Tommy Nelson's Brave Girls Confidential Page 6
“Is this a real place?” Hope asked.
“Kinda. There are tunnels like that on the Blue Ridge Parkway. My parents take us up there for drives sometimes.”
“I love how the light comes through and how everything’s so colorful,” Hope said. “Like trees in the fall. You’re such a good artist, Faith. I wish I could do that!”
“Thanks,” Faith said, thinking this might be her best painting yet. She still had more work left to do, but it would be worth it.
Faith heard the commotion before she saw it. Anna was making that familiar zooming sound, pretending to ride an invisible zip line. Anna’s friend David chased her into the sunroom where Faith was painting. Anna tried to slow down but failed. She ran right into Faith, then Faith fell over onto the easel and then . . .
The canvas crashed to the floor.
But that wasn’t the worst part. Faith came crashing down with it. When she fell, her hand tore right through the thin material of the painting.
“Anna!” she called out. Anna and David stood frozen, eyes wide.
They all looked down at the giant rip. Faith couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t breathe. Then as she began to cry, she rushed out of the room, leaving Anna, David, and Hope with the ruined painting.
She never wanted to talk to Anna again. Ever.
• • •
After Hope’s mom picked her up from Faith’s house, Faith stayed in her room. There was a knock on Faith’s door.
“Faith, someone wants to tell you something,” Dad said after opening it.
Anna walked in looking dejected. It was hours after she had destroyed the painting Faith worked so hard on.
“I’m sorry,” Anna said, her voice soft and worried.
Faith sat on her bed and felt the tears coming again. She looked away, unable to say anything.
“Okay, Anna,” Dad said. “Let me talk to Faith.” So Anna left the room.
Then Dad sat next to Faith and asked about what happened. She’d already told Mom everything, yelling and saying it had been her best painting ever. Dad had just gotten home from work when Faith had started up the stairs to her room.
When Faith was finished telling her Dad what had happened, wiping tears from her cheeks, he put his arm around her.
“Anna’s in big trouble,” Dad said. “She knew better than to be so rowdy in the house. She’s sorry, Faith. And I’m very sorry this happened. But listen, do you know the great thing about painting? Or really any kind of art form? Like music or writing?”
“What?” Faith asked.
“It’s never truly finished. Even the great artists have often said how they wanted to go back and change their great ‘masterpieces.’”
“Really?”
Dad nodded. “There’s only been one artist who truly created something perfect. That’s God. He created this world and every animal and the sun and the moon and everything else. You know what He said after He made them, right?”
“He said whatever He’d just created was good,” Faith replied.
“That’s right. God is perfect, and He does perfect things. But we’re not. So anything we make—it won’t ever be perfect. And that’s okay.”
“But my painting—I’d worked so hard on it . . .”
“Consider it practice for your next masterpiece,” Dad said. “You love to paint, right?”
“Yeah,” Faith said.
“Tomorrow will be a new day. Just like God made it to be. We get to start again every single morning.”
The next day, Faith got her paints together and started working. Her October painting—her second October painting—was finished. And it wasn’t even the end of the month.
Faith stood smiling as she surveyed it.
“It’s pretty, don’t you think?” Anna asked.
“Beautiful,” Faith agreed.
Anna stood holding the thicker paintbrush, having just put the final touches on the petals. The roses looked like the ones growing in their garden. Some of the flowers looked out of proportion, but that was okay.
“Let’s show Mom and Dad,” Anna said, running back into the kitchen to find them, her dripping brush making a trail behind her.
“Don’t run!” Faith said.
After forgiving Anna, Faith had come up with an idea to help her sister feel less guilty: she’d let Anna help a little with the next painting. It’d been hard at first, especially not saying anything or correcting what Anna did. Faith kept reminding herself that nothing was perfect, and that she and her sister and everybody else were all works in progress. And before she knew it, the two girls were giggling together and sharing in the fun of one of Faith’s favorite things.
Heavenly Father, help me let go of fears and frustrations. Help me not to worry about things that may go wrong. Thank You for loving me even though I do imperfect things, and remind me that my strength comes from You. Amen.
Talk About It
1.What was Faith worrying about?
2.Do you ever find yourself worrying or feeling anxious? What about?
3.Who do you talk to about your fears and frustrations?
4.How did Faith respond after Anna apologized for ruining the painting?
5.What did Faith’s dad tell her about painting?
GIVING OVER YOUR CONCERNS TO GOD
Gracie’s Triumph
Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!
—2 Corinthians 9:15 niv
Ooh, I love this song,” Gracie said from the backseat of the SUV.
“Me too!” Glory squealed in the front passenger seat and turned up the volume. The heavy bass of the dance song rumbled as the girls sang along.
Glory’s mom was taking them to small group on a cold, wintry Wednesday evening. First she’d picked up Honor and then Gracie. The rain was turning into tiny ice pebbles that popped against the car windows.
Gracie was soon singing louder than the others, enjoying every note.
“Go, Gracie!” Glory called out from the front, cheering her on.
For once, Gracie didn’t feel self-conscious singing in front of others. She felt safe and happy. So she kept singing. When the song was over, everybody was cheering.
“You have a great voice,” Honor said.
“Let’s start a girl band! Gracie can be our lead singer,” Glory said.
“Only if I can be the manager. You’ve got a great gift, Gracie!” Glory’s mom said with a smile.
“I don’t know about that!” Gracie replied.
Soon they were singing to another favorite song that blasted out of the speakers. Even though the weather was gloomy, Gracie felt happy and warm inside.
At their small group, the Brave Girls talked about the outreach event coming up. Christmas was just a couple of weeks away, and each year the church helped out at a local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve. All the small groups would do something special at the event. The girls had been brainstorming lots of ideas on how they could help.
“We could bring our pets,” Honor said.
“Or bring sports equipment so we can play some kind of game after dinner,” Hope suggested.
“Maybe we can have the people design their own scarves or hats!” Glory said.
They all looked at her. Glory realized that maybe not everybody—especially the men—would like decorating accessories. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“How about we buy gifts for the homeless kids?” Gracie said. “Or maybe for the adults who have kids living somewhere else and want to take them presents?”
The girls felt excited, so they talked about ideas for items they could each buy. Faith wrote all the ideas down and said she’d e-mail the list to everybody.
“I love this idea,” Hope said. “Everyone should get a gift on Christmas.”
• • •
Gracie and her mom went to the store to buy a few items for dinner. They turned the corner, and Gracie stood facing several aisles full of toys. Row after row of dolls and stuffed animals and cars and games.
“One thing,” Mom said. “Remember, we’re on a budget.”
Gracie nodded. She heard that from her parents a lot these days. She couldn’t remember her family being on a budget before. Last Christmas she’d asked for a tablet and had gotten one. A really nice one.
Soon Gracie and her mom found a couple of great toys on sale—a game for an older kid and a baby doll Gracie thought would be perfect for a young girl. Her mom said she could get both.
After the checkout guy finished ringing up the items in their shopping cart, Gracie’s mom swiped her credit card and waited. And waited.
“It’s not working,” he said. “Try again.”
Mom tried one more time. Then another. Then she tried a second card. But it did the same thing.
“Maybe can you try something else?” the young man asked.
Mom looked embarrassed and frustrated, glancing at the line forming behind them.
“I can put the toys back,” Gracie said.
“No, it’s just . . .” Mom said in a shaky voice. “There’s just been a mistake. We’ll get it figured out,” she said and then looked at the cashier. “I’m sorry—we’ll put these items back and figure out what’s going on.”
Gracie followed her mom as she wheeled the cart back toward the aisles, not knowing what to say, wondering if maybe things were worse than her mom and dad were telling her.
When they got to the car, Gracie’s mom called Dad. He was at home with PT.
“I thought we had enough money in the checking account,” Mom said, clearly upset.
Gracie heard one side of the conversation, but that was enough to know what was going on.
“But what am I supposed to do?” Mom asked. She listened and then said they’d be home soon. She started the car and took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” Gracie asked.
Mom looked more than just upset. She looked tired. Really tired.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes. It’s just—we have to really cut back this Christmas. Since your dad lost his good-paying job, things have been tough.”
“But both of you work all the time,” Gracie said, not understanding.
“We’re working hard until we find better jobs. And since we’re around family now, they’re helping out,” Mom said.
Because she’d always talked to her parents about anything that was on her mind, she asked, “Are we in trouble?”
“No. God is taking care of us. It’s just—like I said, we need to be very careful about what we spend this year.”
Gracie couldn’t help feeling scared. “But what about groceries?”
Mom grabbed her hand and held it tight.
“Don’t worry about anything, Gracie. I didn’t say we wouldn’t have food to eat. God provides. He always has. He also wants us to be good stewards with our money.”
“What’s steward mean?” Gracie asked.
Mom smiled. “It means being smart with the money you have. So maybe you don’t need that bag of frosted donuts next time we’re shopping.”
“I can handle that,” Gracie said, smiling at her mom. “But that means Dad can’t have his Oreo ice cream bars.”
“Deal,” Mom said.
Gracie still couldn’t help worrying. It was just a week before Christmas, and she worried she didn’t have a gift for the kids at the homeless shelter. But most of all she worried about one thing. At dinner, she asked Mom and Dad the question that bothered her most.
“Are we going to have to move again?”
Dad finished his bite of meatloaf and smiled weakly. “No. I don’t think so.”
“PT, eat your dinner,” Mom said, probably wanting to change the conversation.
“I hate meatloaf!” her brother said.
“I’m going to be helping Uncle Pete in his warehouse the next week,” Dad said. “And I have a couple of interviews. Things are looking up. Something’s going to happen soon. I can feel it.”
Her dad seemed to be saying this more to Mom than to Gracie, but Mom was distracted by PT.
“You should be grateful for the food you have,” she told PT. “Some children aren’t so fortunate.”
“They’re lucky if they don’t have to eat meatloaf! It tastes like dog food.”
“Philip Thomas,” Dad said, silencing her brother.
“When have you ever tasted dog food?” Mom asked. “That’s just silly.”
Gracie had barely touched her dinner. For once, she agreed with her brother. Meatloaf was not her favorite either. But Gracie went ahead and took a few more bites. She knew she needed to be thankful for everything. Everything.
That night Gracie’s mom turned on Christmas music while the family worked together to clean up after dinner. As Gracie sang along with the familiar carols, she paid more attention to the lyrics. As she dried and put away the plates, she heard the first few notes of a song she’d always loved.
Away in a manger
No crib for His bed.
The little Lord Jesus
Lay down His sweet head.
If Jesus didn’t even have a bed, Gracie could certainly be okay without getting more gifts. She had all she needed already. She was still thinking about that song when another very different Christmas song began to play. “The Little Drummer Boy” was a song about a boy who didn’t have a gift to give the baby Jesus, so he used his talent of drumming. That’s when Gracie had an idea.
“What’s that smile about, Gracie?” her dad asked.
“I think I know what I can give this week at the homeless shelter,” she said.
• • •
“Okay, everybody,” Mrs. Schamberger said into the microphone. “We have one more treat for you tonight.”
Gracie looked up to the stage. Was it her turn? She could feel her whole body shaking.
The room was full of maybe 250 or 300 people, many of them families having a Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. There had been a variety of fun activities happening throughout the meal—one group of kids did a funny skit and another read the Christmas story from the Bible.
Gracie sat with some of the residents and the other Brave Girls.
“Come on up, Gracie,” Mrs. Schamberger called from the front.
Gracie felt all eyes on her as she walked up to the stage.
“This is Gracie. She and her family moved to South Carolina all the way from Pennsylvania. This is her first Christmas with the church.” Mrs. Schamberger gave her a big smile of encouragement and then stepped aside.
When Gracie took the microphone, she almost dropped it. She spoke into it and said hello but couldn’t hear herself, so she said it again and a booming “HELLO!” filled the room.
“Oops, sorry,” Gracie said sheepishly into the mic.
A lot of people in the room were still eating and talking and moving about. That made her feel a little better as she began.
“Silent night, holy night,” she sang.
Suddenly, the conversations stopped and everybody became still. They all watched her sing. Gracie still felt nervous, but she also felt joy. As she sang, Gracie felt like she was telling the room something good, something they all wanted to hear. And it made her feel warm and happy. She was able to finish the song and didn’t forget a single word.
Everyone applauded and some even stood up to clap. Gracie felt so glad to see they had liked her gift.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
Dear Jesus, I’m so glad You were born. Help me to celebrate Your birth every day and to share this joy with others. Amen.
Talk About It
1.Why couldn’t Gracie get presents for the church event?
2.What made Gracie not worry but, instead, find joy?
3.What should you celebrate at Christmastime?
4.What gift did Gracie give during dinner at the shelter?
5.What gift can you give others today?
> STRIVING TO REMAIN BRAVE IN EVERYTHING
Hope’s Victory
Depend on the Lord. Trust him, and He will take care of you.
—Psalm 37:5
Hope gripped her lightweight, birch wood bat and held it in position. She looked straight at the pitcher. He seemed so tall. She tried not to be nervous but couldn’t help it. It was her first game with this Little League team.
She was no longer playing with the little kids. She was on a team named the Cubs with older kids.
Hope was also the only girl playing on any of the Little League teams.
The first pitch was fast. Really fast. She swung the bat but was way too late.
“Strike one,” the umpire called out.
She heard a snicker behind her. The catcher was laughing at her. She looked into the stands to see her parents and brothers smiling and waving at her.
“Just play your game,” her dad had said. “Don’t worry about anything else. Don’t worry that you’re playing against boys. Just be you.”
The next ball curved and was impossible to hit. She swung before she realized she shouldn’t have.
“Strike two!”
There was some noise in the other team’s dugout. Some of the Indians’ players called out taunts.
“What do you think this is, Girl Scouts?” one kid yelled.
“Do you need a pink ball?” another boy teased.
Hope gritted her teeth, refusing to let them bring her down. She got ready, steadied herself, watched the ball, and . . .
Held her bat still.
The umpire let loose with a loud and low “Strike three!” followed by “Out!” that sounded more like “Ooooooowwwwwwwwwww!”
The Indians team shouted as if they’d just hit a home run. Hope ignored them, walking back to her dugout as her teammates cheered her on. She looked to the stands as her dad raised a sign he’d made himself.