Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

‘God is still speaking!’ Unfortunately, however—for us—even though God is always trying to communicate with us, quite often, we aren’t listening. While he’s trying to tell us there’s more good news to hear, we are more concerned about other things. Even as we sit here, I bet more than a few people have been wondering what they will have for dinner tonight . . . or if the Braves will win their game this afternoon . . . or maybe their minds are on a myriad of other legitimate concerns and worries.”

Maeve smiled as she listened; Jen’s words were spot-on and she could definitely relate to being distracted when she was supposed to be paying attention—just look at how her mind had wandered when the service was beginning. With renewed resolve, she tried to stay focused on the sermon, and Jen continued to share stories and funny anecdotes about what happened to God’s servants—both biblical and in her own family—when they didn’t pay attention. She expounded on the belief that although “the faith of the church is more than two thousand years old, its thinking is not. Each generation is called to make faith their own.” And in the end, her simple but profound lesson cast light on the benefits of finding time to “be still . . . to listen . . . to let God reveal himself . . . and to know he often speaks in unexpected ways. He may speak to you through the voice of a friend or mentor . . . or if you’re paying attention when you’re out in nature—replenishing and nurturing your tired soul—he may speak to you in the swaying dance of the willows . . . or in a gentle whisper in the wind. You just have to be listening,” she said softly, and then smiled. “Amen.”

Maeve smiled, too, and murmured, “Amen.”

After the service ended, they walked down to fellowship hour, and Harper, immediately spying Rudy, towed her mom and aunt over to say hello to Cora. They all exchanged big hugs, and Harper bumped fists with Cora’s two boys, Frank, who was a six-foot-four rising sophomore and already a star basketball player on his high school’s varsity team, and Joe, who was younger than Rudy, and loved video games almost as much as his brother loved basketball. While Macey, Maeve, and Cora chatted, the two girls went over to the kids’ table for snacks and, while sipping lemonade and munching on cookies, hatched a plan and returned to test it on their moms.

“Cora, can Rudy sleep over tonight?” Harper asked, as her friend looked on hopefully.

Cora frowned. “Child, haven’t you learned you’re supposed to check with your mom first? And don’t you have school this week? Because my tribe all goes back on Tuesday . . . thank goodness!” she said, winking at Macey.

With raised eyebrows, Macey waited to hear Harper’s reply.

Harper turned to Macey. “Mom, through my friend Rudy, I heard God speaking . . . and he said Rudy should sleep over tonight.”

Macey and Cora both chuckled, impressed that Harper had been paying attention to the sermon. “Did he now?” Macey asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Harper replied solemnly.

“I guess we better listen then,” Macey said, smiling. “Rudy is more than welcome to stay over, so long as it’s okay with Miss Cora.”

Harper turned back to Cora. “Is it okay?”

Cora smiled. “Far be it from me to not listen when God is speaking,” she replied.

“Woohoo!” Harper said, embracing Rudy.

Just then, Maeve—who’d stepped away for a cup of coffee—rejoined them. “Somebody’s excited,” she said, smiling at Cora and Macey.

“Indeed,” Cora said, laughing. “Oh, to be young and sleeping over your best friend’s house.”

“Amen to that,” Maeve said, laughing.

44

“I WISH YOU HAD COME TO CHURCH WITH US THIS MORNING,” LIBBY SAID, climbing the porch steps. “Everyone would’ve loved seeing you.”

Gage was sitting in one of the chairs on the front porch with Gus at his feet. “They’ll see me tomorrow,” he replied, taking a sip of coffee while Gus thumped his tail in greeting.

Libby knelt down to stroke Gus’s soft fur, and in the bright sunlight, Gage noticed the smile creases around her eyes, and realized, suddenly, she was getting older. How had he not noticed before?

“Well, my dear boy, will you please do one thing for me?” she asked.

“Depends,” he teased, knowing from experience to never commit to an unknown.

“I would appreciate it if you would go see Dutch.”

Gage frowned. “Aren’t you bringing him to the service?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on how he is that morning. He has good days and bad days, so we’ll have to wait and see.”

Gage nodded. “Does he recognize anyone?”

“Sometimes.”

“Okay,” Gage agreed. “I’ll go see him.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You can if you’d like,” he said with a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “We’ll go after lunch.”

Gage nodded. “Do you need help with lunch?”

Libby shook her head. “I’m just going to set out the meat and cheese platter and some rolls. You kids can all make your own sandwiches . . . and there’re three different kinds of pie, too, including Mrs. Fergusson’s chocolate chess pie—have you ever had it?”

Gage looked up in surprise—he hadn’t heard the words chocolate chess pie in years, and then after he’d mentioned it to Maeve, she had decided to make one . . . but then all hell had broken loose in their lives and he’d never had a chance to try it. “I’ve only had chocolate chess pie one other time—the time Dutch took Cale and me to Nashville to see Garth Brooks.”

“Well, her pie is delicious.”

“I’ll be sure to try it,” Gage replied, and, as if on cue, three more cars pulled into the yard and Gage watched his brothers’ families clamber out—a scene that reminded him of clowns spilling out of a Volkswagen Bug. Between Matt, Eli, and Grayson, there were a total of ten Tennyson grandkids—eight boys (of course) and two girls (who could definitely hold their own); they ranged in age from ten years to ten months, and there were two more on the way (genders unknown, but they all knew the odds!). So, even though his mom would miss