His eyebrows rose as he thought through her comment. Quite a turnaround for someone who once tried so hard to be perfect. How had he managed to snag such a treasure? And would she say “yes” when he finally gathered the courage to ask for her hand in marriage? He peered at her once more through the mirror. “You’re never gonna let me win an argument, are you?’
A mind-blowing smile blossomed on her face. “Not if I can help it.”
29
Gracie parked her wheelchair beneath an old oak next to Miller’s Creek Community Church and gazed toward the field of bluebonnets that streamed down to the babbling creek. The scent of the bluebonnets combined with honeysuckle and fried chicken as people jammed the area for the church’s annual spring picnic. Laughter and happy voices rang out all around her, bringing a smile to her face. What happy memories she had of times past at this very same event.
Sudden longing gripped her. What she wouldn’t give to go back in time to the relative innocence of her childhood. She shook off the heavy feeling and glanced to where Matt played catch with his nephew, Brady.
“Hold your glove like this, buddy.” Matt demonstrated and his nephew imitated the motion. “Perfect.” He softly tossed the ball so it landed in the boy’s mitt.
“I caught the ball!” Brady jumped up and down, his red curls glinting in the sunlight.
Matt laughed and watched his nephew race to Andy with the news. What a wonderful father he’d make. She’d give anything to be able to give him children of his own.
The familiar heartache returned, but she practiced pushing it gently aside and turned once more to the One who lifted her head. Thank you, God, for giving me such a godly man. Help me walk again so I can be a better partner for him. Maybe then he’d ask her to marry him. As far as she was concerned, walking was a prerequisite for marriage, and for being engaged, for that matter.
Gracie marveled at the change that had taken place in her heart. She had the Lord to thank for it. For one thing her desire to be a prosecutor had waned, replaced with a compelling desire to defend. If the events of the past several months had taught her anything, it was that everyone needed a defender. The world was full of accusers, headed by the chief accuser, the enemy of her soul. But Christ was the ultimate advocate for those who belonged to Him.
A frown crossed her face. Somewhere along the way she’d confused God’s justice with human judgment. How had she gotten so far off track? Judgment belonged to God, and God alone. And human judgment only resulted in return judgment. God’s justice and grace were interwoven—opposite sides of the same coin. He couldn’t be separated from His justice any more than He could be separated from His grace.
A scene from her childhood flashed to mind. In her typical spontaneous way, Mama had pulled her out into a gentle spring shower. Together they’d danced in the rain until they were sopping wet. Gracie made no attempt to wipe away the tears that sprang to her eyes. Yes, that was grace. Not just a speckled dot here and there, but something you splashed around in, floodwaters from an endless source. There was no place it couldn’t reach. No heart it couldn’t change. No life it couldn’t redeem. Every breath—every heartbeat—was immersed in His grace.
Unexpectedly, she laughed out loud from sheer joy. The latest splashes of God’s marvelous grace concerned her relationship with Matt. God hadn’t given her Mr. Perfect, but the man that was perfect for her. The magnitude of His gift washed over her.
Movement in her peripheral vision captured her attention. Matt sauntered up, hands on hips, just a few feet away to talk to Steve Miller and his old geezer buddies. A gust of wind whistled and tossed his sandy curls in several directions. With his flip-flops, rumpled t-shirt, and disheveled hair he could easily be mistaken for a beach bum. He was a free spirit and always would be.
The thought brought a smile to her lips. She brought her gaze to the ground beneath her, tufts of spring grass now blowing in the gentle spring breeze, when just a few short weeks ago the area had seemed dead and devoid of life. Maybe there was hope for her lifeless legs as well. She’d recently felt a strange tingling in her legs, but told no one, too afraid it wasn’t real. Had almost felt like she could walk on her own at therapy a few times, but feared she couldn’t handle the disappointment if she failed.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Matt’s soft voice sounded beside her.
She whipped her head around and brought a hand to her chest.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He took one tentative step forward then stopped, as though unsure whether to proceed, indecision etched on his face.
“My thoughts aren’t worth much.”
In less than a heartbeat, Matt knelt in front of her, his hands gripping her bare arms. “Oh, Gracie Mae, don’t you see what a lie that is?”
He was right. Another one of the devil’s lies. Would she ever learn to ignore them? She lowered her head. “I’m trying to do better.” His soft chuckle brought her eyes to his. “What’s so funny?”
“That was just such a typical Gracie Mae thing to say. Always trying to do better, to be better.” His eyes lit with the kindness she never tired of.
She tilted her head to one side. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had things to do at the ranch.”
“I did, but I felt the need to clear my head this afternoon. A wise person once said that there was nothing like a walk on a beautiful day to clear your head.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head back to gaze into her eyes. “And you know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think God led me here to find you. In fact, I was just talking to Him about you.” He stood, tucked his hands in his pockets, and sauntered to the oak to lean against it, the look in his eyes indecipherable.
“You were?” Grace turned her gaze to her entwined hands at rest on her non-working legs. Already she dreaded the turn this conversation was taking. “And what were you saying?”
“Oh, lots of things.”
She scowled at his evasion tactics. “Like what?”
He laughed his familiar boyish laugh, his eyes taunting. “What’s wrong, Gracie Mae? Am I getting you riled up?”
Gracie crossed her arms and glared. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Intentionally goad me until I’m ready to slap you.”
His laughter echoed off the red bricks of the church wall. He stepped toward her again, his lips curved upward. “’Cause you’re so pretty when you’re furious.”
Her palm itched to smack him, but one look at the tender smile on his face was all it took to make her irritation slip away. “Whatever. You’d better watch it, mister.”
A faraway look entered his eyes and he sobered as he sauntered closer. “Actually I have something to ask you.”
Her pulse pounded in her temple as she fingered the promise ring. No. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not until she could walk—no, make that run—into his arms. He deserved at least that much. Not someone confined to a wheelchair. Her hands twisted in her lap as she pleaded with her eyes.
Matt took another step, his eyes revealing his determination. He went down on both knees, held her trembling hands, and planted a kiss on each one. “Gracie—”
“Don’t do this yet, Matt. Please.”
He lowered his head a moment then looked up at her once more. “Remember when I didn’t want you to go see Elena and Jason?”
Yes, but this was different. She nodded hesitantly.
“And you told me it was something you had to do.”
Her eyes closed slowly then reopened as she nodded again. “Yes, but—”
He placed a finger on her lips. “Shh, sweetheart. Hear me out.” Matt moved his hand back to hers. “I love you more than life itself and I want you to be my wife.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it up for her to see. “Will you marry me, Gracie?”
Her pulse hammered in her head, as she eyed the ring, her upper lip tucked be
tween her teeth. Lord, help me through this. I don’t want to hurt him. She pinched her lips together and lowered her head in total torment. A half cry tore from her chest, and she peered up at him, tears tracing a path down her cheeks. “I can’t, Matt. Not until I can walk. You deserve at least that much.”
Matt’s lips pooched out, and he nodded. “I understand.” He pivoted and pocketed the ring, then headed toward his puke-green Pinto.
Her heart cratered. No. She couldn’t lose him like this. Her eyes blurred by tears, she gazed up into the gnarled arms of the oak tree. “God, help me. I don’t want to lose him.” She choked out the words. “Show me what to do.”
Walk.
I’ve tried, Lord. I can’t walk.
Try again.
Gracie lowered her gaze to Matt’s still-retreating back, his shoulders slumped. It was worth a try. “Matt!” She screamed his name.
The picnic crowd quieted, as though holding their collective breath, and gathered to watch the scene playing itself out in their midst.
With her arms, Gracie lifted each foot from its perch and sat them on the ground, then bent low to lift the flaps. Next she used her arms to pull herself to the edge of the seat.
A murmur rose in the crowd behind her as she stood. Andy and Papa stepped out of the crowd, but she waved them back. “Stay away from me.”
Papa’s eyes pleaded with hers. “Let me help you, la hija.”
“No, Papa. I have to do this.”
Andy shook his head, his expression grave. “Don’t you understand yet? Matt doesn’t want perfection. He wants you. You don’t have to try so hard, for him or for any of us. We love you just like you are.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand. The perfection I once strived for was for me. But it’s different this time. I don’t wanna walk so I can be perfect. I wanna walk for Matt.” Gracie glanced at her tingling legs that at least for the moment supported her weight. Would they work or would she fall on her face in front of all of Miller’s Creek? “Matt, wait!”
He kept walking.
Pure agony exploded inside, worse than any pain she’d ever experienced, as if her heart were being excised from her chest. “Please, Matt!”
He stopped, frozen in position, his head down. His shoulders rose and lowered as he turned back to face her. When he saw her standing, Matt lifted one hand and started toward her. “No, Gracie, don’t try it without help. You might hurt yourself.”
She gave her head a shake, tears dripping off her cheeks to the ground. “Stop right there, Matt Tyler. Don’t you dare come any closer.” She willed her legs to work. Please, Lord.
What do you want Me to do for you?
She looked into the bright blue sky. “I want to walk.”
Then walk.
Her forehead knotted as she gritted her teeth to pull her right foot forward. A tiny sliding step, but a step all the same. Gracie released a gut-wrenching cry as she forced the left leg to do the same.
Voices began to sound behind her.
“You can do it, Miss Gracie.” J.C.’s soft words made it to her ears. She could almost see his kind eyes urging her forward.
“Yes, la hija, you can.”
“C’mon, Gracie girl.” Andy added his words of encouragement.
She glanced over at her boss, his face beaming. Behind him, Mama Beth swabbed at tears. One step, and then another, as the crowd began cheering her on.
“Atta girl, Gracie!” Coot bellowed above the crowd.
Gracie focused her gaze on Matt. His cheeks wet with tears, he stepped toward her, his eyes tender and soft. Her feet started to give way, but in a heartbeat, he raced forward and caught her up in his arms, swinging around in a circle so that her legs flew out behind her. “You did it, Gracie, you did it.” His joyous sobs and laughter sounded in her ears.
When at last he stopped spinning in circles, she took a moment to gather her bearings and smiled at him flirtatiously. “I’ll take that ring now.”
He laughed through the tears. “Oh, you will, huh? Well, what if I’ve changed my mind?”
She held up her hand with the promise ring and wiggled her fourth finger. “Guess I’ll have to take you to court. When it comes to love, verbal agreements are binding, you know.”
“In that case, I guess I’d better finish the job.” With one arm clasped tightly around her waist to keep her from falling, Matt fished around in the pocket of his wrinkled shorts, and then with all of Miller’s Creek as witnesses, he placed the ring on her finger and sealed it with a kiss.
Dear friends,
As a lifelong perfectionist, I finally came to recognize the spiritual danger of trying to improve myself. In this way, Gracie’s struggle is my own. Our world tells us to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, go for our dreams, and be all we can be. Shelves around the world are lined with self-improvement books. Advertisements boast picture-perfect images we feel compelled to emulate. External appearance is ranked on the same level or higher than internal character.
This philosophy has no place in the spiritual realm. Instead, God’s Word tells us to clothe ourselves with Christ, grow up in Him, and allow Him to transform us from the inside out. The only way that is accomplished is by dying to ourselves. Any effort to make ourselves “better” in our own strength cheapens Christ’s sacrifice and God’s grace.
In the story I also wanted to address the concepts of grace, mercy, and justice. For the longest time I couldn’t wrap my brain around how God could be a God of both justice and grace. Through studying His Word, I found that justice and grace aren’t the polar opposites I expected, but are woven together as one glorious attribute of our heavenly Father. Even the most difficult of circumstances bears testimony to His justice and His grace. To think otherwise is to deny His Sovereignty.
My prayer for all of us is that God will open our eyes to see the lavish grace He bestows with each breath we take, open our minds to grasp His love and goodness, and unlock our hearts and arms to share it with others.
Immersed in grace,
Cathy
About the Author
A Texas-born gal, Cathy’s desire is to write heart-stirring stories about God’s life-changing grace. Her first novel, Texas Roads, was a 2009 American Christian Fiction Writers’ Genesis finalist. A Path Less Traveled, her second novel, was published in 2010. The Way of Grace (book three in the series) was launched in the fall of 2012, and Cathy hopes to write several more stories about the fine folks of Miller's Creek.
Cathy also writes devotional articles and posts on writing and life and general at her blog WordVessel. She's written devotions for The Upper Room magazine, and for two collaborative books, Spirit & Heart: A 30-Day Devotional Journey and Faith & Finance: In God We Trust. She's the wife of a music minister, the mother of two grown sons, the mother-in-love of the daughter of her prayers, and the Nana of Harrisen. She currently lives in the Ozarks with her husband of thirty years, where she writes, tends the chickens and garden, and spends time with the world's cutest grandson.
Visit her website at www.CatBryant.com.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cathy.Bryant.Author?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Cathy_Bryant
Book Club Discussion Questions
1. How does Gracie’s trouble with perfectionism reveal itself in the story? Why do you think people struggle with wanting to be perfect? Is perfectionism dangerous to our spiritual health? Why or why not?
2. What are the pitfalls of making plans without taking God into consideration?
3. Define justice, mercy, and grace. Is mercy and grace the same thing? Can you think of a place in the story where God’s grace and justice come into play at the same time? Why do we need an accurate understanding of God’s grace?
4. Why does Grace goes back to thinking of herself as Gracie by the end of the novel?
5. Name some of the ways Gracie attempts to improve her image? What does she do to impress others? What are the results of her self-improvement and att
empts to impress?
6. Both Matt and Gracie learn that what they want is not always best, and that God’s plans for them are much better. Can you think of a time you received something you really wanted only to be disappointed?
7. In the first part of the story, Elena is believed to be the “bad guy,” but in reality is controlled by someone else. How is this same scenario played out time and time again in history?
8. The chapter near the end where Gracie visits both Elena and Jason shows two typical reactions to God’s love, forgiveness, and grace. What are they? Can you think of a moment in the crucifixion account where these same reactions are displayed?
9. Evil is personified in this story. What are some ways Satan tries to trip us up. Is Satan always recognizable? Why or why not?
10. How does Gracie’s suffering bring about good in her life? How does she get past physically- and emotionally-crippling circumstances?
Also Available
One secret kept, another uncovered . . .
Dani Davis just wants a place to call home. With quaint country charm, quirky residents, and loads of business potential, Miller’s Creek seems like the perfect place to start over . . . except for the cowboy who gives her a ride into town. Then malicious rumors and a devastating secret propel her down a road she never expected to travel.
Grief paints a celebration in shades of gray . . .
Trish James is tired of being rescued. When a spooked horse claims her husband’s life, she’s determined to blaze a path for herself and her traumatized son without outside help. But will that mean leaving the place etched on her heart?
The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) Page 31