A Chance at Love

by T. K. Chapin

  “Is that how Emily is for you?” she asked.

  My eyes began to water as my inner self felt a sense of hopelessness overtake me in the moment. “I don’t know how I’ll get to be with Emily, but I’m going to fight to be with her. If tears happen, which they will, they’re all worth it for her.” Wiping the runaway tear from my cheek, I smiled and said, “I’d rather struggle with her parents for years trying to get to her than to be with anyone else.”

  Joanie smiled. “I hope I find my knight in shining armor someday.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Sitting up in my bed the next day, I felt an overwhelming sadness surround me. I had barely a wink of sleep the night before. I tossed and turned as I thought about that last glimpse of Emily and the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. Scooting up on my bed, I rested my back against the wall. Pulling my knees to my chest, I bowed my head and began to pray to God that he would bring me comfort. My grandmother had told me when I visited her that when my grandpa passed, she spent months praying almost continually for comfort, and God provided it.

  I feel so confused and lost, God. It might be young love, but it’s real to me. Please help me understand what I’m supposed to do. Amen.

  Raising my eyes, I looked across my room and saw my new–to-me Bible. I needed God, and His Word sounded like a good place to start. I thought of Emily saying her favorite verse was Psalms 119:105, but I couldn’t recall it exactly.

  Getting up, I retrieved the Bible from the bookshelf and sat down at my desk, flipping through the books of the Bible. I came to Psalms. As I hunted for the chapter, I flipped through dozens of pages highlighted in blues, greens and yellows. Some of the pages were riddled with notes up and down the sides. Slowing down as I hit chapter 119, I read one of the notes. It read: Good stuff! and a large arrow was drawn down the side of the page to verse 50.

  “My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.”

  I read the verse a few times as I felt a little confused by it. Putting it on the backburner of my mind, I went forward to Emily’s verse, 105.

  “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.”

  Reading over the words, they brought me comfort. Maybe she’ll answer, I thought to myself, glancing over my shoulder at my phone on the nightstand. Maybe her parents chilled out after sleeping on it.

  I carried my Bible with me over to my nightstand. Picking up my phone, I called her.

  “The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

  Click.

  Sighing, I slipped the phone into my pocket and dropped the Bible onto the bed. Going into my closet, I grabbed my work shirt and slipped it on as I walked back out. As the shirt came over my head, I saw my Bible open.

  That’s weird, I thought, heading over to it. It had opened to the spot in Proverbs I had marked the other day. Sitting down, I saw the verse from the other day. Proverbs 16:3

  “Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.”

  My eyes welled with tears as I felt God’s Word sink into my bones. I need to commit this to Him, I thought. Nodding, I bowed my head and committed my turmoil to him. I took my Bible and returned it to my bookshelf.

  Coming out of my room and down the hallway, I glanced into Joanie’s open doorway. She wasn’t in there—most likely at school. Recalling her sadness over Tony, I prayed as I grabbed her doorknob and shut the door.

  Arriving in the kitchen, I saw my father at the table. Going past him to the coffee pot, I began to pour a cup.

  “You look tired,” he remarked. “Late night?”

  Nodding as I turned and came over to the table, I said, “My car is in the shop.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Why? What happened?”

  After explaining the story to him, he said, “That’s moronic. I’m sorry her parents are being like that. That’s a big reason we don’t go to church, Son.”

  “Because of people like her parents?”

  “Exactly. They refer to themselves as Christians, yet they act like a bunch of hypocritical jerks. I don’t understand how people who serve God can be so selfish and stupid.”

  “So you don’t go because the people aren’t perfect?”

  He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “No . . . it’s more than that. I just don’t want to spend time with a bunch of fake people.”

  My curiosity got the better of me as I thought about how he believes in God and yet does nothing about it. “What are you?”

  “Excuse me?” he replied, furrowing his eyebrows.

  “Forget it.”

  “No. Go on, Son. Explain.”

  Shrugging, I replied, “Okay. The other day you told me you believe in God. You want to call people that go to church hypocrites? Here’s a verse for ya. ‘Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.’ You know that verse?”

  “Somewhere in Psalms, right?”

  “Yes it is. How do you believe in that but keep hidden the fact that you and Mom went to church and believe in God? If you believe in God and the Bible was inspired by Him, why would you neglect to follow it? If you believe that the Word is a lamp for your feet that leads your way in this life, why wouldn’t you share that kind of thing with your children? Aren’t you the biggest hypocrite of us all by not going?”

  “I can’t follow the Bible perfectly. Nobody can, and I am trying now. I’ve even been talking to your sister,” he deflected.

  “And yet, not even a few minutes ago, you were saying that people in church are hypocrites. In a way, it’s all hypocritical. I think it’s just an excuse.” Standing up, I dumped my coffee out in the sink and stormed out the side door of the kitchen to make my escape.

  Stepping outside, I remembered that my car was in the shop. “Ugh!” I shouted. Turning around, I went inside and asked, “Can I take the truck?”

  “Keys are upstairs on the dresser.” He didn’t make eye contact with me and kept his lips pressed together as he seemed to be withholding a statement.

  “Thanks,” I replied curtly, hurrying through the kitchen.

  “Kyle,” he said as I passed through the doorway. Stopping, I turned back to look at him as he still sat at the table.

  “You need to show me a little bit more respect if you want to make it until summer around here.” He stood up and walked outside.

  Clenching my jaw, I continued onward up the stairs and to my parents’ bedroom. What a jerk, I thought to myself as I moved knick-knacks as I looked for the truck keys. My mother walked in with a basket of laundry on her hip. I found the keys and turned to leave.

  “Whoa . . .” she said. “What’s wrong?” she asked, pressing her palm against my chest before I was able to get by her.

  “Nothing.”

  “Kyle . . .”

  “It’s Dad. He’s a jerk. I proved him wrong and he got all mad. And another thing, it’s kind of irritating that you guys didn’t take us to church. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I need to go.”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “We did what we thought was right at the time. We’ve always been a little more liberal than most church-goers . . . over time, we just forgot about church. I know that sounds bad.”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “What about now, Mom? You said before that you guys were working on it.”

  She shrugged. “That’s our journey, Kyle. You don’t need to worry about it. Focus on Kyle.” Looking at the truck keys in my hand, she asked, “What’s wrong with your car?”

  Telling her the story, she gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. Her eyes watered as she touched my face, and I could tell that her words were genuine as she said, “Her parents will come around. You have to hang onto the hope that it will work out. By the way, your grandmother is feeling a little sick. Thought you might want to know.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I replied. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I saw it was just ten minutes until my shift at Pilo’s at eleven. “I�
��d better get to work.”

  After the lunch rush of deliveries, Mike showed up around three that afternoon. Seeing him walk through that back door filled me with a sense of relief.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, coming over to clock in on the computer next to me on the counter.

  “Man, I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you a little bit about that girl, Emily.”

  Seeing Jessica pop out of the manager’s office a few feet away, I thought she overheard me and was on her way over to get after me. Turning, I tried to look busy by looking at the screen as Mike logged in. She came over to us, and I could feel the anxiety rise up in me as she approached. My heart began to race.

  “Hey, you two.”

  We both turned, my nerves unhinged as I prepared for the mental flogging. Something strange happened though. She smiled.

  “Hi, Jessica. What’s up?” Mike asked.

  “I got my daughter back.”

  A daughter? I didn’t know she had a daughter, I thought to myself. “Oh?” I replied.

  “I’ve been fighting with her Dad in the courts for a year. He decided to move back to Spokane, and now I can see her whenever I want.”

  “Wow. That’s awesome,” Mike said.

  “Yeah. Congratulations, Jessica,” I added.

  Her smile remained, and she nodded as she went strolling over to the make line to start throwing an order together.

  “Could you guys grab a couple of cans of sauce from the back? We’re about out up here,” she asked from the make table as she scraped and scooped the last of the sauce onto a pan of dough.

  “Yeah.” Looking over at Mike, I raised a brow, and we headed toward the back. On the way around the corner, I said, “What on earth was that? She’s like . . . a different person.”

  Mike nodded. “It’s crazy how little we know about people. We don’t understand their struggles at all. What’d you want to talk to me about?” he asked as he grabbed a can of sauce and handed it to me.

  The phone rang up front as I was about to start the story of what happened with Emily. “Maybe we can meet up for a late night cup of coffee after work?” I asked.

  “I’m tied up after work tonight. I saw you weren’t on the schedule tomorrow, though. Why don’t you stop by our Men of God meeting tomorrow? Seven o’clock. We can chat before or after.”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Slipping out of my house undetected by my parents the next morning, I took my dad’s truck and headed up to Chattaroy to go see my grandma. She wasn’t feeling well, according to my mother, and I hadn’t had a chance to really tell her any recent developments with Emily. As I turned onto Elk Chattaroy Road that morning, a beautiful orange and yellow sunrise came up over the tops of the pine trees. While there was plenty in my life to be sad about in that moment, it didn’t stop me from enjoying God’s blessings.

  Rolling my window down to let in the cool air, I felt a sense of calmness. I had been praying off and on all the way out to her house that morning. The forbiddance that Emily’s parents had placed on us kindled anger within me that only God could subdue through His power.

  When I pulled up to her house, I was surprised when I spotted her sitting outside on the porch in a rocking chair. I squinted as I saw her through my windshield. A bit of confusion set over my mind as I turned off the car and got out.

  “Grandma . . . What are you doing?” I asked as I approached her.

  She dropped her eyes from the tree tops and away from some sort of thought she must have been having. Smiling, she looked at me and said, “Just admiring.”

  “Admiring what?” I asked, looking back toward the trees. “The sun already came up.”

  “God’s never ending beauty.” Standing up, she jerked her head back toward the house and said, “All that stuff we buy and fill our houses with is useless clutter. Out here . . . well, out here you have God speaking to you through everything your eyes can see.”

  Noticing one of her fingers turning white, I said, “Oh, yeah? Is He telling you that frostbite is starting to set in yet?”

  She smiled and patted my shoulder as we turned and went inside the house.

  Coming into the kitchen, I said, “You don’t seem sick. Maybe a little crazy, but not sick.” We sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Ah, I’m fine. I just had a little bug,” she replied as she reached over and situated the newspaper that was lying scattered on the table.

  “Well that’s good.”

  She looked at me with those worn but piercing blue eyes and said, “Your mother tells me you got in a little tiff with your father.”

  I laughed a little under my breath and shook my head. “I’m a bit miffed over them not telling us about their faith.”

  “You can’t let them rob you of your joy.”

  “Well, there’s more going on in my life than I know what to do about, Grandma. I have to find a new place to live by this summer, and Emily’s parents won’t let me see her. Oh, and my so-called best friend freaked out over my conversion to Christianity.”

  She reached her hand over to mine. “Look at me, Kyle,” she said as she clutched my hand.

  I looked up at her.

  “I know you feel like your life might be falling apart right now, but God’s just working on putting it together.”

  “By destroying everything?” I retorted.

  “Hey,” she said in a sharp tone. “Don’t you put those bad things on Him. He’s molding with what He has to work with in your life. Doesn’t mean He caused it. Just stay flexible, humble and malleable.”

  I nodded. “It’s hard to do that when it feels like everything is getting more screwed up with each passing day.”

  “Keep relying on Him and the promises He has for you. Look at this.” She reached over and grabbed her Bible that sat on top of the small television set on the table and opened it. Licking her thumb, she flipped through the pages and then stopped, pushed the Bible over to me, and pointed to a verse. “Read it.”

  Looking down, I began to read it out loud. “Isaiah 40:31. ‘But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.’”

  It was the exact right thing I needed to read in that moment, and it reminded me of grandpa’s note that I had found. Looking up from the pages, I said, “This is perfect, and it reminds me. Yesterday, I was reading a note that Grandpa had left in his Bible on one of the pages.”

  Her eyebrow shot up in intrigue. “He did that often. What’d it say?”

  “It said good stuff! And then a large arrow ran down the side of the page and pointed to Psalms 119:50.”

  She pulled the Bible back over to her side of the table and began to flip through it. “Let’s find it.” She went to the passage and read it out loud. “My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life.”

  “Yeah.” Leaning in, I said, “What’s that mean? What promise? And preserves my life? Like, I won’t die?”

  She stood up and went over to the counter. Grabbing her phone, she came back over and started doing something on it. “I’m looking up the King James Version to make sure I’m right before I say anything.”

  I waited quietly as I mulled the verse over again in my mind.

  “Yep. Okay. Here’s the King James Version. “‘This is my comfort in my affliction: for thy word hath quickened me.’ Quickening in the Bible means to be restored or renewed. David, the author, knew that even though he was in affliction, he had hope in God. He knew God would restore and revive him.”

  “And so he clung to that promise,” I added.

  “Yep. God’s promises will always sustain you in difficult times, Kyle. You must rely on Him. We can’t always trust people and what they say, but we can and should when it comes to God. He can’t and will never lie.” She raised her phone as she continued, “And with today’s technology . . .” She shook her head. “There’
s no reason you can’t hop online and find Scripture for anything you’re struggling with that particular day.”

  “You use the internet quite a bit?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes! I even have this nifty little devotional that pops up every day in my email.”

  I nodded.

  As she closed the Bible and put it back and set her phone down on the table, she said, “Tell me something good that’s going on right now.”

  “I’m going to this men’s group tonight.”

  She grinned. “Oh, wow. Really? What’s that about?”

  “Christian men . . . that’s about the extent of what I know. A buddy at work invited me to stop by and check it out. Figured it’d be good to be around other believers. Speaking of, you still want me to pick you up for service on Sunday?”

  “Sounds like it should be good for you. Of course. I’ll be ready for you.”

  Spending the rest of the morning with my grandmother warmed my soul and helped me see that God was in control. He was working day and night on my behalf, and I knew He’d work everything out.

  Before heading back to town, I texted Joanie and asked her if she wanted me to pick her up after school to go grab a bite at Kelsey’s, a sandwich shop. She agreed without hesitation and said she needed to talk to me anyway.

  When I parked outside of my old stomping grounds of less than a year ago, I smiled when I saw Mrs. Trey walking out of a side door. She was tough as nails in the class I took with her, but she taught me more about life than any other teacher I had encountered. She would do this thing every once in a while where she’d skip the biology lesson for the day and just do a lecture on a life lesson instead. She would tell us all the time in these life lessons that we were the foundation and future of America, and if we wanted the nation to be great, we had to cultivate greatness within us. She was under the belief that society was dumbing down more with each passing year, which I had always felt was accurate.