She read verse after verse, all about how much God loves His people, how precious they are in His sight. With every verse, she became more confident.
Love and admiration swelled Logan’s heart near to bursting. Every time he thought he loved Summer as much as anyone could possibly love another, she did something that made him love her more.
After reading half a dozen or so verses, she laid the Bible aside.
“So…can anyone tell me what central theme ran through all of the scriptures we just read?”
At first, everyone seemed hesitant to answer, but then a girl in the middle row raised a tentative hand, and Summer nodded.
“Love? That God loves us?”
“Absolutely. You got it. Great job. But if you look at these verses closely, you’ll
begin to see that God doesn’t just love us. We are His pride and joy, His crowning achievement. The apple of His eye—remember the verse in Zechariah? Hey, listen to this, guys—we are the cherry on top of God’s hot fudge sundae.”
Another wave of laughter warmed the room, and Logan grinned at the visual of God seated on a huge golden throne eating a supreme hot fudge sundae with a silver spoon.
“No One else has known you—you, Joey—since before you were even conceived. No One else loves you enough to keep count of the hairs on your head. No One else cares about you enough to die so you can be saved. No One but Jesus Christ, and He loves you unconditionally. Just as you are, forever and always.”
Summer met Logan’s gaze. “Logan, would you mind passing out those little tokens I brought along? Kids, do me a favor, please, and don’t turn them over until I give the word.”
He pulled the box of items from beneath his chair and distributed them upside down amongst the kids just as Summer had instructed, so that only the sparkle of fake jewels was visible.
When he stood in front of the girl who sat apart from the others, she barely looked up. A shadow of something heartbreaking crossed her face as she reluctantly accepted the gift he offered. Fear? Terror? Revulsion? Whatever it was, Logan’s stomach curdled as he wondered what the kid had endured to make her fear even the slightest contact.
He nodded to Summer, letting her know everyone had their token.
She stepped out from behind the podium and walked slowly to the rows of chairs, meeting the gaze of each teen in the room. “In just a moment, I’ll show you what God finds beautiful. What He loves more than all the riches in this world and beyond. The one thing that makes the heart of the King of Kings beat faster. You’ll see, right here, right now, what it is that God values most of all.” She stopped beside the girl at the fireplace. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
The teen lowered her eyelashes, and her pale face went even whiter.
Summer knelt next to her. “Just tell me. You don’t have to speak to everyone.”
Slowly, the kid lifted her gaze and met Summer’s. A tiny smile teased at the corners of her lips. “Reta,” she said. “With an e.”
“I love it and especially with an e.” Summer rose and pointed to the item clutched in the girl’s bony fingers. “Well, Reta…are you ready to see what’s on the other side?”
The girl nodded.
Summer turned to the rest of the group. “You guys ready too?”
Everyone nodded.
“Well, OK. I know you’re a pretty smart group, and you probably already know what you’re holding, but play along anyway, all right?” She grinned when a titter of laughter arose. “I see you rolling your eyes, but that’s OK, because it doesn’t change the truth of this little object lesson in the least. I’m here today because God wanted me to tell you—all of you, and each of you individually—how beautiful you are to Him. He wanted me to tell you a secret. Are you ready to hear it?”
The kids all nodded.
Logan got the feeling they weren’t paying dutiful respect because Brady had asked them to. They genuinely wanted to hear what the pretty lady up front was telling them.
“Good. Here it is.” She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You are God’s favorite.”
A moment of silence followed her dramatically delivered statement.
Finally, a small, hesitant voice piped up without first having raised a hand, but no one seemed to mind. “Who?”
The hope in the girl’s voice sent a lance of pain through Logan’s heart. The kid so clearly wanted the answer to be, “Why, you, of course.”
Summer fixed her gaze on the girl, and her lips curved into the most gorgeous smile Logan had ever seen in his entire life.
“Why, you, of course. You are God’s very favorite.” She then pointed to the girl next to that one. “And you.” She went around the room, one at a time, pointing at each and every teen in attendance. “And you. And you. And you.” When she’d told every single young person that they were God’s favorite, she returned to the front of the room. “Now, about that little thing you’re holding. Pretty, isn’t it?”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement.
She continued. “I agree. It’s pretty. But it’s only sparkle and shine.”
Logan grinned. Yep, she was doing just what he’d thought she was.
“It’s cheap, fake bling. It means nothing, and serves no purpose other than an aesthetic one. Just surface stuff that really doesn’t matter, you know?” She smiled. “Now, I’ll show you what does matter. On the count of three, I’d like each of you to turn over your little object and lift it up in front of your face. One…two…three.”
All the teens lifted their mirrors and looked into them.
Summer turned to one of the young men. “What do you see?”
He shrugged. “Me. It’s a mirror.”
“Oh, no…it’s so much more than that.” She tilted her head, studying the young man’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Kyle.”
“Well, Kyle, you listen up, OK?” She looked around the group, pulling each of them into her gaze. “Look again, everyone. Let me tell you what you’re looking at.”
Logan tried to grin, but he had to do it through blurry eyes when she began reciting the truth her mother had instilled in her so long ago, almost word for word as she’d related it to Logan.
“The person in that mirror is a child of God! A prince or a princess—the much-loved child of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. The reflection you’re looking at is the perfect, cherished heir of Jesus Christ. No matter what happens to you in this life, or what others might say to or about you…never ever forget who you are. You are loved. You are royalty. You are God’s beautiful, chosen child!” Tears streamed down her face.
Logan discovered they had overflowed and dampened his own cheeks, as well. A quick glimpse at Brady and Raine showed him two more tear-streaked faces.
“That’s what God sent me here to tell you today. He made a special effort to get a shy writer who never speaks in public to come here and bring you a message directly from Him. You are his very favorite child. That means you, Joey. And you, Reta. Kyle, you too. Everyone in this room today is God’s special, chosen, ultimately loved, and favorite child!” She brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Several teens were swiping at moisture on their cheeks too.
“Thank you—all of you—for being so respectful and attentive. You’re great kids, and I’ve enjoyed your company. But this is just one day in your life, and I’m just a lady who walked in off the street and took up a few minutes of your time. You’ll forget all about me someday, and that’s all right. Just please…please, don’t forget the love letter God sent just for you today. You’re special. You’re beautiful to the Creator of the Universe. You’re His favorite, chosen child, and He loves you more than anyone else ever could. He loves each of you the very most.” She started to walk away, and then turned back again. “For the rest of the day, and maybe the rest of your lives, I hope you’ll think of yourself as the cherry on top of God’s hot fudge sundae.” She searched the room, found Brady, and gave him a little nod.
Logan met her halfway across the room and pulled her into his arms. He ached to kiss her, but they had an audience of teens, so he whispered into her ear instead. “You were fantastic, honey. Spellbinding. Beautiful.” He stepped back and looked into her eyes. “I feel a little like God right now.”
She laughed. “Like God?”
“Well, yeah. I know He loves you most, but you’re the cherry on top of my hot fudge sundae too.”
14
The rest of the week passed in a blur of Summer’s writing sessions on the beach, visits to some of Logan’s favorite spots in the area, and—in every unoccupied moment—deep concern over Deah’s continuing role as attentive caregiver.
Miss Angie had begun limping around her place several days earlier but not venturing outside, pe
r Dr. Luke’s instructions. When he finally released her to go about as she wished, using a cane and taking great care not to trip and fall, Summer wasn’t sure if she was more glad that Miss Angie was better or that Deah was coming back upstairs away from their hostess. The longer her cousin remained in her current role, the uglier her resulting crash would likely be.
On Saturday, while the other girl settled back into their apartment, Summer retreated to her hideaway on the beach. But even as she wrote, the situation with Deah teased at her conscience.
Her cousin had maintained the role longer than Summer had thought possible. The façade was bound to be getting thin and would surely crumble at any moment. With Deah out of Miss Angie’s place and free to return to her usual routine, maybe Summer’s friends wouldn’t be subjected to the not-so-pretty side of the girl’s personality.
There is none perfect, daughter.
Summer looked up from the scene she’d been writing, startled by the near-audible voice. No one was there, of course. She’d been alone on the beach all morning, and making great progress on her manuscript. With an uncomfortable chuckle at her own imagination, she saved her file and closed the laptop, ready to return to the lodge. She remained thoughtful as she climbed down the rock formation that had become her vacation office.
Deah had been all sweetness and light for a full week. By now, she’d be spoiling for a little fun.
Summer almost dreaded reaching the apartment. She would most likely take the brunt of her cousin’s frustration until Deah could get out and do whatever it was she did to burn off steam. Well, Summer would just have to endure, as always.
Deah would be gone when the sun went down, and the unexpected and unfamiliar role she’d been playing would be a thing of the past.
Deah is my child, Daughter. My special, chosen, ultimately loved, favorite child.
