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“I’m sorry to hear that.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re in the right place, though.”
“Am I?” I question. “I don’t know much about faith. It’s not something I’ve ever had a whole lot of.”
“Seems to me you’re searching for something, though.”
Since words fail me at the moment, I simply nod.
“Then, like I said, you’re in the right place.” He falls silent, so I close my eyes again.
Lord, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know how to be. But, please help her. Please save her.
“She taught me about God. About faith. But I still feel so lost,” I finally say. “I don’t even know how to pray.”
“There’s really not much to it,” he says. “As humans, we are constantly seeking rituals or think there is some special way we have to come to God. When He only cares that we seek Him with an open heart.”
“That sounds too easy.”
He chuckles softly. “It can be. But setting aside our demands and simply trusting in Him can also be one of the most difficult things we do.”
“I need her to survive,” I manage.
“You want her to survive,” he says. “You need nothing more than what you already have.”
“And what is that?” I ask, tone sharper than I meant it.
But it doesn’t seem to bother him in the least as he meets my gaze. “Your faith in Him. In His plan.”
“And if His plan is that she dies?” I choke out, barely able to form the words.
The man looks at me, his expression soft and understanding. “Then you know that she is safe in His arms and He has something else in mind for you.”
Those words sink in, cutting me to the bone, and I shut my eyes against the onslaught of tears.
“You’re a soldier, right?” he asks. “You have that look about you,” he adds when I glance over at him. “As a soldier, you fight with your fists. But right here, right now, those are not the right weapons. There’s a reason we’re told to put on the armor of God. There is nothing stronger, my friend. Not a single thing in this world, no attack from the enemy, is stronger than the God we serve.”
“I’m trying.”
“I can see that.”
Straightening in my seat, I stare at the cross.
Will she die?
Why bring her to me, then? Why let me finally fall in love, only to lose it?
Faith. Have faith.
“Thank you,” I tell the man next to me, then hold out my hand. “I’m Maverick.”
The man takes my offered hand, grip firm as he softly shakes it. “Samuel.”
“Samuel,” I repeat his name, Sadie’s words from last week echoing in my mind.
“The man told me his name was Samuel and that I needed to keep my faith because God has a plan for me.”
Samuel releases my hand and smiles as he stands.
“Samuel,” I say again. “Are you—how is this possible?”
