“You’re making this up.”
“Totally not. I saw it on the internet.” She winked. “But seriously, he said nasty things like ... ‘you’re not safe.’ Or ‘you’re ugly.’ ‘Bad things are going to happen to you.’”
“Your life is going to implode and you’ll lose everything you love?” She’d sort of meant it as a joke, but ... yeah.
Kennedy drew in a breath. “Yeah. Things fear would say, I guess.”
“Mm.” Harley took another sip.
“Then he froze the bottles and looked at the water under a microscope. All the crystals from the tortured bottle were misshapen, chaotic, and cluttered. Ugly. But...” She ran her hand over her Bible. “The loved bottle was filled with beautiful crystals, perfectly formed.”
“Huh.”
“Right? So, I don’t know. I got this idea that whenever fear and even grief told me that I’ll never be okay, that we’ll never have another child, that I’ve lost everything, I’d read a psalm. And especially the ones where David says that God loves us. That he doesn’t abandon us. That he has a good plan for our lives. That’s hope.”
Kennedy took a sip of her hot cocoa. “Our bodies are sixty percent water. Seems that it would make sense to speak hope and light into them.”
Harley stared into the fire. Traced the mug’s rim. “I ran out of hope a long time ago, I think.”
Kennedy cocked her head. “No, you didn’t. You had just enough left to come back here. To work with Jericho. And for his dog to sniff out hope in you. I think that’s why he’s drawn to you. And I think that’s why Jericho is too. Because although he’s a protector, you’re abeliever. You act because you believe in something good ... and that’shope.”
“Problem is, I seem to drag other people into danger with me.”
“Oh please, really?” She leaned forward. “Jericho follows you because he wants to, Harley. He has choices—and sure, it’s his overactive protective gene that gets him into trouble, but it’s not just you. Hello, he’s a rescuer. So, don’t let that lie trap you.”
She glanced down at the Bernie. His tail thumped.
“Did you know that the Bible says ‘do not fear’ or ‘do not be afraid’ more times than any other command? Three hundred and sixty-five times, actually.” Kennedy palmed the Bible. “Because God knows it’s our default. Fight or flight. The problem is, neither of those actions solve the problem, do they?”
Huh.
“You’re a fighter, aren’t you?”
“Sometimes. Maybe. Probably. Someone has to be.”
Kennedy raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t mean it like ... I mean, the world is full of heroes. I always wanted to be like my dad. Bringing justice. Keeping people safe.”
“Life isn’t safe, Harley. And God knows this. That’s why he tells us his perfect love drives out fear. And God’s love for us? That’s the only perfect thing in this broken world. We don’t have to fight for ourselves. God is big enough to protect us.”
“You really believe that? After everything?”
“Yes. And that’s what I keep reminding myself.” But Kennedy’s voice cracked. “Faith isn’t the absence of darkness. It’s choosing to believe in God’s love, his happy ending, even when we can’t see it.”
“I always dreamed”—the words slipped out before she could catch them—“back then, I mean, that Jericho and I...” She pressed her lips together.
“Would find your way to each other?” Kennedy set her mug aside. “Maybe you weren’t ready then. Maybe God knew you both needed to walk through fire first. To learn that safety isn’t found in running or fighting. It’s found in surrender.”
“Surrender to what?”
“To love. To faith. To the possibility that God’s plan might be better than you can imagine.”
Orlando’s head lifted, ears swiveling toward the stairs. Footsteps creaked overhead. Kennedy heard it. “My husband, looking for me, probably. He’s struggling too, even if he doesn’t show it.” She got up.
Harley too. She followed Kennedy to the kitchen, put her mug in the sink. “Kennedy? Thank you. For...”
“Being awake at stupid o’clock?” Kennedy’s laugh held warmth. “Yeah. That’s what family does. At least, the Bowie family.”