and demeaning her? How could people be so sick?”
The gym was silent, the only sound a baby crying in the distance.
“But then I remembered my own sin sickness,” he said. “I remembered things I did in my past, before I knew Jesus, that hurt and demeaned people. And I remembered things I did after knowing Christ that I regretted.”
Stephanie could tell Travis was feeling this in a deep place.
He sighed. “A weekend like the one we just had puts our sin natures on blast. Like a siren, it lets us know something is wrong deep in our souls. It lets us know we are in desperate need of a Savior. And I’m going to tell you about that Savior . . .”
As Travis shared the gospel, Stephanie prayed silently that Teri and others would hear and believe. And then she started feeling jittery—one more song, and it was her turn . . .
She walked up with her notes and set them on the podium. Eyes scanning the breadth of the gym—and the news cameras—her nerves got the best of her. Lord, please help me. She looked down at her opening sentence, and it sounded stupid.
Looking out at the crowd again, she took a big breath and turned her notes facedown. She took the wireless microphone from its stand.
“I could say a lot of glowing things about Sam,” she said, “things like, she was so sweet and nice, so quiet and shy, so diligent and hardworking . . . But if you’re here, you probably already know that. So I think I’ll share who she really was. Because I found out one night.”
Stephanie walked away from the podium. “One evening when her guard was down, and she might’ve had a sugar high from too much sweet tea, Sam said, ‘You’ll never guess what I really, really want to be.’ I said, ‘If I’ll never guess, then just tell me what you really, really want to be.’ She grinned and said, ‘I’m too embarrassed to say.’ I said, ‘Sam. Say.’”
Stephanie smiled, mostly to herself, remembering the moment. “Miss Quiet-and-Shy Samara Johnston said, ‘I really, really want to be the next American Idol.’ I said, ‘Sam! I didn’t know you could sing!’ She said, ‘Because I don’t sing. At least for people.’”
The audience chuckled slightly, as did Stephanie. “I didn’t want to alarm her,” Stephanie half whispered, “but I knew at this point we had a problem.” She smiled, continuing in her regular voice. “I said gently, ‘Sam, if you want to be the next American Idol, you have to sing . . . for actual people. So here’s what we’ll do. We’ll practice on actual little people.’
“So I assembled a three-judge panel of five-year-olds”—she stopped as she walked across the floor—“I bet y’all think I’m joking. Totally true story. I told Sam she could sing any song she wanted.” She paused again. “Now, at this point, honestly, I’m thinking it’s cute she’s got this pipe dream, but I’ve watched enough singing competition auditions, complaining, ‘Come on, nobody in this child’s life told her she couldn’t sing?’ So I was already formulating ways I could nicely respond . . .”
Stephanie put a hand to her hip, shaking her head. “Y’all. She bust out with her song, and she. Could. Sing. She could actually . . . sing.”
Emotion snuck up on Stephanie, and she paused a moment.
“I think there was much more where that came from.” She swiped tears. “I think Sam had many hidden talents and dreams that would’ve come out with a little coaxing and an overdose of sweet tea.” She laughed softly as more tears came. “It’s such a gift that many of those things were revealed in the pages of her journal. But nothing in that journal impacted me like what she wrote her last night on this earth.
“It was disturbing, rambling, and poignant all at once. The first words were, ‘I hate this world. I hate my life. I hate the pain.’” Those words gripped Stephanie even now. It took her a moment to continue.
“And she said . . . she said she’d read where Jesus said, ‘My kingdom is not of this world,’ and she wanted to be part of His world, His kingdom. And it seemed like she was getting on her knees as she wrote, telling Jesus to please save her, to please let her be part of His kingdom.” She swiped some more, but stopping the tears was fruitless. “The last thing she wrote was