Beth met her eyes, steady and kind. “Start reading. There’s no wrong place to begin, but I’d suggest the book of John. It’s where my Grandma started with me.”
She offered it again.
This time, Crystal reached out and took it with both hands—cradling it like something fragile. Precious. Like something that finally belonged to her.
“You should come to church with us sometime,” Beth said softly.
It wasn’t just an invitation to a building—it felt like an invitation into her life and her family. God’s family.
“I will,” Crystal whispered as they stood from the couch. “And Beth… seriously, thank you. For everything.” She hesitated. Her eyes flicked away, then back. The words she’d held back finally spilled out, heavy and honest.
“I lied. Bryce didn’t invite me here. I just... made it up.”
Beth nodded. “I know.”
She considered adding thanks for admitting it but held back, not wanting to take away from the fact that her trust in Bryce had never wavered.
Crystal looked down, ashamed. “I really am sorry.”
“I’m not,” Beth said, her voice gentle but thick with emotion. Her throat tightened, but her words didn’t waver. “What you meant for evil… God used for good. He’s done that a lot in my life lately.”
Crystal felt a little silly smiling again, but it was like she couldn’t stop. Like the peace inside her was too big to keep in.
“Can I…” She hesitated, glancing down, remembering why she’d come here in the first place. Her voice was smaller when she finished. “Could I give you a hug?”
Beth didn’t answer with words. She just opened her arms wide. They embraced—no words were said. When they pulled apart, Crystal tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, still humbled, still shaken. She gave a small shake of her head, like she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
Then, she walked to the door.
She paused with her hand on the knob, glancing back to where Beth still stood by the couch. Their eyes met. Crystal gave her a small, endearing little wave. Slipping on her shoes as she slipped out the door, she left with a satisfied smile in place.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Left alone in the office, Beth stood frozen for a beat—then her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the couch as if someone had pulled the plug, letting everything drain out of her. Her body felt heavy, limp, spent—every emotion she’d held back now gushing to the surface.
One hand lifted to cover her mouth. The other pressed to her stomach. And then the sobs came.
Tears soaked her cheeks—joy and pain tangled together, stress pouring out of her in wave after wave.
She was crushed. But not destroyed.
Broken. But not abandoned.
Her hope was in the Lord.
Beautiful things come from a crushing weight.Sand. Diamonds. Coffee!
And now—this.
Beth closed her eyes and prayed. She let every swirling thought, every weight, every aching moment drain into the only One who could hold them all. She thanked God for giving her the words to point Crystal to Him—for the strength to speak His truth when it would’ve been easier to harm.
In Ephesians, Paul talked about making the gospel known with boldness.
Wow, Lord… thank You for giving me that boldness today.
But now that the moment had passed, Beth felt like she could fall apart. Her hands trembled in her lap. Her chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow, like her body was just now catching up to the trauma her heart had lived through.
The adrenaline was gone and all that was left was awe. And exhaustion.
