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she’d lived long enough to understand that procrastinating things you dreaded provided no benefits.
People often weren’t what they seemed.
“Give Him time,” Willow said. “The more you get to know Him, the more trustworthy He’ll prove himself to be.”
In the end what mattered was a person’s ability to back up their words over and over and over again with actions.
Corbin saw her. And not just the outward part of her that everyone else saw. He saw her sense of humor, which usually went unnoticed. He saw the scars that her mother’s abandonment had left. He saw her idiosyncrasies and her strengths and her weaknesses and seemed to find beauty in the whole.
Perhaps she’d been so bent on protecting herself from the improbable that, somewhere along the line, she’d stopped believing in the miraculous.
When Willow took the long view of her dad’s story, she could see plainly how God had taken her dad’s failures and sorrows and created something beautiful out of them. Why was it so hard for her to accept that God could do the same for her?
He, in His grace, was giving her a new beginning.
Lord God, make something beautiful out of our mistakes, in your time.
“There’s freedom in admitting that you’re not good, in being accepted for who you actually are. It was a relief for me when I got to that place.”
It was a person’s stubborn determination to stick by another when things got hard, in the very worst moments, that defined love.
He stared at the hearth and imagined puzzle pieces locking together in ways he hadn’t seen until now.
His dad’s story had turned out to be a miracle story after all. God had heard Corbin’s prayers for himself and for his father. Corbin knew exactly where his dad was now, and he was holding on to the certainty that he’d see him again one day.
His story with Willow? He knew a secret about it that he hadn’t told her yet. Their story was a miracle story, too.
