A Test of Faith

by Karen Ball

  Heat surged into Anne’s face. “That’s not fair! You know how hard it is for me—”

  “Forget it!” Tears streamed down Faith’s pale cheeks, and she looked from Anne to Jared. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not the perfect little daughter who does everything right. I’m sorry I don’t have the perfect Christian friends who do nothing but pray and praise God all day.”

  She folded her arms, making a physical barrier to match the emotional one between them. “You guys would be happier if I disappeared, wouldn’t you? That’d make you happy, if I was gone!”

  “Stop it!”

  Even Anne jumped at Jared’s bellow.

  “Stop it this instant. I won’t have you saying such things to your mother, or to me.” He went to take hold of their daughter, pulling her into his arms. “We love you, Faith. God in heaven, don’t you know that by now?”

  She stiffened, then suddenly collapsed against him, her weeping joining his in a heartbreaking harmony of grief.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry …”

  Anne lowered herself to Faith’s bed, sitting there, numb, as though wrapped in a cocoon of anguish. Shame warmed her cheeks as she thought about the awful things she’d said to her daughter, how she’d very nearly struck her.

  God, forgive me. I just … I don’t understand! How did this happen? What did I do wrong? Help us. Please, help us.

  Jared looked at Anne over Faith’s head and held a hand out to Anne. She took it and let him pull her into the circle of his arms alongside their daughter.

  She slid a tentative arm around Faith, so afraid she would pull away, but Faith turned to her, burying her face in Anne’s neck.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Anne crooned, rocking her weeping girl. “It’s going to be okay.”

  But even as she spoke the words, Anne couldn’t help but wonder if she was the one who was lying now.

  Shallow

  Soil

  “Other seeds fell on shallow soil with underlying rock.

  The plants sprang up quickly,

  but they soon wilted beneath the hot sun

  and died because the roots had no

  nourishment in the shallow soil.…

  The rocky soil represents those who

  hear the message and receive it with joy.

  But like young plants in such soil,

  their roots don’t go very deep.

  At first they get along fine,

  but they wilt as soon as they have problems

  or are persecuted because they believe the word.”

  MATTHEW 13:5–7, 20–21

  fourteen

  “Don’t fight forces, use them.”

  RICHARD BUCKMINSTER FULLER

  WHY DID THEY MAKE PEWS SO UNCOMFORTABLE? Would it kill someone to make the seats soft?

  Faith shifted in her seat. Fidgeted. Glanced at her father—and bit her lip.

  Fatigue showed in the line of his jaw, the fixed stare he kept on the pastor. Faith had never seen him so weighted by weariness.

  Guilt dug in its spurs, riding her. It was her fights with Mom that had him so worn out. In the months since her mom came to school and found her with Dustin, Faith had tried to do better. She really had. But almost before she knew it, something Mom said or did would set her off.

  It helped a little that they’d agreed she could see Dustin—after, of course, they met him. Knowing how hard it would be to get Dustin to come to her house, she’d set up a meeting on neutral ground, at Denny’s. Mom had been less than thrilled to see Dustin again. Faith had the distinct impression Mom was a little afraid of him. As for Dad…

  Faith could still see the way her dad and Dustin faced off. Dustin was shorter than her dad by about an inch, but from Dustin’s posture, you’d think he was Andre the Giant. He stood there, holding Dad’s gaze, that little smirk on his face. Dad extended his hand, and for one horrible moment, Faith thought Dustin would refuse to take it. But then his hand made a slow rise to shake hands.

  “I’m glad to meet you, Dustin.”

  There was no hint of a smile when her dad said the words. Dustin’s only response was a grunt.

  The meal went as well as could be expected, and though her parents hadn’t exactly been overjoyed, they abided by their agreement. Dustin came to meet them. Faith could continue seeing him.

  Of course, every time she came home from being with Dustin, her mom gave her the fifth degree. Where did they go? Who did they see? What did they do?

  It was enough to make her scream.

  Faith stared at the back of the pew in front, chewing her lip. Yeah, Mom drove her nuts. But she’d never wanted their conflicts to hurt Dad. Though far from convinced prayer did that much good, Faith looked down at her folded hands. God, please, be with Daddy. Help him to feel better.

  So praying might not help much. At least it couldn’t hurt. Faith was willing to do whatever it took to make things better. She’d been spending more and more time away from home, just to avoid the fights. But that was okay. It wasn’t so bad leaving home early and coming in before dinner. Then as soon as dinner was over, she could head for her room and her records and headphones.

  A huge knot formed in her chest, lodging there, making her ache.

  Who was she kidding? She missed being home. She missed laughing with her parents, having fun with them.

  She missed them.

  “Please turn to hymn number 532, ‘Wonderful Grace of Jesus,’ and stand as we sing this for our closing hymn.”

  Her dad pulled the hymnal from the holder in front of them, opened it, and pushed himself to his feet. Faith stood beside him, leaning against his solid arm, her hand holding the hymnal as well. The swell of music rose and bounded around them, and for a moment Faith gave herself over to singing.

  Her dad’s voice was so beautiful, so rich and strong. All Faith had to do was focus on his voice and let it carry her. When she did that, she could fly through harmonies.

  When the song was over, Dad turned to her with a weak imitation of his regular smile. “So, home?”

  Faith started to nod, then stopped. “Dad?”

  He turned to make his way to the aisle. “Hmm?”

  “Can we go for a drive?”

  The request surprised her dad—almost as much as it surprised her. But then, when she thought about it, what was so surprising? When she was little, they used to go for drives all the time on Sunday. Faith hadn’t realized how much she missed that.

  He glanced back at her. “A drive? Where?”

  “The Applegate?”

  For a moment Faith thought he was going to refuse, but then his smile gained a little of its old spirit. “Sure, why not? Your mother is sleeping and doesn’t expect us home until after we eat.” Her dad flopped an arm across her shoulders as they walked down the aisle, heading for the exit. “The Applegate it is.”

  It was a beautiful day for a drive. The sun was shining, and though it was summer, the scorching heat hadn’t hit yet. Faith tuned the radio to the oldies station, and the two of them sang along as they drove.

  When they came to the river, Faith had the car door open almost in the same second her dad shut off the engine. “Race you!”

  She ran across the rocky ground, laughing, not the least surprised when her long-legged father caught up with her. At the river’s edge, they sorted through the rocks covering the sandy ground, plucking out those that were round and flat. Dad was a master at skipping stones. Once, when Faith was about six, her dad had thrown a rock that skipped twenty times! Faith and her mother had cheered as if he won the Super Bowl. The closest Faith ever came to that record was nine times.

  I’ll have to bring Dustin here.

  The thought of him made Faith’s heart pound, her pulse skip. They were fast becoming an item. Oddly enough, she’d been faithful to the rules her parents gave her about dating. Mom would never believe that, but it was true.

  Dustin had been shocked the first time Faith told him she wouldn’t kiss him. But he hadn
’t pushed her, which made it that much harder to stick to her guns.

  Faith leaned down to choose another rock. “When did you know you loved Mom?”

  He tossed another rock. “First time I saw her.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He tipped his head. “You’ve heard this before.”

  She skipped her rock—four times. She was losing her touch. Faith went to perch on a huge boulder at the river’s edge. “I know, but I want to hear it again.”

  Dad thought for a minute, then came to lean against the boulder. “It was during the winter of my first year in college. I happened to see a beautiful auburn-haired girl walking across the college campus with the college football fullback.”

  Faith nodded. “Woody.”

  Her dad grimaced. “Woody.”

  “So what happened?”

  He drew in a deep breath, then looked out over the river. “Well, one look at her and my heart beat a rapid tune. Your mom was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And I wondered what she was doing with that silly fullback.”

  Faith circled her knees with her arms. “Instead of with you?”

  “Exactly. But in my heart I knew a slightly older, shy guy from Idaho could never get to know, let alone date, such a beautiful girl.” He shrugged. “I figured she’d never even notice me. I could forget her being interested in me.”

  “But she was.” Faith loved this story.

  Her dad grinned. “Eventually. But first, that next spring, she and the football fullback invited me to go to a movie with them.”

  Faith shook her head. “That must have floored you.”

  “I thought they were being nice to a lonely guy who spent much of his time alone. Later I found out they invited me to go with them because I had a car to drive us to the movie theater.”

  “Brats.”

  Her dad chuckled. “I saw your mom going across the campus now and then, and each time I spotted her my heart did that pounding thing again.”

  Faith nudged his shoulder. “You were in loooove.”

  “I was at that. Good thing she and Woody broke up when he fell for another girl.”

  “A girl you just happened to introduce him to?”

  Her dad’s laughter rang out. “Hey, you do what you have to do.” He looked around, then nudged her. “Want to walk for a while?”

  “Sure.” She slid off the boulder and fell in step with him. “So what then?”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “You really want to hear all this again?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well—” he slipped his hands into his pockets—“that next fall, I went on a college gospel-team trip to a nearby church.” His brows waggled. “Guess who else went?”

  Faith grinned. “Mom!”

  “Since I had a car, I drove. And it just so happened that your mother sat beside me. And since there were three of us in the front seat, your mom and I were really close together.” His face almost glowed as he remembered. “And that same heart pounding went on all during the trip.”

  “You should have seen a doctor.”

  He shoved at Faith with his elbow. “You want to hear this or not?”

  She held up her hands. “Okay, okay. Go on.”

  “Well, wonder of wonders, we got to know one another on that trip. We started dating. But I was one of three guys your mom was interested in.”

  This was Faith’s favorite part. “And you didn’t like that.”

  “Not even a little. I finally told your mom how I felt, and we broke up for about a week and a half.”

  “And neither of you wanted to go to the dining hall because you were afraid of running into one another.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “What days those were.”

  “So? How’d you get back together?”

  “A mutual friend talked us into sitting together in the college chapel during a service. Both our stomachs started making strange noises from lack of food.” His words were punctuated with laughter. “We were sure everyone there could hear the noise.”

  “And you’ve been together ever since.”

  “Every wonderful day.”

  They walked in a companionable silence, until Faith’s dad looked at his watch. “We’d better head back, punkin’.”

  With a reluctant nod, she turned and followed him back toward the car. When they reached it and slid inside, Dad started to put the key in the ignition, then hesitated.

  “Faith, are you in love with Dustin?”

  She stared at the dashboard. “I … I don’t know.”

  He looked out the windshield. “You know, your mom and I have had an incredible journey together. We’re good friends as well as spouses. You hear so much about how opposites attract, how they make the best marriages. But for your mom and me, well, it’s different. We’re so much alike in our personalities and feelings about things that we knew from the first that God made us to be together for life.”

  Faith looked out the window. What would that be like, to be so in tune with someone that you knew you were meant for each other?

  Did she feel that way with Dustin?

  No. If she was honest, no. But she wanted to.

  “I know you and your mom have had a hard time these last few months, but don’t ever kid yourself, Faith. Anne is an amazing person. She’s got things that she struggles with, but you’ll never find someone with a deeper faith, a kinder heart.”

  Faith nodded. “I know, Daddy.”

  “Your mom is—”

  At the choked sound he made, Faith turned to look at him. The tears sparkling in his eyes sent a shiver of shock through Faith. Her dad hardly ever cried.

  “Loving your mom, having her love me, it’s helped me grow into a better person as a husband and a father. That’s what I pray for you. That you’ll find a man who will love and cherish you the way I love and cherish your mother.”

  Faith took her dad’s hand and squeezed it. “I want that, too, Daddy.” And she did. More than anything in the world.

  “I don’t want to go!”

  Jared and Anne sat on the couch, watching their daughter pace the floor, arms crossed, eyes blazing. They didn’t respond. Didn’t argue. There was no point. Faith wouldn’t have listened.

  Besides, their minds were made up. And nothing Faith said was going to change that.

  When she realized they were sitting there, silent, Faith clamped her mouth shut and flopped onto the overstuffed chair opposite them. “So what is this? The silent treatment?”

  Anne watched Jared study their daughter. “No, Faith. I’m waiting for an opening.”

  It was actually a relief to see red tingeing Faith’s cheeks at her father’s quiet chiding. Thank heaven something still got to her!

  “It’s really quite simple, Faith. You agreed last summer to go to camp this summer. You signed up to act as a helper in one of the cabins. Your mother and I already paid your fees.”

  “But I forgot!”

  Anne let a sigh slip free. “Forgetting doesn’t release you from your obligations. There’s no time to find someone to take your place.”

  “And heaven forbid you guys lose your money.”

  “Faith.”

  She fell silent at the firm word from her dad.

  “You used to love camp—”

  Faith groaned. “I was a child then, Mother.”

  Anne resisted the urge to say, “Which means you’ll still have fun, considering how often you act like a child!”

  Barely.

  “You are going to camp. You are going to fulfill your obligations. End of discussion.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Faith sat rigid in the chair. “You think you can tell me what to do? That’s not fair!”

  “Fair doesn’t enter into it, Faith. This is about what’s right, not what’s fair.” Jared’s words were weighed down with a raw weariness.

  Anne took his hand, studying him. The conflicts over the last few months were taking a toll. It was evident in the wrinkles crea
sing his usually smooth forehead, the dark circles under his eyes. And yet, Anne knew he believed, with all his heart, that God had His hand on Faith, that He’d bring her out of this angry, combative stage—that one day soon He would restore their little girl to them.

  Anne wished she was as certain.

  Several weeks ago, when Faith and her father came back from a drive up to the Applegate River, Jared had been so excited. Almost his old self. He told Anne how they’d talked. “I think maybe I got through to her, Annie.”

  But within days, the battles raged again. For all Anne’s efforts to get along, Faith had grown more and more withdrawn. The sole mercy was that she still treated her father well, spending time with him—though not nearly as much as she used to. And though Faith didn’t often agree with what he said to her, at least she didn’t lambaste him.

  No, she saved that precious gift for Anne.

  She’d always known her daughter was intelligent, that she had an excellent vocabulary for her age. Her daughter had excelled in debate in school. But she hadn’t had any idea how vicious all that intelligence, that eloquence, could be. Words weren’t simply a way for Faith to express herself. They were tactical weapons, wielded with great skill and precision to cause the most damage possible.

  She learned that from Trista, I’ll bet. Faith’s rebellious friend had only grown wilder and more disdainful of anything good. But the time of Faith listening to Anne’s concerns about Trista and her gang was long gone. Anne didn’t dare breathe Trista’s name in Faith’s earshot, or she got an earful herself about being a self-righteous witch.

  The first time Faith called her that, Anne stood there, mouth hanging open. She couldn’t believe she’d heard right. As though sensing that, Faith repeated it, then smirked when tears ran down Anne’s cheeks.

  “Watch it, Mom. Water melts wicked witches.”

  Then her daughter spun on her heel and left the room. Of course, Anne was hot on her heels, ordering her to her room for the rest of the evening. But while Faith complied, it was a hollow victory.