David Years

by Duncan, Lillian;

  “I think you’re right about that.” Cooper took a picture of her and Sweet Cherry.

  Country Boy was actually Brandon Donner. And her first love—sort of. He’d died before they could really get to know each other, but they’d had a special connection.

  “What’s on your mind, Nia?” Cooper’s gentle voice was warm.

  “What makes you think anything is?”

  “I’m an old man. I can sense these things.”

  “You’re not that old. I’m really worried about Keisha. She’s changed. One second she was good, old Keisha and the next, she’d turned into someone else.” Nia kissed Sweet Cherry’s face. “Someone I don’t even want to know.”

  “Unfortunately, that happens to young people sometimes. They turn eighteen and think they know everything. They try to be an adult overnight. I’m afraid there might be some hard lessons in her future.”

  “She even talks different when she’s around Marcus. I have a bad feeling about all of it.”

  “You know what Rachel would say, right?”

  “Everyone has to figure out their own puzzle.”

  “Which means you can’t do a whole lot other than what you’re doing. Praying and encouraging her. And keep asking her to come spend the summer here.”

  “I will. She’d be a lot safer here than with that creep.” Nia sighed. “So who’s here this week?”

  “Oh, you’ll love them. They call themselves the Christian Creators. Some of them are writers, some are artists, and others are musicians. They’ve actually taken over the place. They have a workshop every day in the morning, creative time in the afternoon, and fellowship in the evening.”

  “That does sound like fun. Maybe I’ll sit in on the workshops, especially the music ones.”

  “So you’re still playing music and writing.”

  “I don’t know if you’d call it that, but I try.”

  Nia stared at Puzzle House. It had been years since Rachel told her that God had chosen her to be a healer—and still no healing. “Cooper, maybe Rachel was wrong about God anointing me to be a healer.”

  They walked toward the barn with Sweet Cherry following close behind.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s been three years. I’ve studied the Bible—a lot. I believe what’s in it, but I don’t feel special.”

  “You don’t feel special? But everyone’s special to God.”

  “I mean I don’t feel as though I have a special calling.”

  “Everyone has a special calling. It’s just a matter of finding it. Maybe it was too easy for you since it just fell into your lap, so to speak. Just because you found out at such an early age doesn’t mean the time is right yet.”

  “My David years, right?” No one else seemed to doubt her gift. Why did she?

  “Exactly. Your David years. I know it can be frustrating to wait on God’s timing. When Rachel woke up after her accident and told me about her visit with Jesus, I had all sorts of suggestions for her but I kept them to myself. She needed to figure it out on her own. With God’s help, of course. And I’m sure you’ll figure it out too with His help.”

  “You really think everyone has a special calling?”

  “I do.”

  “Then why doesn’t everyone do them?”

  “Oh, lots of reasons. Fear, laziness, and doubt are three of the big ones, I believe.”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t see myself being able to do any miracles.”

  “That’s good, because you can’t do miracles. God is the miracle giver. You’re only the electrical cord. He’s the source of the power.”

  “And the person receiving the miracle has to turn on their own lamp of faith.” She finished his sentence for him. “That was one of Rachel’s favorite examples.”

  “And for good reason. It’s true.”

  “I sure was stubborn back then. There was no way I would flip on that lamp of faith. Even though I was dying.” She shook her head. “How stupid was that.”

  Cooper grinned. “And are you sure you haven’t helped along a miracle or two?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “What about answered prayers?”

  “Sure, there’s been some of those. For me and for other people.”

  “As far as I’m concerned every answered prayer is a miracle.”

  “I never looked at it that way.”

  “Think about it. The God who created the universe heard your prayer and took the time to do something about it. How can that not be a miracle?”

  “True.” She opened the stall door and led Sweet Cherry inside. “What’s your special calling, Cooper?”

  “That’s an easy one. Taking care of Rachel was my special calling and now, taking care of you when you let me. By me taking care of you. It gives you time to focus on your gift.”

  “But that’s about other people. What about you?”

  “Life isn’t about me or Rachel. Or you. It’s all about God. He gives each of us gifts and talents and we’re supposed to use them for Him. Rachel healed people, and I baked cookies for them. And for her.”

  Nia laughed. “I must admit they are very good cookies.”

  “Glad you think so, you might find a few of them in the kitchen with your name on them.”

  6

  The next morning, Nia sat up in bed. Sunlight streamed through the curtains and she offered a quick morning prayer. The past summers she’d come to Puzzle House, she would help Cooper with food prep and cleanup, but that didn’t feel like the right thing any longer. It was time to step up. This summer would be different.

  How could she use the healing power God had given her? She’d spent the past three years studying God’s Word. She was ready. It was time to step up and take her place at Puzzle House. At least a little bit.

  The thought that she’d been chosen by God had kept her from going down some wrong paths that many of her friends had chosen. Tears filled her eyes. Nia couldn’t believe Keisha was making such bad decisions. Her anointing as a healer had kept Nia from doing the same.

  Nia straightened. Puzzle House was her home. She would go where God led her. “What do You want me to do, God?”

  A puzzle.

  “You want me to work on puzzles? With people? Here?”

  It is called Puzzle House, after all.

  God was talking to her. Definitely not her thoughts because the idea of working on puzzles with people terrified her. She wasn’t Rachel—she didn’t have that much wisdom. “Are You sure?”

  Nothing.

  “God, are you still there?”

  Apparently, God was done talking with her.

  Nia stood up. “OK, well then, I’m not getting all stressed out about it. Wondering what I should say or not say. God, You’ll need to give me the right words. I’ll just do it.” She went directly to the Puzzle Room. Her determination grew with each step.

  A woman sat at a table concentrating on a puzzle.

  Nia took a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Nia.”

  “I’m Marsha.” Soft brown hair fell well below her shoulders. “Are you a guest here as well? I haven’t seen you before.”

  “I got here yesterday, and no. I’m not a guest. I’m…” She paused and went on. “I’m…here to help you with your puzzle.”

  “Great. I’ve been here three days, and this is all the further I’ve gotten. I haven’t really done any big puzzles like this before. I think I bit off more than I could chew.”

  “I understand that.” Nia felt exactly the same way that very second. God, give me the right words. “But one of the things that makes our puzzle easier is to build the frame first. The right frame or foundation makes everything a little bit easier.”

  Marsha looked up from the puzzle pieces. “Are you speaking figuratively or literally?”

  Nia grinned. “Actually both, but let’s worry about literally right now. Find all the smooth-edged pieces and focus on those first. Once you’ve got the frame, the pieces will fit better.�
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  “I guess it’s like that in life, too.” They sorted and put the pieces together.

  “So, Nia, what do you think makes a good frame for life?” Marsha asked.

  “The only thing that makes sense is God. If you let God be the frame of your life, then circumstances won’t matter as much as your relationship with Him.”

  Marsha nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Thanks, God for giving me the right words.

  “As a Christian writer, I thought I was doing that, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think I’ve gotten so focused on book sales and reviews that I’ve forgotten the reason I started writing in the first place.”

  “Why did you start writing?”

  “To share the Good News of the Gospel in story form. I like to say I’m a parable writer, just like Jesus. Do you know what a parable is?”

  “It’s a story with the purpose of illustrating a point. The story about the boy who took the money from his father and then wasted it was a parable.”

  “Right. My favorite definition is an earthly story with a heavenly message.”

  “I like that. It sounds to me as though you’re writing for the right reason.”

  “That used to be true, but lately I’ve started shaping my stories so that they would sell more books. In other words, I focus more on the plot then on their relationship with God. And even though my book sales went up, my satisfaction with my writing has gone down. Way down.”

  “I’m sure there’s lots of ways to serve God with your writing.”

  “True, but I’ve known for a while my way wasn’t working for me. That’s why I came here. I definitely needed time to focus on what God wants me to do. To see what the next step in my career is.”

  They put several more pieces of the puzzle together in a companionable silence.

  Marsha stood up. “Wow. Look at how much progress we’ve made. I’m going to take a walk so I can think. Thanks, Nia, for helping me to verbalize what I needed to say out loud.” Marsha walked out of the room.

  Cooper walked in with a big smile on his face. “And here I thought you were here to help me crack eggs and bake cookies for the summer. Seriously, you did a great job, Nia.”

  “You were listening.”

  “Only for a little while. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when I heard you talking, it was as though Rachel was back.”

  “I don’t know about that, but God did give me the right words to help Marsha.”

  “Very much so. And remember what Rachel always said, there’s more than one kind of healing. And you’ve done a wonderful job with Marsha.” He hugged her. “Now how about cracking some eggs so we can have omelets?”

  7

  Nia sat cross-legged on the bed in her room. “Keish, please call me.” She tossed her phone on the bed then pounded her pillow. Why was this happening? She’d lost track of how many texts and voice mails she’d sent to Keisha with no response to any of them. Keisha had hung up on Nia the last time she’d called, and now she wasn’t answering. “Breathe in. Breathe out.”

  Surely Keisha would never be stupid enough to do drugs.

  But doubt crept in. She had a sick feeling in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Something had made Keisha change. Was it drugs? “Please, God, keep Keisha safe. Help her make the right choices. And give me peace in this situation.” And just like that a sense of calm descended. She stood up. “No sense worrying about things I can’t change. Let God handle it.”

  She took the steps three at a time but stopped at the bottom and looked back. The first time she’d gone up those steps she couldn’t even walk. Instead, she’d used the elevator lift chair. She never wanted to forget how close she came to dying and how God had given her a miracle. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Thanks, God, for giving me back my life.”

  Cooper was at the kitchen surrounded by ingredients and staring at a cookbook. He smiled. “Hey. Did you get hold of Keisha?”

  “No, but I’ll keep trying.”

  “I wish I’d come up with the idea of a summer internship for her sooner. If I had, maybe all this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “True, but she’s responsible for her own actions.” She shrugged. “Maybe next summer. In the meantime, I’ll keep praying but…”

  “It’s hard when someone you care about makes bad choices.”

  “Tell me about it.” She peeked over his shoulder. “Whatcha making?”

  “It’s a new recipe for lasagna.”

  “I liked the old one.”

  “Yeah, me too. But change is good.” He grinned. “At least that’s what my daughter keeps telling me.”

  Nia got a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and then sat down at the kitchen island. “Anything interesting happening this week?” She was becoming accustomed to her role as the puzzle helper in the house. People responded to her and didn’t notice how young she was. That had to be a God thing.

  Cooper looked up from the mess he was creating. The expression on his face was serious. “I’m not sure if you’d call it interesting.”

  She waited.

  “We’ve got a family coming in today. Including the family dog.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mom and Dad and three children.”

  “OK.”

  “The oldest girl is sick.”

  “Oh.” She was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear the next part.

  “Very sick. She has leukemia and isn’t expected to survive.”

  His words took Nia back to when she’d been that sick. Horrible. That was the only word she could think of it to describe it. Finally, she managed to squeak out, “Oh.”

  “I knew this would be tough for you, but I couldn’t say no to the fami—”

  “Don’t they know there’s no healing here anymore?” Sadness filled her as she said the words. More than anything she wished she could help heal this little girl.

  Pain glinted in Cooper’s eyes. “I hope that’s not entirely true. Rachel may not be here any longer to promote physical healing but—”

  “Oh, Cooper. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. Of course there’s more than one kind of healing. And Rachel taught me that spiritual healing is even more important than the physical kind. And you’ve been doing a great job.”

  “You mean you’ve been doing a great job this summer.” He held up a hand. “And it’s OK. I know what you meant. They’re not here for physical healing. They’re just looking for some time together as a family, and they couldn’t really afford a vacation because of all the medical bills.”

  “Then we’ll make sure they have a great week, won’t we?” It might be difficult for her, but as Auntie always said, ‘just because it’s hard doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.’

  He pointed at the lasagna. “That’s what I’m trying to do with this mess. Lasagna is the daughter’s favorite.”

  Nia grinned, “It looks delicious.”

  An hour later, Nia sat in the music room strumming on her guitar. When Rachel had been alive it had been a meeting room, but now it was a practice room. She was working on a song as she prayed for strength for this week. It wouldn’t be easy dealing with someone who had the same thing she’d almost died from, but she wanted to be here for this family. Especially the daughter. Her fingers moved across the strings, but she closed her eyes. God, maybe this is the right time to give me the gift of healing. Just the way I was healed here, let me help heal this little girl. How awesome that would be. Something sparked. Her dread turned into excitement. This was it! This was to be the time and this was the person Nia would first use her gift of healing with. She was sure of it! And she was ready! She’d been helping people with puzzles the past six weeks. Now it was time to go out on her own. And help heal this young girl—with God’s help of course. She savored the moment.

  A car pulled up.

  Nia jumped up, hardly able to contain her excitement. Th
is was it. Her life as a healer was about to begin. She ran out the door to meet her destiny.

  Cooper was already at the passenger door.

  A woman stepped out of the car. Her eyes told the story. Exhausted and sad.

  Nia had seen the same look in Auntie’s eyes.

  Soon that sadness would change to joy. Please, God, let that happen. Nia extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Nia. How was your trip?”

  “We got lost so it took a little longer than expected. I don’t mean to be rude or crude, but we all need to go to the bathroom.”

  Two little boys tumbled from the backseat. The youngest looked to be about four. His blond hair was curly just like his mom’s. He smiled. “I gotta go potty.”

  The older boy had dark hair and eyes to match. “Me, too.”

  Nia grinned and motioned with her hand. “Guess you better follow me then.”

  8

  Nia set two suitcases near the steps just as the bathroom door opened.

  The woman stepped out with the two boys right behind her wiping their wet hands on their jeans. “Where’s Myra?”

  “Your husband took her upstairs to your room. Each room has their own bathroom. We only have one down here.”

  “Not a problem.” She held out her hand. “I’m Vickie. These two little monsters are Mark and Matthew.”

  The oldest boy with the dark hair smiled. “I’m Mark.”

  The little blond walked up and held out his hand. “I’m Matthew, but you can call me Matt.”

  Nia shook his hand and knelt down. “Nice to meet you Matt and Mark. I hope you boys like to fish.”

  Mark responded. “We love to fish but haven’t had time since Myra got sick.” His dark brown eyes flickered. “Myra’s our big sister. She’s very sick.”

  Matt nodded solemnly, his little blond curls bobbed. “She don’t like to play with me anymore.”

  Nia’s heart twisted. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Matt shrugged. “It’s not her fault. It’s ’cause she don’t feel good. She still loves me.”

  “I’m sure she does.” Nia’s gaze moved to Vickie. She smiled, but it was forced. “Let me show you around. Unless you’d rather rest.”