He broke out in a smile, eager to begin his work. Being a youth pastor wasn’t his ultimate goal, but he couldn’t deny the fun opportunities it provided. Four years of college and maturation separated him from his own youth group, but his younger sisters kept him in touch with the struggles today’s youth faced.
Lost in thoughts and planning, he arrived in Farthington with no problems. The trailer rental company had a large sign in front of the building that caught one’s eye and made it difficult to miss. He pulled into one of the long parking spots. While he unhitched the trailer, an employee came out, took his information, performed a quick inspection of the trailer, then returned inside.
A minute later, the employee came back with a receipt and handed it over. “You’re all set. Thanks for your business.”
He took hold of the slip of paper and glanced at it, surprised by the seamless process. “That’s it?”
The employee smiled. “That’s it. Our goal is fast service without compromising quality.”
“Fantastic. Have a good afternoon.” Once behind the driver’s seat, he looked at the clock on the dash. Thanks to the speed of service, he had plenty of time to grab a bite to eat.
Several fast-food restaurants dotted the main strip, and he pulled into one known for their chicken sandwiches. Tacos sounded better today, but not to eat while driving. He could picture the line of taco sauce down his shirt that squirted out from the bottom and the random spots of grease from where lettuce, beef, and cheese jumped out whenever he took a bite.
No, tacos would definitely have to wait no matter how tempting they sounded.
Light bulbs turned on in the creative side of his brain. Why not have a taco bar as a kickoff youth event? He’d missed the window for a back-to-school night, but from what he understood, youth group hadn’t yet started because the former youth minister left earlier than expected. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Food broke barriers, and it would be a good time to get to connect with the kids he’d been entrusted with. He’d add some ridiculous games that made no sense but kids loved. Play festive music in the background and let the kids relax in an unstrained environment.
Peace washed over him as he considered all the fun he’d have with his group while leading them to a closer relationship with Christ. He finished off his meal and held the steering wheel with a loose grip. Using his free hand, he grabbed his soda and took a sip then set it in the cup holder with a broad smile on his face.
He’d give this job everything he had, but it would be the easiest hard work he’d ever done.
Chapter Two
Trixie Graff switched off the radio with more angst than necessary. If she heard “Tis the season to be jolly” one more time, she might scream and pound her fist on the steering wheel. Or at least imagine herself doing it so she didn’t scare Alice.
She glanced in the rearview mirror to the infant mirror above her daughter’s car seat. Alice dozed, unaware of the enormous changes facing them. Her chest lifted and sank in a rhythm of steady breaths that made Trixie mildly envious.
When had she last slept in a peaceful state?
A year ago? Two?
Oddly, her most recent best sleep had been during the first few weeks of Alice’s life. Only after she’d given birth and the sanctity of motherhood set in did she find a renewed purpose in life—one that rubbed a balm over her battered soul. For the first time in months, she’d been able to sleep without shame and guilt invading her slumber.
Or maybe it was sheer exhaustion that caused her to sleep hard for those two hours at a time between feedings.
Either way, as the weeks wore on and the difficulties of raising a newborn alone hit her full force, her sleep was more interrupted than before Alice’s arrival, and every burden she carried multiplied. Every bad decision she’d made—and there’d been a lot—haunted her.
November came, and her sister’s wedding. Jessa had invited her—by phone. None of Trixie’s family knew where she was. She’d kept in touch with Jessa and Phoebe via a prepaid phone, but she hadn’t spoken with her parents since that fateful night.
She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for missing Jessa’s wedding. Yet, she almost didn’t regret it. Pride had kept her from going home—but that moment made her realize she’d hit rock bottom and that something had to give.
Alice deserved the best, and she wasn’t getting it. If not for government assistance, Trixie wouldn’t even be able to meet her daughter’s most basic needs. Her minimum-wage job barely covered rent at the shoddy studio apartment she’d rented. Two nights in a row last month she’d seen a rat scurry across the floor. As of the time she left this morning, her landlord had done nothing to fix the problem.
The rodents were the least of the problems. Drug deals frequently went down in the parking lot and, she suspected in the apartment down the hall. The temperature dipped below freezing on several nights already, and the heat only worked when it wanted. And the water… she wouldn’t trust even boiling it for Alice’s bottles. She spent what little extra money she had on specialized water to mix with the formula.
How far she’d fallen.
The good little church girl, living in squalor as an unwed mother. Abandoned by her baby’s father, estranged from her family.
Only by your choice.
Her conscience reminded her she had no one to blame but herself for the distance between her family and herself. They would welcome her home with open arms.
At least that’s what she banked on.
Here she was—the essential prodigal—returning home.
She’d swallowed her pride, her misplaced ideas, everything that took her away and kept the space between her and those who loved her.
