Loneliness had found him during the years when he and Daniel had fended for themselves in St. Louis. It had followed him to every faraway place he’d visited the past year and a half. Now it had chased him into the heart of the forest.
Everyone Zander knew appeared to deal with loneliness better than he did. Was his loneliness a character flaw? Or was he simply someone who had a need for connection buried deep inside him, like a time capsule beneath concrete?
He sat on a rock embedded in the hill and studied the clearing. Gradually, as the sun broke free and poured honey-colored light over the pool, he understood that he wasn’t fully alone.No humans were near. But he could sense God’s presence in this remote place.
He’d sensed God’s presence this very same way the day of the fire. His first night in his new bedroom at Frank and Carolyn’s house. After one of his early cooking sessions with Britt, when they’d sat on Bradfordwood’s terrace eating cupcakes and watching the sun set. The day he’d learned he’d been offered a college scholarship. When he’d felt led to try his hand at writing a book. Standing on a towering cliff overlooking the English Channel.
God had made a way for Zander to accomplish everything he’d accomplished so far. He’d been beside him all along. Was beside him even now. Yet somewhere along the way Zander had grown unsure of God, and so he’d stopped depending on Him.
If God wanted to condemn him, he understood.
If God was angry with him, he understood.
Here’s the thing, though.Hewas also angry with God.
Zander’s childhood had made him defensive, quick to protect himself by pulling away from people he suspected he couldn’t trust. He knew that wasn’t the right reaction to his unanswered prayers, but he didn’t know how to fix his response. He’d tried to cure himself of his disillusionment by attending church on Sunday, no matter where he traveled.
It hadn’t worked.
Turning his hands so that his palms faced up, Zander made himself bend his head to pray. He asked God to forgive him, but even as he did, his soul felt cold and distant. He asked God to protect Britt, Carolyn, Courtney, and Sarah. He prayed for wisdom concerning Britt.
His mind wandered.
He continued praying.
His mind wandered.
He groaned with frustration and, pressing to his feet, gave up. It seemed sacrilegious to pray such a lousy prayer when he should be experiencing genuine gratitude. In light of the crucifixion, what right did he have to complain?
None. He was lonelyandselfish.
He ran back in the direction of his car without peace or resolution, his thoughts gravitating to Britt.
He had loved her for so, so long.
He was hers. There was no changing his course, no getting over her, no moving on.
He’d ruined their friendship by kissing her. Trying to recapture what they’d had before was useless. So he should tell her how he felt.
His pace cut off. He stumbled to a stop.
For years, he’d been asking God for Britt’s love. But not once had he taken action to obtain her love. The timing hadn’t been right. He’d had far too much to lose.
He didn’t have as much to lose now.
Surprised conviction coursed from the top of his head to his feet and back again. It was time to tell her.
If she didn’t want to date him, then she didn’t.
But if she did—
She wouldn’t.
But if she did...
She wouldn’t.
It felt foolish, stupidly reckless, to let himself hope.
