Her dad smiled.
“Well, my creed is what I believe about staying pure.” Sierra took another bite and chewed slowly. She had felt so spiritual a few months a go when she wrote all this out. Now she felt silly and embarrassed talking about it with her dad. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but she did.
“What does your creed say?”
“It just says that my body is a gift and that God gets to decide who to give the gift to, not me. And the best presents are the ones that are all wrapped up, not the ones that have been opened and rewrapped and now the paper is torn or the bow is squished or the tape no longer sticks. Do you know what I mean?”
Her dad was smiling softly, and his eyes were starting to get all crinkly in the corners. He nodded, urging her to continue.
“That’s it, basically. I believe God’s best plan is for me to be like a wrapped present. Then, when I get married, I can completely give myself to my husband for the first time, and he’ll know that I’m a special gift just for him.”
There. That wasn’t so embarrassing. Why do I feel so self-conscious about all this? Sierra wondered.
A tear glistened in the corner of her dad’s eye, and he tilted his head down, moving his manicotti around on his plate. Then, lifting his face, he said, “That’s beautiful, honey. I could never have said it better. That’s exactly what you are: a very special and wonderful gift. I’m proud of you.”
Amy stepped up to their table and leaned toward Sierra, breaking the moment.
“Sierra, guess what?” Amy said breathlessly, her dark eyes dancing. “He asked me out! For Tuesday, just like I thought. We have to go shopping this weekend, Sierra! I have to get something new to wear.”
“Okay,” Sierra agreed. It was hard to switch into Amy’s dreamworld when she and her dad were in the middle of this delicate conversation.
“Aren’t you excited for me?” Amy said.
“Yes, of course I am. That’s great.” Sierra wished she could really feel happy for her friend—Nathan didn’t impress Sierra as exactly the catch of the day. But maybe she was jumping to conclusions.
“I’m so excited!” Amy said, giving Sierra’s arm a squeeze before hurrying back to the hostess station.
“Girl talk?” her dad asked.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“No problem. I’m about ready for dessert. How about you?”
“Sure.”
When Wes stopped by their table a few minutes later, they ordered the tiramisu based on his recommendation. Sierra also ordered herb tea and watched Nathan out of the corner of her eye.
“May I take those plates for you?” Randy reached for Sierra’s plate and empty bread plate. “Oh, you guys had Tony’s bread. Good stuff, isn’t it?”
“It was,” Sierra agreed. “So was the manicotti.”
“It looks good tonight,” Randy said. “I get my break in ten minutes, and I think that’s what I’m going to have. I’ll see you later.”
With the table cleared, Sierra’s dad brushed away a few crumbs and then pulled a piece of paper from inside his coat pocket. “I wrote down a few things,” he said, “but I don’t know if I need to say many of them since you’ve taken such a strong position on protecting your purity. I went to a men’s group a couple of weeks ago; I don’t know if you remember. Anyway, the challenge to us dads was to help direct our kids toward purity.”
Sierra remembered how excited her dad had been after that all-day meeting at church. Randy had said his dad had been, too. Now the dinner and this heart-to-heart conversation made sense. This was his assignment, or at least his challenge, from the men’s meeting: to talk to his children about abstinence. Sierra hoped he wasn’t going to list all the reasons for remaining sexually inactive the way her science teacher had last spring. She wasn’t in the mood for a list of STDs right before dessert.
“The first thing on my list here,” her dad began, “is that I want you to know we trust you and your judgment when it comes to relationships. But if at any time you have questions or doubts of any kind, I want you to come to your mother or to me. Okay? You can trust me, as your father, with anything, no matter how embarrassing you might think it is.”
“Okay,” Sierra agreed.
“I mean that, now. You can always talk to your mother and me.”
“I know.”
“The next thing I want to say is that God’s way is always the best way. It’s the only way, really. And God’s Word clearly says He created sex for one man and one woman to share only inside the commitment of marriage.”
Sierra started to feel embarrassed again and wished her dad didn’t have such a loud voice. She hoped the people next to them couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“I have a verse here I wanted to read to you,” her dad said, unfolding the piece of paper in his hands.
Sierra noticed all the tidy little letters lined up in outline form, which was his typical way of writing. He even outlined grocery lists. His letters were all in capitals and always straight, even if there were no lines to follow. She could tell he had spent some time on this.
“I Corinthians 6:19 says, ‘Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own?’” Mr. Jensen looked up from his notes and said, “Actually, that’s just what you were saying. Your body is a gift, and it’s up to God to decide who gets that gift.”
Wesley approached them with a teapot in one hand and a scrumptious-looking chocolate-layered dessert in the other. “Tiramisu for two, cherry almond tea, and I’ll be right back with some more coffee.” He disappeared as quickly as he had come.
“Let me read you verse 20,” her dad said. “‘For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s.’”
Sierra dunked the tea bag into the white pot and decided she didn’t want her tea too strong.
“I know you believe this already,” her father said.
“I do,” Sierra replied.
“I’m proud of the way you’ve given yourself guidelines and written out your creed. I know from experience that being a virgin when you get married is the only way to go.”
Sierra had heard her mom say before that she and her dad were virgins when they married. It sounded a little different coming from her father, though. Comforting. It gave her a sense of hope that maybe somewhere in the world, quality guys were saving themselves for their future wives.
SIERRA SANK HER FORK into the tempting dessert and let the first bite melt in her mouth.
“Oh, this is good,” she said.
Mr. Jensen folded his page of notes and tucked the paper back into his pocket. As Sierra was digging in for a second bite, she noticed her dad was pulling a small black gift box from his inside pocket.
“This is for you,” he said, placing the jewelry box in front of her. “Mom and I wanted you to have this. It’s our way of supporting and affirming your choice to remain pure and to save yourself for your future husband.”
Sierra quickly swallowed the bite in her mouth and looked up with surprise. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
She lifted the hinged lid on the velvet-lined box. There, wedged in the padded slot, was a simple gold ring.
Gold!? I only wear silver. Why did they get me a gold ring?
“Look on the inside,” her dad urged. His face was red with anticipation. Sierra didn’t dare mention that she never wore anything gold.
Inside the thin band was engraved “1 Cor. 6:19–20.”
“Those are the verses you read to me,” Sierra said.
Mr. Jensen nodded enthusiastically. “It’ll be a reminder to you always that you belong to God and that, as you said, your body is a gift that should stay wrapped up until your wedding night.”
“Thanks.” Sierra didn’t know what else to say.
“Try it on.”
She wasn’t sure on which hand such a ring should be worn. She decided to slip
it onto the ring finger on her right hand. It somehow felt as if that was where it ought to be.
“It’s nice,” she said, giving her dad the smile he was waiting for. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He plunged his fork into the dessert before him.
Sierra glanced at the ring and then took another bite of dessert. It seemed strange to wear jewelry she hadn’t selected for herself. And the gold was really going to take some time to get used to.
Wes returned with the check and looked at Sierra’s hand again. He smiled at Mr. Jensen and said to Sierra, “Do you like it? I helped him pick it out.”
“Yes. It’s nice.”
“Dad said you only liked silver, but I convinced him that the gold is what would set this ring apart. This way it doesn’t look like costume jewelry. Makes it unique.”
As Wes was speaking, Sierra noticed for the first time that he wore a similar gold band on his right hand. “When did you get that?” she asked, nodding at his ring.
“Last week when Dad got your ring. He bought one for Tawni, too.”
“You and Dad went out on a ‘date,’ and I didn’t hear about it?” Sierra teased.
“No. He gave me my ring in the car on the way back from the jeweler. Only you and Tawni get the special treatment.” Wes picked up the small tray with the check and Mr. Jensen’s credit card. “I’ll be right back.”
Sierra turned to her dad and asked, “When are you going to give Tawni her ring?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, drawing a deep breath. “I thought about having you take it to her next week when you go visit. It wouldn’t be as special as this, of course, but I don’t know when she’ll be back up. Either that or I might just have to make a special trip down there.”
“She would probably appreciate that,” Sierra said. She didn’t feel confident she would be able to deliver such a ring to her sister and that it would have the meaning it was supposed to.
Mr. Jensen signed the credit card voucher, and as he took his copy, Sierra noticed he left an extremely generous tip for Wes. He got up to go. Sierra scooped up her corsage and held it more confidently as they walked through the restaurant.
As they were about to exit, Randy came up and said, “Are you going to the Highland House tomorrow?”
“No, not until Monday. I work all day tomorrow.”
“Me, too,” Randy said. His job busing tables was only two nights a week, but he also had a lawn-care business that kept him busy five and sometimes six days a week. “I’ll see you later,” he said before hustling off to clear more tables.
Amy pulled Sierra to the side before they left the restaurant. A throng of people were in the waiting area. “Call me tomorrow morning before you go to work, okay? I was thinking I wouldn’t have to buy anything new if I could borrow your blue gauze skirt. It would go with that crushed velvet top I just bought.”
“You can borrow it,” Sierra said. “Only you’ll have to come over and help me dig for it. My room is a mess.”
“I know what you mean. I haven’t been home long enough to clean mine.”
“That’s the excuse I keep using, too,” Sierra said. “I’ll call you.”
Sierra’s dad held the door open for her, and they strolled to the parking lot. She didn’t feel nearly as embarrassed as she had going in. She wished she had worn the corsage, just to make her dad happy.
“You know, I hope you don’t lose any of your spunk,” her dad said.
“Lose any of my spunk?”
“I’m just saying you have your own style. Your own charm and vivacity. I just hope you always keep that when it comes to your relationships with guys.”
He opened the car door and Sierra got in, carefully pulling on her short skirt to keep it down.
“Are you afraid I won’t?” Sierra asked once her dad was in the car. “I mean, that I won’t keep being myself around guys?”
“No, I believe you will always be yourself no matter whom you’re around. That’s one of your strong suits. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have some pretty high standards, and I support all of your goals 100 percent.”
“But…” Sierra nudged him on.
“Just don’t forget you’re a teenager. You’re supposed to have fun during this time. You can keep all your virtue intact and still enjoy yourself. That’s all I’m trying to say. Don’t get too serious, thinking that any guy you go out with is on trial as future husband material. Relax and enjoy the chance to make a lot of friends. God will bring the right man into your life at the right time.”
Sierra took her dad’s words to heart and wrote them out, as best as she could remember them, in her journal that night. Her dad was right. She needed to have fun, too, and not always feel as if she were scoping out every guy to see how spiritual he was.
Closing her journal and snapping off the light, Sierra snuggled under the cool sheets. She felt her new ring with her thumb and twisted it around her ring finger. It felt smooth and light.
Outside her open window, a frog had joined the chorus of nightly cricket chirpers. The warm summer breeze ruffled her sheer bedroom curtains, making them look like dancing spirits in the glow of the streetlight below.
Her thoughts floated to Paul. For many months she had prayed for him. At the end of the school year, her brief dreams of a romance with him were dashed when he had the nerve to ask if she had a crush on him.
What Sierra felt for Paul Mackenzie did not fall into the “crush” category. It was something so deep that she didn’t even know what to call it. Maybe it was the intense spiritual connection she felt from all the times she had prayed for him. Or maybe it was nothing but an illusion she had allowed herself to entertain for too long. Sierra knew she was capable of talking herself into anything—even into believing there was still something between her and Paul.
But she had no pinch of evidence that he was interested in her. In many ways, Sierra was better off forgetting all about him. It made much more sense to pour her emotional energy into her friendship with Randy. That was a relationship with genuine openness and honesty. A friendship of daylight and solid evidence, not one of fleeting wishes and dreams in the night.
The hardest thing for Sierra was that she didn’t feel she could talk about these things with Amy or anyone else. The only friend who would understand was Christy. She would see Christy next week, and hopefully the two of them could have a real heart-to-heart. Christy seemed to understand about holding someone in your heart, not only because she was older than Sierra, but also because Christy had found the true love of her life—Todd. They were waiting for God’s direction in their relationship. Christy was the person Sierra admired and wanted to imitate.
She fell asleep praying for Paul and for his time in Scotland, that going to school and visiting his grandmother would be full of rich spiritual growth. The thousands of miles between them couldn’t stop her thoughts from reaching out to Paul. And she knew nothing could stop her prayers for him.
AMY CAME BY SUNDAY EVENING, still excited about her date with Nathan and still determined to borrow Sierra’s blue skirt. The two of them hunted through Sierra’s bedroom for half an hour. Actually, Sierra hunted while Amy sat in the overstuffed chair and chattered endlessly about Nathan.
“I found out at work last night that Nathan loves peanut butter cookies. So I thought I would make some for him as a surprise on Tuesday night. Did I tell you he moved here from Seattle? He says it’s hotter here in the summer than in Seattle. Hey, is that it? Right there under the jeans. That’s your blue skirt.”
“You’re right,” Sierra said. “This is so ridiculous. I should have been hanging up this stuff while I was looking. Here you go. It’s a wrinkled mess, but you can borrow it. If you decide to wash it, make sure you do it by hand in cold water, then wring it out and let it hang dry.”
“It doesn’t look dirty to me. Isn’t it supposed to be wrinkled? I think it’s perfect.” Amy admired the skirt, then turned to Sierra. “So, are you gettin
g excited about your vacation?”
“I don’t know if it’s really a vacation. I guess it sort of is. But I’m definitely looking forward to it.” Sierra opened her closet door and pulled out a few hangers for her clothes.
“I’d better go,” Amy said. “It’s after nine o’clock already, and Nathan might call.” She stood and turned her ear to the open window, listening. “Is that a frog?”
“Yes. He showed up a few nights ago. I guess he’s trying to compete with all those crickets. Their concert last night kept me awake.”
“They are pretty loud. They must like the flower garden. So many places to hide.”
“That must be it,” Sierra agreed. “Be sure to call and tell me how everything goes with Nathan. My plane leaves at 10:00 on Wednesday morning. So call me when you get home if it’s before eleven or else before nine in the morning.”
“I will. Thanks for the skirt. See you later.”
Amy left in a whirlwind, and Sierra surveyed the rearranged mess in her room.
She flopped onto her bed and listened to the night creatures. Tucking her chin, she lowered her voice to the basement of her range and tried to imitate the croaking frog.
I’ll clean my room tomorrow, she decided.
However, Sierra’s good intentions didn’t work out. Monday night after she finished volunteering at the Highland House, she ended up going with Randy to his band practice. For almost two hours, she sat in a stuffy, closed garage, listening to the four guys work and rework the same song. She couldn’t believe she had agreed to come.
When she and Randy finally left, they stopped for something to eat, and by the time she got home, all she wanted to do was crash. Not even the cricket chorus kept her from floating off into dreamland.
Tuesday was just as hectic. She worked at Mama Bear’s Bakery in the morning, went to the Highland House from two to five and then back to Mama Bear’s for two more hours.
Finally, at eight-thirty on Tuesday night, Sierra scrambled to throw a bunch of clothes into a travel bag and wrap her gift for Doug and Tracy.
Knowing how much Tracy liked tea, Sierra had found a unique Polish potter teapot at the Portland Saturday Market a few weeks earlier. She had discovered teacups at another stand that went nicely with the pot, and now she was having a terrible time trying to wrap it all in tissue and find a box big enough for the gift.
Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 2 Page 22
