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course, that didn’t surprise Grace. God always seemed to work with her on the offbeat—when she least expected it, in ways that were surprising, unexpected …unique.
    Oren said that was because God fit the working of His will to the clay being molded, and if there was one thing Grace was, it was unique. “You’re one of a kind, hon,” he’d say, those blue eyes shining, “and you’re all mine.”
    No, God’s answer hadn’t come quickly. But it had come. Several weeks after their fervent prayer, He had sent a call whispering first through Oren’s heart and then Grace’s. It was nothing elaborate. Just the name of a young man from church. And the urge to invite him over for dinner. But by then Grace and Oren weren’t really thinking about their request, and so each had dismissed the prodding as their own thoughts, and each let the idea slide.
    It wasn’t until a few days later, after church, when they realized what had happened. The very same young man stood up during prayer request time and shared how God had saved him from making a terrible decision.
    “I was so depressed.” Emotion choked his voice. “I felt like nobody cared, and then Mrs. Wilson called—” he directed a shining smile at the woman seated in one of the front pews—“and said God had put my name in her heart. Can you imagine that? Put my name in her heart and asked her to invite me over for coffee.”
    He told how their conversation showed him God was watching over him, but Grace only listened to bits and pieces of his happy report. Something was gnawing at her, distracting her.
    On the drive home, she started to say something about it to Oren, but he beat her to the punch.
    “You know Danny, that young man in church today?” Grace nodded.
    “Funny thing—” Oren chewed his lip as he maneuvered a sharp curve—“I almost came home that very day and asked you to invite him over for dinner.”
    Grace stared at him. At her far-from-characteristic silence, Oren glanced her way. “Grace?”
    “Oren, I almost did
exactly
that same thing.
I
thought of Danny. And I wanted to ask him for dinner.”
    Her husband pondered this, then pulled to the side of the road and shut the car off. “Are you telling me we both thought about asking that same boy over for dinner?”
    She nodded.
    “On the same day?”
    She nodded again, and they both sat back. “Well.”
    Oren reached out to take her hand. “So God answered our prayer. We just didn’t listen.”
    She bit her lip and nodded, fighting the urge to cry. “Well …”
    When Grace met Oren’s gaze, he gave her hand a gentle tug. “I guess next time maybe we’d best pay attention.”
    They’d tried. Really they had. And Grace wondered if that was part of the problem: They were trying too hard. Like watching a kettle of water and waiting for it to boil. Blasted thing
never
boiled, no matter how hard you stared. But look away for half a blink, and there it went, spitting water everywhere.
    Maybe God’s gentle whispers were like that. Focus onthem, try to make yourself hear them, and the only thing ringing through your mind and heart was a blaring silence. But let yourself get distracted by life, and bingo! There it came … that soft, unassuming nudge that was so easy to ignore.
    Just as they’d done today.
    Grace settled back in her chair as regret played tag with frustration inside her. Oren patted her hand.
    “Don’t fret, dear. We’re still learning.”
    She nodded. “If only God would be a bit more obvious.”
    Oren tipped his head at that. “Obvious?”
    She turned to face him. “You know, more …I don’t know … Godlike. I mean, He sounds so much like me …”
    Oren’s lips were twitching again. “Oh yes, dear, I’ve always thought you sounded like God.”
    She swatted at his arm. “You know what I mean. It’s easy to dismiss those little urgings because they seem like
my
thoughts.” She waved her hands. “Why, I’d
never
have dismissed the voice if it