“Are you named after Elijah from the Bible?”
He held open the door to the fellowship hall for her. “Yes and no. I’m named after my grandfather, but he was named for the biblical Elijah, so in a roundabout way I was.”
“I named Alice after my grandmother on my dad’s side. She died when I was young, but old enough to have pleasant memories of her.” She stepped into the room and stopped. “I remember her always being joyful, even when she got sick at the end. I want my Alice to experience the same joy in life.”
“She’s surrounded by Godly women who love her and set positive examples for her. I don’t think you have to worry.”
“I was, too, but still strayed.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind sharing.” He walked to the backdrop they’d painted earlier of a park scene.
“The short version—I was a spoiled brat.” She picked up the top corner of the king-sized sheet. “I was the youngest and used to getting all the attention. When my brother got in trouble, that all changed and in my immature mind, I decided I’d act out to make my parents notice me.”
“Not uncommon.” He lifted the other corner, and they carefully carried it out of the fellowship hall.
“Maybe so, but I was old enough to know better. Especially when, looking back, I realize my parents hadn’t neglected me at all.” Her self-condemning laugh echoed in the empty halls.
“What advice would you give to someone in a similar situation to keep them from going down that path?” He caught her gaze from behind his side of the sheet and smiled. “For research purposes.”
She sighed loudly. “That’s a tough one because many times, you won’t realize that is what’s happening until it’s too late, but if anything, try to redirect their focus from themselves after reminding them they are loved.”
“How is your brother?”
“As good as can be expected. He might get out a few months early for good behavior.” Her voice dropped. “I haven’t gone to see him yet.”
He heard the pain in her voice, chose his words carefully. “It can’t be easy seeing a sibling serving time. I always hated when one of mine got grounded, and that’s nothing compared to what you’re experiencing.”
When she didn’t reply, he worried he’d said the wrong thing. They maneuvered the sheet up the stairs, moving it as little as possible in case any paint hadn’t dried.
She paused at the sanctuary doors. “Can I make a confession?”
“Anything you say won’t leave here.” He ignored the surge of happiness that she trusted him—this was about being there for her, not gloating to himself that he’d won her over to friendship.
“I told my mom I haven’t visited him yet because it’s hard to see my brother—whom I used to admire— in jail, but the truth is, I feel guilty.”
“How so?”
“I did the same things he did, probably even worse, but I didn’t get caught. Not by the law at least.”
He motioned for her to drape the sheet over several pews. “At the risk of sounding trite, God has a plan for each of us. Have you thought that perhaps you needed different consequences than Hunter in order to achieve those plans?”
Her face went blank, unreadable. “No, I haven’t.”
“Think about it.” He closed the gap between them to stand in front of her. “Didn’t you say he’s been attending a Bible study?”
She nodded. “Mom said he rededicated his life to the Lord last week.”
“God reached you and Hunter in different ways, but both brought you back to Him. Don’t feel guilty, but thank God for His unfailing love.”
Her sharp inhale made a whooshing noise. “That’s deep.”
“If you want, I have a book in my office that might help you. I can give it to you before we leave.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He dropped his gaze to their backdrop. “Ready to hang this?”
“Let’s do it.” She picked up her corner. “This one goes farthest back, right?”
