My Stubborn Heart

by Becky Wade

a rush of gratitude filled her chest. She’d needed a break from her rut, from her loneliness, from her job, and God had known.

It was as if something within her had been sleeping and now—the longer she was near him—the more it was waking, becoming alert, jangling. That something seemed to be saying, It’s you. Finally. I’ve been waiting. For you.

They stood watching until his truck pulled out of sight. “I told you he was a hunk,” Gran said. “You were right.”

Fall in love. Marry. Be blissful. Have babies. That had always been her plan. The fact that she was thirty-one and single left her feeling in weak moments like this one as if she’d somehow missed the train going where she’d wanted to go in life.

Loneliness, her old enemy and companion, slithered around her middle and squeezed.

Her ancestor, the one who’d built Chapel Bluff, had taken care to put that little building with the cross on top right at the heart of their property. It reminded her that this family had been founded on what was important. Every generation had carefully instilled their faith in the next, right on down to her. She’d been raised in the church, and her relationship with God was long-standing, close, and easy. He should be enough for her. She knew He was enough.

She could feel God in the night. Jesus’ words in Matthew popped into her mind. If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, nothing will be impossible for you. It was humbling to have faith tinier than a mustard seed. Kate stopped walking, sighed, and let her eyes close. I have a plan for you, God seemed to say. It would be nice, Lord, if it could include a man. Silence answered.

Kate showed up for sleep that night and found sleep absent.

I am weary, God. Give me your rest.

“I think that God has blessings He wants to give you but can’t until you let Him.”

“He never promised us that we wouldn’t suffer. But He’s too just not to redeem it. And He does promise us that He won’t leave us. That He’ll be with us through the worst. That He loves us.”

He was chewing a bite of pecan pie. She’d mostly been chewing on resentment over his looks.

Suddenly Matt groaned with frustration and raked his hands through his hair. He looked at her. Looked away. Looked back. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I’m sick of pretending I don’t love you.”

Kate’s prayer, too, He had heard and answered. Her long wait for the one was over. He’d come. And he’d been worth the wait.

It was love. Heaven sent. Perfect.