thinking about it, my arms crossed my stomach in a huff. “And how many times do I have to forgive her? She does a lot of stuff.”
“How many times have I had to forgive you?”
“Well, that’s harsh. You know, you didn’t have to go there.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not asking you to do anything I don’t do.”
“You are the Messiah. I think it’s probably a little easier for you.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Being tortured and hung on a cross?”
“Never mind. I should’ve known better than to argue with you. You are always right.”
“True.”
“I get the point.”
“And what point is that?” he asked.
“I have to be nice to the girl.”
“And?”
“For-f-f … ”
“Spit it out.”
“Forgive her.” I threw myself back against the chair in a fit. “I thought I’d learned this lesson already—with the whole nightmares thing.”
“Forgiveness is one of the hardest crosses to bear. You have to pick it up every day and walk it out because as soon as you think you’ve mastered it, something else happens and you’re right back where you started off.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’ve saved the best for last.”
“There’s more? I don’t think I can contain my excitement,” I mumbled.
“Do you even have a filter between your brain and mouth, or do you just say everything that comes to mind?”
“I say everything. Talk to the Father—he didn’t give me a filter.”
“Oh, he gave you one all right; you just don’t choose to use it. But we’ll save that conversation for another night.”
“Thank God … or you. Whatever. Go on.”
“You need to pray for her.”
“For whom?”
“Whom do you think?”
“It’s not enough that I’ve got to forgive her? Now I’ve got to pray for her too?” The blood surging through my veins was practically at its boiling point.
“Yes.”
I plopped my elbows on the desk and buried my head in my hands. “This just gets more and more painful by the minute.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Really?”
“No.”
I frowned and then buried my face again. “Fine, I’ll pray for her.”
“Real prayers, Attie, not fake ones. Real prayers, just like the ones you do for your dad.”
“All right.”
“And I want you to hang that piece of paper on your bathroom mirror, and every morning while you’re getting ready, I want you to read it out loud.”
“For how long?”
“Until you’ve mastered it.”
“Forever then.” I sprung out of the chair and across the room. “You’re basically saying it’ll be there forever.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
I flung open the door and stomped toward the bathroom to wash my face.
Riley peeked his head out of his room. “What was all that yelling about?”
“I just got my butt handed to me by the Lord.”
“I figured you would. I told you not to say yada, yada, yada.”
“Shut it, Riley!”
I heard him laugh as I slammed the door behind me.
chapter 7
Marme stood in front of the stove stirring up one of her wonderful dinner concoctions. The house smelled like roasted garlic, and my stomach was already growling in order to make sure I knew it was past our usual dinnertime. Marme was a planner, and even my stomach had learned her schedule, but school being back in session meant we were on a new routine. Riley had football and I had cheer practice every day, and then I also had class at the university on Tuesdays and Thursdays starting next week, so dinner was officially pushed back to seven thirty on all weekdays but Wednesday due to church. With four people and four active lives, life was going to get confusing, and my stomach and I would have to get used to the new routine.
I stepped toward the sink to grab a tomato and practically trampled Baby. She too was unsettled with the changes and hadn’t left my side since I’d been home. She’d settled with me seeing as how Riley hadn’t made it through the front door yet. Baby didn’t seem to
“How many times have I had to forgive you?”
“Well, that’s harsh. You know, you didn’t have to go there.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not asking you to do anything I don’t do.”
“You are the Messiah. I think it’s probably a little easier for you.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Being tortured and hung on a cross?”
“Never mind. I should’ve known better than to argue with you. You are always right.”
“True.”
“I get the point.”
“And what point is that?” he asked.
“I have to be nice to the girl.”
“And?”
“For-f-f … ”
“Spit it out.”
“Forgive her.” I threw myself back against the chair in a fit. “I thought I’d learned this lesson already—with the whole nightmares thing.”
“Forgiveness is one of the hardest crosses to bear. You have to pick it up every day and walk it out because as soon as you think you’ve mastered it, something else happens and you’re right back where you started off.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’ve saved the best for last.”
“There’s more? I don’t think I can contain my excitement,” I mumbled.
“Do you even have a filter between your brain and mouth, or do you just say everything that comes to mind?”
“I say everything. Talk to the Father—he didn’t give me a filter.”
“Oh, he gave you one all right; you just don’t choose to use it. But we’ll save that conversation for another night.”
“Thank God … or you. Whatever. Go on.”
“You need to pray for her.”
“For whom?”
“Whom do you think?”
“It’s not enough that I’ve got to forgive her? Now I’ve got to pray for her too?” The blood surging through my veins was practically at its boiling point.
“Yes.”
I plopped my elbows on the desk and buried my head in my hands. “This just gets more and more painful by the minute.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “Really?”
“No.”
I frowned and then buried my face again. “Fine, I’ll pray for her.”
“Real prayers, Attie, not fake ones. Real prayers, just like the ones you do for your dad.”
“All right.”
“And I want you to hang that piece of paper on your bathroom mirror, and every morning while you’re getting ready, I want you to read it out loud.”
“For how long?”
“Until you’ve mastered it.”
“Forever then.” I sprung out of the chair and across the room. “You’re basically saying it’ll be there forever.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
I flung open the door and stomped toward the bathroom to wash my face.
Riley peeked his head out of his room. “What was all that yelling about?”
“I just got my butt handed to me by the Lord.”
“I figured you would. I told you not to say yada, yada, yada.”
“Shut it, Riley!”
I heard him laugh as I slammed the door behind me.
chapter 7
Marme stood in front of the stove stirring up one of her wonderful dinner concoctions. The house smelled like roasted garlic, and my stomach was already growling in order to make sure I knew it was past our usual dinnertime. Marme was a planner, and even my stomach had learned her schedule, but school being back in session meant we were on a new routine. Riley had football and I had cheer practice every day, and then I also had class at the university on Tuesdays and Thursdays starting next week, so dinner was officially pushed back to seven thirty on all weekdays but Wednesday due to church. With four people and four active lives, life was going to get confusing, and my stomach and I would have to get used to the new routine.
I stepped toward the sink to grab a tomato and practically trampled Baby. She too was unsettled with the changes and hadn’t left my side since I’d been home. She’d settled with me seeing as how Riley hadn’t made it through the front door yet. Baby didn’t seem to
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