Christy Miller Collection, Vol 4

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Christy smiled at her freckled-face, clear-eyed friend. “I’m sure there is. You will be a treasure for any guy to discover.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Christy. I guess I should just be patient and see what God has in mind, right?”

  Christy nodded. But her thoughts were rapidly traveling back in time.

  “Hello in there,” Sierra said, waving her hand in front of Christy’s face. “Where did you go?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about last summer. My family went camping, and we were hiking along this mountain trail that cut through the middle of a forest. My dad was next to me, and he held out his arm for me to hold on to while we walked down this path that was shaded by a canopy of huge trees.”

  Christy glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one else was listening. She leaned a little closer to Sierra and continued her story. “My dad comes across kind of gruff most of the time, but every now and then his tender side shows through, and he does or says things that just level me emotionally. So here we are, parading arm in arm down this trail, and he says, ‘One day I’ll be walking like this down the church aisle, and I’ll be giving you away.’”

  Sierra’s eyes opened wide. “What did you do? I would have started to cry right there.”

  “Well, I almost did. It was so incredibly tender, the way his voice came out all rough and whispery at the same time. And then he said, ’Christina, I know you’ll be wearing white on that day. I’ll never be able to tell you how proud I am of you.” Christy blinked away a tear. “And then from out of nowhere there came this wind that made all the trees start to shake their leaves. You know how it can sound like applause?”

  “I know; I love that sound.” Sierra said. “It’s like that verse about all the trees in the field clapping their hands for joy.”

  Christy nodded. “Then my dad said, ‘You’re surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, Christy. Just listen.’ So we stood there together, arm in arm, listening to the wind in the trees. Then my dad said. ‘They’re clapping for you, honey. They know a true princess when they see one.’”

  Now Christy and Sierra were both crying, with slow, silent tears rolling down their cheeks.

  “I am so glad I’ve been saving myself for my future husband,” Sierra said softly. “That is, if there is a future husband for me somewhere. The peer pressure is for such a short time. And being married is like…” Sierra paused, searching for the right word.

  “Forever,” Christy said.

  “Yeah. Forever.”

  When Christy and her other teammates arrived back at Carnforth Hall at the end of their outreach, they joined all the other teams in the chapel. Even though it was late, everyone was wide awake, enthusiastically sharing stories of what God had done that day. The room seemed electrified with excitement as, for more than an hour, the team members took turns sharing their stories with the whole group.

  They could have gone on for another hour, but Dr. Benson stepped in and closed the meeting by giving final details of when each of the teams was leaving for its ministry destination. Some were scheduled to depart in the morning because they had a longer distance to travel. The Belfast team wasn’t leaving until later in the day. Their train ride would lake them to Stranraer, where they would board the Sea Cat, a modern, high-speed ferry that would take them directly into Belfast Harbor at six o’clock that evening.

  “You’ll be met by the Reverend Norman Hutchins and his wife, Ruby.” Dr. Benson read from his list while Doug quickly wrote down the names. “They have received a fax from us with your photo. Doug, so they’ll be looking for you.”

  Dr. Benson went on to the next team and read their itinerary. Christy thought perhaps she should have written down some of the details for their trip. All she remembered was that they had to be ready to leave Carnforth Hall at eleven o clock. From there, she could rely on Doug to lead them to Belfast.

  As the meeting drew to a close, Christy’s new friends from Finland. Merja and Satu, came over to say good-bye. “Our gioup leaves for Barcelona at four o’clock in the morning-, so we had better say good-bye now. We’re so glad we met you.”

  “Me too.” Christy returned both their hugs. “Have a great time in Barcelona, and I’ll see you back here for the last two days of the conference.”

  All over the chapel, people were hugging, laughing, crying. Some were gathered in small groups, holding hands and praying for each other. Christy felt sure God was about to do something incredible with each group.

  The next morning breakfast was served at seven o’clock. Christy thought it seemed noticeably quieter in the dining room since two of the teams had already left. The Amsterdam team was scheduled to depart right after breakfast. Christy and Sierra had their suitcases packed and were ready to go.

  Just as Christy took her last spoonful of porridge, Dr. Benson walked into the dining room and scanned the students’ faces until his gaze rested on Christy’s. He strode over to her and said, “May I speak with you a moment in my office?”

  “Sure.” Christy gave Katie and Sierra a shrug of her shoulders and followed him out the door. She couldn’t help but feel she was in trouble. Or worse, what if it was bad news about something at home, like Avril’s call?

  “Is everything okay?” Christy asked as soon as she was seated in the chair in front of his huge wooden desk.

  Dr. Benson took his seat and picked up some papers from his desk, which Christy recognized as her application. “Yes, I’d simply like to ask you a few questions.”

  Christy swallowed, and a bit of oatmeal caught in her throat. She began to cough.

  “It says here that you speak Spanish.”

  Christy nodded and tried to stop her cough. “I… I took it for four years in high school.” She kept coughing. “But I’m not fluent.” The irritating tickle continued.

  Dr. Benson rose and poured her a drink of water from a glass carafe sitting on the windowsill. “Are you all right, then?”

  Christy quickly drank the water then cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine now. Thanks.”

  Dr. Benson continued. “We had an excellent report from Reverend Allistar regarding the children’s ministry you led at his church on Saturday. You also have a glowing reference here from the children’s ministry director at your home church.” Placing the papers on his desk and leaning back in his chair, Dr. Benson said, “Let me come to the point. Perhaps you remember Avril, the young woman who went home last week.”

  “Yes. I heard her brother is out of the hospital and doing well,” Christy said.

  “He is, and that is good news. However. Avril has decided to stay home and not participate in the outreach. We completely understand her decision. Our dilemma is that Avril was our children’s ministry worker on the Barcelona team.”

  “Oh,” said Christy.

  “There’s more. Just this morning we received a fax from our missionary in Barcelona that their full-time children’s worker had to return to the States. So as you can see, Barcelona is in great need of someone to do the children’s ministry, particularly someone who is capable and who has a Spanish background.”

  Christy wasn’t sure what he was getting at until Dr. Benson said, “What I’m asking, Christy, is are you willing to go to Barcelona?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You’re the most qualified. It’s up to you though. Are you willing to trust God in this new way?”

  “I…don’t know. Didn’t the Barcelona team already leave this morning?”

  “Yes. What we would do is put you on the train with the Amsterdam team. You would travel with them as far as France and then take the train by yourself to Barcelona.”

  “By myself?”

  Dr. Benson smiled. “The Lord will be with you. This is why I’m asking if you’re willing to trust God in a new way.”

  Christy had never expected this. They were asking her to leave all her friends and travel alone to a place she wasn’t prepared for and, from the sounds of it, single-handedly carry on the ch
ildren’s ministry. The only comforting thought was that Satu and Merja were on the Barcelona team. Certainly they would help her out.

  “I don’t know. Is it up to me to decide?”

  “Yes, completely. I wish we had more time, but the Amsterdam team is leaving in…” he checked his watch, “… about ten minutes, and we would like you to travel with them as far as Calais.”

  “Calais? Where’s that?”

  “France.” Dr. Benson picked up a fax and read the schedule. “You’ll change trains at Calais and take an overnight train to Port Bou. We’ll arrange for you to have a sleeper car, so you’ll be quite safe and comfortable. You will arrive in Port Bou on the Spanish side of the border at 11:02 the next morning and change trains to Barcelona at 12:25. You will arrive at Sants, the main train station in Barcelona, at 2:55 that afternoon. From there you’ll take a commuter train at 3:15 and arrive at Playa Castelldefels at 3:30. It’s really a lovely ride down the Costa Brava.”

  Christy bowed her head, closed her eyes, and pursed her lips. Perhaps Dr. Benson thought she was praying. She was really trying hard not to cry. It all hit her so hard and fast. His rapid-fire itinerary seemed overwhelming. Plus this was her worst nightmare, having to make split-second decisions that might affect the rest of her life.

  She knew the need was great, but what about Belfast? Gemot and the others could carry on in her absence, she supposed. Still, how could she change directions so instantly and go to Barcelona instead of Belfast? She had already written her parents and told them she was going to Belfast.

  “Would I be doing the same lessons I prepared for Belfast?” she asked, stalling for time.

  “Yes, everything from your training will be exactly the same. They already have the craft materials and puppets with them. You’ll be in a small town outside Barcelona, right on the Mediterranean coast, and working with our local missionary. It’s much warmer there than in Belfast.”

  Christy wondered if he actually thought the weather would make a difference in her decision. It wasn’t the weather; it was the insecurity of leaving her friends and doing something on her own. And the panic of having only a few seconds to decide.

  “Okav. I’ll go,” Christy heard herself blurt out. For a moment she thought it was someone else’s voice. Then, as if to make sure she heard herself right, she repeated, “I’ll go to Barcelona.”

  “Wonderful!” Dr. Benson said with a huge smile. “The Lord will bless your devoted service to Him. This is the essence ot genuine missionary work and separates the spectators from the true servants. You have the kind of heart God can use to accomplish great things for His kingdom!”

  Christy wished she felt as brave as he made her sound. Before she realized what was happening, a stack of papers was thrust into her hand, and Dr. Benson was explaining how she was to go about buying her tickets when she arrived at Victoria Station in London.

  Suddenly she wished she had said no. How could she remember all these details and manage to change trains by herself? She had depended on Doug during the rest of this trip to direct her to the right bus and train.

  Maybe this was part of what God wanted to teach her, to be completely independent from any guy—or any human, for that matter—and to trust God alone.

  She didn’t have time to think of all the reasons for this crazy twist. All she knew was that in less than ten minutes, she had to get all her luggage downstairs and find a way to say good-bye to Katie, Doug, Tracy, Sierra, and the rest of her team.

  Christy rose to leave.

  Dr. Benson shook her hand warmly. “We’ll fax your file to the mission director in Castelldefels. Your photo is on here, so he’ll know who to look for at the station. It’s a very small station. I’m sure you two will have no difficulty in finding each other. You know how Americans tend to stand out in a crowd.”

  Christy’s head was spinning with details as she clutched her papers in her hand and, with weak knees, hurried up to her room.

  I’m going to Spain. All by myself. I can’t believe this is happening. And I won’t even arrive there until tomorrow afternoon’.

  Seven minutes later, Christy stood in front of the two Carnforth Hall vans, which were being loaded with the Amsterdam team’s luggage.

  “Good-bye.” Tracy said, hugging Christy. “I love you. I’ll be praying for you. You’ll never know how much this past week with you has meant to me.”

  “I love you too,” Christy replied.

  “Okay, my turn to freak out, here.” Katie gave Christy a quick hug and tried hard to keep the tears in her green eyes from spilling over. “Can I just say one thing?”

  Christy had to smile. Katie always used that line, but she always had more than one thing to say.

  Katie struck her buff muscle-man pose and spouted, “You are missionary woman!”

  They all laughed, which made it easier for Christy to hug Gemot, Ian, and Stephen. But then it was Doug’s turn. and she felt herself choking up.

  “You’re awesome, Christy.” he said, wrapping his arms around her in one of his super hugs. “God is awesome. He’s going to do awesome things in your life. Thanks for everything. Really. Thanks.”

  He squeezed her in another hug, and she whispered in his ear, “You’re welcome, Sir Honesty. Take care of your princess.”

  Doug pulled away and smiled at her. “I will.” he said. “Thanks. Christy.”

  Sierra was the last to say good-bye. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m going to see you again in just a little more than a week when we meet back here.” She hugged Christy. “I just feel like we really connected, you know? I wish we could have stayed together.”

  “I know.” Christy said. “Me too. You can come to Barcelona with me if you want.” Christy playfully grabbed Sierra by the arm and pretended to push her into the van.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Katie said. “Red rover, red rover, send Sierra back over!”

  Doug said, “Losing you, Christy, is about as much of a sacrifice as anyone should have to make in one week.”

  Christy thought his words carried an underlying message aimed at their breaking up. That made it even harder for her to leave. She thought of how close their team had become after their week of training. God had answered her prayers for unity, and now they were becoming divided by her leaving. It didn’t make sense.

  Katie’s phrase echoed in her mind: “God is weird.”

  “Time to go,” the van driver called as he started up the engine.

  Forcing a smile, Christy waved to her old teammates and climbed into the van. “Bye. I’ll be praying for you guys. Pray for me!”

  The van door slid shut, and Christy’s seven friends all stood in a line, waving good-bye. Then at Katie’s signal. just as the van pulled away, all seven of them assumed a weight-lifter pose and called out, “You are missionary woman!”

  She laughed aloud, and one of the guys in the van said. “What was that?”

  “A little joke,” Christy said, still wavering between smiling and crying.

  The train ride to London seemed to go quickly. Christy sat beside Jakobs, the guy from Latvia Katie had introduced her to. Jakobs was several years younger than Christy, but in some ways he seemed more mature, as if he had lived more of life in his sixteen years than Christy would experience in a lifetime. Jakobs wore his very short hair brushed straight up in the front. He was a few inches shorter than Christy.

  Several hours into their train ride, Jakobs bought Christy a cup of tea and shared some of his sack lunch with her. Mrs. Bates had handed each of the students a sack lunch and at the same time had promptly planted a kiss on every team member’s right cheek. Christy had stuck her lunch into an open corner of her suitcase, which was now nearly impossible to get at. She gladly shared Jakobs’s sandwich.

  “Are you yet used to the idea of going to Spain?” Jakobs asked.

  Something mechanical turned on inside Christy’s head. and she said. “Yes. I believe this is God’s plan, and so I know He will work everything o
ut. I’m learning to trust God in new ways.”

  A slow grin crept up Jakobs’s face. “I think you are speaking to me through the flowers.”

  Although Jakobs’s English was very good, sometimes his accent made his words sound a little unclear to Christy. She asked what he meant by “speaking through the flowers.”

  Jakobs looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s an expression from where I live in Riga. We use it to mean when a person is making a pretty covering for his words and not saying what he truly feels. You are then ‘speaking to me through the flowers.”’

  Christy knew Jakobs was right. She was trying to sound brave and spiritual. What she really felt was terrified. Did she dare tell him? He seemed the sort of person she could trust.

  “I’m really scared,” she said.

  Jakobs gave her a look of compassion and said, “Of what?”

  “Of getting lost. Of missing my train connections.” “Then you can take the next train.” Jakobs answered logically.

  “But what if I can’t find the right train? What if something happens, and I lose my luggage or my passport?”

  “You go to your Embassy, apply for another passport, and wear your same clothes for two days in a row.”

  Christy couldn’t tell if Jakobs was teasing her or if he was trying to be helpful. Earlier that week Christy had overheard Jakobs talking with a Texan about how Americans were overly concerned about their clothes and hygiene. The girl from Texas had to wash and blow-dry her hair every morning, and she never went out in public without her makeup perfectly applied. Jakobs told her she should try wearing the same clothes for more than one day to practice being a good steward of what God had given her. The girl told Jakobs he was crazy.

  Christy didn’t think he was crazy, but she did think he had a rather simplistic approach to life. “What if I get attacked, or what if I get killed?” Christy challenged him with a worst-possible scenario.