Child of Grace (Love Inspired) by Irene Hannon Page B

happen to us…no matter how alone or lost we feel…the Lord is always nearby, His hand outstretched, waiting to save us if we but ask. Waiting to banish our fears. So be not afraid. Go to Him in your need, and He will never fail you.”
    The organist played the introduction to Carlos’s favorite hymn, “Amazing Grace,” and Luke opened his hymnal. No matter the danger, no matter the risk, the young medic had never been afraid.
    “The Lord called me to this work,” he’d once confided as they’d shared a meal during a rare quiet interlude, when Luke had asked about his steady calmness under fire. “This is where I belong. And if He calls me home while I’m here…” The man had shrugged. “His will be done.”
    “But what about all your plans?” Luke had pressed. “Being a paramedic, having a family of your own, the youth center….”
    Carlos had just smiled. “The Lord’s plans trump mine any day.” And then he’d snatched Luke’s cookie off his tray and popped it in his mouth with a grin, lightening the serious mood.
    The man’s joy, his trust, his confidence, had infused Luke’s heart with new fervor for the Lord. And had banished many of his own fears—and regrets.
    But not all of them.
    Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Luke dropped out of the song. He felt Hannah send him a questioning glance, but he ignored her as he struggled to rein in his emotions.
    Funny. In the field, he’d had no trouble keeping an iron grip on his feelings. There, it had been a matter of survival. As it was, every young life lost had ripped at his gut. Had he given in fully to the pain, he wouldn’t have been able to function.
    Now, back in safe territory, his emotions were straining at the tight leash he’d kept them on for years. Especially his feelings about Carlos.
    The man who had saved his life.
    Carlos had never agreed with him on that point, always countering by saying he hadn’t known there was a sniper on the roof when he’d tugged Luke back into the shelter of the mud hut where they’d taken refuge. He’d just wanted to ask his advice about one of the wounded soldiers he was treating. You should thank God, not me, he’d later told Luke. It was His hand, not a human one, that saved you.
    All Luke knew was that the next man out of the hut had taken a fatal bullet in the brain.
    Three weeks later, Carlos, too, had died.
    The young medic’s final words echoed in his mind. Let not your heart be troubled.
    Good advice. But hard to follow.
    And Luke had a strong suspicion his neighbor, seated a dozen pews in front of him—her blond hair spotlighted by a shaft of morning light radiating through the stained glass window in the sanctuary—felt the same way.
    “Hey.”
    At the whispered word, he looked over at Hannah.
    “You okay?”
    He nodded and picked up the melody as they came to one of his favorite lines. “T’was grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home.”
    Give me that grace, Lord. And please give it to Kelsey, too.
     
     
    Kelsey saw Luke and Hannah as soon as she exited the church. They were off to one side of the lawn, chatting with Reverend Howard.
    Her step faltered, causing the man on her heels to run into her.
    With a mumbled apology, she moved out of the line of traffic, keeping her neighbor and his sister in sight.
    Since parting from the two of them on the beach yesterday morning, their paths hadn’t crossed. But she’d heard their laughter on the deck last night. Smelled the aroma of barbecue as she’d prepared her solitary meal and placed her weekly call to her sister. Seen the flicker of candlelight on their patio table as she’d eaten her baked chicken breast on the screened porch and paged through the latest issue of Quilting Arts .
    It was her typical Saturday night ritual. And it suited her fine.
    Or it had, until last night.
    For the first time since coming to Michigan and moving into the cozy, memory-filled house that still seemed infused with