Page 107 of One Last Promise

She looked at him.Right. “I feel guilty for being . . .”

“For being.” He met her gaze. “Yes, I think you do.”

She frowned, looked away.Huh.

“I think deep down you’re trying to figure out why Pearl died when she had a daughter to take care of, and you stayed.”

“It feels cosmically unfair.”

“Death always feels unfair, especially whenit happens to someone young, like Pearl. Thankfully, God saves us from that unfairness by giving us hope.”

“I don’t feel saved.”

He took a breath. “That’s because right now, you’re not.”

A beat. “What?”

“It doesn’t help you for me to lie to you, Tillie. Jesus came to save us from true death—eternal death. It’s the greatest rescue mission of all time. But you have to be willing to be rescued. You can’t rescue yourself. And that starts with acknowledging that you need rescue.”

He met her eyes, said nothing.

“Like me showing up on your doorstep.”

“Finally,” he said. “The question is, If you know that God wants to rescue you, what is holding you back from reaching out?”

She looked away. “I guess I’ve never been good at asking for help. I saw it as weakness.”

She took a sip of cocoa, ran her thumb down the mug. “Pearl was a princess. She dreamed of happy endings and a prince to save her.” She stared at the sky, the streaks of rose gold. “I used to dream that too.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I used to dream of my dad coming home, taking us out of foster care, rebuilding our family. He used to take us camping near Bear Island, a little campground with a pool and a slide, and sometimes we’d go out to the beach and bury him in the sand. He’d carry me into the waves, and we’d jump them together.”

She leaned her head back. “Sometimes a huge wave would come in, and he’d tell me to duck, and we’d have to go under it. And the wave would crash over us, but as long as I held on to my dad, I was safe, you know?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Wow, her chest had tightened, the back of her throat aching with the story. “Pearl sometimes told Hazel about the ocean. Tried to jog her memory. Told her that someday we’d bring her back. I haven’t thought about that for a long time. Feels like we’re a long, long way from that. A long, long way from giving Hazel the life we dreamed for her.”

“What life is that?”

She couldn’t look at him then. “A mom, and a dad. A home.”

“The life you wanted.”

Aw, shoot, now her eyes burned. “The life I had.”

She felt his gaze on her.

“God is not a joker. He doesn’t give us a dream only to yank it away. He loves you, Tillie, and he’s going to help us figure this out. This isn’t over.”

She didn’t want to argue with him. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He took a sip of cocoa. “Do what?”

“You’re always so calm. All the time. I mean . . . you’d come into the Skyport, and I’d know—I’d justknow—by the look on your face that you’d had a rough rescue. But you didn’t ever snap at me or . . . I don’t know. Like I said . . . unflappable.”

He shook his head. “I’m not calm. But the times I am—it’s when I remember that I’m not in charge.”

“What do you mean, not in charge? You’re the head of the Air One team.”

“I guess I mean just . . . not in my hands. Although I forget that, probably too often.” He looked at her. “I learned a long time ago that I was in over my head. Still am, I guess.” He smiled. “But there’s a verse I keep going back to—God keeps in perfect peace the man—or woman—whose mind is fixed on him, because we trust him. I keep trying to remember that.”

---