Faith

Chapter Eleven

2 Thessalonians 3:3 (NIV) -- But the Lord is faithful, and He will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one.

After the short, dragged-on, I eagerly walked outside to go home. The brisk cool wind hit me and I shivered. I can't wait for the sunny days to come. I rubbed my arms to warm them but winced when I pressed too hard. As I left school grounds, I checked my phone. There were text messages from three people: Ryan, Sam, and my dad.

I checked the one from Dad first. It read: Kaitlyn, I would like you to go to the church dinner tonight. I shook my head with a sigh and sent a negative answer back.

Then I opened Ryan's message. Hey babe, we need to find time to talk. Can I come over? I smiled. I love talking to Ryan, and I feel like I need that right now. I replied to Ryan with: Yes! Dad won't be at home tonight.

I was too nervous to see Sam's message, so instead I put my phone back into my pocket. When I walked by the middle school building, a small group of younger girls giggled in a circle. They gossiping about the newest clothes and the cutest boys. When a boy walked around them, they all stared before giggling again.

I smiled at the palpable innocence in the little girls. I could remember when Ryan and I acted like that at the stuffy Christian school, gossiping with fake friends about forgettable boys.

At home, Dad waited for me, like I expected him to do. "Kaitlyn," he asked. "Why won't you go to the church dinner? All you do is have to sit there and eat."

"Dad, everyone there talks about God. I can't listen to that community anymore.

He sighed. "I just thought a church dinner would be a step closer to Him. I'm not asking much."

A puddle of guilt formed in my stomach, but I am not ready for anything God-related. Even when Sam mentioned Him, my stomach turned and twisted. I always thought about my mom when God is mentioned. "Dad, it's more complicated than you understand."

He hesitantly nodded, and then picked up his coat to leave. Remembering the bruises, I rushed upstairs to cover them with foundation. I'm a master at it now. Once the bruises were covered, I headed back downstairs.

I sat my bag down next to the couch and pulled out a notebook from my bag. Whenever I don't have homework, I get to do my favorite thing: write.

This notebook is filled with poems from even before my mother was diagnosed with cancer. As I flipped through the pages, memories and feelings filled my mind. It inspired a great idea.

Pages of memories frozen in time......

★★★★

I was in the middle of my third poem when a knock sounded, interrupting my flow of words. "Who could that possibly be?" I wondered as I sat down my notebook to get up. The pages were left open.

Then I remembered that Ryan wanted to come over. I opened the door and started to say, "Ryan you could have just walked..." I didn't finish my sentence.

It was Sam standing outside the door, not Ryan. He raised his eyebrow and smiled. It was brief, but still there.

"I'm not Ryan, but can I come in?"

"Why are you here?" I wondered out loud.

"Well, we have to start on the English paper sometime. The last two class periods had no work done what so ever."

I really have no choice because he is right. The project will have to be done. "Okay, come in," I said with reluctance.

Sam noticed this and said, "We can focus on me, Kaitlyn. I know you won't want to talk." I smiled and nodded gratefully.

We headed towards the couch, and I slid the notebook off. It landed upside down so Sam couldn't read it. Then the two of us sat down. I put my legs up on the couch, hugged them, and leaned into the plush fabric. My comfort pose.

Sam and I sat in silence for a while before he cleared his throat. "So," he drawled in his cute Southern drawl. "How was your day?" I shot him a look. "What? We had to start talking somehow."

"Okay good. We started talking. Now let's hear your life story."

"I don't know how to start" Sam muttered. "I just can't come out with it."

"Yeah you can."

At first, he seemed like he would never start. But then his mouth opened and words came tumbling out. "You aren't the only one who has been hurt by someone you love." My jaw dropped. "This event also happened with the death of my biological mom when I was four. She was in the wrong spot at the wrong time. The day of her death, she happened to walk by an alley where a gang fought. A bullet ricocheted and entered her head next to her eye. She bled out on the sidewalk."

Sam's head dropped a little and I released my legs to face him on the couch. "After her murder, Dad started drinking more and more. Most of the money he had went to alcohol so we barely ate. My only meal some days came from school." Sam stopped talking and I saw his lip tremble. I think my heart cracked.

I scooted right over to him and grabbed his hand with a squeeze. He squeezed back. "You don't have to continue. I understand."

"I need to. Our grade requires it, and I want to share my story." Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I can still remember the first night like it was yesterday. I was only seven years old, left in my dark house all night when Dad came home. His breath reeked of alcohol."

"My dad yelled out my name and I came running. But I was so scared I tripped and went flying. My head smacked the ground, and my nose started to bleed. Mad, my dad was cursing up a storm. When I tried to apologize, he smacked me. I felt dizzy. Stars appeared in my vision."

"After that, he wouldn't stop cursing, yelling, and punching for about five minutes. Since I was little, all I could do was lay on the ground and cover my head. The whole time I did nothing but pray."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at me. "I started to feel like you do. My father would beat me up every other night, and I prayed every night for Him to take me away. He never did. I slowly became more bitter. But then, after an especially tough beating at eight years old, I prayed extra hard."

"My prayers were finally answered. It turns out the school had been keeping notes on me. The next morning, when I went to school with bruised legs and arms, the school called the authorities. Cops and the community pastor showed up at my house."

Sam smiled now. "I still remember the first words the pastor said. He told me that he had been praying to the Lord for a son of his own for a long time. 'My wife and I can't have children, but we finally have you.' That's when I knew God listened to not only me but to my new father.

I looked at Sam with a shocked expression. "How can you be cheerful with a past like that?"

"Because of Him. I know He is there for me, listens to me, and protects me. My old dad is gone, and I get an amazing new one that I'm lucky to have."

As we sat there, with Sam smiling and my jaw dropped, I started to think. What if everything I have been thinking about God is completely false? Maybe, a year ago, it wasn't the right time for a miracle, and He was saving it for later.

Sam saw my expression and said, "I bet I have you thinking now, don't I?" All I could do is nod. "See, Kaitlyn, He doesn't try hurt people. He will always come through, always be there for His followers."

I could only stay quiet. I have this wonderful story of hope and faith in my hands to write about. A story that made me think. A story that belonged to a person who already changed.

A/N: so I feel like this is a really deep chapter.... It might also be a chapter that will scare people off because of the religious talk. Please don't be scared away by the talk I won't have it appear that often. It is just really important to the plot. << Transformation in Carrington. I totally don't shy away from talking about my ever-growing faith.

And now all "Faith" readers know Sam's story! He was hurt as a little kid, but now he is happy and wants to help people. It just gives him a purpose to be who he is.

♥ Carrington