Tracie Peterson by Tidings of Peace

“How can you just tell me something like that?”
    “Because it’s how I feel and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you, you might leave before I get another chance.” She trembled at his touch and leaned forward ever so slightly. She knew he would kiss her and she wanted nothing more.
    He stroked her cheek, then moved to touch her hair before putting his hand to the back of her neck. Pulling her to him, David kissed her slowly, gently. Rachel felt her heart beating so rapidly that it nearly took away her breath. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and when the kiss ended, she merely rested her head against his shoulder. She loved him. Pure and simple.
    Except it wasn’t so simple. She pulled away and drew a deep breath. “My only problem is that you don’t walk with God. I can’t consider marriage to someone who isn’t a Christian.”
    “Marriage?” he said, his voice cracking. “You’d marry me?”
    She shook her head. “Not unless we felt the same way about God. I can deal with anything else—your anger at the Japanese, your past—but your future has to be His or I can’t be a part of it. And,” she added, knowing that it must be said, “you can’t do it just to marry me. It has to be a choice from your heart. I’ll know the difference.”
    He looked at her for a moment, then reached out to touch her face again. “You’d really want a life with a cripple like me?”
    “You’re only as crippled as you want to be, David.”
    There was no time for anything else to be said. Helen burst into the car, her long hair dancing in curls around her shoulders and down her back.
    “We’re here!” Helen declared, sliding into the middle of the front seat. “Fear not!” she declared, spreading her arms wide. This had become her well-known opening line for the play.
    The rest of the family piled into the old Model A Ford, laughing at the icy rain and the gaiety of the evening. No one, save perhaps Ruth, had any idea what had transpired between Rachel and David. Rachel wouldn’t have been at all surprised had her mother known her exact intentions, but if she did, she’d said nothing to Rachel on the matter. Rachel appreciated the fact that her mother trusted her judgment. And why shouldn’t she? It was Ruth and Marion’s good upbringing that had given Rachel a strong foundation of faith. She’d never let that go.
    “The Christmas play is the event of the season,” Ruth told David. “We always have such fun. The kids put on the play and the church has refreshments. Oh, speaking of which,” Ruth said, glancing around her, “I forgot the cookies.”
    “No, you didn’t,” Marion announced, pointing to Grandpa Bennett, who was wedging himself into the seat beside Rachel. “Pop has them.”
    Ruth sighed and eased back into the seat. “Thanks, Pop.”
    “Don’t tear my costume!” Helen declared to her father. She found herself snuggled in between her father and mother in the front, fighting hard to keep her white gown from being wrinkled and caught up as her father shifted gears.
    The single wiper cleared away the icy rain while the engine chugged faithfully along, compliments of Marion and Bob’s ingenuity.
    “We should sing!” Ruth declared, and before anyone could comment, she began a rousing chorus of “Jingle Bells.”
    Helen joined in, as did Grandpa and Marion. Rachel sang quietly,but it wasn’t heartfelt. She held a deep gladness for the season in spite of Kenny’s absence, but her mind continued with a preoccupation of David. Had she said too much? Would he turn away from her now? She prayed the evening might be pleasant for him in spite of her declaration. Don’t let it be too tiring for him, Lord .
    He’d just gone to the doctor the day before, and while the doctor had prescribed more medication, she knew David dealt daily with pain. Pain could be quite exhausting—Rachel knew that very well.
    “Here we are,” Marion said, pulling the Ford up to the front steps of the church.