“Myself.” I snort. “Gosh, that’s so pathetic.”
“Nah, everyone does that.” He smiles.
Why is my mouth suddenly dry as a bone? Jabari’s eyes twinkle with amusement, and little grooves pop up with his wide grin. It’s so cute.
“Want to know something really pathetic?” he asks.
“Okay,” I drawl out.
“I give myself a pep talk on game days by looking in the mirror.”
“Really?” Why does the image have me stuffing down giggles?
“Really.” He groans and flops back against the cushion. “How can my career just be done like that?” He snaps his fingers. “I wanta do-over so badly. Or at least an opportunity to deck Charles North for slamming me into the boards.”
I reach over, tangling my fingers with his. “God’s got you. I don’t know what your future looks like, but as long as He’s in control, you can be sure that He’s with you in the trial.”
A deep sigh falls from his lips, and I tense. Jabari and I never talk religion, other than my offering to pray. But the way that exhale sounds, a talk is coming.
“Why do you believe, Val? What about your life is so special because of God?”
I blink. My mind mentally scrolls over my life trying to find the right words to answer Jabari.Lord,please giveme wisdom.
“You know my parents are divorced.”
“Right.”
“My sisters and I all handled the pain of them splitting differently. I don’t say this to be malicious or gossip...” I trail off, wondering if what I’m about to say next is the right thing.
“But ... ?” Jabari squeezes my hand.
“Well, Fran became rebellious. She broke curfew, partied hard, all the things. Jackie started dating as if every guy she met had the answers.”
“Let me guess, you turned to God.” There’s no judgment in his voice.
I nod, then speak, remembering he might miss the motion. “I did. The pain was still there, but it became bearable. It was like because God was there, I could process my emotions safely. I ranted, I cried more tears than I could count, and I held on to the comfort that He wouldn’t waste those moments of loss.”
“I can’t comprehend it.” He shakes his head, as if trying to loosen his thoughts. “I don’t understand how you can trust in God when so much bad happens. There’s so much injustice in the world and hurt and...” His hand runs down his face.
“Jabari, there’s going to be sin in the world. It’s the result of Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit, for disobeying God.But that doesn’t mean that He doesn’t have a plan to right their wrongs.”
“But can’t He do it with a snap of His fingers? He could fix the world with one go like Thanos.”
“Sure, He could. He is God, after all. But one”—I hold up a finger—“who am I to say His way is wrong? Two”—I lift up a second finger—“what happens to all the people who are gone with the blink of an eye? He did that in the flood and promised never to do it again. He’s keeping His promise and giving all of us a chance to turn back to Him.”
A look of concentration steals across Jabari’s face. It’s kind of adorable. Makes me wonder if that’s the same expression he wears when learning something knew.
“I can’t fault your logic.”
“But you want to?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugs. “I just want the misery to stop. I thought hockey was the answer, and now I’m lost.”
Is hockey an idol for Jabari?
The thought crosses my mind, but I quickly swat it away. Not because I don’t want to deal with the answer, but because I have no right to judge where he’s at. If God is drawing Jabari near, I want to make sure I’m a light and not a hindrance. If I dwell on the question too long, I could enter into judging—as I’m prone to do.
“Do you want to go to church with me?”
