by Max Lucado
As Manny spoke, their bleak surroundings melted away. Dark, heavy clouds shifted in the sky, revealing a brilliant morning sun that chased away the shadows. The hard rocky ground bloomed and flourished beneath her feet. Chelsea now stood in a bright garden. Vines worked their way up a stony wall. Flowers were lifting in the morning sun. The sky was brilliantly blue. On the other side of the garden, a large rock sealed the entrance to a tomb.
“There is no separation. There is no chasm between you and the heavens. There is no divider, no veil between you and God’s love.”
That’s when Chelsea saw him. Jesus. Fully alive. His robe was a ray of sunshine, each thread radiant. His face shone like a full moon, the perfect reflection of his Father in heaven. The very sight of Jesus brought passersby to their knees. But for Chelsea, that moment came when she caught a glimpse of his eyes, like blazing stars. The same light that was present in her darkest hours was shining back at her.
“You wanted to know how you’ll make it on your own?” Manny asked as the sights and sounds of the lush Jerusalem garden gave way to the sterile hospital chapel. “You’ll never know. Because you never will be.”
Chapter 50
Chelsea recalled the words of a familiar passage of Scripture, her Grandmother Sophia’s favorite. “The house did not fall, because it had its foundations on the rock.” As Chelsea explored the ruins of the Higher Grounds Café and its adjoining homestead, she imagined her grandmother would be smiling. To be sure, few of Chelsea’s earthly belongings remained. Save for the stainless steel ovens, the metal speaker of the old record player, and the charred frame of the Queen Anne sofa upon which Lady Bird Johnson once sipped cappuccino, very little was even recognizable. But the walls, thick and heavy, the handiwork of masons from generations past, stood tall upon the café’s stony foundation.
When the insurance adjuster arrived, he gave a curious whistle. “Special place you got here.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” Chelsea said.
“No, really, you don’t come across these places much anymore.”
“These places?”
“I’m sure you know,” the man said, swinging his clipboard in a wide open semicircle, gesturing to their surroundings. “All this land once belonged to an old mission. It predates the Alamo.”
“That’s what my mother told me. And my grandmother before her.”
“Yeah, but I ’spect it’s more than that,” he said, stomping the ground beneath them. “This structure could have been part of that original mission.”
As the adjuster continued his survey, Chelsea wandered through the wreckage, recovering a few mementos along the way. That some of the items had survived the fire was nothing short of miraculous. A hand-carved rocking horse her parents had bought for her on a rare, happy vacation to Mexico. The needlepoint pillow her mother had stitched so many years ago. Chelsea read the phrase, Living on coffee and a prayer.
“Words to live by!” Bo shouted from the singed doorframe. “Thank God you all made it out alive.”
“Thank God for Sawyer and Manny!” Chelsea added as her neighbor gripped her in a tight hug.
“How is Manny? I managed to see the rest of your family at the hospital, but I didn’t get a chance to shake his hand.”
“Manny is . . . great. He really is an angel,” Chelsea said with a smile. “But I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him for a while.”
“Oh?”
“He was needed back home,” Chelsea said, averting her eyes from Bo’s. There was no simple explanation for Manny.
“Amazing how help comes just when you need it, huh?”
“It certainly is,” Chelsea said.
“So what’s the plan?”
“A lot of that depends on him,” Chelsea said, gesturing to the adjuster. “I’d like to reopen the café. If I can afford it.”
“I’d love to help any way I can. I know a thing or two about construction,” Bo said with a wink. “Looks like there’s some stuff here we could salvage.”
As the adjuster finished his report, Chelsea and Bo rummaged through the wreckage of Chelsea’s sunroom. Sadly, Bo’s table looked more like half-burned firewood than, well, a table. Yet some items she still recognized. The face of Diana Ross on the cardboard cover of the Supremes’ Cream of the Crop, Paul McCartney’s mop top on A Hard Day’s Night, and most surprising of all, her mother’s favorite album, Put Your Dreams Away, appeared untouched by the brutal flames. As Chelsea plucked the record from the ashes, she noticed something beneath, an inscription on the stone floor, buried by layers of wood and carpet but newly revealed by the devastating fire.
“Would you look at that!” Bo said.
Chelsea kicked away the debris to uncover the entire inscription, a sacred phrase no doubt chiseled into the very foundation of her home by the original inhabitants many centuries ago. Casa de Oración.
Chelsea translated it aloud. “House of Prayer.”
In the weeks that followed, Chelsea was indeed living on coffee and a prayer. Tony and Sara had opened their home to her and the children, making for a very full house. They were serving as foster parents for Marcus Johnson, which brought the household to three adults and five kids, including the twins, who had just begun to crawl. The close quarters strengthened the family bond like never before. And with every memory made, Chelsea could see that her sister was growing more and more rooted to her humble home in Lavaca.
“I used to think the answer was moving my family to a better neighborhood,” Sara told Chelsea as she pulled the For Sale sign from her yard. “Now I want my family to make this neighborhood better.”
Sara was not the only one in the family to have experienced a change of heart. Hancock seemed to have aged several years since the fire. Everyone noticed. But it was Tony who pointed out that he was handling their loss with a maturity that did not come with time, but trust. Chelsea knew without a shadow of doubt that the same light she had seen in her life was residing within her son. When Hancock asked if he could spend a week with his dad in Austin, Chelsea consented, her mind at rest.
Chapter 51
Rest. Chelsea was growing accustomed to this new state of mind. When Sawyer’s SUV pulled into the driveway a week later, she was not overwhelmed with the onslaught of what-ifs and remember whens. A surprising sensation settled over her. Gratitude.
“Thank you, Sawyer,” Chelsea said, planting a kiss on Hancock’s forehead before sending him inside to drop off his laundry. “I still don’t know why you were there that night, but every day I wake up so thankful you were.”
“I went there wondering if it was a mistake. Now I know it wasn’t.” Sawyer reached into the backseat of his car. “I have something for you,” he said, pulling out a long white poster tube. He handed it to Chelsea through the window.
“What’s this?”
“Hancock said you were still figuring out what to do with the house and the café. I did a little digging in the public records, and I was able to track down your grandmother’s original plans for the Higher Grounds Café. Turns out she had a couple phases of construction in mind. Hope that’s not too presumptuous. I just thought they might come in handy.”
“Wow,” Chelsea said. “That’s so special. So thoughtful.” She paused, taking in Sawyer’s humble smile and blue eyes, glimmering with hope. She could not recall the last time she had looked at him without the fractured lens of a broken past. Could this be the first time? “How is the job hunt going? Any leads?”
“I actually just got an offer. A coaching position at a junior college. It’s in St. Louis.”
“Wow. St. Louis.” Chelsea nodded through a surprising tinge of disappointment. “We’ll have to come see you this summer.”
“I hope you do.” Sawyer sighed.
As he pulled out of the driveway, Chelsea considered the highs and lows of the last thirteen years. Her memories still remained, each and every one, intact and as present as ever. The pregnancy, the walk down the aisle, the betrayal. But thei
r sting was gone, replaced with deeper truth. The road before her was open, but Chelsea didn’t have to walk it alone.
Sawyer had driven two blocks when something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. Chelsea. She was jogging toward him, her arms waving. He hit the brakes and shifted into reverse, meeting her at the halfway point.
“What if I made you a better offer?” Chelsea said through winded breaths.
“Better offer?”
Chapter 52
With a few cups of coffee, Chelsea Chambers could change the world. She just knew it. As the clock ticked toward the opening hour of the new and improved Higher Grounds Café, Chelsea imagined all the life that would happen there in the years to come. Old friends would reunite. New friends would be made. Hopes and dreams, laughter and tears, they would all be shared over cups of coffee brewed with love and, more often than not, a prayer.
Chelsea had never felt more at home than she did in the newly remodeled café. The restored walls of the original mission and the refurbished phonograph in the sunroom celebrated the café’s connection to the past, while the industrial cable lighting, aluminum chairs, and sleek tables added a boldly modern touch. Chelsea knew her Grandmother Sophia would be proud, and she hoped her customers would love the new look as much as she did.
“Here, boss, I have something for you,” Katrina said, offering Chelsea a steaming latte. “I’m a little rusty, so my feather design turned into, well, wings, I guess.” She looked over her art with a critical eye.
“Looks perfect to me,” Chelsea said, thankful to have her star employee back on the job. She had missed Katrina’s ever-changing hair color and mismatched style.
“Okay, we’re ready for you!” Bo’s voice carried down the hall.
“So, what do you think?” Sawyer stood beside Bo, draping his arm on his new neighbor’s shoulder as Chelsea took in their handiwork.
“Beautiful!” she said, admiring the last of the custom furniture. “You must have been up all night!”
“Oh, you know . . . who needs sleep?” Bo quipped.
“Are you sure you’re not an angel?” Either way, Chelsea was convinced her neighbor was heaven sent. With Bo’s help she had managed to stretch the insurance money to cover the cost of the remodel and most of the remaining tax debt.
With the chiming of the clock, Chelsea paused to take a few calming breaths before opening for business. As she reached for the Now Open sign, Sawyer’s hands met hers.
“We got this,” he said, hoping to calm her jittery nerves. It worked. Moments later, Mr. and Mrs. Chambers opened the doors of the Higher Grounds Café.
The morning rush was half the size Chelsea had seen in the busiest days of the God Blog. Otherwise, it was business as usual. With a few exceptions. Thanks to Faith Community Church, the tip jar had been replaced with a “gift jar.” Tony’s congregation had started a benevolence fund at the café, and they were spreading the word that anyone in the community could enjoy a cup of coffee or a bite to eat. On God’s house.
Chelsea anticipated this would bring a new kind of customer to her café, and she was right. They gladly served two underprivileged teens, an elderly veteran, and a single mom with four kids. What she didn’t expect was the generosity it would inspire in her usual patrons. By the end of the day, the gift jar was brimming with proof that kindness is contagious. Deb and her husband even promised to match the funds, dollar for dollar, for the first week.
Tony and his sidekick Marcus stopped by to grab hot chocolates and to fill a giant thermal container with enough coffee to serve fifty of their friends in the Lavaca neighborhood. Later on, the pair returned with Sara and the twins, and together they camped out in the sunroom, fielding questions from the occasional God Blog seeker with prayer, counsel, and, of course, a bit of humor.
“After all, God always answers knee mail,” Tony loved to say.
Chelsea finally met Manny’s sisters—the Sisters of Divine Providence. The nuns had housed Manny at the convent during his earthly assignment. As it turned out, Chelsea already knew one of them from her hospital stay. Sister Margaret and her fellow sisters thrilled at the sight of the Casa de Oracion inscription, which was now the focal point of the redesigned sunroom.
“What a fascinating discovery!” Sister Margaret exclaimed. “We will be sure to keep the café and your patrons in our daily prayers.”
“Thank you, Sister. That means a lot,” Chelsea said.
“Of course, dear,” Sister Margaret said. “And did you find what you were looking for in the hospital chapel?”
Chelsea looked around the café. Hancock and Emily were snacking on cupcakes with Marcus. Sara and Tony were seated on the sofa, each bouncing a toddler on their knees as they chatted with Chelsea’s patrons. And then there was Sawyer. He rounded the corner into the sunroom balancing four steaming mugs.
“No,” Chelsea said thoughtfully. “But I found so much more.”
“All right, the fancy designs are Katrina’s doing,” Sawyer said, handing a steaming mug to each of the sisters. “I made the cappuccino,” he added, gesturing to the least impressive of the frothy creations.
“Oh my,” Sister Margaret said as a pitiful layer of foam collapsed before her eyes.
Everyone laughed, no one harder than Sawyer.
“As you can see, it’s my first day on the job. I just hope it’s not my last,” he added, placing an arm around Chelsea.
After tucking the kids into bed, Sawyer swept off the front porch while Chelsea stepped behind the counter to craft a pair of drinks. She ground a batch of perfectly roasted coffee beans, savoring the rich smell that permeated the air. She pulled the lever on her shiny new espresso machine, sending nearly boiling water through the fine powder. Smooth, frothy milk balanced the dark, bitter espresso shots she poured from two tiny porcelain shot glasses. Chelsea breathed deeply, savoring the complex aroma as she walked out to the front porch.
“How about a lightly caffeinated nightcap?” Chelsea said, handing a mug to Sawyer.
“Now that is a cappuccino!” he said, after a sip.
Chelsea relaxed into a comfy new rocking chair, and Sawyer settled into the one beside her. “Well, Chelsea Chambers, we have our work cut out for us.”
“But we’ll make it—together,” Chelsea said, looking up at the stars. “And I have a feeling it’s going to be good.”
She reached out for Sawyer’s hand and took a sip of the cappuccino. The truth was, it was already good.
Chapter 53
Samuel watched from a distance, his heart bursting, his eyes shining like a thousand stars. Heaven’s view was good. Very good. The landscape below was brighter than it had been in decades. Spires of light burst through the velvet sky, pulsing with the prayers of everyday saints. Entire neighborhoods once clouded in darkness were glimmering with hope. And Chelsea? She was glowing from the inside out.
“Congratulations on a job well done. Your work as Manny was impressive,” Gabriel said, settling in for the best seat in heaven. “I know it wasn’t easy, but it was worth it, don’t you think?”
“That’d be an understatement. I mean, look at them! Does it get any better?”
“Believe it or not, I think it does,” Gabriel said with a smile. “You should have seen this story from heaven’s view.”
“I can only imagine! Still, I wouldn’t trade it for my time on earth.”
“Really? I had something for you, but if that’s how you feel . . . I don’t know.”
“What is it?” Samuel’s curiosity was piqued. “A sword? A better disguise?”
“No, no. It’s more like a movie.”
“Return of the Jedi? ’Cause I never got to see that one.”
“Even better than that. This one is especially for you. Courtesy of the best Storyteller I know.”
Samuel’s eyes widened.
“Sit back and enjoy the show. You’ve earned it,” Gabriel said, giving Samuel a front-row seat to an expansive night sky. A moving image stretched across he
aven’s big screen. To Manny’s surprise, he knew every single one of the stars by name. Unfurling before his eyes was Chelsea’s story from the moment he ran into her front door. Only this time, from heaven’s view.
Samuel laughed and cried through every twist and turn, both seen and unseen to the human eye. As Chelsea’s guardian angel, Samuel knew he’d been cast in the role of a lifetime, and he couldn’t wait to watch over her as she lived out the sequel.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. In the story, Samuel is Chelsea’s guardian angel. Do you believe in the possibility of a guardian angel? If so, what do you picture your guardian angel doing to impact your life?
2. The angel Samuel walks the streets of San Antonio as Manny, a Star Wars–loving barista. Have you ever met someone you think is a heavenly angel? What made you think that?
3. Early in the book, Chelsea admits that faith doesn’t come easily for her, “yet she found herself living by faith each and every day.” What does it mean to live by faith? Why do you think Chelsea struggled with it so much?
4. Do you relate to Chelsea’s struggle? What kinds of situations shake your faith?
5. Chelsea says that she has “the hardest time believing that the God of the universe watches over me and you. The idea that he loves us individually. It sounds nice. But it also sounds like a fairy tale.” Why is this so hard for many people to believe?
6. What part of God’s love is hardest for you to believe? Why?
7. Tony uses an example of coffee in one of his sermons. The parts may not be individually good, but together, they make something good. God works in the same way, bringing all things together for good, as he says in Genesis 50:20. What examples do you see of this truth in your own life? Think about dark moments in your past that God redeemed for good.
8. 1 John 4:19 says, “We love Him because He first loved us.” In what ways is that verse evidenced in this book?