God's Gift - By Dee Henderson Page 0,39

out on a date last night.”

“Really?”

“Lace called me shortly before midnight. She woke me up—had to tell me all about it.”

“Let me guess, a museum showing?”

“Actually, dinner with a private collector Dave had met a year ago at a conference.”

“I’m glad. They make a good couple.”

“Do you really think Dave is ready to settle down? Lace has had a crush on him for so long, she doesn’t need to get hurt by being one of a list.”

James thought about it. “He’s ready to settle down. It’s in all the little things he does, the way he looks at her, the way he talks about kids.”

“Dave being a dad. That I never expected to see.”

“What about Lace? Does she want kids?”

“Very much. I think that’s why she started dating the tax attorney—she knows her time is running out.”

James wanted to know what Rae thought about the subject of children. She was the same age as Lace, so it had to be a concern for her as well. Had she written off that dream when Leo died? It would be a shame if she had. Rae would make a good mom.

Her meal and his ice cream arrived and neither one said much as they ate.

Did this constitute a date? James wondered as Rae pushed aside her soup and salad, both only half-eaten.

“Not hungry?”

“Food doesn’t settle well anymore,” she admitted. She gave a rueful smile. “Lace will kill me if I’ve developed an ulcer.”

“Rae…”

“Don’t push, James. I’ll deal with it.”

“Do it soon,” he insisted.

“Yeah. I hate doctors.”

He smiled. “Now that I can understand.”

She realized what she had said, smiled back. “I bet you do.”

She glanced at her watch and sighed. “I’ve got to go. Work is waiting.”

James knew ignoring the work was simply an option Rae didn’t have. “Rae, remember to pace yourself, okay?”

“I’m trying. Honestly.”

He walked back with her to the kennel and to her car. He said goodbye with surprising reluctance.

It was a quiet spot, a bench in a local park that could look down on a ball field or over to a small playground, a place to pause and rest during a walk. James sat down, physically needing the break. He was trying—trying too hard—to exercise enough to keep his body improving, but not too much to cause more damage.

The recuperation was slow at best.

He sat down and carefully stretched his legs out.

God, I don’t understand.

I loved Africa. I loved serving people, building clinics, saving children’s lives. Now Father, here, I don’t have a purpose. I don’t even know where to begin.

I don’t understand why You ended such a long ministry in such an abrupt way. Why not some warning? Why not a sense that maybe I should start thinking about coming back to the States? Why so abrupt? One day I’m fine, the next week I’m in so much pain I can barely move. I feel like You abandoned who I was and what I was doing. You didn’t give me closure, Lord, You just took the ministry away.

What am I supposed to do in the States?

If You’ve taken away my ability to hold a hammer and saw, You’ve pretty much taken away who I am.

You have thousands of good architects here, Lord, thousands of good builders. Why take away a ministry that was doing some good for people?

I don’t understand.

All my life, even through the rough times, I have known You had a plan. For the first time, here, now, it feels like You’ve forgotten me.

The sun woke him Saturday morning, the light streaming into the bedroom and making him blink as he tried to read the time.

He moved cautiously to pull over a pillow, take the strain off his neck. His joints were stiff, his spine taut, but the burning pain was not as severe. James had begun to dread the first hour after he woke up, he was grateful that today was not as bad as the other mornings had been this last week. Time and rest were beginning to ease the symptoms.

If he was staying in the States, what did he want?

It had taken days to shake off the anger, the frustration of the situation and face the reality.

If he was staying in the States, what did he want to do?

It was time to accept reality and go on.

If he was building a new life in the States, then it was time to do it and quit wishing for what was not going to happen. Returning to Africa was not in his future.

He lay in