More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (26 page)

Three hours later it was time for him to go home, not that either of them wanted him to.

“So, tomorrow?” he asked, praying she didn’t have anything else to do. The past three days had been more wonderful than he could imagine three days could be.

Liz half-smiled as she looked up at him. “What are you going for the record or something?”

He wished he wasn’t holding the infernal laptop so he could take her in his arms. He considered putting it down but thought that would be too obvious. “I guess I like to live dangerously.”

A moment and she nodded. “Well, I’m going to church at seven...”

She never really finished the invitation, but he got the message.

“Then I’ll be there at seven.”

Jake sat next to her the following morning. Thankfully, this time he wasn’t late. The church was still fascinating to him. He wanted to ask someone about the statues, about the artwork— where it came from, who the artist was, when had they acquired it. It was like the stories of the whole world were opening up to him, and he had the distinct feeling it had everything to do with her. Reaching over when she sat down, he took her hand and smiled at her. Never had he been more grateful.

It was a good bit into the service when they read something he assumed was from the Bible though he’d never actually owned a Bible nor read one. The story was about a guy who had a son, and he was desperate to get the son cured. And then Jesus cured the kid. Jake glanced up at the statue of Jesus on the cross at the front. Something about the face of that man struck him. It was sad, tired, ready to give up. He understood that look though he had never been nailed to a cross.

“The faith of a mustard seed,” the preacher said when he closed the book and started just talking. “‘If you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Be thou removed and be cast into the sea’ and it will
obey
you.’ Do you hear those words? How many of us have mountains in our lives? Mountains. Problems. Obstacles. Hurdles. I’d be willing to bet all of us do. Whether it’s a sick child or a sick marriage, whether it’s what to do about your job or your schooling, whether it’s some type of addiction or someone you’re at odds with. Every one of us has a mountain standing in our way.

“You see, a mountain is anything that’s stopping us. It’s anything that we think is too big to handle on our own, and let me tell you, that can be a lot of things. For the disciples of Jesus it was this child, possessed by demons and brought by his father. The disciples tried to cast the demon out, but they couldn’t do it. Why not?

“Jesus says they didn’t have enough
faith
. Why do our mountains not move? Because we don’t have enough
faith
. How much faith do we need?” He gripped the sides of the podium and then looked across the sparse crowd. “Jesus tells us:  We need faith the size of a mustard seed. And just how big is a mustard seed? Think about putting a dot on a piece of paper. That’s the size of a mustard seed, and that’s all the faith we have to have to move our mountains.

“But how can that be, you ask. I’ve prayed. I’ve stood on the Promises of the Bible, and my mountain still hasn’t moved. Ah, but faith is not just prayer, it is not just affirming that God is. It is trusting God enough
to give the problem to Him
. Faith is calling out to God in our weakness and saying, ‘Lord, I can’t do this!  It’s too big for me. I need Your help.’

“That’s faith. That’s giving yourself and your situation over to the One Who can move mountains. You see, most of us when we’re confronted with a mountain, we get out the shovels and start digging. We get out our pick axes and go to work trying to move the mountain ourselves. Or we make maps and plans and agendas to get around the mountain. Basically, we do, do, do, do until we can’t do-do anymore.”

People in the congregation laughed.

“But all that doing, all that trying to effort ourselves through a situation is
not
what Jesus is calling us to do. He’s calling us to recognize at a fundamental level that we can’t do it. He’s calling us to see that only by falling on the Grace of God, on the Mercy of God, on the Strength of God can we ever hope to move that mountain that’s standing in our way. But! And Jesus said it, ‘If you have
that much
faith, you can say to this mountain, ‘Be thou
removed...
Get out of my life! Move out of my path, O, mountain. And God will resolve that situation with His Power in His time. So have the faith to put whatever your mountain is in His hands and watch Him go to work, and you will see miracles happen.”

Jake contemplated the pastor’s words. He had never heard anything like them before. The weak part he got. It was how he had always felt. He well remembered in school, freaking out at every new assignment, knowing he couldn’t do it, and praying it would go away. But could this be the answer? Could the answer to the mountain of his own stupidity be putting it into God’s hands? He thought about the shovel and the pick-axe and nearly laughed out loud. He had certainly tried it that way, and it hadn’t worked. As his gaze came up to the church arching above him, he thought through everything and then glanced at her. Winding his hands up under his arms, he considered it all. He didn’t know how to make things work with her any more than he knew how to get all the squiggly red lines off his laptop. Yes, the truth was he needed help— desperately. Maybe more desperately than even he had realized.

Putting his head down, he let his hands fall to the pew ahead of him, and he gripped it, holding on lest he collapse to the ground by the sheer weight of the mountain he was trying to move. The truth was, he’d tried everything else. He was ready to try something new. “God,” he whispered so softly it might have only been in his heart, “I’m so lost here. You’ve given me these amazing things— the stories and Liz, but God, I don’t know what I’m doing with either one. I need Your help. The guy said all I had to have was the faith of a mustard seed. Well, that’s about all I’ve got right now— one, little, tiny spec, but I’m going to use it right now to say, ‘Help!’ I need help, Lord. I do. I need help to move this mountain. I can’t do it alone. I’ve tried. I’m so tired of feeling like this, Lord. I’m so tired of feeling like it’s all so hopeless, like I can’t do it.”

He shook his head slowly. “I can’t, Lord. I honestly can’t, and if You don’t, I guess I’m going to be shoveling on this stupid mountain forever. Please, help me, Lord. Please.”

There was no bolt of lightning, no thundering voice from above, but peace settled over and through Jake, and when Liz knelt, so did he. He didn’t understand all of it, but that one mustard seed of faith already felt like it was changing things— inside of him if nothing else, and maybe even that would be enough.

They stopped at the little bistro on the way home to get breakfast in pita sandwiches. Liz watched him trying not to as they sat at the tiny table. Something had changed though she couldn’t quite tell what that something was. “How was church?” she finally asked, hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds— whatever those even were anymore.

Jake’s face went through five emotions before he said anything. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

He fingered the edge of his sandwich. “Do you believe all that stuff about the mountains?”

That surprised her and sent her backward. Besides the youth group where she didn’t talk much, she’d never really discussed her faith with anyone. “Yeah. I mean, I’d like to.”

Concern and confusion drifted through his eyes. “But you’ve been doing this church thing for a long time.”

Liz puzzled over the statement for a moment. “So that means I should have it all figured out then.”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

No longer eating, she thought that through. “Well, to tell you the honest truth, I feel like those disciples a lot of times. I want to have faith, I try, you know, but sometimes I’m left going, ‘God, why didn’t that work? I worked so hard, and it just flopped.’”

More confusion crossed his face. “But that’s not what he said, was it? I mean, he said the faith part is putting it in God’s hands and not trying to do it yourself. At least I think that’s what he was saying.”

She thought about that, leaned forward, and took a drink. “Maybe that’s my problem.” She sat back again, thinking it all the way through. “Maybe I’m trying to do too much myself.”

He nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“So how’s the story coming?” she asked at two when they broke for lunch. She had ditched the paper and was now just reading and taking notes on the two books. They were fascinating.

“Okay, I guess.” He scratched his ear as he closed the laptop.

She had come to know and accept that he was not going to let her read it. That much was now a given.

“Jasmine finally found the guy that lived out in the sticks, but he’s an ornery old coot. He nearly shot her too.”

“Man, she doesn’t exactly lead a quiet life, does she?” Liz went into the kitchen and found she only had Tuna Helper left in the cupboard. “How are you on tuna?”

At the door he shrugged. “Fine by me.” He went over to the cabinet and leaned on it to watch her and to help. “So how’s the book? The one you’re reading.”

“Great. It’s so interesting, you know?” She reached into the cabinet to get the tuna can, which she handed to him, and he went to work opening it. “Like, did you know that the prison system actually estimates the number of beds they need by how many kids can’t read by the third grade?”

The can slipped out of his hands and hit the counter. “No kidding?”

“Yeah, but the weird thing is some schools don’t even classify dyslexia as a learning disability. I mean, hello!  Kid’s struggling over here. Do something!”

He handed her the tuna. “But what can they do? What can a school do if they figure out a kid has this?”

“Lots of things actually, but they all cost money. That’s the problem. The schools are understaffed the way it is. Teachers aren’t given real training in how to work with kids like this, so they are just kind of pushed off into the corner, passed on to the next grade and good luck. In fact, in that other book, the guy said his first grade teacher said not to worry about that he was having trouble reading because a lot of kids have trouble learning to read in first grade.”

“Do they get it then in second?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Do they? Or does the second grade teacher think they will get it in third and on and on until no one’s really done anything about it?”

“But there’s testing now, in the schools. You have to pass to go on.”

“Ah, yes. Enter the special ed teachers. Special ed used to be for those who really, really couldn’t do it. Now, the special ed teachers are reading the tests to the kids who could do it if they could read.”

“But they can’t read, so they can’t do it.”

“But they could if they could read... obviously because they can do it if someone else reads it for them.”

“Yeah, but does it help to read it to them and pass them because they know the stuff if they don’t really have the reading skills to do it themselves?”

Liz shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know. Does it?”

It was a question she struggled with the rest of the afternoon as she read more. The stumbling block for these kids was a lack of reading skills. Most, if not all, of them could do it if they could read it, but they couldn’t do it if reading was the real issue. Which led right back to why they couldn’t read in the first place and how to teach kids who couldn’t read to do so. Jake had gone to the restroom, so the room was quiet except for the noise of the traffic outside her window. She put her head back on the couch cushions and thought through everything she had learned. It was a maze with no real answer.

Then a thought hit her. “Okay, God. I’m here. This is my faith of a mustard seed.” She felt silly even saying the words, but she pushed that away and continued, “Do this for me. Show me what I’m missing here.”

The brochure
. Her mind clicked on that image and held there. It had listed all of the services at the Literacy Center. Nothing else came, so she stood and went over to her backpack that was lying next to the wall in the dining room. Hoping it would still be in there, she picked the backpack up and stood to go back to the couch to find it. However, with one, single glance at his laptop, her whole world slammed to a stop. Her gaze narrowed on the sea of squiggly red and green lines as confusion laced with worry coursed from her head, slithering down into her heart. She stepped one small step closer and narrowed her gaze at the words.

Jasmin gav the man the tiket, hopeg he wud not notis the noch on the side.

Her breath hitched as skimming, her gaze took it all in as she fought to make sense of any of it. She heard the door open down the hall, and the sound jerked her upward and propelled her back to the couch where she plopped down. The backpack. Only then did she remember she still had it in her hand. She was looking for something in the backpack except she couldn’t remember what that something was.

“How’s it going?” Jake stopped at the back of the couch and leaned there as he brushed her shoulder with his hand.

“Oh, g-good.” Her hands shook so violently she could hardly manage the zipper. “You?”