OTHER LIFE-CHANGING BOOKS BY KAREN
KINGSBURY Gideon's Gift (a Christmas novella) Haay to Forever On Every Side A 
Time to Dance When Joy Came to Stay A Moment of Weakness Waiting for Morning 
Where Yesterday Lives With Gary Smalley, The Redemption Series Redemption 
Remember Web page: www.karenKingsbury.com Copyright 2002 by Karen Kingsbury. 
Published by Westbow Press, a Division of Thomas Nelson, Inc., P.o.
Box 141000, Nashville, Tennessee 37214, in association with the literary agency 
of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, 
Colorado
80920. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in 
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, 
mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other-except for brief quotations in 
printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Scripture 
quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version (ntv). 
Copyright c1973, 1978,
1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible 
Publishers. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents 
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. 
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kingsbury, Karen. A time to 
embrace still by Karen Kingsbury. people. cm. ISBN 0-8499-4347-7
1. Coaches (athletics)-Fiction. 2.
School sports-Fiction. I. Title.
PS3561 .14873 T57 2002
813'.ed-dc2l 2002009298 Printed in the United States ofAmerica 0405PHX109
DEDICATED TO... My husband, in honor of his fourteen years as a varsity 
basketball coach. You have suffered much this past season, but always you held 
your head high and believed. "God has a plan," you would say, leaving me and 
everyone else awestruck at your faithfulness. Without a doubt you are the most 
honest, most loyal man I've ever known. How blessed I am to be your wife ... 
truly. Your character stands as a shining beacon for all who have had the 
privilege of even the briefest contact with you. Yes, my love, God has a plan. 
And one day in the not so distant future, the name Coach will ring once more, 
and you'll wear the whistle again.
I have two prayers for you. First, that we savor every
1 minute of this season of rest. For the basketball program's loss is most 
certainly our gain. And second, that the loving legacy of your coaching days 
will change forever the lives of those boys who called you Coach.
Kelsey, my precious little teenager, whose heart is so close to my own. I watch 
you on the soccer field, giving everything you've got, and I am grateful for the 
young woman you're becoming. Nothing pushes you around, sweetheart. Not boys or 
friends or the trends of the day. Instead you stand at the front of the pack, a 
one-in-a-million sweetheart with a future so bright it shines. Wasn't it just 
yesterday when you were teetering across our kitchen floor, trying to give your 
pacifier to the cat so he wouldn't be lonely? I can hear the ticking of time, my 
daughter. The clock moves faster every year ... but believe me, I'm savoring 
every minute. I am blessed beyond words for the joy of being your mother.
Tyler, my strong and determined oldest son. Since the day you could walk, you 
wanted to entertain us. Singing, dancing, doing silly tricks. Whatever it took 
to make us laugh. And now here you are, tall and handsome, writing books, and 
learning to sing and play the piano, putting together dramas in a way that 
glorifies our Lord. All that and you're only ten years old! I've always believed 
God has a special plan for your life, Tyler, and I believe it more all the time. 
Keep listening for His lead, son. That way the dance will always be just what He 
wants it to be.
Sean, my tender boy. I knew when we brought you home from Haiti that you loved 
God. But it wasn't until I saw your eyes fill with tears during
A TIME TO EMBRACE worship time that I realized how very much you loved Him. 
"What's wrong, Sean?" I would whisper to you. But you would only shake your 
head, "Nothing, Mom. I just love Jesus so much." I pray you always hold that 
special love in your heart, and that you allow God to guide you to all the 
glorious plans He has for you.
Joshua, my can-do child. From the moment I met you I knew you were special, set 
apart from the other kids at the orphanage. Now that you've been home a year I 
can see that all the more clearly. God has placed within you a root of 
determination stronger than any I've seen. Whether you're drawing or writing, 
coloring or singing, playing basketball or soccer, you steel your mind to be the 
best, and then you
2 do just that. I couldn't be prouder of the strides you've made, son. Always 
remember where your talent comes from, Joshua ... and use it to glorify Him.
EJ, our chosen son. Yours was the first face we saw on the Internet photolisting 
that day when we first considered adopting from Haiti. Since then I've been 
convinced of one thing: God brought you into our lives. Sometimes I think maybe 
you'll be a doctor or a lawyer, or maybe the president of a company. Because the 
things God has done in the one year since you've been home are so amazing, 
nothing would surprise me. Keep your eyes on Jesus, son. Your hope will always 
only be found there.
Austin (Mj), my miracle boy, my precious heart. Is it possible you are already 
five? A big strapping boy who no longer sees the need for a nap, and who has 
just one more year home with me before starting school? I love being your mommy, 
Austin. I love when you bring me dandelions in the middle of the day or wrap 
your chubby arms around my neck and smother my face in kisses. I love playing 
give-and-go with you every morning. And wearing my Burger King crown so I can be 
the Kings and you can be the Bulls in our living room one-on-one battles. What 
joy you bring me, my littlest son. You call yourself MJ because you wanna be 
like Michael Jordan, and truly, I don't doubt that you will be one day. But when 
I see you, I'll always remember how close we came to losing you. And how 
grateful I am that God gave you back to us.
And to God Almighty, the Author of life, who has, for now, blessed me with 
these. THE KID MADE COACH JOHN REYNOLDS NERVOUS.
He was tall and gangly, and he'd been doodling on his notebook since sixth 
period health class began. Now the hour was almost up, and John could see what 
the boy was drawing. A skull and crossbones. The design was similar to the one 
stenciled on the kid's black T-shirt. Similar, also, to the patch sewn on his 
baggy dark jeans. His hair was dyed jet black and he wore spiked black leather 
collars around his neck and wrists. There was no question Nathan Pike was 
fascinated with darkness. He was a gothic, one of a handful of kids at Marion 
High School who followed a cultic adherence to the things of doom. That wasn't 
what bothered John. What bothered him was a little something the boy had 
scribbled beneath the dark symbolism. One of the words looked like it read 
death. John couldn't quite make it out from the front of the classroom, so he 
paced. Like he did
3 every Friday night along the stadium sidelines as the school's varsity 
football coach, John wandered up and down the rows iv
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE of students checking their work, handing out bits of 
instruction or critique where it was needed.
As he made his way toward Nathan's desk, he glanced at the boy's notebook again. 
The words scribbled there made John's blood run cold. Was Nathan serious? These 
days John could do nothing but assume the student meant what he'd written. John 
squinted, just to make sure he'd read the words correctly. He had.
Beneath the skull and crossbones, Nathan had written this sentiment: Death to 
jocks.
John was still staring when Nathan looked up and their eyes met. The boy's were 
icy and dead, unblinking. Intended to intimidate. Nathan was probably used to 
people taking one glance and looking away, but John had spent his career around 
kids like Nathan. Instead of turning, he hesitated, using his eyes to tell 
Nathan what he could not possibly say at that moment. That the boy was lost, 
that he was a follower, that the things he'd drawn and the words he'd written 
were not appropriate and would not be tolerated.
But most important, John hoped his eyes conveyed that he was there for Nathan 
Pike. The same way he had been there for others like him, the way he would 
always be there for his students. Nathan looked away first, shifting his eyes 
back to his notebook. John tried to still his racing heart. Doing his best to 
look unaffected, he returned to the front of the classroom. His students had 
another ten minutes of seatwork before he would resume his lecture. He sat down 
at his desk, picked up a pen, and grabbed the closest notepad. Death to jocks?
Obviously he would have to report what he'd seen to the administration, but as a 
teacher, what was he supposed to do with that? What if Nathan was serious?
Ever since the shooting tragedies at a handful of schools around the country, 
most districts had instituted a "red-flag" plan of some sort. 2 KAREN KINGSBURY 
Us Marion High School was no exception. The plan had every teacher and employee 
keeping an eye on the classrooms in their care. If any student or situation 
seemed troublesome or unusual, the teacher or employee was supposed to make a 
report immediately. Meetings were held once a month to discuss which students 
might be slipping through
4 the cracks. The telltale signs were obvious: a student bullied by others, 
despondent, dejected, outcast, angry, or fascinated with death. And particularly 
students who made threats of violence. Nathan Pike qualified in every category. 
But then, so did 5 percent of the school's enrollment. Without a specific bit of 
evidence, there wasn't much a teacher or administrator could do. The handbook on 
troubled kids advised teachers to ease the teasing or involve students in school 
life. "Talk to them, find out more about them, ask about their hobbies and 
pastimes," the principal had told John and the other faculty when they discussed 
the handbook. "Perhaps even recommend them for counseling." That was all fine 
and good. The problem was, boys like Nathan Pike didn't always advertise their 
plans. Nathan was a senior. John remembered when Nathan first came to Marion 
High. His freshman and sophomore years Nathan had worn conservative clothes and 
kept to himself. The change in his image didn't happen until last year. The same 
year the Marion High Eagles won their second state football championship. John 
cast a quick glance at Nathan. The boy was doodling again. He doesn't know I saw 
the notebook. Otherwise wouldn't he have sat back in his chair, covered the 
skull and crossbones, and hidden the horrible words? This wasn't the first time 
John had suspected Nathan might be a problem. Given the boy's changed image, 
John had kept a close eye on him since the school year began. He strolled by 
Nathan's desk at least once each day and made a point of calling on him, talking 
to him, or locking eyes with him throughout the hour. John suspected a deep 3
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE anger burned in the boy's heart, but today was the first 
time there'd ever been proof.
John remained still but allowed his gaze to rove around the room. What was 
different about today? Why would Nathan choose now to write something so 
hateful? Then it hit him. Jake Daniels wasn't in class.
Suddenly the entire scenario made sense. When Jake was thereno matter where he 
sat-he found a way to turn his classmates against Nathan.
Freak ... queer ... death doctor ... nerd ... loser. All names whispered and 
loosely tossed in Nathan's direction. When the whispers
5 carried to the front of the classroom, John would raise his eyebrows toward 
Jake and a handful of other football players in the class.
"That's enough." The warning was usually all John had to say. And for a little 
while, the teasing would stop. But always the careless taunting and cruel words 
hit their mark. John was sure of it. Not that Nathan ever let Jake and the 
others see his pain. The boy ignored all jocks, treated them as though they 
didn't exist. Which was probably the best way to get back at the student 
athletes who picked on him. Nothing bothered John's current football players 
more than being looked over.
That was especially true for Jake Daniels.
No matter that this year's team hadn't earned the accolades that came their way. 
The fact that the team's record was worse than any season in recent history 
mattered little to Jake and his teammates. They believed they were special and 
they intended to make everyone at school treat them accordingly.
John thought about this year's team. It was strange, really. They were talented, 
maybe more so than any other group of kids to come through Marion High. Talk 
around school was that they had even more going for them than last year's team 
when John's own son
Kade 4 KAREN KINGSBURY 'c led the
Eagles to a state championship. But they were arrogant and cocky, with no care 
for protocol or character. In all his years of coaching, John had never had a 
more difficult group. No wonder they weren't winning. Their talent was useless 
in light of their attitudes. And many of the boys' parents were worse. 
Especially since Marion had lost two of its first four games. Parents constantly 
complained about playing time, practice routines, and, of course, the losses. 
They were often rude and condescending, threatening to get John fired if his 
record didn't improve. "What happened to Marion
High's undefeated record?" they would ask him. "A good coach would've kept the 
streak going." "Maybe Coach Reynolds doesn't know what he's doing," they would 
say. "Anyone could coach the talent at Marion High and come up with an 
undefeated season. But losses?" They wondered out loud what type of colossal 
failure John Reynolds was to take a team of Eagles football players onto the 
field and actually lose. It was unthinkable to the Marion High parents. 
Unconscionable. How dare Coach Reynolds drop two games so early in the season!
6 And sometimes the wins were worse. "That was a cream puff opponent last week, 
Reynolds," the parents would say. If they had a two-touchdown win, the parents 
would harp that it should have been four at least. And then John's favorite line 
of all: "Why, if my son had gotten more playing time ..." Parents gossiped 
behind his back and undermined the authority he had on the field. Never mind the 
fact that the Eagles were coming off a championship season. Never mind that John 
was one of the winningest coaches in the state. Never mind that more than half 
of last year's championship squad had graduated, placing John in what was 
obviously a rebuilding year. The thing that mattered was whether the sons of 
john's detractors were being used at what they believed were the proper 
positions and for enough minutes each game. Whether their numbers were being 5
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE called at the appropriate times for the big plays, and how 
strong their individual statistics appeared in the paper.
It was just a rotten break that the biggest controversy on the team had, in a 
roundabout way, made Nathan's life miserable. Two quarterbacks had come into 
summer practices, each ready for the starting position: Casey Parker and Jake 
Daniels.
Casey was the shoo-in, the senior, the one who had ridden the bench behind Kade 
up until last year. All his high-school football career had come down to this, 
his final season with the Eagles. He reported in August expecting to own the 
starting position. What the boy hadn't expected was that Jake Daniels would show 
up with the same mindset.
Jake was a junior, a usually good kid from a family who once lived down the 
street from John and his wife, Abby. But two years ago, the Danielses split up. 
Jake's mother took
Jake and moved into an apartment. His father took a job in New Jersey hosting a 
sports radio program. The divorce was nasty. Jake was one of the casualties.
John shuddered. How close had he and Abby come to doing the same thing? Those 
days were behind them, thank God. But they were still very real for Jake 
Daniels.
At first Jake had turned to John, a father figure who wasn't half a country 
away.
John would never forget something Jake asked him. "You think my dad still loves 
me?"
The kid was well over six feet tall, nearly a man. But in that instant he was 
seven years old again, desperate for some proof that the father he'd counted
7 on all his life, the man who had moved away and left him, still cared.
John did everything he could to assure Jake, but as time passed, the boy grew 
quiet and sullen. He spent more hours alone in the weightroom and out on the 
field, honing his throwing skills. When summer practices came around, there was 
no question who would be the starting quarterback. Jake won the contest easily. 
The 6 KAREN KINGSBURY 'More' moment that happened, Casey Parker's father, Chuck, 
called a meeting with John. "Listen, Coach-was the veins on his temple popped 
out as he spoke"I heard my son lost the starting position." John had to stifle a 
sigh. "That's true." The man spouted several expletives and demanded an 
explanation. John's answer was simple. Casey was a good quarterback with a bad 
attitude. Jake was younger, but more talented and coachable, and therefore the 
better choice. "My son cannot be second string." Casey's father was loud, his 
face flushed. "We've been planning for this all his life! He's a senior and he 
will not be sitting the bench. If he has a bad attitude, that's only because of 
his intensity. Live with it." Fortunately, John had brought one of his 
assistants to the meeting. The way accusations and hearsay were flying about, 
he'd figured he couldn't be too careful. So he and his assistant had sat there, 
waiting for Parker to continue. "What I'm saying is-was Chuck Parker leaned 
forward, his eyes intent-by I've got three coaches breathing down my neck. We're 
thinking of transferring. Going where my kid'll get a fair shake." John resisted 
the urge to roll his eyes. "Your son has an attitude problem, Chuck. A big one. 
If other high-school coaches in the area are recruiting him, it's because they 
haven't worked with him." John leveled his gaze at the man. "What exactly are 
your concerns?" "I'll tell you my concern, Coach." Chuck pointed a rigid finger 
at
John. "You're not loyal to your players. That's what. Loyalty is everything in 
sports." This from a man whose son wanted to toss his letterman's jacket and 
transfer schools. As it turned out, Casey Parker stayed. He took snaps at 
running back and tight end and spelled Jake at quarterback. But the criticism 
from Casey's father had continued each week, embarrassing Casey and causing the 
boy to work harder to get along with Jake, his on-field rival. Jake seemed 
grateful to be accepted by a
8 More A TIME TO EMBRACE senior like
Casey, and the two of them began spending most of their free time together. It 
didn't take long to see the changes in Jake. Gone was the shy, earnest kid who 
popped into John's classroom twice a week just to connect. Gone was the boy who 
had once been kind to Nathan Pike. Now Jake was no different from the majority 
of players who strutted across Marion High's campus.
And in that way, the quarterback controversy had only made Nathan's life more 
miserable. Whereas once Nathan was respected by at least one of the football 
players, now he didn't have a single ally on the team.
John had overheard two teachers talking recently.
"How many Marion football players does it take to screw in a light bulb?"
"I give up."
"One-he holds it while the world revolves around him." There were nights when 
John wondered why he was wasting his time. Especially when his athletes' elitist 
attitudes divided the school campus and alienated students like Nathan Pike. 
Students who sometimes snapped and made an entire school pay for their low place 
in the social pecking order.
So what if John's athletes could throw a ball or run the length of a field? If 
they left the football program at Marion High without a breath of compassion or 
character, what was the point?
John drew a salary of $3,100 a season for coaching football. One year he'd 
figured it came out to less than two bucks an hour. Obviously he didn't do the 
job for the money.
He glanced at the clock. Three minutes of seatwork left. Images from a dozen 
different seasons flashed in his mind. Why was he in it, then? It wasn't for his 
ego. He'd had more strokes in his days as a quarterback for University of 
Michigan than most men received in a lifetime. No, he didn't coach for pride's 
sake. It was, very simply, because there were two things he seemed born to do: 
play football ... and teach teens. so KAREN KINGSBURY Ua Coaching was the purest 
way he'd known to bring those two together. Season after season after season, it 
had worked. Until now. Now it didn't feel pure at all. It felt ridiculous. Like 
the whole sports world had gone haywire. John drew a deep breath and stood, 
working the tendons in
9 his bum knee-the one with the old football injury. He walked to the chalkboard 
where, for the next ten minutes, he diagramed a series of nutritional food 
values and meticulously explained them. Then he assigned homework. But the whole 
time there was only one thing on his mind: Nathan Pike. How had a clean-cut 
student like Nathan once was become so angry and hateful? Was it all because of 
Jake Daniels? were Jake's and the other players' egos so inflated that they 
couldn't coexist with anyone different from them? And what about the words 
Nathan had scribbled on his notebook? Death to jocks. Did he mean it?
If so, what could be done? Schools like Marion High grew from the safe soil of 
Middle America. Most did not have metal detectors or mesh backpacks or video 
cameras that might catch a disturbed student before he took action. Yes, they 
had the red-flag program. Nathan had already been red-flagged. Everyone who knew 
him was watching. But what if that wasn't enough? John's stomach tightened, and 
he swallowed hard. He had no answers. Only that today, in addition to grading 
papers, inputting student test results in the computer, holding afternoon 
practice, and meeting with a handful of irritated parents along the sidelines, 
he would also have to talk to the principal about Nathan Pike's scribbled 
declaration. It was eight o'clock by the time he climbed into his car and opened 
an envelope he'd found in his school mailbox just before practice. "To whom it 
may concern," the letter began. "We are calling for
the resignation of Coach Reynolds ..." 9
"Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE John sucked in a sharp breath. What in the world.? His gut 
ached as he kept reading.
"Coach Reynolds is not the moral example we need for our young men. He is aware 
that several of his players are drinking and taking part in illegal road races. 
Coach Reynolds knows about this but does nothing. Therefore we are demanding he 
resign or be let go. If nothing is done about this, we will inform the media of 
our request." John remembered to exhale. The letter wasn't signed, but it was 
copied to his athletic director, his principal, and three school district 
officials.
Who could have written such a thing? And what were they referring to? John 
gripped the steering wheel with both hands and sat back hard. Then he 
remembered. There had been rumors in August when practice
10 first started up ... rumors that a few players had drunk and raced their 
cars. But that's all they'd been: rumors. John couldn't do anything about them 
...
He leaned his head against the car window. He'd been furious when he'd heard the 
report. He'd asked the players straight out, but each of them had denied any 
wrongdoing. Beyond that there wasn't a thing John could do. Protocol was that 
rumors not be given credence unless there was proof of a rule violation. Not a 
moral example for the players?
John's hands began to tremble and he stared over his right shoulder at the doors 
of the school. Surely his athletic director wouldn't acknowledge a cowardly, 
unsigned letter like this one. But then ... The athletic director was new. An 
angry man with a chip on his shoulder and what seemed like a vendetta against 
Christians. He'd been hired a year ago to replace Ray Lemming, a formidable man 
whose heart and soul had been given over to coaches and athletes. Ray was so 
involved in school athletics he was a fixture at the school, but last year, at 
the ripe age of sixty-three, he retired to spend more time with his family. The 
way most coaches saw it, much of the true heart of Marion sports retired right 
alongside him. 10
KAREN KINGSBURY cUs That was especially true after the school hired Herman Lutz 
as athletic director. John drew a weary breath. He'd done everything possible to 
support the man, but he'd already fired the boys' swim coach after a parent 
complaint. What if he took this absurd letter seriously? The other coaches saw 
Lutz as a person drowning in the complexities of the job. "It just takes one 
parent," one of the coaches had said at a meeting that summer. "One parent 
threatens to go to Lutz's boss, and he'll give them what they want." Even if it 
meant firing a coach.
John let his head fall slowly against the steering wheel. Nathan Pike ... the 
death threat against jocks ... the change in Jake Daniels ... the attitude of 
his players ... the complaining parents ... the inexplicable losses this season 
... And now this. John felt eighty years old. How had Abby's father survived a 
lifetime of coaching? The question shifted his thoughts and he let everything 
about the day fade for a moment. Thirteen hours ago he'd arrived at school, and 
only now could he do what he wanted more than anything else. The thing he looked 
forward to more with each passing day. He would drive
11 home, open the door of the house he'd almost lost, and take the woman he 
loved more than life itself into his arms. The woman whose blue eyes danced more 
these days, and whose every warm embrace erased a bit more of their painful 
past. The woman who cheered him on etch morning, and filled his heart when he 
couldn't take another minute of coaching and teaching. The woman he had almost 
walked away from. His precious Abby. 11
a
ABBY WAS WRITING THE OPENING
PARAGRAPH FOR HER latest magazine article when it happened.
There, between the third and fourth sentences, her fingers suddenly froze at the 
keyboard and the questions began to come. Was it true? were they really back 
together? Had they actually dodged the bullet of divorce without even their kids 
knowing how close they'd come? Slowly, Abby's eyes moved up away from the 
computer screen toward a shelf on her desk, to a recent photograph of her and 
John. Their newly married daughter, Nicole, had snapped the picture at a family 
softball game that past Labor Day weekend. There they were, Abby and John, side 
by side on the bleachers behind home plate, arms around each other. Looking like 
they'd never been anything but happily in love.
"You guys are so cute," Nicole had said at the time. "More in love every year."
Abby stared at the photo, her daughter's voice ringing like wind chimes in the 
corners of her mind. There was no obvious sign, really, no way of seeing how 
close theyd come to losing it. How very nearly they had thrown away twenty-two 
years of marriage. But when Abby looked at the picture, she knew. KAREN 
KINGSBURY Us It was there in the eyes, too deep for anyone but she and John to 
notice. A glistening of survivor love, a love tested and tried and so much 
stronger because of it all. A love that had placed its toes over the edge of a 
cold, dark abyss, steeled itself against the pain, and jumped. A love that had 
only at the last moment been caught by the nape of the neck and snatched back to 
safe pasture. Nicole had no idea, of course.
None of their kids did, really. Not Kade-now eighteen and in his first year at 
college. And certainly not their youngest, Sean. At eleven he had no idea how 
close she and John had come to walking away from each other. She glanced at the 
calendar.
12 Last year at this time they were making plans to divorce. Then Nicole and 
Matt announced their engagement, which delayed their timetable. But Abby and 
John planned to tell the kids after Nicole and Matt got home from their 
honeymoon. Abby shuddered. If she and John had divorced, the kids might never 
have recovered. Especially Nicole, who was so idealistic and trusting in love.
Baby, if you only knew ... And yet here they were ... she and John, exactly the 
way Nicole believed them to be. Abby often had to pinch herself to believe it 
was true, that she and John weren't filing for divorce and looking for a way to 
tell the kids. They weren't fighting or ignoring each other or on the verge of 
having affairs. They had survived. Not only that, but they were actually happy. 
Happier than they'd been since they'd said their vows. The things that tore so 
many couples apart had-through God's grace-made them stronger. One day, when the 
time was right, they would tell the kids what had almost happened. Maybe it 
would make them stronger, too. Abby turned her attention back to the computer 
screen. The article was one that grew from the roots of her heart: "Youth 
Coaches in America-a Dying Breed."
She had a new editor at the national magazine that bought most of her work. A 
woman with a 13
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE keen sense for the pulse and conscience of American 
families. In September she and Abby had discussed possible articles. An expose 
on coaching had actually been the editor's idea.
"The whole country's sports crazy," the woman said. "But everywhere I turn it 
seems another quality coach is calling it quits. Maybe it's time we took a look 
at why."
Abby almost laughed out loud. If anyone could write honestly about the pain and 
passion of coaching youth sports, she could. She was a coach's daughter, after 
all. Her father and John's had been teammates at the University of Michigan, the 
school where John played before getting his degree and doing the only thing that 
seemed naturalcoaching
football.
Her entire life had taken place around the seasons of the game. But after 
sharing the past two decades with John Reynolds, Abby could do more than write a 
magazine article about coaching. She could write a book. And she'd include it 
all: parents complaining about playing time, players ignoring
13 character and responsibility, unrealistic expectations, second-guessing, and 
catcalling from the stands. Fabricated accusations spouted in behind-the-scenes 
gossip circles designed to pressure a coach to step down. Never mind the team 
barbecues in the backyard or the way John used his own money to buy the guys 
breakfast a dozen times after a Saturday practice. It always came down to the 
bottom line: win more games or else. Was it any wonder coaches were quitting?
Abby's heart softened. There were still players who made the game a joy, still 
parents who thanked John after a hard-fought contest or dropped him a card in 
the mail expressing their gratitude. Otherwise there wouldn't be a man like John 
left in the coaching ranks. A handful of players at Marion High still tried hard 
in the classroom and on the field, still showed respect and earned it by their 
hard work and diligence. Players who appreciated the barbecues at the 
Reynoldses' house and the time and love John put into every season, every 
player. Young men who would go on to get college degrees and good jobs, 14 KAREN 
KINGSBURY rbleda and who years after graduating would still call the Reynoldses' 
house and ask, "Is Coach there?"' Those players used to be the norm. Why was it 
that now-for coaches across America-they were the exception? "Yes," Abby had 
told her editor. "I'd love to write the story." She'd spent the past few weeks 
interviewing coaches of longtime, successful programs. Coaches who had stepped 
down in recent years because of the same troubles that plagued John, the same 
reasons he came home tired and dejected more often. The front door opened, and 
Abby heard her husband sigh as he closed the door. His footsteps sounded across 
the tiled entryway. Not the firm, crisp steps of spring or summer, but the sad, 
shuffling steps of a football season gone awry. "I'm in here."
She pushed back from her computer and waited. John slumped into the room and 
leaned against the doorframe. His eyes found hers, and he held a folded piece of 
paper out to her.
She stood and took it from him. "Long day?"' "Read it." Abby sat back down, 
opened the note, and began to read. Her heart sank. They wanted John's 
resignation. were they crazy? Wasn't it enough that they harassed him daily? 
What did the parents want? She folded the note and tossed it on her desk. Then 
she went to John and
14 slipped her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry." He pulled her close, hugging 
her the way he'd done back when they were first married. Abby relished the 
sensation. John's strong arms, the smell of his cologne, the way they drew 
strength from each other ... This was the man she'd fallen in love with, the one 
she'd almost let get away. John straightened and studied her. "It's nothing to 
worry about." He leaned close and kissed her. A ripple of doubt sliced through 
the waters of Abby's soul. "It says a copy was sent to Herman Lutz. Athletic 
directors fire coaches when parents complain." 15
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "Not this time." John shrugged. "Lutz knows me better than 
that." "Ray Lemming knew you best of all." Abby kept her tone gentle. "I get a 
bad feeling about Herman Lutz."
"Lutz'll support me." He uttered a heavy chuckle. "Everyone knows I'd never let 
my players drink or have ... what was it?"' "Street races."
"Right. Street races. I mean, come on." He angled his head. "One or two parents 
will always complain. Even when we win every game." Abby didn't want to push the 
issue. "God's in control." John blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"'
"It means God'll back you. No matter who else does or doesn't." "You sound 
worried."
"Not worried. Just concerned about the letter." John leaned against the wall, 
took off his baseball cap, and tossed it on the couch. "Where's Sean?"'
"In his room." Their youngest son was in sixth grade. In the past few weeks, 
girls had begun to call. "His social life's left him a little behind at school. 
He'll be doing good to finish by ten." "No wonder it's so quiet." He released 
the hold he had on Abby's waist and brought his fingertips up along her face, 
tracing the outline of her cheekbones. "It isn't supposed to be like this."
The feel of his hands against her face sent a shiver down her back. "Coaching?"'
He nodded. "We won state last year." His tone was tired, his eyes darker than 
she'd seen them in a while. "What do they want from me?"' "I'm not sure." Abby 
studied him for a moment,
15 then lowered her chin. "I know what you need, though." John's expression 
softened. "What?"'
"Dancing lessons." Abby could almost feel the sparkle in her eyes. "Dancing 
lessons? So we can fox-trot over Jefferson next Friday night?"' "No, silly." She 
gave him a light push. "Stop thinking football." Her fingers linked with his and 
she waltzed him one step away from the wall and back. "I'm talking about us." 16 
KAREN KINGSBURY can" A quiet moan rumbled up from John's chest. "Come on, Abby. 
Not dance lessons. I'm tone-deaf, remember? And not a stitch of rhythm." She led 
him into the room a few more steps, her body close to his. "You dance with me on 
the pier." Her tone was pleading, and she did an intentional pout. She sounded 
like Nicole when she wanted her own way. "Oh,
Abby ... no." His shoulders slumped forward a bit, but there was a light in his 
eyes that hadn't been there before. "Dancing on the pier is different. Crickets 
and creaking boards ... the wind on the lake. I can dance to that kind of 
music." He arched his arm and twirled her beneath it. "Please, Abby. Don't make 
me take dance lessons." She'd already won. Still, she grinned at him and held up 
a single finger. "Wait." In a flash she darted to her desk and snatched the 
piece of newspaper she'd clipped earlier that day. "Look. They're at the high 
school." She held up the article. With a slight roll of his eyes he squinted at 
the headline. "Ballroom Dancing for Mature Couples?" He planted his hands on his 
hips and raised his eyebrows at her. "Great. Not only will I be sashaying for 
the first time in my life, I'll be doing it in the company of people twice my 
age." His head fell back a notch. "Abby ... please." She pointed to the smaller 
print. "Forty and older, John. That's what the article says." "We're not that 
old." He was playing with her now, teasing her the way he'd done back when she 
was a high-school senior, surprised beyond words that this college-age star 
quarterback who'd been a family friend forever, wanted to date her. Her, of all 
people. A giggle slipped from her lips and she drew close to him once more. 
"Yes, we are that old." "No." His mouth hung open for a moment and he pointed 
first to her, then to himself. "How old are we?" "I'm forty-one and you're 
forty-five." "Forty-five?" He mouthed the words, his expression a twist of mock 
horror. 17
16 
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "Yes, forty-five."
"Really?" He took the news clipping from her and studied it again. "Really."
"Well, then ..." The article drifted to the floor. This time he took her hand in 
his and waltzed her toward the doorway. "I guess it's time for dancing lessons."
John led them from the center of her office into the entryway. "Mature, huh?"
"Yep." She loved moments like this, when it felt like she and John shared one 
heartbeat. They waltzed down the hall toward the kitchen. "You don't think I'm 
mature, though, do you?" As he said the words, his feet became tangled with 
hers, and he fell backward, pulling Abby down with him. They smacked the wall as 
they landed, one on top of the other. The shock lasted only a few seconds.
When it was clear they were both okay, a ripple of laughter burst from both of 
them. "No, John ..." Deep waves of giggles sent Abby rolling onto the floor 
beside him. "No worries. I don't think you're mature."
"That's good." He was laughing harder than her, even. So hard there were tears 
in his eyes. "I wouldn't want that." "But you do need dance lessons."
"Apparently." His laughter grew. "It reminds me ... of the time you ..." He 
tried to catch his breath. "The time you fell down the stairs at Sea World."
"That's right." Her ribs hurt from laughing so hard. "I had to get that seat."
"I'll never forget the sea lions." John imitated how the animals had swung their 
heads in Abby's direction that day. "Don't . . ." Abby sucked in a breath. 
"You're killing me."
"People sticking out arms and legs trying to stop you." John sat up and rested 
his elbows on his knees.
She exhaled, finally catching her breath. "We're ... quite a pair." 18 KAREN 
KINGSBURY very John struggled to his feet and leaned against the wall. "It 
worked." He stuck his hand out and helped Abby to her feet. "What?" Abby's heart 
felt lighter than a summer breeze. How good it was to laugh like this, rolling 
around on the floor, being silly with John. "I know you don't think I'm mature 
now." They linked arms and entered the kitchen. "Definitely not." "Starving, 
maybe." He rubbed his backside. "But never mature."
17 
KAREN KINGSBURY to DINNER WAS IN FULL SWING. IT WAS WEDNESDAY, AND every seat at 
the table was taken. John and Abby and Sean filled out one side, while Nicole 
and Matt and Matt's parents, Jo and Denny Conley, took up the other.
Abby loved nights like this, when the gang gathered at the Reynoldses' house, 
laughing and sharing updates about their lives. Across from her, Abby admired 
the glow on Nicole's face. Thank
You, God, for bringing Matt into her life. Don't ever let them go through what 
John and I did ...
The group was giggling about something Denny had said, something about a fishing 
hook getting caught in the pastor's hairpiece the previous weekend.
"Thing is-was Jo set her fork down, her face red from laughing"none of us knew 
about the hair thingy. I mean Pastor stands up there every Sunday as honest as a 
trout in summertime." She gestured around the table. "You know what I mean ... 
the man's not one of those big-hair types you see on TV. He's the real deal. 
Genuine." Abby didn't know the man, but she felt for him all the same. "He 
must've been mortified." Denny shrugged, but before he could respond, Jo leaned 
forward and held up her finger. "Know what he told me. He says, @Jo, don't you 
go tellin' no one at church about this. The good Lord took my hair, but that 
don't mean I can't wear a hat."" Jo slapped the table and the water in her glass 
jostled over the rim. "A hat! Isn't that the funniest thing y'all ever heard?" 
Abby studied the red-headed woman, tiny and full of fire, a woman Abby never 
would have chosen for her daughter's mother-in-law. But Jo had grown on Abby and 
Nicole, and now they found her charming. A bit talkative, and maybe a little too 
interested in fishing, but wonderfully real and full of love. Their family 
get-togethers weren't the same without her. Nicole wiped her mouth and looked at 
John. "Heard anything from Kade?" "Nothing new." John shrugged. "School's going 
well, football, too." "He's a redshirt this year, isn't he?" Denny anchored his 
elbows on the table. "He is. It'll give him an extra year of eligibility." "The 
whole redshirt thing doesn't sit well with me." Jo made a face. "Like a bad 
bucket o' bait." Abby smiled. "It's a coach's call. There's a lot of talent 
ahead of Kade on the depth chart. He's okay with
18 redshirting."
"I don't care." Jo's tone grew loud, more passionate. "Young Kade's good enough 
to start, after all, and I'd tell "em so myself if I had the coach's number." 
She cocked her head in John's direction. "You don't have it, do you?"' Everyone 
laughed except Jo, who glanced about the table as though they'd all taken leave 
of their senses. "I'm serious as a thunderstorm on Lake Michigan. The boy's 
good." "It's okay,
Jo." John grinned at the woman, and Abby savored the effect. Lately, John's 
smile did wonderful things to Abby's heart. His voice was kind as he helped Jo 
understand. "Kade agreed to redshirt. He has a lot to learn before he takes the 
field." 21
Rather A TIME TO EMBRACE "Yes-"
Nicole looked at Abby-by and he's coming home soon, right?"
Abby admired the way her daughter handled herself around Jo. In the few months 
since marrying Matt, Nicole had become expert at dealing with her mother-in-law, 
knowing when to steer the conversation and how to distract Jo when she became 
too excited. "That's right." Abby nodded. "Iowa plays at Indiana, October 20. 
It's only a four-hour drive from here. The school has that Monday off, so 
Kade'll come home with us, stay Sunday, and fly back to school Monday." "Yep." 
Sean looked up from his dinner. "Ten days and counting." "Well, don't you know I 
want in on that surer than a flea on a billy goat. Me and Denny, here, why we'll 
be tagging along right behind you down the turnp-was Jo gasped. "Wait." She 
jabbed her elbow into Denny's ribs, and the man jumped. "That's the weekend we 
have the mission thing, isn't it?"
Denny thought for a moment. "I think it is." Matt looked up, his fork hanging in 
the air. "Mission thing?" He loved Abby's cooking and usually spent dinner 
letting the others talk while he worked on cleaning his plate. Abby had made 
stuffed pork chops and glazed potatoes, and Matt was already on his third 
serving. His eyes twinkled as he met his mother's gaze. "What mission thing?" 
"Aw, shucks." Jo exchanged a look with Denny, and then exhaled hard. "We weren't 
going to tell you young folks yet. Wanted it to be a surprise." Nicole leaned 
forward so she could see her in-laws more clearly. "You're taking a mission
19 trip?"
"Actually-was Denny reached for Jo's hand-by it's a little more involved than 
that."
Abby could feel the anticipation building around the table. After all, Matt's 
parents had divorced when Matt was a small child. They'd lived separate lives 
until Matt and Nicole's engagement. Then-in a series of events that was nothing 
short of miraculous-first Denny,
then Jo became believers. Two months ago they remarried and got involved at 
church. Now they spent Saturdays fishing with their pastor. 22 KAREN KINGSBURY 
'Ma "Mom-was Matt set his fork down and leaned on the table-by what're you guys 
talking about?" "Dag-nabbit." Jo shot an apologetic look at Denny. "I must have 
the biggest mouth this side of a steelhead." Then she turned and faced her son. 
"The truth is, your dad and I are thinking about spending a year in Mexico. 
Working at an orphanage down there and ..." For maybe the first time since Abby 
had known Jo, the woman was silent. The news was so amazing, so unlike anything 
Jo had ever done, even she could think of nothing to add. Nicole squealed. 
"That's amazing!" She bounced up from her chair and positioned herself behind Jo 
and Denny, placing an arm around each of them. "You'll love every minute of it." 
Jo shrugged, her cheeks suddenly red. "Well, it's not like we can do much for 
"em, you know. But we're willin'. Pastor says that's what matters." Denny 
cleared his throat. "We'll help build a second room for babies and do general 
maintenance. Sort of act as caretakers for the place." "Dad, that's great." Matt 
reached out and shook his father's hand.
"I guess I can't believe it. I never thought my parents would spend a year in 
mission work." John flashed Abby a quick look. "We serve a God of miraclesthat's 
for sure." Abby let her eyes fall to her plate. She understood the secret 
meaning in John's words, and at times like this, she wanted desperately to tell 
the kids about their own miracle. How they'd almost divorced and then somehow, 
found the way to the old pier in their backyard. How, there and then, in the 
hours after Nicole's wedding, God had opened their ears to hear the music once 
more-the music of their lives-and they'd remembered again how to dance. The 
miracle was this: they'd stayed together and made something beautiful of their 
marriage. It wouldn't have happened without God's
20 divine hand, and as such, it was a miracle worth sharing. But they couldn't. 
Abby and John had never told any of them 23
to A TIME TO EMBRACE about what had almost happened. The kids would have been 
too shaken, especially Nicole. No, the kids had no idea. She doubted they ever 
would.
Abby looked up and let the thought go. Congratulations continued around the 
table, and Jo and Denny answered a host of questions. If all went well, they 
would leave for Mexico in July and return a year later. "They asked us if we 
could teach the children anything while we were there." Jo winked at Denny. "I 
told "em I'd have those kids baitin' a hook in no time."
Matt gave his mother a warm smile, his tone light and teasing. "If I know you, 
you'll probably bring back a couple of little fishermen." "Right." The tips of 
Jo's smile faded and her laugh sounded suddenly forced.
The change wasn't enough for everyone at the table to notice, but Abby caught 
it. Something about Matt's mention of the orphans had caused Jo's heart to 
stumble. Abby would have to look for opportunities in the coming months when she 
and Jo could talk. She was almost sure the woman harbored deep feelings on the 
topic, feelings she maybe hadn't shared with Matt or Nicole.
"Wait a minute-was Denny nodded his head in Matt's direction"your mother and I 
aren't looking to be parents again."
"What he means is, I wanna be a grandma. Sooner the better." "A grandma?" 
Nicole's mouth hung open in pretend shock. "Sorry, Jo. We're years away from 
granting that wish."
"I'd say." Matt slipped an arm around Nicole's shoulders. "I think the game plan 
is four years, isn't it?" "Exactly." Abby had to bite her lip to keep from 
laughing out loud. "If only it worked that way."
"Yeah." John narrowed his eyes. "We got married July 14, 1979. And what was our 
plan on children?" "Five years, I believe." "And when was Nicole born?" 24 KAREN 
KINGSBURY More "April 16, 1980." Abby gave Nicole a quick smile. "But that's 
okay, honey. You can pretend you have a plan. Less stress that way." On the 
other side of the table, Jo was still working out the math. Her fingers moved 
one across the others, then came to an abrupt stop. She gasped and stared at
21 Abby. "You mean Nicole was born nine months and two days after the weddin'?" 
The light in her eyes was full strength once more. She leaned across Matt's 
plate and patted Nicole on the hand. "No wonder you're so sweet, darlin'. I 
always thought it was your upbringing." She sent a quick look John's way. "And 
it's that, too, of course." She looked back at Nicole. "But
I had no idea you were a honeymoon baby. Honeymoon babies are better than a week 
on the lake. All gushy and drippy and believin' in happily ever after." Jo 
sucked in a quick breath and shifted her eyes to Matt. "You better take good 
care o' her, son. She ain't no ordinary girl. She's a honeymoon baby." She 
lowered her voice, and the others had to strain to hear it. "Good for you, son. 
You got yourself a catch better'n anything a rod and reel will ever land you. 
Besides, honeymoon babies beget honeymoon babies. That's what I always heard, 
anyway." "Excuse me." Nicole held up her hand, her smile sincere. "This 
honeymoon baby will not be begetting anytime short of four years." She leaned 
against Matt and gazed at his eyes. "My brilliant husband has a law career to 
launch first." It was only then that Abby noticed John's eyes. They'd grown 
distant in the past few minutes, like he'd already left them and headed up for 
bed, leaving his body behind as a means of being polite. Abby looked harder. No, 
it wasn't distance. It was depth ... depth and pain. Then it hit her. He was 
thinking about football again. The topic hadn't come up all night, and Abby was 
glad. They'd both spent most of their recent days battling the questions all 
people in coaching have to ask themselves if they stay in long enough: What's it 
all for? Why are we involved with this? Isn't there more to life? The dinner 
wound down, and Nicole and Matt left with Denny 25
idl Ill
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ICI,, I Iil lj
llI ,"III cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE and Jo behind them. Sean turned in with promises 
to finish his math homework. Abby followed John up to their bedroom. "What's on 
your mind?"
Only then, when they were finally alone, did his feelings find words. They were 
words she hadn't ever expected John Reynolds to say. He simply rubbed the back 
of his head and studied her. Then in a
22 voice filled with conviction and fatigue, he said it. "I'm quitting football, 
Abby. This is my last year." The statement knocked around in her mind and 
rattled its way down to her gut. She had always known the day would come. But 
she had never expected it to come now. Not on the tails of a championship 
season. Oh, sure this season was harder than others. But John had dealt with 
complaining parents before, handled bad attitudes and unexplainable losses. 
Those things happened to every coach. But the idea that he might hang up his 
whistle now, with so many years of teaching left, was more surprising than 
anything John could have said. Almost as surprising as the feelings rising 
within her. All her life, in the cellar of her heart, Abby had dreaded the day 
when football would no longer be part of her routine. But here, now ... with her 
eyes locked on John's, she felt no dread whatsoever. She felt relief. 26 EVEN 
PARKED, THE CAR
LOOKED FAST. Jake Daniels and a handful of his teammates were leaving practice 
Saturday morning when they spotted it. A red Acura Integra NSX. Maybe a '91 or 
'92.
Unable to keep from gawking, the group stopped. Casey Parker was the first to 
recover. It was the nicest car Jake had ever seen. "Tight, man." Casey slung his 
gym bag over his shoulder. "I'll bet that baby can run." The car was so shiny 
Jake almost had to squint. It had two doors, a spoiler in the front, and a riser 
across the back. The body hugged the ground, snug against a hot set of Momo 
wheels. Suddenly the black-tinted passenger window lowered, and a man waved in 
their direction. Jake narrowed his eyes even more. What the...? "Hey, Daniels, 
isn't that your dad?" Casey punched Jake in the arm. "Where's the blonde?" Jake 
gulped. It was his dad, all right. He'd showed up at last night's football 
game-the first he'd attended since moving to New Jersey. Beside him had been 
some blonde girl in a spandex shirt, leather
I'IeaIIII!
Illlji' Illllii 'i II III
jjh lillll Ilfil
'u A TIME TO EMBRACE pants, and spiked heels. She couldn't have been more than 
twenty-five. Big-time bimbo, working a wad of gum and batting her eyelashes. The 
other guys razzed Jake about
23 her all morning at Saturday's practice.
"She available, man ... or does your dad have first dibs?"
"Your dad into sharing, Daniels? That's the hottest stepmom I've ever seen."
"She's not his stepmom ... she's his girlfriend. He and his dad take turns."
The comments had gotten old after the first hour, but the guys kept at it. 
Still, whoever the blonde was, she wasn't in the Integra. Jake nodded to his 
teammates, shouldered his bag, and headed for the car. Normally his mother met 
him after practice in their old van, faithful and sure, always on time. But not 
today.
"Hey . . ." His father waited until Jake was closer before he said anything. 
"Climb in."
Jake did as he was told. The car must be a rental. Apparently his dad was making 
big bucks at the radio station. Back when he worked for the Marion paper, before 
the divorce, his father never would have rented an Acura NSX. But then, he 
wouldn't have had an airhead for a girlfriend either. A lot had changed.
"Well ... what do you think?" His father's smile was practically bursting 
through his skin. "Where is she?"
His expression went blank. "Who?" "The girl. Bambi. Bimby ... whatever her name 
was."
"Bonnie." A shadow fell across his eyes, and he looked older than Mom. They were 
the same age, but there were more lines on Dad's forehead now. He worked them 
with his thumb and forefinger and cleared his throat. "She's getting a massage."
"Oh." Jake wasn't sure what to say. "Thanks for picking me up." He patted the 
dashboard. "Nice rental." 28 KAREN KINGSBURY 'Ua His dad leaned forward, 
sunglasses in one hand, his arm resting on the steering wheel. He looked like 
one of those guys in a Sports Illustrated ad. "What if I told you it wasn't a 
rental?" It took a moment for Jake to remember to breathe. "Not a rental?" The 
grin was back on his father's face. "Remember last summer, that conversation we 
had about cars?"
"Cars?" "That's right." An unfamiliar chuckle slipped from his dad's mouth. 
Something about it made Jake feel like he didn't know the man. Almost like he 
was trying too hard to be cool. "Uh . . ." Jake tried not to be bugged. Where 
were these questions going, anyway? "You asked me which cars were hot
24 right now, right? That conversation?" "Exactly. You told me the hottest car 
would be a used Acura NSX ... maybe a "91. Remember?"'
"Okay . . ." Jake's heart rate doubled.
It wasn't possible, was it? After all, he would be seventeen next week. But 
would his dad really come all the way from New Jersey to bring him aHe swallowed 
hard. "Dad ... whose car is it?"' Moving his arm off the wheel with more flare 
than usual, his father turned off the engine, pulled out the key, and handed it 
to Jake. "It's yours, son. Happy birthday."
Jake's mouth hung open a moment. "No way." "Yes, way." His dad grinned again and 
slipped on the sunglasses. "I'm busy next weekend so I brought it down now. That 
way you'll have it for your big day." A million thoughts crowded Jake's ability 
to think. Was his father serious? A car like this had to cost forty grand! And 
what about Jeni and Kindra and Julieanne? For that matter what about Kelsey? The 
superbabes would all be after him once they got a look at this thing. Man, she 
could probably do zero to sixty in five flat. Probably reach one-thirty, 
one-forty in a street race. Jake gulped. What would Mom think? She didn't want 
him owning 29
illlll ILII
Pi'l 11 iI iffbleda
Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE any car yet-let alone the hottest street racer this side of 
the Illinois state line.
His father was staring at him, the grin still in place. "Well .. "Dad, it's 
awesome. I'm in shock."
"Yeah, well ... it's the least I can do." He removed the sunglasses again, his 
eyes serious. "I've missed a lot, being gone, son. Maybe this'll make it up to 
you. At least a little."
"A little? How "bout a lot." Jake's fingers and toes tingled; the flesh on his 
arms and legs all but buzzed with excitement. He wanted to stand on the roof and 
shout it to the world. I own an Acura NSX! His dad might have changed, but the 
man did love him, after all. He must. And Jake loved him, too. Especially now.
His father was watching him again, waiting. But what could Jake say? How did a 
kid thank his dad for something like this? He lifted his shoulders a few times. 
"I don't know what to say, Dad. Thanks.
25 It's perfect. I ... I can't believe it's mine."
His dad laughed again, the kind of polished laugh he probably did often on his 
radio program.
"I think you're in my seat, son." His father released the hood latch and climbed 
out. Jake did the same. They met near the front of the car, and Jake couldn't 
resist. He slipped his fingers beneath the hood and popped it open. Jake pulled 
in a sharp breath. No way! He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Did his dad 
know this wasn't a stock engine? Act normal, he told himself. Don't give it 
away. The engine block was raised, with a reshaped combustion chamber and a 
custom intake manifold. Forget fast. This car was going to fly. "Good stuff, 
huh?"' His dad patted his shoulder and left his hand there. The feel of it made 
Jake miss the old days. Back when there wasn't this ... this awkwardness between 
them. "Yeah ... nice."
His dad did a little cough. "It's a fast car, son." Jake twisted around and met 
his father's eyes. He probably had plans to take the engine back to stock first 
thing next week. "Yes, sir." "Let's keep that little detail from your mother, 
okay?"' 30 KAREN KINGSBURY u@ "Really?"' Jake's mouth was dry. What would the 
guys say about this? They'd want to hang with him every weekend, for sure. He'd 
be the most sought-after kid at Marion High. Mom would be furious if she knew 
how fast it was ... or how much it cost. But Dad was right. No point bothering 
her with the details. "I won't say a word." Dad raised a finger and pointed it 
close to Jake's face. "But no tickets, now, you hear?"' "Not a one." Jake 
nodded, serious and certain. This was a car he could have fun with, but he'd be 
careful. No risk taking. No street racing. Well ... maybe a little street 
racing, but nothing dangerous. A few of the guys on the team had started racing 
lately. But even if he did, it wouldn't be much. Once a month, maybe. Besides, 
he had a reputation for being one of the safest drivers at school. "You can 
trust me, Dad." "Good."
His father dropped the sunglasses back in place and glanced at his watch. 
"Better get you home. Your mom'll wonder what took us so long." Besides, 
Bunny-or whatever her name is-is waiting. Jake let the thought go. He moved to 
pass his father en route to the driver's seat. It was a moment when, in years 
past, Jake would have hugged his dad hard,
26 or crooked his elbow around his neck and given him a few light, playful 
punches in the gut.
But not now. Since his parents' divorce, everything had changed. First his 
father's address and job title, then his clothes and the ways he spent his 
Saturday nights. Girls like what's-her-name were a dime a dozen for his dad. And 
why not? His dad was a looker. Handsome, strong, former jock, smooth voice ... 
Girls liked men like his dad. What Jake didn't get, though, was what his dad saw 
in the girls. Especially with someone as wonderful as Mom living at home alone. 
With each passing second, the moment grew more awkward, and finally Jake thrust 
his hand forward. His dad did the same, and the two shook hard. "Thanks again, 
Dad. It's awesome." 31 II
III
III
Ili'j like "Ua A TIME To EMBRACE
Jake made his way around the car, climbed in, and started the engine. As he 
drove back home, careful to keep to the speed limit, the car felt like one of 
those racehorses chomping at the bit in the moments before the big event. 
Something told him his Integra wouldn't hit stride until it was cruising well 
over a hundred.
Of course, he didn't share that thought with his dad. In fact, he doubted he'd 
share it with the guys. This car would blow away anything they drove, so what 
was the point? Racing would only get him in trouble. It was enough merely owning 
a car like this. He smiled. His father had nothing to worry about. He would be 
the most careful Integra NSX driver ever.
The moment his mother walked out of the house, her feelings were obvious. First 
shock, then awe, then a fierce and pointed anger aimed directly at his father. 
She barely shot a look at Jake as the two of them climbed out and anchored 
themselves on either side of the car. "What's this?" She gestured at the car the 
same way she gestured at his math papers when he fell short of a C.
"This?" Dad looked from the car back to Mom. "A birthday present for Jake. I'm 
out of town next week, so I brought it a few days early." "You mean the cruise 
you and Bonnie are taking?" His mother's smile made Jake's skin crawl ... it was 
practically evil. "Your girlfriend talked, Tim. Word gets around."
Jake winced at the pain that cut him deep in his gut. It's because of Moms tone, 
he insisted to himself.
27 Not because his father would rather take a cruise with some blonde than be 
there for his own son's birthday. He lifted his eyes in his father's direction.
Dad's mouth hung open, and he seemed to search for something to say. "How'd you. 
. ." He crossed his arms. "Look, what I do on my own time is my business, okay?" 
"So that's what this is." "What?"
"The fancy sports car." Jake's mother laughed once, but there was nothing funny 
in her voice. The pain in Jake's gut worsened, and he 32 KAREN KINGSBURY More 
thought he might be sick. He hated when she acted like this. His mother waved at 
the car and continued. "I get it, Tim. It's some kind of atonement for 
everything you're not doing for Jake this year. A makeup for all the hours 
you're spending with the girlfriend."
"You have no right saying that in front of-was "In front of who? Jake? Like you 
care." She huffed. "No boy Jake's age should be driving a car like that." Wait a 
minute ... Jake wanted to interject but one look at his mom's rage-filled face 
and he decided against it.
"You're crazy, Tara. The car's perfect." "What do you take me for, a fool? 
That's an Integra. His Her voice grew louder.
Jake clutched his stomach. His parents were acting like kids fighting over some 
stupid toy. Only he was the toy-and it wasn't so much that they wanted him, 
really, but that they each wanted to win. "So what?"' "It's too fast, that's 
what." She paced a few steps back toward the apartment and then spun around. "If 
you want him to have transportation, Tim, buy him a Bronco or a truck." Her eyes 
narrowed. "But an Integra?" Jake had heard enough. He swung his bag over his 
shoulder and slipped past his parents without either of them seeming to notice. 
This was why theyd divorced. The fighting and yelling. The namecalling. Jake 
hated it, especially today. Hated the way it shot darts at his good feelings. He 
flopped on his bed and buried his face in the pillow. Why couldn't they love 
each other like they used to? And why'd they have to fight all the time? Didn't 
they know how much it hurt him? Other kids had divorced parents, but at least 
they tried to get along. Not his parents, though. Every time they were together 
it was like they hated each other. Jake rolled over and stared at the ceiling. 
Why was he letting their problems ruin the day? Nothing would change the thrill 
of what had 33
28 
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EMBRACE just happened. The car was his, and it was a dream. Tons better than the 
heap of rust that dork Nathan Pike drove.
His parents' fights were their problem. No matter how determined they were to 
ruin the weekend, Monday would be the greatest day of Jake's life for one simple 
reason.
He was the proud owner of a shiny red Integra NSX, a car faster than just about 
anything in Illinois. 34 MATURITY HAD NOTHING TO
DO WITH X. Thirty minutes into the dance lessons at the Marion High gymnasium, 
John felt like a freshmen struggling through gym class, bumbling about on two 
left feet and not sure of his next step. The instructor was a white-haired woman 
in her late fifties named Paula. She wore a microphone headpiece and was dressed 
in thick tights and a leotard. Her tone was condescending, with a forced 
cheerfulness that made John feel anything but mature. On top of that, she 
clapped her hands often. "Okay, class." She let her eyes drift down the line of 
fifteen couples. Two, maybe three cups of coffee too many. John grimaced. Paula 
clapped her hands again. "Line up." Her eyebrows seemed permanently raised. 
"Let's try that again." Abby was holding her own, except when he stepped on her 
foot. Trouble was, he'd been doing that often enough to make it part of the 
dance routine. He gave Abby a quick grin. "Here we go again. Hope your feet can 
take it." "Stop it, John." She giggled. "The teacher will hear you." "Perky 
Paula, you mean." The music had started, and already they to ills Can
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Us A TIME TO EMBRACE were struggling to keep up with the other couples. John 
kept his voice to a whisper. "She's too busy counting out the beat."
John twirled Abby, and she nodded once in his direction. "Very nice." "Sure, 
next thing you know I'll be up there with Paula." John danced a bit straighter 
and tried the next series of steps
29 without looking. As he did, he came down on Abby's foot, sending her shoe 
skittering across the gym floor.
Paula shot them a stern look-the type usually reserved for students who shot 
spit wads. She clucked her tongue. "Please ... hurry back in line."
Abby's lips were tight, the last line of defense before she burst into laughter. 
She ran after her shoe with tiptoe steps, ducking down as though that might help 
make the two of them less of a distraction. When the shoe was back on her foot, 
she returned to John's side, and they did their best to blend back into line 
with the others.
It was no wonder John couldn't concentrate on the dance steps. Abby looked 
simply radiant. She could easily have been a decade younger, and the sparkle in 
her eyes made him feel as giddy as it had back when they first started dating. 
Why hadn't he seen her beauty last year or the year before? Or the year before 
that? How could he possibly have allowed himself to be distracted by another 
woman?
What could have made him think anyone might fill that place in his heart the way 
his precious Abby did?
"What are you thinking?" She whispered the words, and they found their way 
straight to his heart.
It no longer mattered that their dance steps weren't perfectly in time with the 
other couples around them. "That you're beautiful. That you've always been the 
most beautiful woman in the world." A blush fell across Abby's cheeks. "I love 
you, John
Reynolds." His feet stopped, and Abby danced her way up against him. As she did, 
he leaned down and kissed her. "Thank you, Abby . . . for loving me." The couple 
back one spot in the line bumped into them and then danced their way around. 36 
KAREN KINGSBURY cUs "Keep moving, people." Paula clapped her hands, her eyes 
fixed on John and Abby. "This is dance class ... not the prom." They fell back 
into line with the others once more. But no reprimand from the instructor could 
stop Abby and him from locking eyes, from allowing the rest of the world to fade 
as they danced in a way they'd always meant to. But for the grace of God, where 
would they be right now? For that matter, where would God be in the mix of 
things? And who would John be sharing his bed with?
A shudder gripped his gut. God ... thank You that I didn't fall the way I could 
have. Let me always love Abby like I do right now. Don't ever
30 let us wander from each other again. Or from You ... please. A chord of three 
strands is not quickly broken, my son. The silent whisper in his soul, the 
reminder of a Scripture he and Abby had used at their wedding, was enough to 
break John's concentration. Almost in perfect time to the music, he stepped on 
Abby's foot again. This time she let out a quick squeak and jumped. Behind them 
in line, two other women did the same sort of jump, apparently thinking it was 
part of the dance. When Abby realized what was happening, she lost it. Her 
laughter was silent, but relentless. And John was helpless to do anything but 
join her. Several times Paula shot them a look of pure frustration, shaking her 
head as if to say Abby and John would never be mature dancers. Not in a hundred 
years. By the time the lesson was over, Abby was limping. They were halfway to 
the car when John hunched down in front of her. "Your chariot, my dear." Her 
laugh sounded like the wind chimes on their backyard deck in spring. John 
savored the sound, reveling in her nearness. She played out a gentle beat on his 
back. "You don't have to do that, John. I can walk." "No, come on. I damaged 
your toes.
I can give you a ride." He reached back for her legs, and as he did, she hopped 
onto his back. At 37
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Us A TIME TO EMBRACE first he walked, but the harder she laughed the faster he 
went until he was galloping. He went past the car and did a small circle around 
the parking lot. Everything about the moment felt free and undefined and alive. 
As though time had stopped for them to celebrate the joy of being together. He 
let out a shout that echoed against the wall of the school. "Yeeee-haw!"
"I wonder-was Abby's words were broken up by the bumpiness of the ride-by what 
old Paula would think of this dance move?" Finally he ran back to their car and 
set Abby down near the passenger door. The parking lot was empty, all the mature 
dancers having gone home to chamomile tea and early sleep. Abby leaned against 
the car door, breathless from the ride and the laughter. "What a night."
John grew quiet and he moved up against her, leaning close so their bodies were 
molded in all the right places. Passion colored the moment, and he
31 studied her in silence. The only sounds were the occasional drone of a car on 
the distant road and the intoxicating whisper of Abby's heartbeat against his. 
He traced her chin, the delicate line of her jaw. "I feel like a teenager in 
love."
"Well . . ." She tilted her head back, her throat slim and curved in the 
moonlight. There was a raspy sound of desire in her voice, the way John had 
heard it often these past months. "Maybe that's because we're in a high-school 
parking lot."
"No." He angled his head so he wouldn't block any of the light. He wanted to see 
her face ... all of it ... wanted to memorize everything about her. "That's not 
why." "It isn't?"
"Nope." He ran his fingers lightly down the length of her arms. "It's you, Abby. 
You make me feel this way."
They were quiet a minute, their bodies moving subtly until they were even closer 
than before. John nuzzled her face, breathing in the scent of her perfume as he 
dusted his lips along the side of her neck. When he looked up, he saw her eyes 
were watery. Fear stabbed at 38 KAREN KINGSBURY Us him-he'd sworn to never make 
her cry again. "What're you thinking, baby?" A single tear made its way down her 
cheek. "It's a miracle, John. What I feel ... what we feel for each other. Six 
months ago .. She didn't finish the sentence, and John was glad. He held his 
finger to her lips. "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"' "Yes." She 
lowered her chin and gave a few slow blinks. It was a look of both shyness and 
flirtation, a look that had driven him mad since he was a college boy. "When did 
I tell you?"' "During the dance lesson, remember?"' The corners of Abby's mouth 
lifted and her eyes twinkled. "That was a long time ago." He placed a soft kiss, 
one at a time, on each of her eyes. "I mean lately. Have I told you lately how 
beautiful you are?"' Another tear fell, and she uttered a sound that was more 
laugh than cry. "I guess not." "Well
... you're more beautiful than a sunrise, Abby Reynolds. More beautiful than 
spring. In case I don't tell you often enough, I want you to know. I couldn't 
think about anything else in that dance lesson." He gave her a lopsided grin.
"Not when all I wanted to do was ... He was suddenly out of words. In their 
place, he moved
32 toward her in a dance step he was far more familiar with. Then he kissed her 
as he'd been longing to do for an hour. When they came up for air, both their 
heartbeats had quickened. "Hey ..." He kissed her twice more and then held her 
gaze. "Wanna come back to my place?" "Not for dancing, I hope." One of her 
eyebrows lifted just a bit, the way it always did when she teased him. "My feet 
are sore enough." "No-was he framed her face with his fingertips, letting a slow 
smile ease across his mouth-by not ballroom dancing, anyway." "Hmmm." She gently 
brushed her lips against his, then put her 39
IffIII j'I'lllffI to ,iea1 I I i ieaIeaI If IIII IIIIIFFILFFI'I
I'" III to IIFFIII iCp!
III can" A TIME TO EMBRACE hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a few 
inches. "Lead the way, Mr. Reynolds. Lead the way."
They crept into the house like a couple of delinquents breaking curfew. Not that 
it mattered. Sean was spending the night at a friend's, so they had the house to 
themselves.
Abby felt better than she'd felt in years as she followed John into the living 
room. "Okay, so where's the ballroom for this dance?" "I'll show you, Mrs. 
Reynolds." He took her hand and led her up the stairs toward their room. "Follow 
me." The hour that came next was more wonderful than Abby dared dream. She had 
heard from other women that after rocky times in their marriages, physical 
intimacy was never quite the same. Especially if another woman had been in the 
picture.
But from the moment she and John stood on their backyard pier in the hours after 
Nicole's wedding and recognized the impossibility of walking away from each 
other, Abby had fallen in love with her husband all over again. It really was a 
miracle. Their relationship now was like an intense, passionate release of all 
the feelings they'd buried for those three awful years.
Now they spent their intimate moments making it up to each other. Celebrating 
the joy of having rediscovered something that was almost lost for good. Never 
mind that conventional wisdom would have them struggling in this part of their 
relationship, taking a year or more to build back what those bad years had cost 
them. Abby trusted John completely. And he trusted her. Before they fell asleep, 
John rolled on his side and studied her. "Have I told you lately
33 ..."
The moonlight played across his face, and she smiled. "Yes . . you've told me."
"You know what I liked best about tonight?" She inched onto her side so they 
were facing each other. "The dance?" 40 KAREN KINGSBURY More He chuckled soft 
and low. "Always that. But you know what else?" What? "It made me forget about 
coaching. Even just for a night." A pain sliced through her heart. "It's that 
bad?" "Worse." His smile faded. In its place was a look that was more sad than 
frustrated. "Know what I read in the paper yesterday?"
"What?" "Some high-school basketball player's parents are suing his coach for 
seven million dollars." "Seven million?" Abby propped her elbow up on the 
pillow. "For what?" "For costing the kid his chance at an NBA career." "What?" 
The story didn't make sense. "How is that the coach's fault?" "Because-was John 
drew a slow breath-by the coach put the kid on JV instead of varsity." Abby 
gasped. "You're kidding, right?" "No." John's chuckle was so sad it almost broke 
Abby's heart. "I'm serious. That's what it's come to, Abby. Sometimes I don't 
think I'll survive the season." "I'm sorry."
She moved her elbow and let the side of her face rest on the pillow. "I wish 
there was something I could do." "I keep thinking about that note. How one of my 
player's parents wants me fired badly enough to go to the district level to see 
it happen." He rolled onto his back again. "Me? Letting players drink and race 
their cars? Don't they know me at all? Don't they appreciate what I've done for 
that school since I've been there?" The pain in Abbys heart spread to her soul. 
How could they possibly attack this man's character? If she could, she would 
walk into the school, take over the public address system, and tell the entire 
school population that Coach Reynolds did not and never would have done anything 
unethical where his players were concerned. She would demand they recognize his 
efforts and treat him with the respect and gratitude he deserved. 41
Illill'eaI ililll like id
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II'L'LLLLLL Us A TIME TO EMBRACE But she couldn't do that. She couldn't even 
write a letter on his behalf, though she wanted to. Badly. "There's only one 
thing I can do, John. But it's
34 the most important thing of all."
"Pray?" He turned his head so he could see her again. "Exactly." She ran her 
fingertips lightly through his hair. "Pray that God shows you how much the kids 
still love you, the kids who wouldn't play ball for any other coach."
"Okay." He smiled, and for the first time since he'd brought up the topic, his 
features relaxed. "You pray. It's only because of your prayers that I've coached 
there this long." "You know what I think?" She laid her head on John's shoulder 
and snuggled close to him. "My season's falling apart?"
"No." She rested her hand above his heart. "I think something very big's about 
to happen."
"Like we win three games straight?" "No, again." Abby gave a muffled laugh. 
"Something spiritual. Like God's got something major going on. Maybe that's why 
the season's starting so rough. We may not see how all the pieces fit right now. 
But maybe we'll see it soon. You know?" John was quiet. "You awake?"
"Yeah. Just thinking." His chest rose as he inhaled. "I'd forgotten about that." 
"About God having a plan?" "Mmmhmm." He hesitated. "It must be that." "Yep. And 
whatever it is, it's going to be huge." "How do you know?"
"It's something I feel."
"Oh. Okay." John's breathing was slower, his words running together the way they 
did just before he fell asleep. "I'm sorry" "For what?" 42 KAREN KINGSBURY Us 
"For stepping on your feet tonight." "That's okay. We have another lesson next 
week." "I love you, Abby. G'night." "Goodnight ... I love you, too." She drifted 
off to sleep, her head still on john's shoulder, her mind filled with a dozen 
happy memories from the evening. Andwiththe increasing sense that somehow, 
someway, God was up to something very big at Marion High School. Something that 
involved football and parents and most especially her wonderful husband. Coach 
John Reynolds. 43 Jill lillll
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NICOLE WAS AFRAID.
There was no other way to say it. After the whirlwind weekend with Kade home, 
she wasn't merely
35 tired; she was exhausted. Too exhausted.
Now it was Wednesday, and she and Matt had plans to eat dinner out. But as 
Nicole slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater, her arms and legs felt like 
they were made of lead. Every movement was a colossal effort.
It couldn't be the flu. She didn't have a fever or a cough or an upset stomach. 
She raised the zipper and studied her reflection in their bathroom mirror. Pale 
. . . ashen, even. True her summer tan had faded, but Nicole couldn't remember 
her face ever looking this white.
She sighed. Maybe the events of the past few months had finally caught up to 
her. After the honeymoon they'd come home and immediately helped Matt put 
together his resume for a position with the district attorney's office. Now that 
he was hired, Nicole was knee-deep in studies, trying to balance running their 
home with the demands of being a college senior.
On top of that, there were constant discussions with Matt about KAREN KINGSBURY 
cMore his parents' impending yearlong missionary trip. And then there was her 
younger brother Kade. Last week, when he was home, something about him had been 
different. Older maybe, quieter. He was anxious to get playing time at the 
University of Iowa and he had a lot on his mind. On Sunday night he stopped by 
Matt and Nicole's apartment. They talked until 3 A.m. about whether he'd made a 
mistake taking the scholarship at Iowa when he'd rather be playing closer to 
home at Illinois. "It's too far away," Kade said an hour into the conversation. 
Matt had gone to bed back at the beginning, leaving Nicole and Kade in the 
living room. Kade had tossed his hands in the air. "I feel like I'm on another 
planet." He sat on the floor, his back against the wall. "It's only a day's 
drive from here." Nicole didn't want him pulling out of Iowa just because he was 
homesick. "It's always hard the first semester." "Yeah, but Dad's been my coach 
forever, Nic." His knees were up, legs wide apart the way he always sat when 
they'd had these conversations over the years. "I'd at least like to see him in 
the stands, you know?" He rested his forearms on his knees. "This was the first 
weekend he and Mom have been to a game." Nicole could see his point. "Why didn't 
you consider Illinois before? They sent you a letter didn't they?" "Yeah." Kade 
frowned. "A bunch of letters. I thought being away from home would
36 be fun." "Maybe it will be. You've only been there two months." "I know ... 
but now I want to be here. Does that make sense?" The discussion went in circles 
that way until the only thing Nicole could tell him was what he wanted to hear. 
"Transfer, then." She muttered a tired laugh. "We'd love to have you closer, 
bud. Then we could have these talks every weekend." Kade grinned. "Just like the 
old days." "Right. Just like the old days." Memories of the discussion faded and 
Nicole checked the mirror 45
1 11
1 11 1, I, I
Illiilli
Iffiealllll ililill lli be A TIME TO EMBRACE once more. The morning after their 
late talk, she'd had class at eight o'clock. Every hour of the day and night had 
been booked since then. No wonder she was tired. Her body was merely trying to 
catch up. Unless ...
Nicole swallowed hard and turned from the mirror. She put a quick spritz of 
perfume on her neck. Don't think about it . . . x'c impossible. But her mind 
refused to change the topic. Especially in light of the one memory that wouldn't 
go away.
It had happened three weeks after their honeymoon. They'd agreed to wait three 
or four years before having children, so birth control was a must. By waiting, 
Nicole could finish school and find a teaching job. She would teach two years 
and then take a decade off to have babies. When the kids were in school, she'd 
resume teaching. That way she could be with them after school and miss almost 
none of their at-home family time.
That was the ten-year plan, anyway. And they'd intended to follow it to the 
letter. All of which meant being very careful. Not only because of the ten-year 
plan, but because of something else. Something she hadn't wanted to share with 
anyone. Something she couldn't voice even to herself.
They'd talked about birth control pills, but Nicole was concerned about the side 
effects. In the end they decided to use condoms instead. "You probably learned 
about condoms in school," the doctor told Nicole when she was in for a checkup 
just before her wedding day. "We did. They're one of the safest ways to prevent 
pregnancy, right?"
The doctor chuckled. "Not hardly." He gave her a crooked grin. "Every month 
someone whose husband used a condom comes into my office pregnant."
37 Nicole had been surprised, but also fairly certain the doctor was 
exaggerating. Obviously condoms worked or they wouldn't sell them. Still, there 
was that one time ...
Late that night, just weeks after their honeymoon, in the moments 46 KAREN 
KINGSBURY very a after being physically intimate, Matt had come out of the 
bathroom with a strange look on his face. "What's wrong?" Nicole had sat up in 
bed, holding the sheet to herself. "I think it broke." Matt ran his fingers 
through his hair and shook his head. "I thought that only happened in the 
movies." A wave of alarm came over Nicole and then passed. There was no way it 
broke. "Maybe it just looked that way." Matt climbed back into bed. "Let's hope 
so." Now, ten weeks later, the conversation came back to Nicole every few hours. 
Not just because she was more tired than usual, but because she hadn't had a 
period since before her wedding. She'd heard her mother talk about being 
pregnant before, how she'd known from the moment of conception-known without a 
doubt-that a new life had begun to grow within her. Nicole had searched for such 
signs, but there'd been nothing. Her period had always been irregular. Sometimes 
she'd missed three months in a row before it showed up again. So there wasn't 
any real reason to think she might be pregnant. Was there...? The bedroom door 
opened and Nicole jumped. Matt stuck his head inside. "Ready?" "Sure." She 
forced a smile. "I'll be right down." She was quiet through dinner, and finally 
when Matt was finished eating, he pushed his plate away and looked at her. 
"Okay, Nic. What's wrong?" "Nothing." Her answer was too quick. She stared at 
her food. More than half her cheeseburger was still untouched. Her eyes lifted 
and found his again. "I'm fine." "You're not fine. You've been sleeping late and 
going to bed early. You yawn all the time and hardly have any appetite." Matt's 
voice was gentle, but concerned. "I'm worried about you." Her gaze fell again. 
She pushed a fork through the small dish of beans beside the burger. The food 
looked old and uninteresting. A 47
I Ill IlI III
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III III! More A TIME TO EMBRACE sigh slipped from her lips. It was time. If they 
were
38 going to build a marriage of closeness and trust, she couldn't keep her fears 
from him another minute.
"Okay." Drawing a quick breath, she looked at him once more. "I think I might be 
pregnant."
She had expected him to look shocked, even upset by her statement. After all, a 
baby now would mean their plan was out the window. Instead, Matt's face lit up 
like a Christmas tree. "Nicole? Are you serious?"
"Matt-was she lowered her head so people at the other tables wouldn't hear 
her-by it's too soon. You can't be excited about this."
His face went blank for a moment, then he let loose a single, quiet laugh. "Yes, 
I can. Babies are a miracle, honey. Whenever they come." Her heart dropped to 
her socks. His enthusiasm made the entire possibility seem more real. What if 
she really was pregnant? How could she be a mother when she hadn't finished 
college? And what about her worst fears, the ones she couldn't admit even to 
herself? Question after question assaulted her until she felt Matt's hands on 
hers. "Sweetheart, I don't get it. You're upset because you think you might be 
pregnant?"
"Yes!" Nicole felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "We wanted to wait four 
years, remember?"
"Sure." He sat back a bit and blinked. "But if you're pregnant now, there's no 
point being upset. God will work out the details." He took her fingers in his. 
"Besides, maybe you're not. We've been careful." "Yeah, but what about that one 
night? When you thought it broke?" A knowing look filled Matt's eyes. "You think 
that's when it ..." "Maybe. The doctor told me it happens all the time." She 
dropped her head back for a moment and then found his eyes again. As she did, 
two tears slid down her cheeks. "I didn't believe him." "Okay." Matt took her 
hand. "But, honey, you've always said you can't wait to be a mother. So why ... 
are you crying? I mean, our plan can be adjusted, can't it?" 48 KAREN KINGSBURY 
Ma "I guess." "Then ... why the tears, honey? I don't get it." Nicole wanted to 
climb across the table and hug him. He was such a good guy, so full of love for 
her and the future family they would one day raise. She steadied herself and 
decided to tell him her fears. The ones that had kept her up at night even when 
she desperately
39 needed to sleep. "I guess I'm afraid." Empathy filled in the lines on Matt's 
worried face. "Of what?" Nicole sat back and took a sip of water. "Remember last 
year? When we were planning the wedding?" "Of course." Matt studied her, his 
body halfway across the table as he leaned toward her. "Something was wrong with 
my parents' marriage." Nicole gave Matt's fingers a gentle squeeze. "I think I 
told you I was worried about them." "Right. You prayed for them, and as we 
checked into the hotel the night of our wedding, you felt the Lord had answered 
your prayers. That everything was going to be okay." Nicole nodded. "I've 
thought about it a lot since then and I've decided maybe ... just maybe their 
marriage isn't all it seems to be. You know?" "Okay." Matt looked as lost as a 
child alone at the zoo. "So ..." "So I think I've figured it out."
"Figured it out?" "Yes." Nicole stared at him. "The reason why my parents aren't 
really happy like I thought they were." Matt blinked again. "Just a month or so 
ago you told them they looked like newlyweds." "That was before I put the pieces 
together. It was something your mother said at dinner one night." Nicole 
released his fingers and sat back. If only he could understand. "Now I think I 
know the problem." "Which is ... "I was a honeymoon baby, remember?"' Couldn't 
Matt see it? She worked to make her tone patient. "They had kids too early." 49
ill
. nl be A TIME TO EMBRACE "Sorry,
Nic." This time Matt sat back and crossed his arms. "I don't get it."
"How can you not get it?"' Nicole held her hands out palms up. "My parents never 
got those crucial years, the years when the two of them could have bonded and 
built their love." Matt looked at her for a moment. Then he stood and eased 
himself around the table and slid onto the bench seat beside her. He placed his 
arm over her shoulders and pulled her up against him. "I have the surest sense 
that you're wrong, Nicole. Your parents love each other very much. Having 
children early in their marriage hasn't hurt that. Not then or now."
Her husband's nearness, the warm shelter of his arm around her, made everything 
somehow better. Her defenses fell like autumn leaves. Maybe
40 Matt was right, but this was something Nicole had thought about ever since 
they'd been back from the honeymoon. "You don't think it hurt them?"'
"No." He kissed the side of her face and smoothed her hair back behind her ears. 
"But if it worries you, why don't you ask your mother? She'll tell you the 
truth."
Ask her mother? Why hadn't Nicole thought of that? Rather than imagining the 
reasons her parents had struggled last year, it couldn't hurt to come out and 
ask. She shifted her position so she could see Matt more clearly. "Okay. I'll do 
that."
"Now, how "bout we pay this bill and do some shopping before we go home. I think 
there's a little something we have to get before another day goes by."
Nicole's heart was lighter than it had been in weeks. With God on her side and a 
husband like Matt, everything was going to be okay. "What's that?"
He grinned. "A pregnancy test." 50 THE INFORMATION WAS ALL THERE, ON THE
INTERNET. Whatever research Abby had done for her article could easily be 
supplemented with information from the Web. She signed on and waited for the 
connection. She'd been so busy catching up from the weekend with Kade that she 
hadn't had time to work on her coaching article until late that evening. Last 
night she might have had a few hours, but John needed the computer. He had to 
look up some new Internet site that gave coach's tips and defensive tricks. John 
had heard about it from one of the other coaches. Abby hadn't minded. She had 
plenty of time to pull the article together. The screen danced to life and a 
digital voice announced, "You've got mail." For the briefest instant she 
remembered how badly she'd looked forward to those words a year ago. Back when 
she and John were speeding in opposite directions, headed straight for divorce. 
She'd been E-mailing an editor almost daily, a man who wanted to spend time with 
her. If she hadn't found John's journal after Nicole's wedding, hadn't
I'IIIIIEALILILJ I Illlllllil 'lllllll
IIII IIIIIIII IffI Us A TIME
TO EMBRACE read it and learned the real way he felt about their marriage and the 
mistakes he'd made, she might never have forgiven him. In fact right now she 
might be in the midst of a full-blown relationship with the editor. The thought 
turned Abby's
41 stomach. She let it pass as quickly as it had come. These days her E-mail was 
almost all business related. She was working with several new magazines and 
keeping her relationships with editors at a strictly functional level. 
Occasionally there'd be an E-mail from a friend or a forward from one of the 
women at church. But that was about it.
And even though John was spending more time on the computer, he never got 
E-mail. He merely surfed the Web for football strategies and plays he hadn't 
thought of before. Once in a while he'd check out a site with ranch property for 
sale and report to Abby that they should buy a hundred-acre piece in northern 
Montana. But he was only kidding, only looking for a way to ease the tension 
brought on by the football season. Abby clicked the mailbox and immediately a 
list of mail appeared. There was more than usual, and it took a moment for her 
to scan the list. Something from a new magazine, three from her current editors, 
then . . .
Her heart stopped.
The next E-mail on the list had a subject line that read, @More excitement than 
you can imagine!" It was from someone named Candy at a Web site called Sexyfun.
Abby's heart thudded hard and resumed beating, twice as fast as before. Her eyes 
did a quick check down the rest of the list and there were five more E-mails 
like it. All from girls at Web sites with similar names as the first.
Her mind screamed it wasn't so. It couldn't be. Everywhere she turned someone 
was talking about Internet pornography. She and John had talked about the 
phenomenon, but neither of them had really understood the fascination. There was 
no way John had been accessing pornographic sites, was there? He'd been on the 
Internet, yes. But only to look at coaching sites, right? 52 KAREN KINGSBURY 
More There was one way to find out. Abby maneuvered her mouse through a series 
of clicks until a list of Web sites appeared on her screen. The last fifty sites 
that had been accessed by their computer. The most recent were three that were 
clearly football related. But beyond that the list was horrendous. Names of Web 
sites Abby could barely read let alone utter out loud. She closed her eyes. God, 
no ... don't let this be happening. Please. After all she and John had been 
through, as much as he seemed to be in love with her ... he couldn't be turning 
to pornography. It was
42 impossible. Yet, what other explanation was there? They were the only two 
people who used the Internet on this computer, other than Sean. And he only used 
it for homework. Abby thought back. It had been at least a month since Sean had 
been anywhere near the computer.
So that meant ... "No, God! I can't take it." She covered her face with her 
hands. Dealing with her husband's fascination with another woman had been one 
thing. But this? You pulled us through that time, God ... so why this? Why now? 
She waited, but there were no reassuring utterances in her soul, no verses that 
came to mind. Only an awful empty pit in her stomach, a pit that grew larger 
with each passing moment. She opened her eyes and looked at the list. Maybe they 
weren't porn sites. Maybe they were coaching sites with stupid names. Yes, that 
had to be it. A thin veil of perspiration broke out across Abby's nose and 
forehead. She felt faint, desperate, terrified. Her heart couldn't take the 
shock, couldn't believe the list of Web site names staring back at her. There 
was only one way to find out. She picked the first one, something about naked 
girls, and clicked the link. Let it be coaching information ... defensive plays 
... anything butA picture began to take shape and Abby gasped. Immediately she 
found the It in the upper right corner and closed the window. It 53
More A TIME TO EMBRACE wasn't coaching plays; it was exactly what one would 
expect to see on a Web site with that name. Pornography. Somehow in the midst of 
his distress and discouragement, John had used his late-night hours on the 
Internet to click his way into a seedy underworld of sin. Anger bubbled up from 
Abby's gut and filled her with a burning rage. How dare he ...
She shut down the computer and spun her computer chair toward the dark window. 
The moon was only a sliver that night, but Abby stared outside anyway. What was 
he thinking? They'd been doing so well, enjoying each other both as friends and 
lovers. How could heThen another thought hit her.
Maybe that's will have you he had enjoyed their physical love so much lately . . 
. maybe he wasn't thinking about Abby at all, but these ... these ... Nausea 
welled within her and she wondered if she would be sick to her stomach. How dare 
he sleep upstairs like nothing was wrong, when all the while he was keeping this 
terrible secret from her? And how could her body, her love ever compare with the 
images on his
43 computer screen? The array of emotions assaulting her was almost too much to 
bear. Sorrow ... fury ... regret. She'd trusted him, after all. Believed him 
that he wanted to be like the eagle-strong by her side until death parted them. 
Why in the world, then, would he begin experimenting with pornographic Web 
sites? Especially when he knew from friends of theirs how addictive and 
destructive they could be?
For more than an hour Abby sat there, her stomach in knots, until finally she 
went upstairs and studied her husband. Last year she'd had no trouble knowing 
John was interested in another woman. His distance, the hours he was gone from 
home, the strange phone calls. The signs had all been there. But this ... this 
pornographic thing? He'd been masterful at hiding this. Abby blinked in the 
dark, sickened by the innocence on his face.
She lay down on the far edge of their bed, turned her back to him, and fell 
asleep. But not before two simple thoughts filled her mind ... 54 KAREN 
KINGSBURY Us How could they possibly stay together now? And most of all, why 
hadn't she been enough for him? The game that Friday was away, and John's Eagles 
won with a lastminute field goal.
Rumors were spreading about the players who drank and took part in the street 
races. It was so bad John could almost hear the parents whispering about him. 
"Coach Reynolds isn't the man we thought he was .. "We need a man with better 
moral character than that .. Of course the real reasons were as obvious as his 
record. The Eagles had only won three games. A dismal feat considering the hopes 
everyone had once held for this team. Winning had a way of shutting up the 
critics. Lose and a coach immediately became fair game. The stands were rife 
with parents who would have run on fourth down or passed the ball on first. 
People whose sons didn't play much were the worst. Most of them figured the team 
would win if only their boys were in the mix. Those whose sons did play had 
another answer: poor coaching. Either way the bad start this season fell on 
john's head. As John boarded the team bus back to Marion that night, he felt 
only a small amount of relief from the victory. Jake Daniels's head hadn't been 
in the game no matter what John tried to do to inspire him. John had seen Jake's 
new Integra NSX.
The entire school was talking about it. Rumor had it Jake was looking to race it 
as soon as football
44 season was finished. John stared out the dirty window of the bus and gritted 
his teeth. What was Jake's father thinking, getting the boy a car like that? How 
was a teenager supposed to focus on his studies and his role as quarterback with 
a racecar sitting in the parking lot? Not only that, but Jake and Casey and a 
handful of players had stepped up their teasing against Nathan Pike and his 
gothic friends. 55
I. cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE John had told the administration about Nathan's awful, 
scribbled words-death to jocks. Apparently the principal had pulled Nathan into 
the office and questioned him. Nathan acted calm and casual. "It's a song, man." 
He shook his head at the principal. "You people are so out of touch."
The principal could do nothing but believe Nathan and issue him a warning. Song 
or not, he wasn't to be writing death threats on his notebook. Nathan agreed, 
and the incident passed. At least as far as the administration was concerned.
The reality was something else altogether. Nathan and his dark friends had 
gotten more hateful, more distant. At the same time, the cruel, arrogant remarks 
from Jake and Casey and the others had only come with more frequency. At times 
there was so much tension between the two groups, John felt certain the 
situation was about to erupt. Several times he'd pulled Jake and Casey aside and 
said something, but always their answer was the same: "We're just playin' 
around, Coach."
Their parents didn't seem to care whether their sons were bullying kids like 
Nathan Pike. They were too worried about the Eagles winloss record, too 
concerned with whispering and rumoring and getting John fired, filling the 
stands with enough negative energy to kill the rest of the season.
No wonder Abby hadn't wanted to go tonight. Until this one, she hadn't missed a 
game since the season began. John had been in a hurry when he breezed home, 
grabbed his coaching bag, and headed back out for the game.
"You're going, right?" He went to plant a quick kiss on her lips, but at the 
last second she turned and it landed on her cheek instead. The gesture had 
seemed odd, but John hadn't had time to dwell on it. He had a bus to catch.
"Not tonight." She'd seemed distracted. In fact, she'd seemed that way since 
Thursday morning. Not angry, exactly. Just ... distant. The bus ride seemed 
longer than usual, and John
45 settled back in his 56 KAREN KINGSBURY
Us seat. What was eating her anyway? He thought for a moment, then it hit him. 
It must have been her magazine article. Sometimes she got quiet right before 
deadline on a big piece. The best solution, he'd found, was to let her be. Give 
her as much time and space as possible to get her work done, then she'd be fine. 
Still, he'd missed her tonight. It was always better coaching from the sidelines 
knowing Abby was there somewhere behind him in the stands. Everyone else might 
complain about him, but Abby would have cheered. Especially tonight, since they 
pulled out a win. John stretched. Enough of the negative thoughts. Jake Daniels 
... Nathan Pike ... the complaining parents. All of it was only part of a 
passing season. He would pray for the kids and look for opportunities to reach 
them. But everything about Marion High was something he was learning to leave 
behind when he finished up for the day. Life was too short to bring his troubles 
home. Especially when things with Abby were so unbelievably wonderful. It was 
nearly eleven when he walked in the house. The lights were out. Abby must have 
finished writing and gone to bed. John shut the door behind him and took three 
steps. Then he heard her voice. "John ... I'm in here." He squinted into the 
dark and flipped on the light in the entryway. "Abby? What are you doing?" 
"Praying." She paused. "Come here, will you? We need to talk." He wasn't sure if 
he should feel honored or concerned. She'd obviously waited up for him to come 
home, intent on talking to him. But there was nothing light about her tone. He 
set down his bag and took the chair opposite her. "What's up?" "Th." Moving like 
an old woman, Abby reached down and picked up a piece of paper from the floor. 
"I found it a few days ago, but it took me a while to know how to bring it up." 
Bring it up? What was she talking about? He took the paper, and in the 
half-light from the foyer, he stared at its contents. In no time he could see 
what it was, and it turned his stomach. 57
Quite A TIME TO EMBRACE "Where'd this come from?" He brought the page closer to 
his face so he could read it clearly.
It was a list of pornographic-type sites.
One after another after another. Probably twenty of them in all. John glanced up 
the page and saw their E-mail address listed at the top. Suddenly he understood. 
Abby was here, waiting in the dark, because she'd found this list on their 
computer Internet log and
46 wanted an explanation.
The whole time he'd been looking at the list, Abby had said nothing. Now John 
lifted his eyes to her, his heart racing. "You got this off our computer?"
"Yes." Her arms were folded tight against her waist. "You're the only other 
person who uses the computer besides me, John." Her voice broke. "Obviously we 
need to talk."
He wanted to scream at her. Did she honestly think he was visiting porn sites in 
his spare time? That with everything going on at school andwiththe team, he 
could possibly be crazy enough to get involved with Internet smut? When he was 
married to the only woman he'd ever loved? The idea was outrageous.
"You think I looked up these sites?" He planted his fingertips on his chest.
"What am I supposed to think?"
John wadded the paper up and threw it against the wall. Then he stood and paced 
a few steps in either direction. "Abby, are you out of your mind? I've never 
looked at a pornographic Web site in my life." His tone was sharper than his 
words. "How could you think such a thing?" "Don't lie to me, John." Clearly she 
was as angry as he, but she stayed in her chair. "You've been on the Internet 
more often than usual and always at night. Why?"
He stared at her, stunned. "You really doubt me, don't you? After all we've been 
through, you still don't trust me."
"I did trust you." She lowered her voice, but her intensity remained. "But I 
trusted you three years ago, too. Back when you and Charlene were spending every 
morning together." 58 KAREN KINGSBURY Us He felt the blood drain from his face. 
"That's not fair, Abby, and you know it." John bent at the waist, firing his 
words at her. "We were both wrong back then, but those days are behind us. 
Remember?" "I thought so, too." The fight left her voice. "Until I found that 
list." She might as well have slapped his face. Wounded and furious and not sure 
what to say, John fell back into the chair and buried his head in his hands. 
"You don't know me any better than the parents of my players." Abby was silent, 
and for a moment neither of them said anything. There had to be an explanation 
for the sites. Abby obviously hadn't looked them up, but neither had he. And how 
dare she accuse him even after he'd denied having anything to do with them. God, 
give me the words
47 here ... how can Abby doubt me on this?
Love is not easily angered ... The holy response flashed across the scoreboard 
of his mind and took the edge off his temper. His shoulders slumped, and he 
shook his head. Of course Abby didn't believe him. After the times he'd spent 
with Charlene ... the lies he'd told Abby when their marriage was unraveling ... 
For the first time since their reconciliation, John realized something he hadn't 
before. It would take years before either of them would feel completely secure 
again. No matter how good things were between them. Sin always had consequences. 
Abby's doubts about him now were one of those. She broke the silence first. 
"Aren't you going to say anything? I've been carrying this around for two days 
wondering why I'm not enough for you." She was crying now. Not angry sobs or 
out-of-control weeping, but small, soundless cries that strangled his heart. 
John dropped to the ground and crawled on his knees until he was up against her 
legs. "Abby . . ." His words were calm, quieter than before. He lifted her chin 
so she'd have to look at him. "I promise you with everything I have, I didn't do 
this. I've never looked at a porn site. Not ever." 59
Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her 
cheeks. Nothing came from her mouth, but John could see it in her eyes. Doubt 
... fear ... concern. Thoughts that somehow it was happening again, that their 
marriage was falling apart. God ... please give me wisdom. There has to be an 
answer. Two seconds passed, then a third, and suddenly he knew the answer. The 
realization brought him as much pain as it did relief. The explanation was bound 
to satisfy Abby, but it left them with a problem neither of them had 
anticipated.
"Did you forget?" Their eyes were still locked. "Kade was here last weekend. He 
stayed with us through Monday afternoon." It took a moment for the information 
to register. As it did, John could see his wife's expression shift. Like melting 
wax, her face softened and her anger fell away. In its place was a sadness and 
guilt so raw it was painful to look at. Nearly a minute passed before Abby 
opened her mouth. "Kade?"
"He was here. I'm not sure if he was on the computer, but he must've been. 
Because-was he met her eyes squarely-by the only thing I looked at were coaching 
sites. I ... found three of them." Abby stared into the night, her eyes distant. 
After a long while, she lifted her gaze back to John's.
48 "Sunday night he was with Nicole. But
Saturday ... Saturday he was here. He didn't get to sleep until after one 
o'clock because I got up and ..." John caught her hands in his. "And what?"
"I came down for a drink of water." Tears flooded her eyes. "He was on the 
computer. I
I. . . I didn't realize it until I was halfway up the stairs and heard the 
clicking sounds. I completely forgot about that." There was nothing for John to 
say. Abby's doubts cut to his core, but he couldn't deny they were deserved. 
Thankfully, Internet pornography was not something he'd ever even considered. 
Still, he could hardly be upset with Abby for thinking it possible.
"John . . ." She took his face in her hands and searched his eyes. "I'm so 
sorry. How could I have thought?" 60 KAREN KINGSBURY cUs "Shh, Abby. Don't." He 
lay his head against hers and stroked her hair. "It's my fault. If I hadn't let 
you down in the past, you never would've wondered." "But I'm such a jerk." Her 
tears became sobs, and she clung to John as though her next breath depended on 
his being there. "Why didn't I ask you first? Instead of accusing you?" "It's 
okay." Peace flooded his heart. This was his Abby, fighting for their marriage, 
determined to let go of the past. What he'd seen when he came home was merely a 
momentary lapse in trust, the kind of thing that was bound to happen in light of 
the trials they'd weathered. "Of course you're going to have doubts, honey. It's 
over with. Let it go." Abby struggled to sit up, her eyes bloodshot, her breaths 
quick and jerky. "I never want to doubt you again, John Reynolds." She sniffed 
and shook her head. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "It's not okay. 
What we have is too precious to waste it doubting each other." She was right. 
There was no way they could build on the love and joy of the past few months 
without trust. Suddenly he wondered if this was the first time. "Have you had 
doubts before this? About me, I mean?" "No, I-was She started to shake her head 
but she stopped herself, "Well ... sometimes." She took a quick breath. For a 
long time she said nothing. "I guess I wonder if someday another Charlene will 
move into the picture, or if I'll be enough for you. Pretty enough ... smart 
enough. Young enough." If he hadn't already been on his knees, her admission 
would have sent him there. "You were always enough. It wasn't you; it was life. 
Time. Busyness. We let too much
49 come between us." "I know." Her voice was calmer, more controlled. "But the 
Charlenes of this world will always be there." "Never again, Abby. Remember the 
eagle?" Abby tilted her head. "Kade's English paper. He wrote how the eagle 
mates for life ... clings to its mate, even falling with her to his death rather 
than letting go." 61
Illeail' 11 I to by I
'I 1111 all
Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE "Right." John worked his fingers up her arms to the sides 
of her face. "I'm clinging like I never did before." He leaned forward and 
kissed her forehead. "Nothing could make me let go of you. Nothing." She slid to 
the edge of the chair and hugged him. "I believe you. I've believed you since 
Nicole's wedding. The doubts are just ... I don't know, stupid I guess."
He searched his heart and knew there was something else. If he was going to be 
completely honest, he had to tell her his thoughts as well. "You're not the only 
one."
She pulled back enough to see his eyes. "Not the only one?" "With stupid 
doubts." A softness settled over her eyes. "Really?" "Really." John let his gaze 
drop for a moment before looking up again. Things had been going so well between 
him and Abby, he hadn't wanted to admit his fleeting thoughts. Not even to 
himself. "I wonder sometimes what would've happened if I hadn't come back the 
night of Nicole's wedding. I mean, there I was, packed to leave for good. Only 
God could have made me stop the car and come back." He bit his lip. "But what if 
I hadn't come? Would you be dating that editor or having some sort of Internet 
relationship with him?" "I never should have let you go." She slipped her 
fingers through his hair, her eyes shining. "Then you wouldn't have to wonder." 
"I don't worry about you now. Just the past and where we might be if I hadn't 
come back."
Abby rested her head against his once more, and they held each other. A long 
while later, Abby fell back into the chair again. "We still have a problem, 
though, don't we?"
John could read her soul as easily now as he had back when she was a teenager. 
"Kale?"
"Kade." Her eyes narrowed, less in anger than confusion. "Why would he do that, 
John? That's not how we raised him. That garbage will strangle the life out of 
him." "I'll talk to him." 62
50 Will KAREN KINGSBURY Us "On the phone? What if he denies it?" She was right. 
This called for more than a phone call. "They have a bye coming up the second 
week in November. Let's fly him home. I'll talk to him then." "What if he's 
addicted? It happens all the time." Abby hesitated. "I wish we didn't have to 
wait." "We don't have to." John took her hands in his again. This time he folded 
them within his. "We can do something right now." Then with hearts and hands 
linked in a way that filled Johns being, they bowed their heads and prayed for 
their older son. That he would be honest about the Internet sites he'd looked 
into. That he would be willing to discuss the issue with John. And that together 
they could eliminate the problem. Before it was too late. 63
PERKY PAULA WAS GOING TO KICK
THEM OUT FOR SURE. Abby could tell the moment she saw Jo and Denny at the 
gymnasium door. It was the first Saturday in November, and Abby had invited 
Nicole's in-laws-as if John dancing on her feet wasn't enough humor for the 
hour. They'd agreed to meet at the entrance. Abby wore a dress, and John, nice 
pants and a khaki button-down. Church clothes. It was ballroom dancing, after 
all. In Abby's mind that connoted elegance and taste. Even with her husband 
stepping on her toes.
Jo and Denny, on the other hand, looked ready for a country hoedown. Abby would 
have felt sorry for them, except neither of Matt's parents seemed to care how 
they were dressed. Maybe they've never seen ballroom dancing. For that matter it 
was quite possible they'd never seen a ballroom.
Denny wore pointed cowboy boots and a tall black hat. Jo was squeezed into a 
pink-and-black miniskirt with a matching pinkfringed shirt and pink boots.
As they approached, John bent down and whispered in Abby's ear, "Didn't you tell 
them what to wear?" KAREN KINGSBURY Us Abby waved at
Jo as she whispered back, "I thought they'd know." Both couples signed in and 
took their places. Jo fell in place next to Abby. "You sure the teacher won't 
mind us buttin' in and all?" "Positive." John and Denny led the way. "The class 
is an ongoing thing." John shot a quick look at Denny. "Aren't you glad?" Denny 
gave a lopsided grin and twirled his finger in the air. "Barrel of fun, I'm 
sure." "Oh,
51 stop." Jo whacked her husband in the arm. "You love dancin' with me and you 
know it." Paula had been flitting about, connecting with various couples. Now 
she approached Abby and John with a hurried smile. "Welcome back, I see you've 
brought your-was Instantly the smile became a frown as Paula scrutinized Jo and 
Denny. "My goodness-was the muttered comment was just loud enough for them to 
hear-by completely inappropriate." She shook her head and turned to the front of 
the gym. Abby could feel Jo's ire from five feet away. Here we go. Abby took 
John's hand and waited. Jo spun around, her eyebrows furrowed. "That woman has a 
lot of nerve! What's her problem?" "Nothing." John patted Jo on the back. "She 
takes her dancing very seriously." Abby could almost see the hairs rise on Jo's 
neck as she planted her hands on her hips. "I take my fishin' seriously, but you 
won't see me sticking fishhooks in the first-timers over it." The couples lined 
up while Paula worked the tape player. Abby and John positioned themselves next 
to Jo and Denny. Jo hissed in Abby's direction. "Besides, look at her! Dressed 
in tights and a lee-tard at her age!" Denny gave her a discreet nudge. "Jo .. 
"What? She looks ridiculous." Jo shot a laserlike glare at Paula's back. "She 
better not look at me 65
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE like that again or I'll . . . well ..." Jo caught Denny's 
look and relaxed some. "Never mind. Sorry." She shot Abby and John a weak smile. 
"I get a little carried away."
"Right." Denny used his eyes to apologize for his wife. "And water gets a little 
wet."
Abby grinned and squeezed John's hand once more. "Don't worry about it, Jo." She 
gave the woman a tender smile and tried to imagine what Nicole would do in this 
situation. Abby drew a deep breath. "Hey, how's the mission thing going? You 
guys still thinking about a year in Mexico?"'
"Absolutely." The scowl fell from Jo's face. "Can't wait. Those little babies 
need people to love "em, and me and Denny are just the folks." She winked at her 
husband. "Besides, the fishin' down there'll be heavenly. Just like if I died 
and the Lord met me at the pearly gates with a brand new rod and reel."
One of the couples was talking to Paula so they still
52 had a moment before class began. John poked his elbow at Denny. "Watch her 
feet. I had to carry Abby out after our first lesson."
"No!" Jo gave John a slap on the arm.
"The graceful star quarterback from Michigan University? I don't believe it." 
"It's true." Abby winced and laughed at the same time. "My toes are still 
bruised."
"Hey, you seen the kids lately?" Jo gave her shoulders an exaggerated shrug and 
reached her hands over her head in a full-body stretch. The kind usually 
reserved for aerobic classes. Two of the couples near the front of the line 
noticed her and began whispering.
"Uh . . ." Abby tried to remember Jo's question. "Yes. Nicole stopped by 
yesterday." "Well ... what'd you think?"
Denny exchanged a bewildered look with John, as if to say he had no idea what 
his wife was talking about. Again. "Think?" Jo huffed lightly. "About Nicole. 
Isn't she glowing?" 66 KAREN KINGSBURY cMore Abby thought for a moment. "I guess 
I haven't noticed." "Okay, class." Paula clapped her hands. "Everyone in 
position, please. Let's do a quick run-through of the steps we learned last 
week. Ready? And one and two and . . ." The music started. Abby and John lurched 
into action, getting halfway across the gym floor before John waltzed across her 
foot. "Ouch!" Abby tripped a bit and then fell back into step. This time they 
circled the room without incident. "Not bad." She smiled at him. "You're 
maturing quite nicely." John nodded at something behind her. "That's more than I 
can say for Jo and Denny." Abby glanced over her shoulder and nearly tripped. Jo 
and Denny were completely ignoring Paula's lead. Instead they had linked arms 
and were doing a side-by-side, high-stepping country line dance, oblivious to 
the waltzing couples around them. Abby spun back around to face John, eyes wide. 
"Paula's going to kick them out!" "I don't think so." John's eyes sparkled.
"She's been watching them the whole time. She's too shocked to say anything." As 
it turned out, Paula didn't say a word until midway through the lesson. That's 
when Jo let loose a loud "Yeeee-haaaw!" in the middle of a subdued classical 
piece. With that, Paula adjusted her headset and clapped her hands again. "There 
will be no shouting out from the students. Just follow the couple in
53 front of you or I'll have to ask you to leave." Jo gave Paula an angry look, 
opened her mouth, and did it again. "Yeeee-ha-was Denny placed his hand firmly 
over Jo's mouth before she could complete the sound. Abby peered over John's 
shoulder for a better view. "Wow." She worked hard to keep her laughter quiet. 
"The woman's unbelievable." "You invited her." John did a playful roll of his 
eyes. "I could have predicted this." "Come on ... she's just more intense than 
most people." 67
III! III'
I I to A TIME TO EMBRACE "The way a tornado is more intense than a gust of 
wind."
Jo and Denny were two-stepping now, and Denny whispered to her midstep. 
Something close to remorse filled Jo's eyes, and after that she seemed more 
sedate. Abby was awed. Clearly Denny's influence over Jo was considerable.
For the rest of the hour, every time Abby looked at them, they were lost in 
their own world of two-stepping and line dancing. Not once during the session 
did either of them even attempt a ballroom step. When the lesson was over, the 
couples stood outside the gym catching their breath. "I think that teacher had 
something against me." "No ... Do you think so?" Denny looped his arm around 
Jo's neck and pulled her close. He flashed a grin at Abby and John.
"And why was she teachin' us that old-folk style dance? Someone oughta take her 
to a country dance hall and show her how to lighten up a little before she gets 
too caught up in herself and-was
Denny placed his hand over Jo's mouth once again. "What she means is, thanks for 
asking us to come. We had a great time." Abby stifled a giggle. As she did, she 
remembered something. "Hey, what was that you were saying about Nicole earlier?"
Jo started to talk but Denny's fingers muffled the sound. He chuckled and let 
his hand fall. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Thank you." Then she turned to 
Abby. "Just that she's glowing brighter than a rainbow trout if you haven't 
noticed."
Glowing? What was that supposed to mean? "That newlywed look?" John and Denny 
exchanged another curious look.
"No . . ." Jo leaned in as if she had top-secret information. "That glowing 
look."
"Meaning ..." Abby was desperate for Jo to explain herself. She couldn't be 
suggesting ...
54 "Okay." Jo straightened up again.
"Nicole's a honeymoon baby, right?" John shifted his weight and glanced at his 
watch. Abby's signal that the conversation could wait.
"Right, so?" Abby willed the woman to make herself clear. 68 "So--" Jo 
grinned-by honeymoon babies beget honeymoon babies. That's the way it works." 
"Jo, come on." John chuckled. "You don't think Nicole's pregnant?" "Now, now." 
Jo held up her hand and lifted her chin. "You didn't hear that from me." A pit 
formed in Abby's stomach. Certainly if Nicole was pregnant, she wouldn't have 
told Jo and Denny first. Would she? But then, maybe Nicole hadn't said a word. 
Maybe-by Did Matt tell you?" "Nope. Nothing like that. The kids haven't said a 
word." Jo tapped a finger against her temple. "It's just a hunch. That and the 
way Nicole's been glowing." John gave a gentle tug on Abby's arm. She responded 
with a few subtle steps backward. "Well, we need to run. I wouldn't think too 
much about Nicole being pregnant. The kids are planning to wait awhile." "I 
think we all know how plans like that work out, don't we?" Jo looked at Denny. 
But this time there was nothing funny about her tone. In fact, if Abby wasn't in 
such a hurry she would've taken more time with Jo. Because the look she and 
Denny shared was almost sad. The couples bid each other good-bye, but later that 
night Abby couldn't shake what Jo had said. She and John helped Sean with a 
Native American flathouse he had to complete by Monday. When they were done, she 
motioned for John to follow her out back. Without saying a word, they strolled 
hand-in-hand to the pier. When one of them had something on their heart, knowing 
what to do was as instinctive as drawing breath. When they reached the end of 
the pier, they sat on a small bench John had placed there a month ago. Abby 
waited a minute before saying anything, gazing instead at the ribbon of light 
across the water. She loved this lake, loved the fact that they'd lived there 
since the children were young. Way back since their tiny baby daughter Haley Ann 
died suddenly in her sleep. There was never a time when they sat here together 
that Abby didn't remember their second daughter, the one whose ashes they'd 69
I III cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE sprinkled across this very water. Over the years 
they'd come to this spot to share the highs and lows of life. When Abby's mother 
was killed by the Barneveld tornado
55 ... when John's father died of a heart attack ... when John led the Eagles to 
their first state title-and when the parent complaints got to him.
They would sit until words came. Then, when they were done talking, John would 
take her by the hand and sway with her, back and forth. Not the kind of dancing 
that required lessons. Rather the kind that required listening. Leaves rustling 
in the trees beyond the pier, crickets and creaking boards. The whisper of the 
wind. The faint refrains of distant memories. "Can you hear it?" he would ask.
"Mmmm." She would rest her head against his chest. "The music of our lives."
"Dance with me, Abby ... don't ever stop." Abby drew in a long, slow mouthful of 
the cool night air. It tasted of the coming winter, cool and damp. It wouldn't 
be long before they'd have to bundle up on evenings like these. And Abby had a 
feeling there would be several of them, between John's coaching troubles and 
their concerns about Kade.
She turned to John and reached for his hand. He was looking at her, watching 
her. Abby held his gaze for a moment. "I wonder if he'll admit it."
"Probably." John stared out at the water.
"He doesn't usually keep secrets from me." "Yeah, but ..." "I think he'll tell 
me." "I'm nervous about it."
Their fingers were still linked, and John soothed his thumb over the top of her 
hand. "I'm not. He's a good kid, Abby. Whatever he's doing on the Internet ... I 
doubt he's addicted to it." "I know. But what if he gets angry that we know?" 
She tried to will away the knots in her stomach. "Things like this could cause a 
rift KAREN KINGSBURY More between him and us. A rift that could take him away 
from God, even." "Abby ..."
John faced her again and gave her the same look he gave the children whenever a 
bad thunderstorm came up. Calm and confident, gently understanding. "We've 
prayed for that boy since he was born. God's not going to let him go that 
easily." She nodded and something in her stomach relaxed. "You're right." "What 
else?" "You know me too well." "Yep." He flashed her the grin she loved best. 
"So what else?" "Remember that kid you told me about? Nathan Pike?" Her thoughts 
were all over the board tonight, but John wouldn't mind. He was used to 
conversation like this. Random neural firings, he called them. "How could I 
forget him? He's in my class every day." "I don't like it." Abby's heart rate
56 quickened. "He worries me, John. What if he does something crazy?" "He won't. 
Kids like that aren't the ones who buy a gun and go balli stic." John released 
her hand and laced his fingers behind his head. "Nathan wants attention, that's 
all. The gothic look, the casual threatsthose are his way of getting someone to 
finally notice him." "I don't like it." They were quiet again, and overhead an 
eagle swooped low over the water, snagged a fish, and soared over a thicket of 
trees. John watched it disappear. "He must be taking food back to the nest." 
"Probably." Abby leaned her head back. The moon was full tonight, dimming the 
brightness of the stars. Abby felt herself relax. John was right. Everything was 
going to be okay with Kade ... and with Nathan Pike. Even with the football 
team. God would work it out somehow. "You don't think Nicole's pregnant, do 
you?" John stood and stretched, twisting first to the right, then to the left. 
When he was finished, he exhaled hard and held a hand out to Abby. "No, I don't 
think Nicole's pregnant. They want to wait awhile before having kids, remember?"
III i I that III
II il'li 'ilffI Ijlll cE@ A
TIME TO EMBRACE "I know." Abby clutched tightly to his fingers as he pulled her 
to her feet. "But what if Jo's right? Now that I think about it, she has had a 
kind of glow about her."
"Believe me, Abby-was John eased her into his arms-by if our daughter was 
pregnant, she'd tell Matt first, and you second. She's just happy, that's all. 
Who wouldn't be glowing?"
"You're right." Abby hesitated. "But if she was ... wouldn't that be something? 
You and me, grandparents?" John chuckled. "I guess I'd have to be mature then."
Abby studied John's features, the subtle lines across his forehead, the hint of 
gray at his sideburns. "It's weird to think we're getting old." "Weird?" John 
drew her closer. "I don't know; I think it's nice." "Yes." Abby pictured them 
together this way, dancing on the pier, laughing and loving and finding strength 
from each other. "It'll be fun to grow old with you, John Reynolds."
"One day we'll put our rocking chairs out here." "So when we're too tired to 
dance, we can rock?"
57 "Right." The corners of his lips raised, and Abby felt tingles along her 
spine. "Remember our first date?"
"You came with your family for a Michigan football game." He raised his 
eyebrows. "Finally."
"I was seventeen, John." She lowered her chin, remembering the shy girl she'd 
been. Their families had known each other forever, but John was older than her. 
Abby hadn't thought she stood a chance until that pivotal football game. "How 
could I believe that John Reynolds, star quarterback for the Wolverines, wanted 
to date me?"
"I'd been planning it for two years." He traced her jaw line, his eyes locked on 
hers. "I was just waiting for you to grow up." "Now the tables have turned." "Is 
that so?"
"Mmhhmm. Now I'm waiting for you to grow up." Abby sent a playful kick at John's 
foot.
"At least on the dance floor." "I can dance when it matters." He glanced up and 
out at the lake, 72 KAREN KINGSBURY Us g in the beauty of this favorite spot. 
Then, ever so slowly, he began to sway. His gaze fell to hers, as it had so 
often over the years. "Dance with me, Abby." His tender words melted her heart. 
"Always, John."
She moved with him. "Forever and always." She nestled her head against his 
shoulder, drawing strength from each beat of his heart. They moved together to 
the far-off cry of a hawk and the lapping of lake water against their private 
shore. Abby dosed her eyes. What would life be like without her husband? A life 
where they couldn't come to this place, this pier they both loved, the spot 
where their daughter's ashes lay and where they'd shared so much of each other? 
A life where they wouldn't have nights like this one?
It was impossible to imagine. Yet there was no denying they were getting older. 
And one daywhen their years of being grandparents and great-grandparents were 
finished-the music would stop. The dance would be over. It was inevitable. Abby 
pressed her cheek against john's chest once more, savoring his closeness. Thank 
You, God ... thank You for saving us from ourselves. Later that night, before 
she fell asleep, Abby uttered another prayer. One she'd said more often in the 
past few months. God, I've never been more in love with John. Please ... let us 
have a thousand more nights like this one. Please. 73
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I THE CONFRONTATION WAS SET FOR
SATURDAY AFTERNOON. Kade didn't know it, of course, but John had long since had 
the day planned out. The Eagles had won their football game the night before, so 
it was a light practice that Saturday morning. Kade had come along, enjoying the 
chance to catch up with dozens of his former teammates. "Hey, Dad, I think I'll 
go throw a few balls for the freshmen." Kade motioned to the adjacent field, 
where the younger Eagles were practicing.
John watched from his place near the varsity squad. The moment Kade appeared in 
their midst, the freshmen gathered around him, shaking his hand, looking 
awe-struck at his presence. Big college quarterback Kade Reynolds back from 
school.
It was enough to make their week. John's gaze shifted to his older players. 
"Okay. Line up; let's do it again. This time I want you linemen shoulder to 
shoulder. You're a wall, not a picket fence. Let's remember that!"
When the drill was underway, John glanced once more to the other field. Kade was 
throwing passes for the young receivers, airing them out in a way that made even 
John's mouth hang open. The boy had potential, for sure. John couldn't be 
prouder of him. KAREN KINGSBURY cUs Later that day, though, Kade wouldn't be Mr. 
Big-time Athlete. He uld simply be John Reynolds's boy. And the father-son 
conversaion wouldn't be about Kade's talents. Give me the words, God... how 1 
handle this could affect his li fe forever. Two hours later they were at home 
and finished with lunch. Sean needed new soccer cleats, and Abby had arranged to 
take him to the store. That way John and Kade could be alone. When they were by 
themselves, Kade headed for the television. "Ahhh ... Saturday football.
Time to check out the competition." Before he could grab the remote control, 
John cleared his throat.
"Let's take the boat out instead. You and me." Kade hesitated for a moment and 
then shrugged. "Sure. Why not? I can catch the highlights on Sports Center." The 
day was unseasonably warm, as though fall was doing its absolute best to steal a 
few hours from the impending winter. A light cloud layer kept the sun's glare 
down, but there was no rain in the forecast. It was the perfect afternoon for a 
few hours on the lake. They made idle chitchat at
59 first, joking about the time when Sean was four years old. Abby had been at 
the supermarket, and John was in charge of the children. He, Nicole, and Kade 
were playing Frisbee on the grassy hill behind their house, when Sean snuck off, 
donned a life jacket, climbed into their family rowboat, and loosed the 
moorings. By the time John realized Sean was missing, the child had drifted a 
hundred yards out onto the lake. He was standing up in the boat screaming at 
them for help. "I was scared to death." John worked the boat's oars as he 
laughed at the memory. "You thought Sean would drown?" "Are you kidding?" John 
huffed. "He had a life jacket. Besides, he knew how to swim." He winked at Kade. 
"I was scared of your mother. She would've killed me if she'd gotten home and 
found Sean out in the middle of the water by himself" The lake was a private 
one, frequented mainly by the homeowners
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Us A TIME TO EMBRACE whose houses sat along the three-mile shoreline. Today, the 
water had only a few other boats on the far side. John rowed out a bit further 
and then pulled in the paddles.
Kade leaned back and positioned his face toward the thinly veiled sun. "I forget 
how good it feels. Quiet. Peaceful." He sent John a quick grin. "Good idea, 
Dad."
"I can think out here." John hesitated. "Or have a real conversation." It took a 
moment, but Kade sat forward again and met John's gaze. "Something you wanna 
talk about, Dad?" "Actually, there is." "Okay, shoot."
60 John searched his son's features for a sign ... some flicker of apprehension 
or guilt. But Kade's expression was the picture of trusting innocence. John's 
heart tightened. Was Kade so far into this thing that he didn't feel even a hint 
of guilt?
Here Igo, Lord... give me the words. John rested his elbows on his knees and 
looked deep into Kade's eyes. "After your visit last time, your mother and I 
found some questionable Web site addresses on her Internet history page."
Kade's face was blank. "Questionable?" "Well, worse than questionable, really." 
John resisted the urge to squirm. "What I'm saying is, we found a list of 
pornography sites, Kade." "Pornography?" His eyebrows lowered into a but a from 
from like every do Very his A rather every you . . accusing me of checking out 
porn sites?"
Doubts assaulted John. "Look, son.
Your mother thought I'd looked them up. And I know it wasn't me. Obviously it 
wasn't your mother. Sean hadn't been on the computer for a month, and even then 
he has his own screen name that wouldn't allow those types of sites." John 
motioned to himself. "What am I supposed to think?"
For a beat or two, Kade's mouth hung open. John could see the battle in the 
boy's eyes. He wanted to deny it, wanted to yell at John to stay out of his 
business and quit nosing around. But with each passing second, the anger fell 
from his face. In its place was a hodge-podge of 76 KAREN KINGSBURY More 
emotions, led by a strong and undeniable shadow of guilt. It was easy to 
recognize because John had looked that way, himself, not long ago. When Kade 
said nothing, John dropped his voice back to normal. "I'm right, aren't I?" A 
tired sigh slipped from Kade's throat. His gaze fell to his feet. "We need to 
talk about it, son. When did you start doing this?" The boy's shoulders slumped 
and he brought his head up. "I'm not
the only one." He crossed his arms. "All the guys are into it." There was a 
hardness in Kade's features, a defiance almost. It was something John had never 
seen on any of his children, and it frightened him. "That might be true, but 
it's wrong, Kade. You know that better than anyone on your team." Kade tossed 
his hands in the air. "It's like a virtual girlfriend, Dad. Don't you get it?" 
His tone was strained, and he glanced around as though he was searching for
61 a way to make John understand. "No strings, no ties, no sex." His cheeks 
looked hot.
"Well ... not really, anyway." "It's still immoral, son. And for a lot of people 
it becomes an obsession." "Okay, then you tell me what I'm supposed to do? I'm a 
Christian, so I'm not allowed to have sex until I'm married-however many years 
away that is. I'm a football player, so I don't have time for a girlfriend. And 
I don't have any money, even if I did have time." He huffed. "Don't you get it? 
The Internet solves all those problems with a few dicks. It's there whenever I 
feel like it. Besides, it's better than getting some girl pregnant." John wanted 
to scream. "There's nothing better about it." Did Kade really think pornography 
was no big deal? Had the college culture so quickly undermined everything they'd 
taught him? "In God's eyes pornography is every bit as wrong as illicit sex, 
Kade. It's the same thing."
"It's not the same." Kade was angry. "There's no people involved, Dad. Just 
pictures." "Yeah." John leaned back, his heart thudding hard within him. 
"Pictures of people." 77
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Kade was quiet.
The twists in his expression eased some. "They're getting paid for what they do. 
It's their choice." "Listen to yourself, son. You think those women like making 
money that way? Some of them are slaves to the business, handcuffed, threatened, 
forced at gunpoint to do horrific things. Others are runaways, teenagers barely 
old enough to drive, desperate for a way to live on the streets. Some are drug 
users, needing that next hit so badly they'd do anything for it." John paused, 
his tone softer than before. Sadder. "Is that the kind of industry you want to 
support?" "The guys talk about it like it's okay, like there's nothing wrong 
with it." Kade wrung his hands and stared at the floor of the boat again. "Most 
of the time ... it seemed like they were right." "Of course it seemed that way." 
John studied his son, willing him to understand. "That's what the devil wants 
you to think. Oh, it's just a bunch of pictures, no big deal. But pictures like 
that lead somewhere, Kade. Have you thought about that?" He looked up. "What do 
you mean?"
"Still pictures lead to videos ... and pretty soon, even that's not enough." 
Kade flinched, and John's heart fell to his knees. "You're into videos, too?"
62 Kade looked from one side of the lake to the other, and then at John. "Just a 
few times. After practice the guys sometimes get together at one of the dorms. 
They have a bunch of movies, and well ..." The boat might as well have 
disappeared. John felt like a drowning man, buried in a kind of water he could 
not escape. "It's not long before videos aren't enough, either. Then it becomes 
prostitution." "No!" Kade's answer was quick. "I've never done that." "The 
guys?"
Kade hesitated. "A few of them ... once or twice. Before the season started." 
Sweat beaded up across Kade's forehead. "But not me, Dad. I swear!"
The problem was worse than John had dared imagine. Come on, God ... give me 
something profound here. "Pornography is a lie, son."
78 "A lie?" Despite Kade's humbled tone, his expression told John he still 
didn't see the severity of the problem. "Yes, a lie. It makes women look like 
nothing more than sexual objects with no purpose except to please men." John 
cocked his head. "That's a lie, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess." "You guess?" John worked the muscles in his jaw. "Think about 
your sister ... or the girls you've dated. How would you feel if you ran through 
a series of computer clicks and found their naked pictures on the Internet?" 
"Dad!" Kade narrowed his eyes. "How can you say something like that?" "Well . . 
. the girls you're looking at belong to someone, too. They're someone's sister, 
someone's daughter. Someone's mother, in many cases. Someone's future wife. Why 
is it okay to treat them that way?" John grabbed a quick breath. "That's the 
first lie: that a woman is merely a body." Kade looked up. Was he listening more 
closely, or was John merely imagining it? "The second lie is this: true sexual 
satisfaction can come from sinful behavior." John stared at the sky for a 
moment. The clouds were clearing, and suddenly he knew exactly what to say. He 
met Kade's eyes once more. "It might feel good to your body, but not to your 
soul. And it can never come without intimacy." "You mean like actually having 
sex?" "No. Intimacy and sex are totally different things, son. Intimacy ... is 
the bond that God brings about between two married people. It comes from years 
of commitment, of sharing and talking and working through problems. Years of 
getting to know that person better than anyone else in
63 life. A physical relationship with someone like that-that's intimacy. And 
anything less is a lie." Kade leveled his gaze at John. "You mean like you and 
Ms. Denton?" It took several seconds for John to breathe again. Was it possible 
... his 79
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Iql VIII Ilp! be A TIME TO EMBRACE Did Kade know John had nearly gotten involved 
with Charlene Denton? She'd taught at the school with John. For years, though 
they were both married, Charlene would flirt mercilessly with him. After she 
divorced her husband, Charlene found her way to John's classroom often. In the 
year before she moved away, Kade had walked into his father's classroom and 
found him with her more than once, but always John had talked his way out of the 
situation. One time Kade had found them holding hands ... John had lied and said 
he was praying with the woman. As wrong as that had been at the time, John 
always thought Kade had believed him. At least until now.
"What about me and Ms. Denton?" John was desperate, buying time. The look on 
Kade's face told John his son had doubted his father's wrong relationship from 
the start.
"Come on, Dad. She was with you all the time. The guys on the team even talked 
about it. Ms. Denton would come out to practice and stand next to you, she hung 
out in your classroom ... I'm not stupid." John felt like a dying man. "How come 
you never said anything before this?"
"You told me she was just a friend. That she needed your prayers." Kade 
shrugged. "I guess I wanted to believe it."
A breeze drifted over the lake and washed away any pretense John had left. 
"Everything about my friendship with Ms. Denton was wrong. It was a
64 lie, just like pornography's a lie." "So you slept with her?" Kade looked 
like he was about to cry. "No." John considered telling Kade about the two times 
when he and Charlene kissed. But there was no point. That was behind him now. "I 
did things I'm not proud of, son. But I never crossed that line." "So, it's 
true." Kade shook his head. His shoulders slumped forward, and John couldn't 
tell whether the shadows on his face were disgust or despair. "The guys used to 
razz me all the time and I'd tell "em to get lost. My parents were different. 
They loved each other. And now ... all the time ... what a joke." 80 KAREN
KINGSBURY "Ua "Wait a minute, Kade.
That's not fair." "Yes, it is. Porn stuff isn't the only lie. You and Mom are, 
too.
It's all a lie. So, what's the point of-was "Stop!" John leaned forward until 
his knees were touching Kade's. "What your mother and I share is not a lie. We 
struggled, yes. And we came back together stronger than before." He looked 
straight into Kade's eyes, trying to see into his soul. "You know why we drifted 
apart?"
Kade said nothing, his lips tight and pinched. "Because we forgot about being 
intimate. We stopped talking and sharing our hearts with each other. We let life 
an do busy schedules rule our relationship, and because of that we almost walked 
away from a love that, other than God's, is greater than any I know." He uttered 
a single laugh. "No, son, what your mom and I share is as honest as anything 
I'll ever have. Charlene Denton-now that was a lie. And every day I thank God 
for letting me recognize the fact before it was too late. For helping your mom 
and me remember the importance of intimacy." Kade straightened some, his 
eyebrows still knit together with doubt. "So ... you're fine? You and Mom?" 
"We're much better than fine. I think we love each other more now than ever 
before." John took hold of Kade's shoulder with a light grip. "But we're worried 
about you."
"I'm okay." "No, you're not. If you believe the lie now, if you convince 
yourself that satisfaction can be found in visual unrealities, how will you ever 
share intimacy with a real woman?" "That's different." "You'll meet someone one 
day, and she'll want to know about you. Everything about you. If she finds out 
you've had a fascination with porn sites, my guess is she'll drop you like a bad 
pass. What girl wants to measure up to those kinds of
65 images? Besides she wouldn't respect you, not if you see women as nothing 
more than objects, sex slaves." Kade's expression changed. This time John was 
sure about it. The boy was finally listening.
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "Relationships take work, son. Hours and days and years 
of getting close to that person. That's real love, real intimacy. If you train 
your mind to believe that the work isn't important, you'll not only be going 
against every plan God has for your life ... you'll lose out on a chance to 
experience the greatest gift He's given us. The gift of true love." "So you 
really think it's a sin?" "Yes." John kept his tone calm, reasonable. 
"Absolutely."
Kade looked away. "We talked about that, a few of the guys and me. They told me 
it wasn't a problem because the girls agreed to have the pictures taken, and we 
weren't really doing anything wrong." Kade's face clouded. "But inside ... I 
guess I always knew it couldn't be right."
"And the other thing is the temptation to get involved with it again anytime you 
feel frustrated with the real thing." Kade sighed.
"The question is this-was John leaned back against the edge of the boat-by how 
hard will it be to stop?"
Kade squinted at a line of trees in the distance. "Hard." The word hit John like 
a rock. "Have ... have you tried to quit before?"
"Once." Kade looked eight years old again. "But my computer's right there in the 
dorm, and ... I don't know ... you get used to it." For the first time, John 
caught a glimpse of why Internet pornography was so addictive. Computers were 
everywhere, access to the Web as easy as finding a telephone. If a person got on 
those sites once and experienced pleasure, the body would cry out for more. 
"There are filters you can buy. That might help." "Yeah. One of the guys did 
that. He had to get counseling, too. Maybe he and I could help each other."
"We can get you help, son. Whatever it takes. You have to believe me that this 
is bad stuff. If you let it continue, it'll destroy you." Kade nodded slowly. "I 
guess I never thought of it that way. You know, like where it could lead." 82 
KAREN KINGSBURY Us "That time ... when you tried to quit ..." John let his hand 
fall back to his knees. "Did you ask God for help?" "Not really. I didn't think 
it'd be that hard to stop."
66 "It's something you need to walk away from, son, and never look back. Not 
ever." "I know." Kade fidgeted, his eyes glued to his hands. "I bought a book 
about stopping. Before I came here. It's in my bag." "A book?" Relief flooded 
John's soul. "Then how come you fought me, Kade? You acted like porn sites were 
a good thing." "I guess I felt cornered. Everywhere I turn someone's telling me 
it's bad." He looked up, and his eyes were wet. "What if... what if I can't 
stop?" John slid his way closer to Kade and hugged him. "You'll stop, buddy. 
God'll give you the strength." He thought of Charlene again. "He can give you 
the strength to walk away from anything bad, no matter how trapped you feel." 
Kade sniffled and gripped John's neck with the crook of his elbow. There were 
tears in his voice. "Pray for me, Dad. Will ya, please?" It took a moment for 
the lump in John's throat to subside. When it did, he let his forehead fall 
against Kade's, and there in the rowboat, in the middle of the lake, he prayed 
for his son with an intensi ty he'd never known before. He asked that Kade would 
have the strength to walk away from the seedy, sinful world of pornography. That 
he would find the right friendships and counseling and support to help his eyes 
be opened to the horror of that world. That God would erase the images captured 
by Kade's mind, and replace them with a true understanding of a woman's beauty. 
And that Kade would grasp the reality of real intimacy in the example John and 
Abby provided. That as the two of them had learned from their mistakes, so would 
Kade. And in the end, that he'd be a stronger, more godly man because of it. 83
THE ANONYMOUS LETTERS WERE COMING MORE FREQUENTLY now.
Not only did they accuse John of being a poor ethical example for the young men 
of Marion High, but they blatantly marked him as "a coach whose time has 
passed." The administration, which at first had assured John that they were 
completely behind him, now was waffling. "People are worried about the program," 
Herman Lutz told him that week. "As the school's athletic director, that 
concerns me. I think you can understand my position."
Though a year ago it would have been unfathomable to think so, John now carried 
around the sinking feeling that before he could quit the job, he was going to be 
fired. That Lutz was going to let the parents bully him into a decision that 
would be easiest for him. John tried not
67 to think about it. If he lasted long enough, he would resign after the 
season's final whistle.
Thing was, the team's performance had turned around. John packed his duffle bag 
and headed for the team bus. They'd won their last four games and a win tonight 
over the hapless Bulldogs up in North County would send the Eagles to districts. 
KAREN KINGSBURY to All of which meant the season wasn't nearly over. But that 
afternoon, football and fanatical parents didn't even make the list of John's 
greatest concerns. He was about to do something he hadn't done since he'd 
started coaching. The boys' athletics office was open and John stepped inside. 
He only had a few minutes before the bus left. The phone rang three times before 
she picked up. "Hello?" "Abby, it's me."
"John?" She hesitated. "Aren't you supposed to be on the bus?" "Yeah. Hey, real 
quick. Don't go to the game tonight." There was another pause and John prayed 
she'd understand. He didn't have enough time to go into lengthy details. She 
finally recovered. "Why not?"
"A threat came into the office today. Something about the game." John steadied 
himself against the office desk. "The police think it's a hoax, but you never 
know ... I don't want you there. Just in case." "Was it Nathan Pike?"
"They're not sure. It might be." He glanced at his watch. "Look, I gotta run. 
Just know that I love you. And please ... don't come to the game." "But John-was
"Don't come, Abby. I gotta go."
"Okay." There was concern in Abby's voice. "I won't. I love you, too." "See you 
in a few hours." "Wait ..." She hesitated.
"Be careful, John." "I will."
He hung up and jogged to the bus. He was the last one on. The
ride to North County took fifteen minutes, and though the team was in high 
spirits, John stared out the window at the countryside wondering how it had come 
to this. He hadn't told Abby all the details. They would have terrified her.
Apparently the phone call came into the office about one o'clock
that afternoon. A raspy voice told the school secretary that a suicide bomber 
would be in attendance at that night's game. 85
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "It's gonna be big, lady." The caller had chuckled. "Ya 
hear
68 me." The secretary motioned for the principal to pick up the line, but he was 
busy talking with a parent at the front counter. "Who ... who is this?"
"Right!" The caller laughed again. "You'll know soon enough. Just tell Coach 
it's too late to help me now. Tonight's the big night." "If this is a prank, you 
better say so." The secretary scrambled for a piece of paper and a pen. "It's a 
felony to make these kinds of threats."
"This is no threat, lady. People are going to die tonight. You heard it here 
first."
Then he hung up.
Pale and shaken, the secretary pulled the principal into a private office and 
told him what happened. Police were on campus asking questions within fifteen 
minutes. Had anyone made death threats at the school before? How were such 
incidents handled? Did anyone have knowledge of a student with access to 
explosives? Where was that night's game being held? And how many entrances to 
the place were there? Did anyone have something against the football team? Time 
and again the answers pointed to Nathan Pike, but there wasn't a thing the 
police could do. They couldn't even talk to the boy about the phone call.
Nathan Pike was out sick that day.
Determined to question him, police had gone to Nathan's house. Apparently his 
mother had answered the door, a bewildered look on her face. Her son was at 
school as far as she knew. She hadn't seen him since that morning.
All of it turned John's stomach. Okay, so police would be at the game, posted at 
every entrance and scattered throughout the crowd. What good would that do? 
Suicide bombers didn't advertise. They merely walked into a crowded setting and 
blew themselves and everyone around them to the moon. By the time the police 
spotted Nathan Pike, he'd be just another body in a line of corpses. 86 It was 
no comfort that John and the team were a safe distance from the stands out on 
the field. Hundreds of teens would be at the game that night. Thousands, even. 
If a bomb went off amid that crowdJohn couldn't bring himself to think about it. 
Of course the person could wait until after the game when the stands emptied 
onto the field. Then there'd be nothing the police could do to stop a kid 
f"Coach?" His fears dissipated as he turned around. It was Jake Daniels. The boy 
had been one of the bright spots in the past few weeks. He'd let up quite a bit 
on Nathan. Three times he'd even stopped in to talk to John about the pressures
69 of high school and his concerns for his mother. Apparently she was furious 
with his father. The two fought whenever they were forced to talk, and Jake felt 
caught in the middle. Jake always seemed more relaxed after a half hour of 
sharing life with John. This was why John still coached, to help young men like 
Jake. And since they'd started talking again, Jake seemed happier, more at ease. 
Less likely to join in with Casey Parker and the others who thought they ran the 
school. John had even wondered if that's why they were doing better on the 
field. There was no question Jake's numbers had led them to their recent 
victories. Now, though, Jake looked troubled. John managed a smile. "Hey, Jake."
"Uh-was the boy glanced around as though he wanted to make sure no one saw the 
two of them talking-by can I sit here for a minute?" "Sure." John slid over. 
"What's on your mind?" "There's a rumor going around that ... well, that Nathan 
Pike's going to shoot people at the game tonight." John held his breath. If the 
media ever had to compete with teenagers for getting a news flash to the public, 
the teenagers would win every time. He exhaled hard. "A threat came into the 
office. Yes. Police have checked it out. They're not worried about it." 
"Serious? There was really a threat?" Jake's eyes grew wide. "Coach, what if the 
police are wrong? Nathan Pike's a freak; don't they know that?"
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "The police are aware of Nathan." John worked to appear 
calm, but inside he was as anxious as Jake. What business did they have showing 
up at a game where there were threats of murder and mayhem? What football game 
could ever be that important? "So no one's doing anything about it?" "The 
police'll be at the game."
"Yeah, but that won't stop him. I mean, what if he doesn't care about dying?"
"The police are pretty sure it's not a serious threat, Jake. If it was, they'd 
call off the game."
"I doubt it." Jake held his helmet in his lap and now he hugged it to his 
middle. "All everyone cares about is winning this game. You know, so we can go 
to districts."
Jake was closer to the truth than he knew. "You have a point." "Coach-was Jake 
lifted his eyes to John's, but only briefly-by I know who's writing the 
letters."
"Letters?" "Yeah, the ones that talk about getting you
70 fired." John's heart sank. It was enough that he knew about the angry swarm 
of parental protests against him without his players knowing. Especially kids 
like Jake, who had always looked up to John. He wanted to know what the boy 
knew, but he wouldn't ask. He patted Jake on the knee. "A coach will always have 
his critics." "Casey Parker was talking in the locker room the other day. He 
said his dad had it out for you, bad. They've had meetings." "His dad and him?"
"His dad and some other parents. At first the other people didn't want to come 
but ... well, after we lost. More people came. They've talked to Mr. Lutz."
"That's their right, I guess." John worked his mouth into a smile. "All I can do 
is my best."
"You're not leaving, though, are you?" Jake's eyes were wide, and John wished he 
could say something to encourage the boy. "I mean, 88 KAREN KINGSBURY rather; 
out won't quit on us, will you? I still have one more year." "I'd love to be 
here next year, Jake." "So you will, right?" "We'll see." John didn't want to 
share too much information, but he didn't want to lie either. The odds of him 
coaching another season at Marion High were growing slimmer all the time.
"You mean you might quit?" John sighed. "I might not have to quit if Mr. Lutz 
fires me first." "He won't fire you! Look at everything you've done for football 
at Marion High." "People don't see it that way. They see their sons not getting 
playing time, the team not winning enough games. If you get the wrong parent 
upset with you, well ... sometimes there's nothing anyone can do." John 
refrained from saying anything more about Herman Lutz. It wasn't his place to 
undermine the man's authority in front of a student. But ultimately john's 
professional fate lay in Lutz's hands, and he was notorious for letting parents 
have their way. If Casey Parker's father wanted him out, Lutz would likely 
oblige. If John didn't quit first. "If it matters any, Coach, I'll win the game 
big for you tonight." John smiled. If only it were that simple. "Thanks, Jake. 
That means a lot." Jake fiddled with the chin strap on his helmet. "What can I 
do about Nathan Pike and the whole threat thing?"
"Pray about it." Jake's eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open for a moment. 
"Me?" "Not just you-the whole team." John lowered his brow but kept his eyes on 
Jake's. "You guys haven't exactly
71 been kind to Nathan this year. The threat isn't a surprise, really." Jake 
swallowed hard and stared at the seat in front of him. "So you want me to pray 
with the guys about it?" 89
I to like
I cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE "You asked."
For a moment, Jake was quiet. "Coach, I think he's jealous of my car." "The 
Integra?"
"Yeah. A few days after I got it, I saw Nathan's mom drop him off at school. She 
has this, like, beat-up old station wagon with a dent on the side. Right then he 
looked at my car and then at me. Usually he looks at me like he hates me, but 
that time it was more like he wanted to be me. Like he would've given anything 
to trade places with me." "Is that why you've let up on him these past few 
weeks?" Jake nodded. "It wasn't right. I was such a jerk before." "You were."
"But now .., what if it's too late? What if he really does do something?"
John searched the boy's eyes. "I told you what I'd do." "Okay, Coach." Jake 
tightened his grip on the helmet. "We'll pray. I'll make it happen." Nothing in 
the world could have kept Abby from the game that night. Yes, John would be 
upset with her. She'd have to deal with that
later. But if someone was going to harm students or players or even her husband, 
Abby wanted to be there. What if there was something she could do, a student she 
could help, or a life she could save? What if it was the last time she saw her 
husband alive? These thoughts went through her head in an instant, the moment 
John told her what had happened at school that day. He was late for the bus, so 
she couldn't argue with him. But there was no way she was staying home.
She filed into the stands and took her place at the far end, near parents from 
the other school. Bomb threat or not, she didn't enjoy sitting with the parents 
of John's players. Not this year, at least. Rarely ever, in fact. It simply 
didn't work to be involved that way. After John took the job at Marion High, 
Abby had reveled in her 90 KAREN KINGSBURY 'v role as the head coach's wife. She 
had the idyllic sense that she would sit with the parents, chat with them, 
befriend them. And at first, she did just that. Those were the years when she 
invited parents over for Thanksgiving dinner and Saturday night socials. "Be 
careful, Abby," John
72 would warn her. "You think they're your friends now, but wait and see. 
Sometimes people have an agenda." Abby had hated his insinuation that the 
wonderful people she sat with at games were merely being kind to get their sons 
in good with Coach Reynolds. She disagreed with him time and again, insisting 
that people weren't that shallow; football wasn't that important. But in the end 
John had been completely right.
One couple-people who were Christians and had shared many meals with the 
Reynolds-was the first in the office complaining about John's coaching when 
their son didn't get enough playing time. Other parents turned out to be phony 
as well, talking about Abby behind her back and then presenting big smiles and 
happy hellos when she came around.
They weren't all that way, of course, but she'd learned her lesson about 
players' parents, and she no longer took chances. For years now she sat by 
herself or with one of the other coachs' wives. Tonight, though, she had no 
intention of sitting with anyone. She would camp out in the far side of the 
stands and watch. Not the game, but the stands, searching the students for any 
sign of unusual behavior, any sign of
Nathan Pike. She had seen Nathan enough times on campus to recognize him. Of 
course, Nathan and his cronies were easy to spot, dressed as they were in black 
clothes and spiked collars. Tonight Abby wanted to be the first to notice them, 
the first to recognize any indication that one of them might be about to blow 
the stadium to pieces.
The minutes ticked off the clock and halftime came, all without incident. Police 
were stationed throughout the stadium, some-Abby guessed-in plain clothes. But 
so far the most remarkable thing that had happened all game was Jake Daniels's 
five touchdown passes. 91
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby was fairly certain that was a league record. Kade had 
been one of the best quarterbacks to come out of that area, and he'd never come 
close to throwing five TDS in one half.
The second half was uneventful as well.
Jake was pulled in the third quarter and replaced by Casey Parker, who had two 
passes intercepted. Despite that, the Eagles went on to win by thirty points. As 
the final buzzer sounded, the crowd spilled onto the field, embracing the Eagles 
as though it hadn't been a season wrought with controversy and parental 
complaints.
What did it matter now? The Eagles were going
73 to districts. Abby stood and made her way down to the field. Where is he, 
Lord? Where's Nathan Pike? If heccc here, please, Father, show me. She scanned 
the crowd ... and then hesitated. Had something moved along the far fence of the 
stadium? Cornfields surrounded the huge structure on three sides. A parking lot 
was on the fourth side.
Abby stared, eyes narrowed ... Yes. There amid the tall corn . . Abby could 
swear she saw movement.
Taking the stairs in an almost trancelike manner, Abby walked along the 
bleachers, drawing closer to the place where John and his players were receiving 
congratulations from hundreds of students and the entire marching band. The 
whole time she kept her eyes locked on the place in the cornfield.
Suddenly a figure emerged-a figure dressed in black. Before Abby could do 
anything-before she could get close enough to be heard by John and the others, 
to run or duck or grab a police officer-the figure slipped through a hole in the 
fence and jogged through the crowd toward her husband.
"John, look out!" Abby shouted the words, and around her, a handful of parents 
stopped their conversations and stared at her. Abby ignored them and set out in 
a full run, bounding down the stairs as fast as she could. Please, God ... save 
them from this. Please, God. In Jesus' name, I beg you
...
She was on the field now, but the figure's face was closing in quickly 92
on John, placing himself in the center of the crowd of students and players. 
Even from fifty yards away, Abby could see the boy's face.
It was Nathan Pike. He was dressed in his usual black, but this time he had on a 
new garment. A bulky jacket. "John ... run!" Abby screamed the warning and drew 
the stares of dozens of students. "All of you, run! Quick!" Some of the students 
did as she said, but most of them only stood planted in place, motionless, 
staring at Abby as though she'd lost her mind. She was ten yards away from John 
when Nathan walked up to him and put his hand on John's shoulder. At the same 
time, four officers darted through the crowd and gang-tackled Nathan to the 
ground. "John!" Abby was faint by the time she reached her husband's side. Her 
stomach was in knots and she couldn't breathe. "Come on." She grabbed his arm. 
"Let's get out of here." "What in
74 the world ... ?" John's face was white, his eyes wide. The circle of students 
had grown and tightened around the place where the police had Nathan pinned to 
the ground. The boy appeared to be cooperating. A slew of officers came from 
every direction and in a matter of minutes directed the students away from the 
action and out into the parking lot. John directed his assistants to accompany 
the team bus back to school. "He's clean," an officer announced. "No bombs." 
Every muscle in Abby's body felt weak with relief. She gripped the sleeves of 
Johns jacket and buried her face in his chest. "I thought he was going to kill 
you, John. I ... I was so scared." She whispered the words, so the other coaches 
couldn't hear. The entire staff was privy to the bomb threat, so none of them 
was surprised at what was happening. "It's okay, Abby. It's all over." John ran 
his hand over her back and took her fingers in his. Then they walked to the 
place where Nathan still lay on the ground in handcuffs. 93
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE The police nodded their okay, and John walked up to the 
boy's side. "Did you do it, Nathan? Did you make the call?"
Nathan shook his head, his eyes wide and frightened. "They keep asking me that." 
He gulped, his words sticking in his throat. "I don't know what they're talking 
about."
Abby clung to John's arm, her body shaking from the adrenaline rush. The kid was 
lying. He had to be.
John tried again. "You weren't in class today." Nathan blinked. 1. . . I went to 
the library. I had an English paper due and I needed some place quiet. I swear, 
Mr. Reynolds. I don't know what they're talking about."
An officer stood near Nathan's head. "Why'd you sneak in through the hole in the 
fence?"
"I was coming back from ... from the library and thought I'd swing by. I saw the 
score and wanted to . . . to congratulate Mr. Reynolds. It was a big game."
The story had more holes than a sieve, but that wasn't Abby's problem. All that 
mattered was that John was okay. John and the students and players. She closed 
her eyes and rested her head against John. God, thank You ... thank You so much.
The police pulled Nathan to his feet and led
75 him to a waiting police car. Before they left, an officer approached John. 
"You think he could be telling the truth?"
"It's hard to tell with Nathan." John thought for a moment. "I'll say one thing 
though. In all the time I've known that boy, I've never seen him afraid until 
today. If I didn't know his past, I'd swear he was being straight with you."
The officer jotted something on his notepad. "Thanks. We'll take that into 
consideration."
Before long, John and Abby were the only people left in the stadium. He folded 
his arms around her and held her close. "You're shaking." "I thought ... I 
thought he was going to blow you up right there. Before I could do anything to 
help you." 94
KAREN KINGSBURY More "I told you not to come." Despite the reprimand, his voice 
was jode, and Abby was glad. He wasn't mad at her. "Right. Like I could sit home 
while someone might be out here trying to hurt you." She pulled back and looked 
him straight in the eye. "I had to come, John. Nothing could have kept me away."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" She grinned. "Guess what?" "What?" "You won!" 
,eawe did." "Congratulations." "Thanks." The scoreboard was still lit, as were 
the stadium lights. Groundskeepers would clean up for another few hours before 
shutting the place down. "Now we get to go to districts." "You don't sound 
thrilled." She worked her hands up the side of his face. "I'm not. The parents 
hate me, remember?" "Not if you're winning." Abby ran her finger lightly over 
his brow. "These parents are different. Jake Daniels told me who's writing the 
letters. It's Casey Parker's father."
"No surprise there." "Hey." He brought his face close to hers and kissed her. 
"Thanks for being here tonigh,:. Even though I asked you not to. It means a lot 
to me." "You're welcome." She kissed him back, breathing in the scent of him, 
trying not to imagine how different the night might have played outif... She 
couldn't finish the thought. "You look tired." "I am. I've never been so scared 
in my life." "Ahhh, Abby." He brushed his face against hers, clinging to her the 
way she clung to him. "Sweet, Abby. I'm sorry. I hate thinking of you afraid 
like that. Why don't you go home and get some rest?" 95
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE "What about you?" "I'm a little wired for that." He pulled 
his gym
76 bag over his shoulder and led her toward the parking lot. "I think I'll go 
back to school and correct papers. I'm about two weeks behind. Can you give me a 
ride?"
She grinned. "I'd love to." "My car's at the school."
They talked about the game on the ride home, and when Abby pulled up in front of 
the school, she turned to John and yawned. "Will you be late?"
"Maybe. Could take me until one or two if I have enough energy." "Don't forget 
about our dancing lesson tomorrow." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he 
climbed out. "I won't be that late, don't worry."
"Yeah, but I want you to have enough energy. Paula's pretty demanding, you 
know."
John laughed. "See ya later, Abby.
Love you." "Love you, too."
Abby drove away knowing it was never more true.
4 As, THE PARTY WAS PACKED WITH
TEENAGERS AND JAKE Daniels was on top of the world. All except one thing. He 
couldn't stop thinking about Nathan Pike and Casey Parker. Nathan, because Jake 
had watched the whole arrest thing go down. In fact, he had the best view of 
anyone, since he'd been standing a few feet from Coach Reynolds when it 
happened. At first he'd been terrified, certain Nathan was going to whip out a 
gun and they'd all be dead. But then he saw Nathan's eyes. Jake and Nathan had 
never been good friends, but back a few years ,ago they'd been acquaintances. 
They'd known each other enough that they'd say hi and help each other with an 
occasional homework assignment. As Jake had risen in athleticism and popularity, 
Nathan had spiraled in the opposite direction. Jake had been honest when he told 
Coach Reynolds Nathan was a freak. That's what the guy had become. But that 
night on the field when he saw Nathan's eyes, he knew deep in his gut that 
Nathan had nothing to do with the threat that day. He was scared as a guy could 
get. And that bothered Jake for two reasons. First, because it wasn't right that 
Nathan was arrested over something he may not have done.
And second, because if Nathan didn't do it, who did? Whoever it was, he was very 
likely still walking around, making plans. Then there was Casey Parker.
Jake had entered the locker room before the game that
77 night and told everyone first off that the rumors were true. Someone had 
called the school and threatened to kill people at the game that night.
When the commotion settled down, Jake told the guys there was only one thing 
they could do about the threats. They could pray. Two and three at a time, the 
guys had dropped their gear and made their way over to Jake. In less than a 
minute, the whole team was gathered in a huddle-everyone except Casey Parker.
"This is a public school," Casey snapped at them. "It's against the law to 
pray."
In the past three weeks-since Jake had been meeting with Coach Reynolds again 
and being kinder to kids like Nathan Pike-the friendship with Casey had cooled. 
In the locker room earlier, Jake would have refuted Casey, but one of the other 
players did it first. "A kid can pray anywhere he wants."
Several others reiterated this truth with grunts and "Yeah, that's right" and 
other such things.
Casey sat off to the side while the rest of them prayed for God's protection 
over not just the game but every person in attendance. When the prayer was over, 
the team formed a tight circle and did their usual chanting and cheering to get 
fired up for the game. Casey didn't join in any of it.
He sat by himself all night. Coach didn't call his number until Jake had six 
touchdowns. It was no surprise to the other Eagles when Casey took the field and 
promptly threw four incompletes and two interceptions. After that the coaches 
went to a running game to kill the clock.
On the bus ride back to school, Casey didn't say a word to the rest of them. 
When talk about the party came up, he split without a goodbye or anything. Jake 
tried to forget about it. After all, this was his 98 night. His team had 
survived some sort of weird death threat and won the game. Big time. They were 
even going to districts. It was time to celebrate. Big time. He looked around. 
The party was at some girl's place, a freshman cheerleader, Jake thought. The 
girl had a huge house, lots of food, and parents who didn't mind them gathering 
there. Most of the team had showed up, but not Casey. A group of guys Jake 
didn't know that well walked up to him. "Nice game, Jake
... way to throw it." "Yeah, was that like a record or something? Six 
touchdowns?" Jake had been asked a hundred times so far, but he was polite as he 
answered. "A school record. Tied with a
78 league record." "That's so cool. Way to go." The guys left, and Jake leaned 
against the kitchen counter. Some of the kids had beer in their cars outside. 
They drifted in and out, downing a few beers and then returning to the house. 
The girl's parents didn't mind the kids drinking as long as it wasn't on their 
property. That was fine for them, but not Jake. Not tonight. He'd promised his 
dad that he wouldn't drink and drive, and since getting the new car, he'd kept 
his word. He grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with ice water. Besides, he 
wanted to savor the night, not lose it in a haze of drinking. He'd done that too 
many times over the summer. He was smarter now. The party had been going on for 
two hours already, and it was after midnight. Jake wanted to be fresh for 
practice in the morning. A few more minutes and he'd call it a night. At that 
moment, the front door opened and Jake stared. Casey Parker walked in, his arm 
around Darla Brubaker-the girl Jake was planning to ask to prom. Jake set his 
cup down and gritted his teeth. Whatever sort of stunt Casey was trying to pull, 
it wasn't going to work. Casey searched the room until his eyes landed on Jake. 
Then he turned to Darla and kissed her on the cheek. Jake looked away. What was 
Casey's problem, anyway? He was 99
cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE acting like a total loser. If Darla wanted to hang out 
with a jerk like that, let her. Still, he couldn't help but look back at the 
couple, still standing near the front door.
Casey whispered something in Darla's ear, and the girl giggled and took a seat 
in the corner of the room. When she was gone, Casey sauntered into the kitchen. 
Something about his expression looked almost hateful.
"Jake." He nodded once and leaned against the opposite counter. "Nice game 
tonight."
"Thanks." Jake grabbed his cup again and took another swig of water. "Hey, 
what's eatin' you, man? You weren't yourself out there." "Let's just say the 
praying thing freaked me out, okay?" Jake uttered a single laugh. "It worked, 
didn't it? No one shot us while we played the game."
Casey slammed his fist onto the counter. "Enough about prayer, okay? If you 
weren't a junior, I'd take you out for pulling a stunt like that before the 
game."
"Stunt?" Jake frowned. He didn't like
79 Casey's insinuation. "I saw you . . . talking to Coach the whole ride up to 
North County." Casey crossed his arms. "The thing I don't get is this: You're 
already his favorite little go-to guy. Did you really have to let him talk you 
into praying? I mean, haven't you sucked up enough these past few weeks? 
Dropping into Coach's room and acting all buddy-buddy." Jake set his cup down 
and took three steps closer to Casey. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on. You're part of Coach's C-squad. Guys like me don't have a chance."
"Can-squad?" Jake's mind reeled. What was Casey talking about? What the heck was 
a C-squad?
"You know, Jake. The Christian squad. Coach always gives the best spots to the 
Christian kids. Everyone knows that."
Jake felt his face go hot, then ice cold. "You're crazy, Parker. That's a lie 
and anyone on the team'll tell you so." 100 KAREN KINGSBURY can "a Casey grabbed 
a handful of Jake's T-shirt and jerked him close so their faces were only inches 
apart. "I'm the best quarterback on the team." He hissed the words, giving Jake 
another jerk for emphasis.
"So tell me why I'm sitting the bench and you're getting all the p.t." "Playing 
time is earned. "Jake placed his hands squarely on Casey Parker's shoulders and 
shoved him. "Anyone who's played for Coach Reynolds knows that." "That right?" 
Casey shoved Jake, this time into the kitchen counter. Before Jake could 
retaliate, a group of girls rushed into the kitchen squealing at them. "Break it 
up, guys." "Yeah, come on ... let it go." Jake straightened his shirt and glared 
at Casey. When the girls left, Casey shot an angry look at Jake, his expression 
pinched. "It's time we got to the bottom of this thing." "Let's take it 
outside." "Fine. But not on the grass." "Where then?" "The streets." He sneered 
at Jake. "You think you're the only one with speed?" Casey spat at him. "Well, 
you're wrong." "You're talking about a race?" Jake's spine tingled. No one was 
listening to their conversation. It wouldn't be a big deal. Just a simple race 
between the two of them. Then Casey would know once and for all not to mess with 
Jake Daniels. "Any time, Parker. Your car'll look parked next to mine." "Only 
one way to find out." "Where do you want to do it?"
80 Casey narrowed his eyes, his voice strained with anger. "Haynes Street ... 
the milelong stretch in front of the high school."
"Done." "Meet me at Haynes and
Jefferson in thirty minutes." Casey turned and headed back to Darla. 101
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Jake had just one more thing to say, and he said it loud 
enough for Darla to hear. "Don't forget to bring the winner's trophy." 
Late-night hours after a game were John's favorite times to catch up on his 
classroom work. He taught six health classes each day, and it was easy to fall 
behind. Especially during the season. Good thing he had more energy than usual 
tonight.
Generally, he'd get into his office, go through a day's worth of papers, and 
start feeling tired. Then he'd head home and crawl into bed with Abby sometime 
around eleven o'clock. But tonight he had enough stamina to work until morning. 
Not that he would. He'd promised Abby he wouldn't stay out too late. Besides, 
she was right. He needed his energy for their Saturday night dance lessons. John 
scanned a series of papers and entered the tests in his grade book. He'd never 
been one of those coaches who watched game films on Friday nights. As much 
energy as it took to coach a football game, he needed to fill his mind with 
something completely different. Grading was just the thing. So far that night 
he'd breezed through three days' worth of papers.
All the while he couldn't stop thinking about Nathan Pike. Something deep in his 
gut told him Nathan hadn't come to the stadium for any reason other than the one 
he'd given-to ccgratulate John on coaching the team to a victory. He paused and 
thought about the scenario that had unfolded after the game. No doubt there were 
troubling pieces to the way it played out. Why hadn't Nathan entered the stadium 
through the main gates like everyone else? And why would he spend the entire day 
at the library only to drive ten miles out of the way to a football game? John 
couldn't remember seeing him at any other game so far that season.
Still, John was an expert at looking into kids' eyes and finding the truth. And 
something about Nathan's story rang truer than anything the kid had ever said 
before. 102 KAREN KINGSBURY Us John corrected another batch of papers and then 
stretched. The framed picture near the edge of his desk caught his attention. He 
and Abby, at Nicole's wedding. Abby had thought it a strange
81 choice. After all, there was nearly two feet of space between them, and even 
a stranger could see the tension on their faces. It was hardly a happy picture. 
But it was honest. They had made their decision to divorce, and that night, when 
the kids had gone on their honeymoon, John had planned to take his things and 
move in with a fellow teacher-a guy who had divorced his wife a year earlier. In 
fact, when the picture was snapped, John's car was already packed with his 
belongings. The deal was all but done. Kade and Sean had been spending the week 
with friends, and Abby had plans to fly to New York and meet with her editor. 
Their entire lives were falling apart, and the children had known nothing about 
any of it. That night, after the wedding, John was only halfway down the road 
when he stopped and parked the car. He didn't know how to turn it around, didn't 
know how to erase the mistakes they'd made ... but he knew he couldn't drive 
another inch away from the only woman he'd ever loved. The woman God intended 
for him to love forever. At that point, the divorce plans were all very neat and 
tidy, the arrangements they'd made about how to tell the kids and how they'd 
split time ... everything was set. Everything but one troubling detail. He still 
loved Abby. Loved her with all his heart and soul. So he climbed out of the car 
and walked back home. He found her outside, where he had known he'd find her. On 
the pier, in their private spot. And in the hour that followed the walls they'd 
built around their hearts came crashing down until all that remained were two 
people who had created a life and a family and a love that could not be thrown 
away. John sighed. How he loved Abby ... more so now than ever before. 103
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE He could hear her voice the last time she'd visited his 
classroom. "Take the picture down, John." She'd stared at it, her face filled 
with disgust. "It's awful. I look like an old, bitter woman." "No. It makes me 
remember." "Remember what?" "How close we came to losing it all."
Besides, that wasn't the only picture on his desk. There was the other one right 
beside it. A smaller photo of John and Abby laughing at some family function a 
few months ago. Abby was right. She looked a decade younger in the later photo. 
It was amazing what happiness could do for a person's face.
He looked up at the clock on his classroom wall. Twelve-thirty. Abby would be 
asleep by now. The thought made him suddenly tired. He shot
82 a look at the papers on his desk. The pile was half finished, but the rest 
could wait. If he had to, he could stay late Monday night, too.
The restlessness he'd felt earlier had worn off. If he went home now, he 
wouldn't lie awake wondering about this play or that one. He'd cuddle up to 
Abby, breathe in the fragrance of her sleeping beside him, and drift off to 
sleep in a matter of minutes. That settled it.
He gathered his papers, stacked them neatly, and slipped them in the appropriate 
folders. Then he grabbed his keys, closed up his classroom, and headed for the 
parking lot.
As he pulled out of the school entrance, he worked the muscles in his legs. He 
was more tired than he'd thought. The streets were long since deserted, and 
because John and Abby only lived a few minutes from the school, he could almost 
count on being home in bed with Abby in five minutes flat.
He looked both ways, began to buckle his seat belt, and swung his car right onto 
Haynes Street.
A sound came up behind him, almost like an approaching freight train. All within 
an instant's time, John reminded himself that there 104 KAREN KINGSBURY bea were 
no train tracks in that part of Marion. He glanced in his rearview mirror just 
as a series of lights blinded him from behind. What in the world? He was going 
to be hit. Dear God ... help me! There was no time to react ... no time to think 
about whether he should hit the brake or the gas. The roaring noise behind him 
became deafening and then there was a terrible jolt. Screeching tires and 
breaking glass filled John's senses-along with something else. A blinding pain 
burned through John's back, an indescribable hurt like nothing he'd ever felt in 
his life. His vision blurred, leaving him gasping for air in complete darkness. 
He found his voice and screamed the only thing that filled his mind, the only 
thing he could put into words.
"Aaaabby!" His voice echoed for what felt like forever. It was impossible to 
draw another breath. Then there was nothing but silence. 105
were like limp noodles, unable to move. A few seconds passed until, THE AIR BAG
INFLATED IMMEDIATELY.
One minute Jake was barreling down Haynes Street, stunned at the speed Casey 
Parker had gotten out of his Honda. The next, there was the most
83 horrific crash Jake had ever imagined possible.
His car was still now, but the bag smothered his face. He punched at it, gasping 
for air. What had happened? Had he blown a tire or lost control? Jake tried to 
shake off the dizzy feeling. No, that wasn't it. He'd been racing ... racing 
Casey Parker.
Jake had the lead, but just barely. He'd stepped on the gas and watched the 
speedometer climb toward the one hundred mark. It was faster than he'd ever 
intended to drive, but the race would be over in half a mile. Then he'd seen 
movement, a truck or a car turning onto the road just ahead of him.
Was that what had happened? Had he hit someone? His mouth was dry; he couldn't 
catch his breath. Oh, God... not that. Jake kicked at the air bag, fighting free 
from it enough to open his door. He set his feet on the pavement, his chest 
heaving. Why couldn't he grab a mouthful of air?
Stand up, you idiot! But his body wouldn't cooperate. His muscles slowly, his 
lungs began to fill. Then it hit him. He'd had the wind knocked out of him. 
Breathe ... come on, breathe. Finally he felt the oxygen make its way through 
his system. As it did, his legs jerked into action. He stood and looked around. 
Casey Parker was gone. "God, no .. His heart thumped wildly against the wall of 
his chest as he turned and looked at the roadway in front of his car. There, 
about twenty yards ahead, was the crumpled remains of what looked like a pickup 
truck. It was impossible to tell what color it was. Jake wanted to throw up but 
instead he began to cry. He had no cell phone, no way to call for help. The 
entire school was surrounded by open fields, so no residents would have heard 
the crash. He stared at the twisted metal and knew without a doubt that the 
driver was dead. Passengers, too, if there were any. In driver's ed they'd 
taught them to wear seat belts because usually, almost always, there was room to 
live in a smashed-up vehicle. But not this one. The front end was all that was 
left. The back was crumpled like tinfoil, and the cab ... well, the cab seemed 
to have been swallowed up by the other pieces. Something inside him told him to 
run, flee as fast as he could. If he'd just killed someone, he would spend years 
in prison. He glanced back at his car. The front end was totaled, but there was 
a chance it might still run. He shook his head, and the thought
84 vanished. What was he thinking? However impossible it looked, someone might 
be alive in the wreckage! He walked closer. Whatever ... whoever lay inside the 
totaled pickup, he didn't really want to see it. His heart raced so fast now, he 
thought he might pass out. The trembling he'd felt earlier had become full-blown 
shaking. The sound of his teeth chattering filled the night air as he approached 
the back of the other vehicle. 107
cU@ A TIME TO EMBRACE Suddenly something caught his eyes.
He looked down at the ground and there, in the ten feet that separated him from 
the destroyed pickup, was a license plate. Jake inched toward it and his heart 
stopped. GO EAGLES
Go Eagles? No, God ... please ... it can't be. Only one person had a license 
plate like that. And he drove a pickup truck.
"Coach!" Jake felt his eyes grow wide, his heart stop as he ran the remaining 
steps to the side of the wreckage.
From inside there was a moaning sound, but the doors were so mangled, Jake 
couldn't see anything, let alone find a way in to help him. "Coach, is that 
you?"'
Of course it was. Jake gripped the sides of his face and made jerky turns in a 
dozen different directions. Why hadn't anyone else come by? Where was Casey 
Parker? He pulled his hair and shouted again. "Coach! I'll get help. Hang on!"
With every bit of strength Jake had ever mustered, he pulled on what looked like 
part of the door. Open, you stupid door ... open. Come on.
"Coach, hang in there."
Panic came upon him like a tidal wave. What had he done? He'd taken his car past 
a hundred miles an hour and hit Coach Reynolds . . . How could that possibly 
have happened? Coach should have been home hours ago. And now what? Coach was 
lying inside the twisted metal dying, and there was nothing he could do about 
it. "Coach ... can you hear me?"'
Nothing. "God. . . His Jake threw his head back and tossed his arms in the air. 
He wept, shouting like a crazy person. "Please, God, help me! Don't let Coach 
die!"
At that moment, Jake heard a car coming up behind him. Thank You, God... 
whatever happens to me, let Coach live. Please. He positioned himself
85 in the middle of the road, waving his arms 108 frantically. Almost 
immediately he recognized the car. Casey Parker. The Honda came to a screeching 
halt and Casey jumped out. "I think it was Coach's truck." Casey looked as bad 
as
Jake felt. Shaking, pale-faced, deeply in shock. "I ... had to come back." He 
held up a cell phone. "I already called 9-1-1."
"He's ... he's ..." Jake was jerking violently, too frightened to speak. Casey 
ran up to the wreckage. "Help me, Jake. We have to get him out." The two boys 
worked with frantic determination, trying to find a way inside the pickup truck. 
But there was none. They didn't give up, not even when they heard sirens-not 
until the emergency vehicles pulled up and EMTS ordered them away from the 
vehicle. "That's ... that's my coach in there!" Jake couldn't think straight, 
couldn't make his mouth work. "Help him!" Casey took over. "Our coach is trapped 
inside. We're sure it's him." One of the paramedics hesitated. "Coach John 
Reynolds?" "Yeah." Casey nodded, licking his lips. He looked like he might faint 
at any moment, but at least he could talk. Jake thrust his hands in his pocket 
and stared at the ground. He wanted to crawl into a manhole and never come out, 
or fall asleep and have his mother beside him, waking him, promising him it was 
all just a bad dream. Instead, a police car pulled up. Jake and Casey stood ten 
feet from the wreckage, alternately watching the rescue effort and staring at 
the asphalt. Jake hadn't given the police much thought. He was too concerned 
with whether the paramedics would be able to reach Coach Reynolds and, when they 
did, whether they could save him or not. He was so distracted that when the 
officers positioned themselves in front of him and Casey, Jake stepped to the 
side for a better view. "You the driver of the red Integra?" The officer shone a 
flashlight at his face. Jake's heart skipped a beat and he squinted. Oh God ... 
help ... "Yes ...
Yes, sir." 109
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "You injured?"
"No, sir." Jake's throat was so tight he had to force the words out. "I had an 
air bag."
The other officer shone a flashlight in Casey's face. "You the driver of the 
Honda?"
Casey's teeth were clattering. "Yeah."
"We had a tip from a driver a mile down the road, said she saw a yellow Honda 
and a red
86 Integra racing like a couple of speed demons down Haynes Street." The first 
officer took a step closer to Jake. "That true?"
Jake shot a look at Casey. This was a nightmare. What were they doing here? Why 
had he ever agreed to race Casey? Wasn't he going to go home? Just a few more 
minutes and then he'd call it a night, wasn't that what he'd told himself?
"Get your license." The officer pointed to Jake's car. Then he gestured to 
Casey's Honda. "You, too."
Jake and Casey did as they were told. The first officer handed the laminated 
cards to the second. "Run a check on them, will ya?" Then he turned back to 
Jake. "Listen, pal. Make it easier on yourself here. Forensics teams will tell 
us how fast you were going-down to the mile. You don't cooperate now, and we'll 
make the process miserable for you and your parents."
The sound of a power tool filled the air. Please, God ... let them get him out 
of there.
Jake tried to swallow, but he couldn't. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his 
mouth. This time he didn't look at Casey. "Yes, sir .. . we ... we were racing, 
sir."
"You aware there's a law against that?" Jake and Casey nodded in unison. The 
other officer joined them again. "Clean records for both."
"Not after tonight." He nodded to his partner. "Cuff "em. Then call their 
parents."
Jake's blood ran cold-not because he was going to jail but because 110
KAREN KINGSBURY very they were taking him away from Coach. He wanted to scream, 
shout at everyone to back off and let him stay until he knew everything was 
okay. His heart felt heavier than cement as the realization set in. Coach might 
die ... he might already be dead. And even if he wasn't, nothing would ever be 
okay again. Jake was the worst, most awful sort of person, and whatever happened 
to him after this, he deserved every minute of it. The first officer grabbed 
Jake's wrists and held them tightly together behind his back. The metal pinched 
his skin, and Jake was almost glad. In seconds the handcuffs were on, and the 
officer walked back to his car. The other officer did the same to Casey, and 
then left, so the two of them were alone on the road, cuffed and staring at 
Coach Reynolds's destroyed vehicle. The medics were still working frantically 
around what was left of Coach's truck, still desperate
87 to get him out. Jake closed his eyes and willed them to hurry up. God, how 
could You let this happen? It should be me in there, not Coach. He didn't do 
anything wrong. Get him out, please ... "I got it!" A paramedic shouted from 
amid the workers. He tossed a mangled truck door behind him. It landed on the 
neatly manicured grass that bordered the Marion High parking lot. "I need a 
backboard, star. And an airlift. The guy's not going to make it by ground." They 
were going to get him out! Jake's knees shook, and again he couldn't catch his 
breath. A wild splash of hope colored the moment, and Jake fought the urge to 
shout Coach's name above the chaos. The paramedic began barking out orders, 
shouting words Jake had never heard before. The one thing he did pick up was 
this: Coach Reynolds was still alive! That meant there was a chance ... a prayer 
that maybe he might make it! Jake's legs could no longer hold him, and he fell 
to his knees, his heart thudding hard against the surface of his chest. Hang in 
there, Coach ... come on. God, don't let him die. Jake had no idea how long he 
and Casey stayed there, stone still, 111
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE watching the rescue. Finally, a helicopter appeared 
overhead and landed on the empty street. About the same time, one of the 
paramedics waved his hand at the others. "I'm losing him." "No!" No one heard 
Jake above the sound of the chopper. He struggled to his feet, took three steps 
toward the huddle of medics, and then returned to his place. Beside him, Casey 
began to sob.
There was a rush of motion and someone began doing CPR. "Let's get him out of 
here!"
A team of paramedics lifted a board, and for the first time, Jake could see the 
man they were working on. There was no question it was Coach Reynolds. He still 
had on his Marion Eagles jacket. A wave of sobs strangled Jake's heart. What 
sort of monster was he, to race that way on a city street? And what about Coach, 
the man who had been more of a father to him than his own dad these past years. 
"Please don't let him die!" Once more Jake's agonized cry drowned in the 
whirring helicopter blades and engine noise. They loaded Coach Reynolds into the 
chopper, and it lifted off the ground, disappearing into the sky. Jake watched 
it go until he could no longer hear the whirring of the engine. When it was 
gone, an eerie, deathly silence fell over the street.
88 He looked around, suddenly aware of the action taking place near the damaged 
cars. Other police had arrived and were taking measurements, marking the spot 
from Jake's car to the wreckage of Coach's truck. As the paramedics left the 
scene, two tow trucks pulled up. The drivers climbed out and waited by their 
rigs.
Jake began to shake again, and his arms ached from being cuffed behind his back. 
"We're going down," Casey whispered beside him. "In flames,
Jake. You know that, right? The season's over." The season? Jake wanted to 
vomit. What kind of a person was Casey anyway? The season? Who cared about the 
stinkin' season? He turned to Casey, his eyes so swollen from crying he could 
barely see. "Is that all you can think about?"' 112 KAREN KINGSBURY 9M Casey 
wasn't crying anymore, but he shook like someone having a seizure. "Of ... Of 
course not. I'm worried about Coach. It's just ... this'll stay with us the ... 
the rest of our lives." Jake's anger blazed, cutting off his tears. "Yeah, and 
we deserve it." Casey opened his mouth, and at first it looked like he was about 
to disagree. Then he hung his head and finally, the tears came again for him, as 
well. "I ... I know it." Jake was disgusted with both of them. The officers were 
right. Coupla rich kids driving cars that were way too fast. He gritted his 
teeth until his jaw ached. It didn't matter what kind of trouble they faced. The 
police could toss him in jail and throw out the key for all he cared. In fact, 
Jake would have gladly given his life for the only thing that still mattered. 
That Coach Reynolds survive the night. Because if Coach didn't live, Jake was 
pretty sure he wouldn't be able to either. 113
Iea"IeaIlllll Illilll III
IT WAS A NIGHTMARE.
It had to be. Abby squinted at the clock and saw it was just after two in the 
morning. There was no way John would have been out this late. Car accidents 
didn't happen to men like him . . . men who should have been home asleep by now.
Yes, it was just a nightmare. Abby almost had herself convinced, except for one 
troubling detail: John's place in bed beside her was empty, untouched. She tried 
to swallow, but her throat was too thick. Why was she trying to scare herself? 
It wasn't so unusual that John be missing from bed at
89 this hour. Not after a football game. He could be downstairs watching 
television or eating a bowl of cereal. He did that lots of times.
Still, as convinced as she was, she had to tell the caller something. "Did you 
hear me, Mrs. Reynolds? Are you awake?" The voice was calm, gentle. But the 
urgency was undeniable. "I said we need you down here at the hospital. Your 
husband's been in an accident." The man was relentless. "Yes." Abby huffed out 
her answer. "I'm awake. I'll be there in ten minutes."
She hung up, then called Nicole. If the dream was going to be istent, she might 
as well work it out, and that meant playing the Ic expected of her. "Your 
father's been in an accident." "What?" Nicole's voice was half shriek, half cry.
"Is he hurt?" Abby forced herself to be calm. If she lost it now, she'd never 
make 't to the hospital. And only by going through the motions would she ever 
break free from the awful nightmare. "They didn't tell me. Just that we need to 
come." Her eyes closed, and she knew she was right. It had to be a nightmare. 
And no wonder, especially after the bomb threat earlier. Her dreams were bound 
to be bad.
"Mom, are you there?" "Yes." She forced herself to concentrate. "Is Matt home?" 
"Of course." "Have him drive you. I don't want you going out at night alone." 
"What about you? Maybe we should pick you up." "Sean's already dressed and 
waiting for me." "Is he okay?" "He'll be fine as soon as this nightmare is 
over." The entire ride to the hospital, Abby was shocked at how real everything 
felt. The cool breeze on her face, the steering wheel in her hands, the road 
beneath the wheels. Never in her life had a dream felt like this. But that's 
what it had to be. John hadn't been doing anything dangerous tonight. The danger 
had been back at the football stadium, when he could have been blown to bits. 
But driving home from school? There couldn't have been a soul on the road. Abby 
whipped the car into the hospital parking lot and saw Matt and Nicole just ahead 
of her. They entered the emergency room together and were immediately led to a 
small room behind the double doors, out of sight from the rest of the public. 
"What's going on?" Nicole started to cry, and Matt put his arm around her. 
"Why'd they bring us in here?" 115
"= A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby clenched her fist as a realization slammed into her. 
She had no
90 information whatsoever. Not about the type of accident or whether another car 
was involved. Not about the extent of John's injuries or how he got to the 
hospital. She was completely in the dark, and in some ways that brought her 
comfort. Dreams were like that-strange, missing details, disconnected ...
Beside her, Sean began to cry, too.
"Shhh." Abby hugged him to her side and stroked his back. "It's okay."
A doctor entered the room and shut the door behind him. The first thing Abby 
noticed was his face. It was marked with tension and sadness. No, God... don't 
let this be happening. Not really. Make me wake up. I can't take another minute 
...
Lean not on your own understanding, daughter ... I am here with you even now.
The words seemed to come from nowhere and speak straight to her soul. They gave 
Abby the strength to look up, to meet the doctor's eyes straight on, and ask the 
hardest question in her life. "How is he?"' "He's alive."
The four of them straightened some at the doctor's words. "Can we see him?"' 
Abby started to stand, but the doctor shook his head.
"We have him on life support in the intensive care unit." The doctor lowered his 
brow. "It'll be touch and go for the next few days. There's still a significant 
chance we could lose him."
"No!" Nicole screamed the word and then buried her face in Matt's chest. "No, 
God
... not my daddy. No!"
Abby closed her eyes and held more tightly to Sean. She remembered then that she 
hadn't called Kade. There he was five hundred miles away and he didn't know his 
father was fighting for his life. It was one more disconnected piece, a part of 
the nightmare.
But the dream was growing more terrifyingly real by the moment. Nicole finally 
quieted down, her face still smothered in Matt's plaid, flannel shirt. 116 KAREN 
KINGSBURY So conThere was sanity in staying calm. Abby looked down and saw that 
that . . . what are his injuries?" hands were trembling, but she managed to meet 
the doctor's gaze.
"He suffered a severed trachea, Mrs. Reynolds. That type of injury fatal in most 
cases. My guess is that the way his body wound up er the accident somehow held 
the trachea in place long enough to ktve his life. As soon as they moved him, he 
stopped breathing. They kept him on life support until he arrived here by 
helicopter.
91 "Helicopter?"' Abby was seeing spots before her eyes, circling spots that 
threatened to take up her entire field of vision. She shook her His head. No, 
she couldn't faint. Not now. "What ... what happened? The doctor's eyes fell to 
his clipboard, and he grimaced. "Apparently he was the victim of a couple street 
racers-high-school kids." "Street ..."
Abby's world began to spin around her. "Street racing?" No doubt about it, it 
was just a nightmare. Real life didn't have that kind of coincidence. John 
Reynolds, the coach accused of looking the other way while his players 
participated in street races ... hit by teenagers doing that very thing? It was 
so ridiculous, it couldn't possibly be real. "The boys were probably going about 
a hundred miles an hour when your husband pulled out of the school parking lot. 
He was hit from behind." "So ..." Abby pushed her fingers hard against both 
sides of her head. Again her body wanted to faint, but she wouldn't let it. Not 
until she heard it all. "So his trachea? That's the problem?" The doctor's 
expression grew even darker than before. "That's the most critical problem at 
this point." "There's more?" Nicole moaned and clung to Matt. Abby glanced at 
Sean and realized he was sobbing into her sleeve. Poor babies. They shouldn't 
have to hear this. Still, if it was only a bad dream, it wouldn't hurt anything. 
Besides, the sooner she worked through it, the quicker she'd wake up. The doctor 
checked his notes again. "It looks like he broke his 117
cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE neck, Mrs.
Reynolds. We can't really be certain at this point, but we think he's paralyzed. 
From the waist down, at least."
Noooo!" Nicole screamed again and this time Matt shot Abby a pleading look.
But there was nothing she could do. The word was still making its way into her 
conscious. Paralyzed? Paralyzed! It was completely impossible. John Reynolds had 
just coached the Eagles to victory. He had walked her to the car and climbed the 
school stairs to his office. Later that night they had dance lessons to attend. 
Paralyzed? "I'm sorry."
The doctor shook his head. "I know this must be very hard for you. Is there 
anyone I can call?"
Abby wanted to tell him to call Kade. Instead she stood and gathered Sean to her 
side. "Where is he? We need to see him." The doctor studied the group and 
nodded. He opened the door and motioned to
92 them. "Follow me."
They looked like a trail of walking wounded as they moved along behind the 
doctor down one hallway and then another. The clicking of the man's heels 
against the tile floor reminded Abby of some macabre clock, counting down the 
hours John had left. She wanted to shout at him to walk more quietly, but it 
wouldn't have made sense. Even in a dream.
Finally the doctor stopped and opened the door. "The group of you can only stay 
for a few minutes." He looked at Abby. "Mrs. Reynolds, you can stay beside him 
all night if you wish."
Abby led the way as they crept inside, and only then did her veneer of shock and 
disbelief give way. As it did, she collapsed in a heap near the foot of his bed, 
her head spinning. It was real. Dear God... its really happening.
Light narrowed, darkness swept in, overflowing her. "I'm fainti-was That was the 
last thing Abby remembered.
When Abby came to, she was sitting in a chair beside John's bed. Nicole, Matt, 
and Sean were gathered around her. At her feet was a 118 KAREN KINGSBURY More 
arse with smelling salts. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Reynolds. You passed out."
Abby looked beyond them to the bed, to her precious John lying to by bethere. 
Tubing ran in and out of his body from his mouth, his neck, his arms and legs. A 
full brace was fixated to his head and neck, makin go John looked trapped. Abby 
wanted to throw it off him, free him and take him away. But she couldn't. All 
she could do for the rest of the night was stay beside John and try not to cry 
too loudly. Because if he was here, then he wasn't at home. He wasn't watching 
television or eating cereal or grading papers into the wee hours of the morning. 
He was strapped to a hospital bed, clinging to life. And that could only mean 
one thing. She wasn't dreaming after all. Her dear husband, the man who had run 
like the wind across the football field at the University of Michigan ... the 
man who played tennis with her and jogged with her and ran patterns for his 
players when a diagram wasn't enough ... the man who danced with her on the pier 
behind their home a hundred different times ... might never dance again. This 
wasn't the kind of nightmare a person woke up from. It was the kind that lasted 
a lifetime. The hours became little more than a blur. By Saturday afternoon Kade 
had joined them at the hospital. He arrived sometime between lunch and dinner, 
Abby wasn't sure. But they were all there,
93 gathered around John's bed. Praying for him.
Jo and Denny had come, and with them a dozen people from church and the high 
school.
Word was getting out. Coach Reynolds was in an accident; he might never walk 
again. Teary-eyed football players kept vigil in the waiting room with the 
others. Only immediate family was allowed in the room, which meant Abby and the 
kids and Matt. Abby never left Johns side except to use
A TIME TO EMBRACE his private rest room. She completely avoided any conversation 
in the waiting room about who had been arrested and what penalty they might face 
for hitting John's car. She didn't care about that right now. All that mattered 
was John's survival.
So far he hadn't regained consciousness, although doctors thought it could 
happen anytime.
Abby had long since let go of the idea that what was happening was merely a 
dream. It was reality. But a reality she prayed would turn out differently than 
the doctors imagined it would. John would wake up sometime that evening, look 
around the room, and flash that silly grin of his.
Then he'd wiggle his fingers and toes and ask the first passing nurse to take 
off the neck brace. His throat would be sore, of course-any time a person had a 
severed trachea that was bound to happen-but other than that he'd be fine. A few 
days in the hospital and they could walk away from the scare of the accident and 
get on with the business of living and loving and taking dance lessons with 
Perky Paula. That's how it would happen. Abby was sure of it.
For now, the group of them was quiet. Kade stood anchored against one wall, his 
gaze locked on his father. Eyes dry, face pale, Kade hadn't moved from his spot 
for two hours. Beside him on the floor was Sean, his knees pulled up to his 
chin, his face in his hands. Most of the time, Sean cried quietly to himself, At 
times when he would stop crying, Abby could see it wasn't because the sadness 
had passed. It was because he was too scared even for tears.
Matt and Nicole had taken up their position on the opposite wall, Nicole in a 
chair, and Matt standing beside her. The doctor had encouraged them to talk, 
explaining that John was more likely to wake up if he heard their voices. 
Occasionally Abby and the boys would say a few words, but Nicole was the most 
verbal of them. Every ten minutes or so she would cross the room and stand near 
the head of John's
94 
"Daddy, it's me." Her tears would come harder then. "Wake up, 120 dy. We're all 
here waiting for you and praying for you. You're to be okay; I just know it." 
After a few sentences, her tears would be too strong to speak through, she would 
walk around the bed and hug Abby for a long while. en she would return to her 
place next to Matt. Occasionally one or ore of them would leave the room for 
something to eat or drink. The only good news of the day had come that morning 
when the ,, actor upgraded john's condition from critical to serious. "He's had 
a great night. I'd say his chances of surviving are very strong." Abby had no 
idea how long ago that was or whether night had come again or not. She knew only 
that she didn't dare leave, didn't consider being gone from the room when John 
first opened his eyes and told them all the truth: that he wasn't that bad off 
after all. Finally, as the nurses were pushing dinner carts down the hallway, 
John let out a quiet moan.
"John!" Abby moved closer to the bed and took hold of his hand, the one without 
the wires and tubing. "We're all here, honey. Can you hear me?" The kids 
gathered closer, waiting for his response. But there was none. Abby studied his 
face. It was bruised and swollen, but she was almost certain his eyes were 
twitching beneath the lids. That hadn't happened since Abby arrived at the 
hospital. Nicole ran her fingers lightly over John's other hand, careful not to 
bump the various lines attached to him. "Daddy, it's me . . ." She sucked in two 
quick breaths and fought to keep her tears at bay. "Are you awake?" John gave 
the slightest nod of his head, enough that Sean muttered a soft "Yes!" under his 
breath. It was one thing to have John injured and facing a life that might never 
be the same again. But to lose him ... that was something none of them could 
bear to think about. Even the subtlest movement now was like a sign from God 
that no matter what else might happen, John was going to live. Another moan 
escaped his throat and his lips moved. A nurse 121
More A TIME TO EMBRACE entered the room and saw what was happening. "Move back. 
Please.
He can't be too stimulated right now, not while he's intubated." She checked his 
monitors and brought her head near his face. "John, we need you to stay very 
still. Can you understand me?" Again his head moved up and down, no more than 
half an inch in either direction, but enough to show that he'd heard the nurse. 
Abby's heart soared. She was right all along. He
95 was going to be fine. They merely had to help him get past his injuries, and 
then everything would be okay.
The nurse held her hand behind her, indicating that the rest of them needed to 
keep their distance until she was finished with him. "Are you in pain, John?"
This time he moved his head side to side. Once more the motion was barely 
detectable, but it was there all the same. "John, you've been in an accident. Do 
you know that?"
His head was still. From where Abby stood, she could see him working his eyes 
again, struggling to make them open. Finally, almost painfully, the lids lifted 
and he squinted. At almost the same time his arms twitched, and he brought one 
hand toward his throat. There! See? Abby wanted to shout. He could move! If he 
could lift his hands, then he wasn't paralyzed, right? She blinked, and her 
heart sank. Even if he wasn't paralyzed, he must feel miserable. Tubing stuck 
down his throat, his head and neck stuck in a brace, unable to speak. John hated 
having his temperature taken, let alone this. Before he could pull out the 
lines, the nurse caught his hand and returned it to his side. "I need you to 
leave your throat alone, John. You've had an injury and we need to keep the 
tubes in place. Do you understand?" The nurse's voice was loud and measured, as 
though he were a dimwitted child. Kade glared at the nurse from his spot against 
the wall, but Abby was glad for her directness. Otherwise her husband might do 
something to harm himself, and they couldn't have that. "Do you understand, 
John? You mustn't make any sudden movements and don't try to remove your tubing. 
None of it. Okay?" 122 John blinked, and his eyes opened a bit wider. For the 
first time, it looked like he could see. He met the nurse's gaze and gave a more 
definite nod. Then, without waiting for the nurse to speak again, John turned 
his head and, using mainly his eyes, found each of them around the room. First 
Kade, then Sean, Nicole, and Matt. And finally Abby. She had no idea what the 
kids read in John's searching eyes, but what she saw said more than any words 
could. His eyes told her to hang in there, that he was okay, and everything was 
going to be fine. But there was something else there, too. A love so deep and 
strong and true it couldn't have been put into words even if John could speak. 
The nurse took a step backward. "I'm going to let your family visit with you for 
a few minutes, John, but after that you have to sleep. You must lie very still. 
We're working as
96 hard as we can to get you better." She didn't ask him about his legs, whether 
he could move them or feel them. Was that because the staff no longer thought he 
had a problem? Or because there was no point giving him that type of emotional 
jolt moments after he'd regained consciousness? Abby tried not to think about 
it. Instead she made her way closer to the bed, her eyes still locked on his. 
Don't lose it, Abby; don't let him see your tears. Not now. She held her breath 
and urged the corners of her lips up, where they belonged. "John ..." He lifted 
his fingers off the hospital sheet, and she took them in her own. He couldn't 
speak, but he squeezed her fingers. Abby refused to notice the way his feet and 
legs still had not moved. She let out a small bit of air, caught a quick half 
breath, and held it again. It was the only way to keep from sobbing. "God is so 
good to us, John. You're going to be just fine." His expression changed, and she 
knew instinctively what was going through his mind. What had happened? Who had 
hit him? Where was the other driver and was he okay? Abby knew few details 
herself, so she shook her head. "It doesn't matter what happened. It wasn't 123
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE your fault,
John. The important thing is you're awake and you're here with us now. You're 
getting the very best possible care, okay?" The muscles in his face relaxed a 
bit and he nodded. At the foot of the bed, Nicole gripped John's toes. But it 
wasn't until she called his name that he looked at her. "Daddy, Matt and I have 
something to tell you."
Matt placed his hand on Nicole's shoulder. "Hi." His cheerfulness sounded 
forced. "It's good to see you awake."
Nicole put her fingers to her throat, and Abby knew it was probably too thick to 
speak. After several painful seconds, she swallowed and shook her head. "We 
wanted to tell you tonight, before you and Mom took your dancing-was Her voice 
broke and for a moment she hung her head.
Matt took over. "We had some news we wanted to share with the family. When we 
found out about your accident, we were going to wait, but Nicole ..."
"I want you to know, Daddy. Because you have to do everything you can to get 
better." She stroked his foot, her eyes never leaving John's. "We're going to 
have a baby, Daddy. It wasn't something we planned, but it's a miracle all the 
same." She sniffed twice. "We ... we wanted you to be the first to know,
97 because we need you, Dad. I need you. Our baby needs you."
Tears filled John's eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. Then he gave a very 
deliberate nod and the corners of his mouth lifted just enough so they knew what 
he was feeling. No matter that he was strapped to a hospital bed ... no matter 
what lay ahead on his journey to recovery, John was going to be a grandfather. 
And he was thrilled with the news.
Abby didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jo had been right, after all. Nicole's 
glowing look was exactly what her mother-in-law had guessed it to be. She was 
pregnant! Here, in the midst of Abby's greatest nightmare, was a ray of hope, a 
reason to celebrate. The conflicting emotions warred within her. She left John's 
side 124 KAREN KINGSBURY Us a do put her arms around Matt and Nicole. "I can't 
believe it. How long have you known?" "A few weeks. We wanted to make sure 
before we told anyone." Congratulations came from Sean and Kade, though their 
voices were hardly enthusiastic. Abby let her head rest on
Nicole's shoulder. She was too drained to do anything but stand there, 
motionless. She and John were going to be grandparents. It was something they'd 
talked about since they got married, only always it had seemed like some far-off 
stage. An event that happened to other people, old people. When Nicole got 
married, they knew the possibility was closer than ever, but still ... No one 
had expected Nicole to get pregnant so soon. No one except Jo. An ocean of 
sorrow choked Abby as terrible thoughts assaulted her. Would John ever get to 
run and play with this first grandchild? Would he be able to walk the child 
around the block or bounce Nicole's baby on his knee? Please, God ... let the 
doctors be wrong about his legs. Please ... In this world you will have trouble. 
But take heart! I have overcome the world. The verse was one she and John had 
looked at a month ago, when the troubles at Marion High had intensified. There 
had been many times in life when the words from the book of John had not 
comforted her, but caused her fear. "In this world you will have trouble"? What 
peace could be gained from that? But over the years she'd come to understand it 
better. Troubles were a part of life ... even events like losing their precious 
second daughter to sudden infant death syndrome or having her mother killed by 
the Barneveld tornado. Some troubles were brought on by a person's own 
actions-like the years she and John lost because of their
98 own selfishness. Other troubles were part of a spiritual attack-like what had 
happened this year at the high school.
But sometimes you simply stayed late at school correcting papers, 125
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE pulled out of the parking lot for home, and found your life 
changed in an instant.
Troubles would come. After more than two decades together, this much Abby and 
John knew. The point of the verse wasn't to dwell on the certainty of hard 
times, but rather to be assured of God's victory through it all. If the Lord 
walked through the door of John's hospital room right now, He would cry with 
them and feel for them.
But before He left, He would give them a certain, knowing smile, and these 
parting words: "Cheer up! I have overcome all of it!" It was true.
The new life growing within her daughter was proof. THE JAIL CELL WAS FREEZING 
COLD.
Jake huddled in the corner on a cot. He had one roommate, a strung-out kid who 
he gathered had been picked up for attempted robbery. Jake peered at the guy 
when he was first brought into the cell, but neither of them had said a word 
since. The past twenty-four hours had been like something from a scary movie. 
Paramedics had given him and Casey a quick check, and then police had brought 
the two of them to the station. From there they were sent in different 
directions. Casey was already eighteen, an adult. Jake, at seventeen, was still 
a minor. That meant he had to spend the first night in a cell full of teenagers, 
all with attitudes. The booking officer told Jake his mother was in the lobby, 
but he was being charged with a felony. He couldn't have visitors until he was 
properly booked and placed in his own cell, all of which happened Saturday 
afternoon. He still hadn't been able to see his mother. Everything she had 
warned him about had happened. He could hear her voice each of the dozens of 
times he'd gone out with friends since getting the car. 126
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "Stay home,
Jake. You'll be too tempted. A car like that could kill someone ...
It had been the primary source of his parents' recent arguments. Mom thought the 
car was only his father's way of making up for lost time, an apology for taking 
off to another state and living the life of an unfettered single man.
On more than one occasion, his mother had yelled at his
99 father over the phone, trying to convince him that Jake was too young to 
handle a car like the red Integra. "You're a poor excuse for a father. If you 
loved him, you'd be here in Illinois. Not gallivanting around with some ... some 
floozy on the East Coast."
The last thing Jake had wanted to do was prove his mother right, deepen the rift 
between his parents. Yeah, well ... no question he'd done just that.
He rolled onto his side and pulled his legs up. He was lonely and scared and 
sick to his stomach. What if Coach had died? And if he was still alive, where 
was he and how was he doing? What were his injuries? Though Jake dreaded facing 
his mother, at least she would know what was happening with Coach.
For that reason, when the booking officer rattled the bars on his cell, Jake 
jerked himself upright.
"Jake Daniels." The man used a key to unlock the cell door. Across from Jake, 
the ratty teenager fixed his gaze on the barren wall once more. The man with the 
key barked at him. "You have a visitor." Jake felt like a mess. He'd been 
stripped of his street clothes and wore a plain blue cotton jumpsuit-the kind 
you saw on criminals when they testified in court and their pictures ran in the 
newspaper. "This way." The man's voice was terse. He led
Jake down a hallway of small cells into a half room. There were a dozen chairs 
facing a solid glass wall, each with dividers that formed a series of small 
cubicles. At each chair was a telephone. The officer pointed to the last one at 
the far end of the line. "Down there."
Jake's steps sounded hollow as he made his way to the last chair and 128 KAREN 
KINGSBURY Us down. Only then did he see her. His mother sat on the other side 
the glass, a telephone in her hand. Her face was swollen, her eyes 
beea"bloodshot. Look what I've done to her. Jake gripped his sides, his heart 
beating out a strange, fearful rhythm he didn't recognize. I've ruined her life. 
I've ruined everyone's life. His mother motioned to the telephone, and Jake 
picked up the receiver. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and his palms were wet. 
His jailhouse breakfast lodged somewhere at the base of his throat. "Hello?" She 
started to speak, then she dropped her head in her free hand and cried instead. 
"Mom ... I'm sorry." Jake wanted to put his arms around her and hug her, but the 
glass was in his way.
100 Could he burst through it? If so, maybe the glass would slit his wrists and 
he would die the way he deserved to. He stilled his thoughts and cleared his 
throat. "I ... I'm so sorry." Finally she looked up and ran her fingertips 
beneath her eyes. There were black smudges there, remnants of yesterday's 
mascara. "What happened, Jake? The police say you were racing." The running 
feeling was back. Maybe he could slip out a door somewhere and leave everything 
about Jake Daniels behind ... But the doors on every side were locked, and the 
mountain of misery standing before him was not going away. Jake massaged his 
temples. "That's right. We were racing." His mother's expression changed, and 
Jake felt his breath catch in his throat. In all his life, he would never forget 
the shock and sadness, the disappointment that marked his mother's face in that 
instant. She opened her mouth, but for a long time nothing came out. Then she 
said just one agonized word. "Why?" Jake hung his head. There was no good 
answer, none at all. He looked up and saw his mother was waiting. "I ... uh ... 
Casey challenged me." He was suddenly desperate to explain himself. "No one 
shoulda been on the road at that hour, Mom. When Coach pulled out, there wasn't 
time to . . ." His voice trailed off. 129
iJust: Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Through the smudged glass, his mother's eyelids 
closed in what looked like slow motion. "Oh, Jake ... it's more than I can 
stand." "Is ... is Dad coming?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "He'll be here tomorrow afternoon." The question was 
gnawing a hole through his gut. All day he'd wanted to ask about Coach, but now 
that his mother was here, Jake was terrified to do so. Finally he had no choice 
but to put his thoughts into words. "How's Coach?" "He ..." His mother sniffed, 
her eyes full of new tears. "He made it through the night." A wild relief 
exploded in Jake's soul, a relief like nothing he'd ever known. It made him glad 
he was sitting down, because otherwise his knees would have certainly buckled. 
Coach was alive! They could lock Jake up forever and he wouldn't mind now. Not 
as long as Coach Reynolds was okay. He met his mother's eyes again, then 
frowned. She looked upset, like there was something she hadn't yet told him. 
"Jake, I talked to
Mrs. Parker. She knows a family from the Reynoldses' church." His mother hung 
her head for a moment before looking up. "Coach is in bad shape, son. If he 
survives ... he will almost
101 certainly be paralyzed from the waist down."
Paralyzed? Coach? Paralyzed ... from the waist down? No way ... not Coach! Jake 
felt like he'd wallowed into quicksand. Coach couldn't be paralyzed. He was 
strong as an ox. The guys teased him that he was in better shape than anyone on 
the team. "Maybe Mrs. Parker's wrong.
What's the news saying?"
"It hasn't hit yet. The accident happened too late to make yesterday's paper."
Jake was shaking again. He ran his hand over the top of his head and down the 
back of his neck. "Mom, you can't leave me in here like this. I gotta know 
what's happening to him. It's all my fault!" She squeezed her eyes shut and sat 
perfectly still. He'd only seen her do that one other time-when his dad left 
home a few years earlier. Jake wasn't sure, but he thought it probably meant she 
was having a 130 KAREN KINGSBURY can" breakdown. Once more he wanted to punch a 
hole in the glass, climb through, and give her a hug, but he couldn't even do 
that. So many lives had fallen apart in one single moment, and it was all 
because of him. "Mom, stop. I need you. The guy's watching me and any minute 
he'll take me back to the cell." Jake's urgent tone caused his mother to open 
her eyes once more. "I have to know what's going on with Coach." "The officer 
told me you'll stay here until Monday, maybe Tuesday. Whenever they can get you 
before a judge. They're charging you with-was her voice broke, and fresh tears 
spilled onto her cheeks, "with felony assault and gross vehicular negligence. 
Also something about street racing and using a car as a deadly weapon. They want 
to try you as an adult, Jake. That could mean . . ." Her voice faded. "Staying 
here a while." Jake gripped the phone. "That's okay, Mom. I deserve it." "More 
than a while,
Jake. The officer said you'll be lucky if you get out in five years." His mother 
didn't understand. She could have told him he was in for thirty years and it 
wouldn't have mattered. What was he going to do? His football days were over, so 
were his days behind the wheel. He could hardly go back to Marion High where 
everyone would know he was the one who'd ruined Coach Reynolds's life. Yet he 
was only a junior, without a degree or training or any idea of how to support 
himself. He could hardly move to another town and start over. No, he was 
trapped, and for now that suited him fine. This was where he
102 belonged. And even here he could still walk down the hallway or pace across 
his cell. If what his mother said was true, that was more than Coach Reynolds 
could do. Hanging up the phone and walking away from Jake that afternoon was the 
hardest thing Tara Daniels had ever endured. But seeing Tim 131
Just Us A TIME TO EMBRACE in the lobby of the city jailhouse the next afternoon 
was pretty close. He walked in, his tie askew, eyes wide and bewildered, and 
immediately found her. After hearing the news, he'd taken the first flight he 
could find. This was the soonest he could get here.
Tara could think of a hundred things she'd wanted to tell him. When the phone 
call came from the police department telling her they'd arrested Jake for felony 
vehicular assault and that he'd been racing at the time of the accident, she 
wished they'd arrest Tim, too. Hadn't she told him?
Hadn't she warned them both that a car that fast was dangerous for a teenage 
boy? Just like she'd told Tim their marriage was worth fighting for, that by 
leaving for New Jersey he'd only lose everything that mattered most: the love 
they once shared, the son they'd raised, and the closeness in faith that had 
once been so important to them.
She'd been right then, and she was right now. But when Tim approached her, his 
face a mask of agony and regret, it didn't matter that she was right or that Tim 
was wrong. All that mattered was their son had nearly killed someone, possibly 
paralyzed him. And life would never be the same again.
It was hardly the time to point fingers. In all the world at that moment, only 
one other person could understand the pain of what Tara Daniels was going 
through. And that person was the man standing before her. A man she still loved, 
even if it had been years since she'd liked him.
"Tim . . ." She held out her arms, and he came to her, slowly, like a man 
stretching out his dying moments. His arms came around her waist, and hers moved 
around his neck. There-amid meandering petty criminals and empty-eyed drifters, 
with an assorted number of officers and jail clerks going about their 
business-Tara and Tim did something they hadn't done in years. They held tight 
to each other and cried. 132 THE SWELLING ALONG
JOHN'S SPINE STARTED TO RECEDE two days later. His doctor explained that until 
the swelling went down, it was impossible to know if John's paralysis was 
permanent. So far, John
103 was unaware of the possibility. Though he'd had visitors streaming in and 
out of his room around the clock since Saturday, he was mostly sedated. Too much 
awake time meant too much movement, and that could interfere with the respirator 
and trachea tube. It was early Monday afternoon, and Nicole and Abby were alone 
in a quiet alcove at the back of the waiting room. John was napping, so they'd 
planned to catch some sleep themselves. Instead they sat together, exhausted but 
wide awake, staring out the hospital window at the changing leaves in the trees 
that lined the parking lot. They hadn't been there ten minutes when Dr. Robert 
Furin appeared. Abby and Nicole sat up straighter. Abby's heart soared within 
her. The doctor's smile could only mean one thing. John had moved his feet! She 
felt the corners of her mouth lift some, despite the exhaustion that hung on her 
like double gravity. "He's got movement in his legs?"
Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE "Uh . . ."
The doctor's expression shifted. "No, Mrs. Reynolds. We're still waiting to 
determine that. Could be sometime in the next hour." He tapped the side of his 
pen against his pant leg. "I do have good news, though."
Beside her, Abby felt Nicole's body react to the letdown. She must have been 
thinking the same thing about John's legs. "Okay. We could use some."
"It looks like the trachea wasn't severed like we thought originally. We were 
able to get a better picture this morning, and it seems to be intact. That 
happens sometimes when a person receives a severe blow to the throat." The 
doctor paused. "The good news is we can take him off the respirator. In fact, 
they're doing that right now. So the next time you see him he should be able to 
talk." He shook his head. "It's a miracle really. Anyone hit by a car traveling 
that fast shouldn't be alive."
Abby was glad for the good news. It wasn't what she'd been hoping to hear, but 
the doctor was right. God had delivered John from what otherwise might have been 
certain death. They had much to be thankful for.
"When will we know about his legs?"
"We're taking him in for more It rays before the sedatives wear off." The doctor 
gave a single shake of his head. "I'd say we should know something within the 
hour." Within the hour.
News that would alter their lives one way or the other would come like every 
other piece of information that had
104 shattered their existence these past few days. By a single sentence, 
delivered as a matter of fact.
"Thank you, doctor." Abby smiled, but the action felt odd. "We'll be here. 
Please let us know as soon as you have any information." Nicole was quiet until 
the doctor left. "Did you bring the article?" "Yes. I'm not sure when I'll show 
him, but at some point he'll want to know." 134 Matt had brought the newspaper 
yesterday morning and showed them the story. It had a photograph of John's 
truck, but not a bit of it was recognizable. Abby had covered her mouth with her 
hands when she saw it. The doctor was right. Truly, it was a miracle John was 
alive. The article said two teenagers had been arrested for street racing, 
including one who hit John's car as he pulled out of the high-school parking 
lot. That information hadn't come as a shock to Abby. She'd heard from the 
beginning that John had been the victim of an illegal street race. It was the 
names of the teenagers that took her breath away. Jake Daniels and Casey Parker. 
John's quarterbacks. Good kids who had made a series of poor choices and would 
pay the price for the rest of their lives. According to the article, Casey was 
being charged with reckless driving, participation in an illegal street race, 
and being an accomplice to vehicular assault. He had been released on his own 
recognizance and was expected to plead guilty to several of the charges at a 
hearing sometime in the next month. Jake's charges were far more serious. First, 
the district attorney's office was determined to try him as an adult. If they 
succeeded-and chances were strong that they wouldJake would most likely wind up 
with a jury trial facing a handful of charges, including felony assault with a 
deadly weapon. The combination of crimes could send Jake to the state 
penitentiary for as many as ten years. "This town is tired of illegal street 
races," the district attorney was quoted as saying. "If the people choose to 
make an example out of this young man, he could receive the maximum sentence." 
Another quote came from Jake's mother, Tara, who apparently was holding vigil 
for her son at the county jail. "Jake is horrified at what's happened. He's 
ready to accept any punishment given him." The article went on to say that Mrs. 
Daniels hoped the district attorney's office would be lenient with her son since 
he had no prior, record. 135
105 I
ii ii cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby didn't know what to think about that. If the 
driver of the speeding car had been a different teenager, one she didn't know, 
Abby could've ridden the district attorney's bandwagon, hoping for the toughest 
penalty ever. But . . . Jake Daniels?
The kid had eaten dinner at their house a dozen times, swam in their lake, and 
jumped off their pier. How could she hope for a boy like Jake to spend the next 
decade of his life in prison? Abby couldn't picture him spending ten days there, 
let alone ten years. She glanced at Nicole. "Have you thought about Jake's 
mother? How awful she must feel?"
"She wants leniency for her son." Nicole crossed her arms. "That's the only part 
that stands out in my mind."
The bitterness in Nicole's voice broke Abby's heart. Nicole was
never bitter, never jaded. All her life Nicole had been the first one to
pray about a situation, the one who always had a bit of wisdom or Scripture or 
hope for a person in need. Bitterness did not become her. "Jake's a nice boy, 
Nic."
Her daughter said nothing, and Abby let it go. She couldn't imagine how awful 
the ordeal had to be from Jake's mother's perspective. How strange it was that 
just a few weeks ago, Abby and Tara Daniels had been talking about the very car 
that had nearly killed John. "What was Tim thinking, giving Jake a car like 
that?" Tara had said. "Do you know what that thing cost? Nearly forty thousand 
dollars. That's outrageous! He could have bought him four years of college for 
that. And all it does is tempt a kid like Jake to do something wrong." Prophetic 
words, indeed. Jake, who had only recently made the decision to spend less time 
with the likes of Casey Parker ... who had stopped teasing the Nathan Pikes at 
Marion High and started talking more frequently with John about his future. 
Jake, who might have earned a college scholarship in football ... had made a 
decision that had altered all their lives. Forever. 136 KAREN KINGSBURY Us 
Rather than be there to love and support Tara in her most dire hour, Abby was 
living a nightmare of her own, and reading the details of the story from the 
newspaper, just like everyone else in Marion. Beneath a smaller headline at the 
back of the
106 paper was a brief article about the bomb threat at Marion High. It mentioned 
that a student had been questioned after the football game and released to his 
parents. Abby clipped the article about the accident, folded it, and stuck it in 
her purse. One day soon, John would want to see it. So far, they'd had no 
discussions about the accident because John couldn't talk. Now that the tubes 
were coming out of his throat, he would have questions. Abby prayed he would 
survive her answers. Nicole turned to her, her body tense. "Can I talk to you 
about something? Not about the accident, but something else?" "Sure." Abby 
reached over and took Nicole's hand. "What's on your mind?" There were delicate 
lines on Nicole's forehead. Abby could feel her daughter's tension as strongly 
as if it were her own. "It's about the baby." "Everything's okay, right?" Nicole 
nodded. "It's just ... well, I wanted to tell you I was pregnant a few weeks 
ago, but I couldn't." She hesitated and her eyes lifted to Abby's. "I wasn't 
happy about it at first." Poor Nicole. As if she didn't have enough to worry 
about with John's condition, she had her own to consider as well. "That's very 
normal, sweetheart." Abby shifted so she faced
Nicole. "Especially when you weren't planning on having babies for another few 
years." "Four years." "Right." Abby waited, giving her daughter time to voice 
her thoughts. "I love children; it isn't that." Nicole's face mirrored the 
struggle going on within her. "It's just ... I didn't want them to come between 
me and Matt." She stopped. "The way I came between you and Dad." Abby sat back a 
little. What in the world was Nicole talking about? "Honey, you never came 
between your dad and me." 137
"Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE Nicole blew at a wisp of her bangs and leaned back against 
the vinyl hospital sofa. "Yes, I did. You might not see it that way, but it's 
true. That's why ... why your marriage hasn't always been what it could be." 
"Nic, that's not-" Abby couldn't put her thoughts into words. Obviously her 
daughter was more aware of what had almost happened last year than Abby gave her 
credit for. But what was Nicole thinking? Their struggles had never had anything 
to do with the children. "Mom, I know it sounds crazy, but it's been stuck in my 
head since Matt and I got married. I've always wanted to believe you and Dad had 
the best relationship in the world. But last year there
107 were lots of times I knew that wasn't true. Sure, I say you look like 
newlyweds, but that's only because it's what I want to believe." She spread her 
fingers across her chest. "Deep inside I know you guys aren't always happy. And 
I think it must be because you never had those years alone together. Without 
kids."
A small laugh slipped from Abby's throat, and she covered her mouth. Nicole was 
perceptive, but her reasoning was completely wrong. So wrong it was almost 
funny.
"Mom-" Nicole lowered her brow-by how can you laugh?" "Honey, I'm not laughing 
at you. It's just ... that wasn't the problem with your dad and me. Not at all."
Nicole was quiet for a moment. "Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I've been 
scared to death. Deep inside. Because there hasn't been enough time for Matt and 
me to bond, to build the kind of marriage that will last."
"Oh, Nic." Abby slipped her arms around Nicole's neck and hugged her. "Having 
children will only strengthen what you and Matt share. It did for your dad and 
me."
Nicole drew back and her eyes met
Abby's. "Then what happened? I know you and Dad have struggled. You try to hide 
it, but sometimes it's obvious."
"Have you noticed any problems lately? Say, since your wedding?" "Since my 
wedding?" Nicole worked free of Abby's embrace and 138 do out the full-length 
window. "I guess not." She spun around. ow come?" Abby stood and joined Nicole 
near the window. What exactly should she tell this precious daughter? How much 
should she say? cause having you nine months into our marriage was never the 
comcause of our problems." "What was?" "In a nutshell, we forgot to dance." 
Nicole squinted. "Meaning what?" A tired laugh slipped from Abby's throat. 
"Meaning ever since your dad and I moved to the house we live in, we would go 
out back and dance on the pier. Not real dancing. Just a sort of swaying back 
and forth, listening to the sounds around us and remembering what was 
important." "Really?" "Mmmhm." Abby felt a lump in her throat.
Had they shared their last dance? Was John really lying in a hospital room down 
the hall paralyzed? She banished the thoughts and found her voice again. "We ... 
we would talk about you and your brothers, about the good and bad times with 
your dad's job as coach, about
108 the victories and tragedies life dealt us over the years." "Did you talk 
about Haley Ann?" "Always." The lightness was gone from Abby's voice. "But about 
three years ago we stopped meeting out there, stopped taking time to talk about 
life and our place together in it." "Was that when Dad started being friends 
with Ms. Denton?" Abby nodded. "He wasn't the only one making mistakes, though. 
I spent more time talking with an editor friend of mine than with your dad. That 
didn't help. Pretty soon we felt like strangers."
"I didn't know it was that bad." "It was worse." Abby paused. If she told Nicole 
the whole story didn't, Nicole might not grow. I now, she might forever be jaded 
toward their marriage. But if she 139
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE "You never considered . . ." Nicole's voice faded.
"We did. Last year in fact." Abby stared out the window. A pair of birds were 
sitting in the tree outside. "Remember the day you and Matt announced your 
engagement?"
"Yes." Nicole let her head fall back a bit. "We were supposed to have a family 
meeting, but Matt showed up and we surprised everyone," "Us, most of all." Abby 
turned and met
Nicole's eyes. "We had picked that day to tell you kids it was over. We were 
going to get a divorce." "Mom!" Nicole backed up a step, her eyes wide. "No 
way!" "It's true. When you made your announcement, your dad and I met in the 
kitchen and decided we had to wait. We couldn't go through with it until you 
were back from your honeymoon."
Nicole grabbed her head and took slow steps back to the sofa. "It all makes 
sense now."
"What?" Abby turned and leaned against the window. "Every time I prayed, no 
matter what I was praying about, you and Dad were on my heart. I told Matt about 
it. He thought it was probably because you guys were under a lot of stress what 
with us getting married." Nicole uttered a sad chuckle. "I always thought it was 
something bigger. But not this big."
"We were at the end of our rope, Nicole. All I can tell you is we felt your 
prayers."
"So you mean, when Grandpa was dying that day and we were all gathered around 
his hospital bed ... you and Daddy were planning to divorce?" Abby nodded.
"That's unbelievable. I had no idea." A sudden look of alarm filled Nicole's
109 features. "Did Daddy have an affair?"
For months she had worked to keep this information from Nicole and the boys. Now 
... now she knew that hiding the truth had been wrong. God ... You want her to 
know, don't You? The truth will set you free ...
Abby let the verse roll around in the basement of her heart. Of 140 KAREN 
KINGSBURY 99 I
The truth wouldn't only set Abby free ... it would set Nicole as well. After 
all, Nicole was a married woman. She might have face something similar herself 
one day. It was crucial that she see truth here-that any marriage could be saved 
so long as both ple were willing to hear God's voice above their own. She drew a 
calming breath. God, help me say this so she can undernd ... "He came close. We 
both did." Nicole stood and paced to the window and back. "I don't believe it." 
She stopped in midstep, her voice angry. "What happened? How come you never made 
the announcement?" "The night of your wedding ... Dad had his things packed. He 
was going to move in with a friend after you and Matt took off for your 
honeymoon. 11 "Ms. Denton?"' Nicole's cheeks were pale, the dark circles under 
tier eyes more pronounced. "No, nothing like that. By then Ms. Denton had moved 
away. Her friendship with your father was over."
"Then who?"' "A divorced man, a teacher from the school." "That's terrible." 
Nicole sank back onto the sofa once more. "So what happened?"' "Sean and Kade 
went to friends" houses, and after you left, your dad did, too. Or he started 
to. He got halfway down the road before he turned around and came back. God 
wouldn't let him leave." "What about you?" There were doubts in Nicole's tone, 
but she looked less panicked than before. "I was angry and upset. Devastated, 
really. But too stubborn to stop him from leaving. I went upstairs and slipped 
on one of his sweatshirts. When I did, I found his journal." Abby could still 
picture the moment as clearly as if it had just happened. "I didn't even know he 
kept a journal until then."
"What'd it say?" "It talked about how sorry your father was for letting our 
marriage 141
,lilllllil illll I'l libbi Ileaillill
,11 hil to i ilk 11 it 11 be A TIME TO EMBRACE grow cold, how wrong he'd been to 
befriend Ms. Denton. How badly he wished things would work with me, but how 
certain he was that I'd
110 never be willing to try again."
"Was that when Dad came home?"
"No." Abby's vision grew dim and tears filled her eyes as she remembered. "I 
finished reading and went out to the pier, past the tables still set up from 
your wedding, past the empty glasses and crepe paper and streamers, out to the 
place where your dad and I had always connected." Abby glanced at Nicole. "A few 
minutes later, your dad came up behind me. He told me something I'll never 
forget."
"What?" There was the hint of hope in Nicole's eyes, and Abby knew she'd done 
the right thing. Her daughter needed to hear this story. Especially in light of 
all the years she and Matt had ahead of them. Abby closed her eyes for a moment. 
"He said he needed to tell me about the eagle." "The eagle?"
"When the eagle mates, he mates for life." Abby gazed into the distance again, 
seeing John the way he'd looked that night as he walked onto the pier, hands 
outstretched. "At some point in the eagles' courtship, the female eagle will fly 
to the highest heights and then free-fall to the ground. The male eagle will 
then swoop down and lock talons with her. In doing so, he conveys a simple 
message: he is committed to her."
"I didn't know that." Nicole's features were softer than they'd been all 
afternoon. "That's beautiful."
"Your father took my hands and told me he didn't ever want to let go again. 
Never. That if it killed him, he wanted to love me like an eagle loves his mate. 
Like the Lord wanted him to love me. Holding on until death made him finally let 
go."
Abby blinked and the memory faded. She looked at Nicole and saw tears in her 
eyes.
"So ... that was a turning point for you?" "Yes, very much so." Abby stroked 
Nicole's hand. "We're happier 142 KAREN KINGSBURY
"V@ ever, now. It was a miracle really. So, you see, honey. Don't be id about 
the baby. God will use this-and every other season of ur life, even the hard 
ones-to bring you closer to each other, and im." Nicole gave a sudden gasp. 
"Wait a minute. I just remembered someShe stared at Abby. "That night, when Matt 
and I were checking into our hotel, I had the strangest sense that God had 
talked to me." "About what?" "About you and Dad. Like He reached down, tapped me 
on the shoulder, and
111 told me my prayers for you had been heard." Nicole thought for a moment. "I 
even told Matt about it." A chill ran down Abby's spine. It really was You, Lord 
... thank You ... thank Y. "God's so much bigger than we give Him credit for. We 
see something like this accident and we think, @If only God would make it all 
better." But nothing gets by God, absolutely nothing. He has it all figured out, 
and one way or another, everything He does happens for a reason." Someone was 
approaching them, and Abby turned. It was Dr. Furin. This time he wasn't 
smiling. His steps were slow and measured, and he looked at both Abby and Nicole 
before taking a seat across from them. "Mrs. Reynolds, I'm afraid I don't have 
very good news." Nicole slid closer to Abby and linked hands with her. Calm, 
Abby ... be calm. Remember the words you just spoke ... God is in control. She 
found her voice. "Did you ... do the tests?" "Yes."
He frowned. "We did several. They all point to the same thing. The accident 
injured your husband's spinal cord in a very delicate area. The result is 
something we've been concerned about since the beginning." He paused. "Mrs. 
Reynolds, your husband is paralyzed from his waist down.
I'm sorry." As bad as the accident had been, as close as they'd come to losing 
John, Abby never for a minute believed this would be the final diagnosis. Not 
for John Reynolds. The doctor was saying something about 143
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE how if the injury had been a centimeter lower, he might 
have walked away from it ... but if it'd been a centimeter higher, it could have 
killed him. And something about rehabilitation and special wheelchairs. Nicole 
was crying softly, nodding as though everything the doctor said made perfect 
sense.
But Abby barely heard any of it. No longer was she sitting in a stuffy hospital 
waiting room getting the worst news of her life. She was fourteen again, 
stretched out on a blanket near the lakeside bonfire, with a young John beside 
her, tossing a football in the air, grinning at her, his blue eyes shimmering 
with the reflection of the moon on the water. You got a boyfriend, little Miss 
Abby Chapman? Then she was seventeen, seeing him for the first time in three 
years, just before he played in the Michigan football game. You're beautiful, 
Abby. Do you know that? Go out with me tonight, after the game
112 ... And suddenly he was on the field, reeling back and throwing a football 
like he was born to do so, running with it, bigger than life, the wind beneath 
his feet. The image disappeared and she was in a church, John gazing at her with 
all the love he could muster. I, John Reynolds, take you,
Abby Chapman, to be my lawfully wedded wife. Then they were dancing, but the 
image changed and they were in the Marion High gymnasium and Paula was telling 
them to keep the beat. "Mrs. Reynolds?"
Abby blinked, and the memories vanished. "Yes?"
"I said you two could go see him now. He knows about the diagnosis . He asked, 
and, well ... we thought he should know." "I don't want to go." Nicole's 
expression was etched with fear. She shook her head at Abby. "I can't see him. 
Not yet."
"Now?" Abby looked at Dr. Furin. She felt like she was underwater, like 
everything around her was happening in slow motion at a level she couldn't quite 
understand.
"Yes. He asked for you." The doctor stood. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Reynolds." Abby 
nodded, but her mind was numb, desperate for the chance to go back in time even 
a few minutes.
Back to the place where there was 144 KAREN KINGSBURY very a chance John might 
walk again. They'd lost so many years ... was really God's plan? That just when 
everything was better than ever, hn would be paralyzed? Abby's heart raced. How 
could she face him? What would she say? (john had spent his life using his legs. 
Even now, in his midforties, he ran as easily as he breathed. In the classroom 
he was the most active teacher on campus, spinning off impromptu comedy routines 
or outjumping the basketball players in his class to see whether they'd have a 
pop quiz that day. Once they'd gone to Chicago to see Riverdance. The next day 
John entered every class by Irish-dancing his way to the front of the room. No 
wonder the kids loved him. Deep in his heart, he was still one of them. And that 
was especially true now that he and Abby were happy again. It was as though a 
decade had slipped off the aging process for both of them. And now ... this? 
What would they do now that John would never walk again? Maybe never make love 
to her again? Her heart sank like an anchor. She hadn't thought about that 
before, the idea of never knowing John in that way again. It was unimaginable 
that their physical love might be a thing
113 of the past. What in the world was she supposed to say about that? Abby had 
no answers for herself. She was too terrified to cry, too shocked to feel 
anything except the certainty of one thing: John needed her. And because of 
that, she would go to him. Even if she had nothing to offer, no comforting words 
or bits of hope. She would hug him and love him and cling to him, talon to 
talon, even if life would never, ever be the same again. She entered his room 
without a sound, but his eyes found hers immediately. She made her way across 
the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "John . . ." Only then did the tears 
come. "I'm so sorry." There was a fresh bandage on his neck, where they'd pulled 
the tube. His body looked older somehow, smaller. Like he'd lost three 145
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE inches off his six-foot-four frame. Then, for the first 
time since the accident, he looked deep in her eyes and spoke. His voice was the 
only thing that hadn't changed.
"Tell me what happened, Abby." The words were painfully slow. His throat must 
have been raw after having tubes there for the past few days. "Tell me. I have 
to know." And for the next half hour, she did.
He said nothing while she shared the article and carefully told him every detail 
she was aware of. When she was finished, when the facts were laid out for him to 
accept or rage against, he spoke. What he said told Abby that the John she loved 
was still in there, that an accident could take his legs, but not his heart and 
soul. "How ..." He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. "How in the world is 
Jake?" CHUCK PARKER COULDN'T SLEEP. Sure, his son was facing hundreds of dollars 
in fines and who knew how many hours of community service for being involved in 
that stupid accident. And yeah, the boy had blown any chance of an athletic 
scholarship or even acceptance to one of the better schools. But that wasn't 
Chuck's trouble. Coach Reynolds was. The man was going to live, and Chuck 
supposed that was goodbut there was one detail about the accident that troubled 
him. What was Coach doing at the school after midnight? That detail-combined 
with others that had come out in yesterday's paper-kept him up most of the 
night. And that never happened to Chuck. Never. In fact before the accident he'd 
slept even better, mostly because he was so tired. The smear campaign he'd 
orchestrated against Coach since the season began was a tough job. For the past 
few months Chuck had worked the stands like a car salesman, sidling up to 
parents and subtly swaying them to his
114 way of thinking: Coach Reynolds needed to go. "He's a nice guy," Chuck would 
say to whomever he was seated 146
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE beside. "Don't get me wrong. But we have the most talented 
boys in all the state right here at Marion High. Our kids need a visionary, a 
coach with fire in his blood. Someone who understands today's kids. Besides, 
Coach Reynolds needs a break. He should concentrate on his younger son, spend 
more time with his family." Chuck smiled often in the course of such a 
statement, and before long-it almost never failed-the parent would be nodding 
and agreeing and making promises to attend one of Chuck's meetings. That was 
where the gloves came off. In those meetings, letters were formulated, plans 
were made. Coach Reynolds would be fired. He had to be. It was the parents' 
prerogative. Theyd held three such meetings so far, and after each, Chuck Parker 
made sure the athletic director got a report. "Herman, the parents want him out. 
The Eagles need a new direction." Most of the time Lutz would sit back in his 
office chair, mouth shut. Then, just to seal his plan, Chuck would remind Lutz 
of the drinking and street racing the players had done during summer training 
... "Is that the kind of coach you want at Marion High?" Chuck would raise his 
voice just enough to make Herman nervous. "Someone who looks the other way while 
the kids break every rule in the book? We need a coach with courage, a man 
who'll demand the best from our boys without compromising moral character."
The plan was working, too.
Lutz had assured him the last time that he was taking notes, making 
arrangements. Finally the man admitted the one thing Parker had longed to hear: 
"I'm not planning on renewing his contract, if that helps." Chuck could hardly 
believe it. Lutz was totally and utterly spineless. But that was the beauty of 
the situation. Herman Lutz was putty in his hands, and Coach Reynolds was all 
but fired. A few more games and it would be a done deal.
Of course, Chuck didn't really believe
Coach Reynolds knew about the drinking and street racing. Shoot, he wasn't even 
a bad coach.
But Reynolds had made a fatal mistake: he'd chosen to sit Chuck's son. 148
19, KAREN KINGSBURY Us Casey was one of the best quarterbacks in the state. 
Okay, so he had a few Fs on his report card. And yes, he
115 got in trouble sometimes for mouthing off to a teacher. So what? Casey was 
an intense kid, as driven as they came, one of those superathletes who-and Chuck 
was convinced of this-would one day lead an NCAA Division I team to a national 
championship. Or he would have, if Coach Reynolds hadn't been so particular 
about his players' attitudes. Jake Daniels wasn't a better QB. Just a better 
kiss-up. And now it was too late for Casey. His entire high school and college 
football careers had been ruined by Coach Reynolds's ridiculously high 
standards. But it wasn't too late for Billy. Chuck's younger son had an even 
better arm than Casey. The kid was a freshman this year, tearing up on the 
ninth-grade team. A fullride college scholarship was a given for a kid like 
Billy, and that would only be the beginning. Chuck believed fully that one day 
Billy would wear a Super Bowl ring. He could picture him, accepting the award of 
NFL Most Valuable Player. Too bad Billy's attitude was worse than
Casey's. Not a problem to Chuck. But to a man like Coach Reynolds? If Chuck 
didn't do something, Billy would wind up riding the bench just like his older 
brother. And Chuck simply could not have that. For that reason, the campaign 
against Coach Reynolds would've come regardless of the Eagles' wins and losses 
that year. The fact that they'd lost far more games than they should have only 
made Chuck's job that much easier. Especially with Herman Lutz in charge. What 
the man knew about scheduling and practices and sports in general could fit in 
an ashtray. But one thing Lutz knew: what it took to keep his job. And since the 
man was already making a poor showing, he absolutely insisted that his coaches 
win. All of it-the evenings spent working player parents, the after-hours 
meetings, the discussions with Herman Lutz-was going exactly as Parker planned, 
and not once had he had trouble sleeping.
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Until the accident.
There had been two articles in the paper since then. The first was factual. It 
told the story of the street racing and the seriousness of Coach Reynolds's 
injuries. There had been a chance the man would die. Of course, like everyone 
else, Chuck Parker prayed Coach would live. And like everyone else, he was 
relieved when Monday's
116 article said his condition had improved. But that wasn't all Monday's 
article had said.
The reporter had gone into the hospital waiting room and interviewed as many 
kids as he could find. It was their story-along with Coach being at school so 
late that night-that Chuck found most troubling.
According to the article, the kids at Marion High loved Coach Reynolds as much 
as they loved football. One player said that football and Coach were one and the 
same, and would forever be for anyone who called himself an Eagle. Their quotes 
told the story.
"Some Saturday mornings he shows up with bags of breakfast burgers, enough for 
the whole team."
"Coach cares about more than football. He's someone you can talk to and he'll 
always have the right advice. A lot of us think of him like a second dad."
"Every season we go to Coach's house for his famous Backyard Barbecue the night 
before one of the home games. He treats every one of us like sons. The thing 
with Coach is he loves us." The kids' statements felt like they were written in 
permanent ink across the stone tablet of Chuck Parker's heart. If Coach Reynolds 
was so wonderful, why hadn't Casey done better?
Coach's answer never changed on the matter: Casey had an attitude problem. Chuck 
had always dismissed that. His son was just intense and competitive.
But ever since the accident, Chuck wondered if maybe . . . just maybe ... Coach 
was right. 150 'a KAREN KINGSBURY 'uMore After all, what was Casey doing racing 
in the first place? The way the story went, Casey and Jake exchanged words at a 
party, and Casey challenged Jake to take it to the streets. The boy had been 
honest with the police, at least. It was his idea to race, his idea to beat Jake 
Daniels in at least one thing. And if it meant breaking the law, then so be it. 
Talk about a bad attitude! A defiant, privileged attitude that couldn't possibly 
help Casey succeed in life. All of which left Chuck wondering if maybe he'd been 
wrong about Coach Reynolds. There was only one reason Chuck could think of to be 
at the high school after midnight on game day. Reynolds must have been catching 
up on whatever it was teachers do when they're not coaching. Writing assignments 
... planning class time ... correcting papers. Something like that. It was 
something
117 Chuck hadn't ever considered. Coach Reynolds was just a hardworking, honest, 
devoted guy ... and Chuck had spent all season trying to undo him. He knew there 
wasn't one stitch of truth in what he'd wanted people to believe about Reynolds. 
The truth was there in the article. No wonder he couldn't sleep. It was Tuesday 
morning, and after another sleepless night, Chuck was so tired he felt drugged. 
He stumbled out of bed, splashed cold water on his face, and found his way down 
the stairs to the front porch. The newspaper was his window to the world these 
days. Casey was back at school, but he'd been kicked off the football team and 
couldn't drive. He was useless at providing Chuck with information about the 
case. But the paper would have something. The story had played on the front page 
each of the past two days. There was bound to be another update that morning. He 
picked up the paper, shuffled into the kitchen, and spread it out on the 
counter. The headline at the top of the page caught him cold, stopped his heart 
for more than a beat, and turned his stomach: Marion High Coach Paralyzed in 
Street Racing Accident. 151
11 I II
IllI'li 'iJikIA
IIHI'I'LIL ,lillilallyiilll illllli'illllli Illlli
Illlli, iii, cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE There had to be a mistake. Reynolds was in 
great physical shape, The guy was tall and built, probably as strong now as he'd 
been in his college heyday. A man like that couldn't be paralyzed. Chuck read 
the article.
Doctors announced Monday that Marion High Coach John Reynolds sustained a 
permanent spinal injury when his car was hit by a teenage street racer early 
Saturday morning. The injury has left Reynolds paralyzed from the waist down.
Chuck pushed the newspaper away. His stomach lurched and he bolted for the 
bathroom. There he fell to his knees and retched. Again and again his insides 
convulsed until he felt like his gut was turning inside out.
He fell back with a groan. What kind of creep was he, leading a charge against a 
man like John Reynolds? Coach had only done what was best for the kids at every 
turn. Even Chuck's own son. His stomach heaved again.
118 He leaned his head on his arm, drawing in deep breaths. Coach Reynolds 
wasn't the problem. Casey was. Casey and Billy . . . and most of all himself. He 
had used his charm and influence among the parents to convince them of lies, to 
sway their thinking and basically ruin a man who had given sixteen years of 
service to the Marion High football team. A man who had built the program with 
nothing but hard work and determination.
The spasms in his belly finally stopped, and Chuck Parker struggled to his feet. 
As he stooped to wash his hands and face, he was certain a mountain had sprung 
up between his shoulder blades.
How much of what had happened to Coach Reynolds was his fault? If he'd listened 
to Coach, if he'd done something about his son's attitude a few years ago, maybe 
Casey wouldn't have challenged Jake to a race. Maybe today they would merely be 
another high school about to enter the district play-offs, instead of front-page 
news, with a coach who could no longer walk. It was all his fault. 152 KAREN 
KINGSBURY 'c@ Not only that, but he'd been responsible for making Coach olds's 
last season with the Eagles nothing but a nightmare. Chuck dried his hands and 
turned away from the mirror. He uldn't look, couldn't face the man he'd become. 
But there was one ng he could do, something he should have done at the beginning 
the season. And in that instant he made the decision to do it. He would call in 
sick and spend the day making sure it happened. If he hurried, it might not be 
too late. Jake Daniels was arraigned before a judge in juvenile court. He still 
wore the jailhouse blues, and because the hearing required a public appearance, 
the escorting officer made certain he was cuffed. The moment Jake stepped into 
the courtroom he knew something was wrong. His mother and father sat almost 
together on one of the benches, but as he entered, they barely looked at him. 
His dad had paid for an attorney, some slick dresser named A. W. Bennington, who 
had an office downtown and a reputation for getting bad guys off easy. The kind 
of man Jake wouldn't have associated with-until now. "The judge will read your 
charges and ask you how you plead," A. W. had explained when the two of them met 
on Monday afternoon. "You'll plead not guilty. I'll do the rest." "Will they 
keep me here?" Jake didn't know why he asked. He didn't really care. Where would 
he go if they let him out? Not to the hospital with his other teammates,
119 who'd been holding vigil there. Not to Coach Reynolds's room. Hardly. And 
not back to school. He'd be a freak, someone the other kids whispered about and 
mocked and downright hated. Coach Reynolds was easily the favorite teacher on 
campus. Loyalty for him might have been shaky among the Eagle parents, but it 
was stronger than cement among the kids on campus. Besides, Jake belonged in 
jail. But A. W. had shaken his head. "You'll be out as soon as the hearing's 
over." 153
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE His mother and father had taken turns visiting him after 
the attorney left yesterday. They knew he'd be coming home, so why did they both 
look like they'd been handed a death sentence? Jake was led into the courtroom 
and took a seat at a long table. A. W. was already seated, looking far more 
dressed up than any of the other adults. No telling what his father had paid the 
man. Anything to keep Jake from spending a decade in prison. A. W. frowned at 
Jake and leaned close. "The coach is paralyzed. Your parents said it was in the 
paper this morning. Could make things a little tricky."
Jake spun around and found his mother. She was watching him, and as their eyes 
met, he saw she was crying. Slowly, firmly, she nodded her head and mouthed 
something Jake couldn't understand. He shifted his glance to his dad, who only 
bit his lip and looked down. The muscles in Jake's neck unwound, and his eyes 
found their way back to the front of the courtroom. He wanted to die, to simply 
hold his breath and let God take him away from the horror of living. Coach 
Reynolds was paralyzed. No, that wasn't it at all. He'd paralyzed Coach. That 
was the truth of the matter. He'd seen the pickup truck turn in front of him 
that night, hadn't he? He could have jerked his steering wheel and flipped his 
car. Sure, he might have died, but Coach would be fine. He'd been a selfish 
jerk, driving the car smack into the pickup. Now a man's life was ruined. A man 
Jake looked up to and respected, a man who was a hero to a thousand kids at 
least. Coach would never again take a lap with them or run plays with them or 
lead them in drills. The guys would never see Coach-his equipment bag slung over 
his shoulder, baseball cap low over his eyes-walking across the field toward 
practice. Never again. And it was all Jake's fault. He dropped his head in his 
hands. What had A. W. said a moment ago? It could make things a little tricky?
120 He gritted his teeth. Was that all that mattered to these people? Didn't 
they understand what he'd done? What he'd stolen from Coach Reynolds? "All 
rise." 154 KAREN KINGSBURY to The judge was a formidable looking woman with 
white hair and a pinched face. Good. Maybe she'll lock me up forever. A. W. was 
on his feet. He motioned for Jake to do the same. "Jake Daniels, you are being 
charged with a series of crimes that include the following." She read the list, 
but there was nothing new. Same things the officer had told him and his mother, 
the things A. Will had gone over with him yesterday. "At this point we are 
treating you as a minor. How do you plead to the charges?" Jake said the first 
words that came to mind. "Guilty, ma'am." "Just a minute, Your Honor." A. W. 
took a giant step in front of Jake and held up his hand. "May I have a word with 
my client in private?" The judge's forehead lifted. "Hurry. This is a busy 
place, counselor. Your client should have been prepped before coming here this 
morning." "Yes, Your Honor." A. W. sat and took a firm hold of Jake's blue 
cotton sleeve, pulling him down as well. He moved his lip almost on top of 
Jake's ear and hissed at him, "What're you doing?" Jake wasn't as careful about 
being quiet. "She asked me how I wanted to plead." "Keep your voice down." A. W. 
glared at him. He was so close it looked like he had one giant eyeball. "You're 
supposed to tell her, @ation guilty." Remember? Like we talked about." "But I am 
guilty. I did it. I hit
Coach's car, so why lie about it?" Jake was pretty sure A.w, was going to have a 
nervous breakdown. Sweat was beading on his upper lip. "We aren't talking about 
whether you hit the guy. We're talking about what sort of crime you should be 
charged with." A. Will's hands were shaking. "What we're saying today is that we 
don't think you're guilty of felony assault with a deadly weapon." The words 
swam around in Jake's head in no certain order. It felt like everyone in the 
room was staring at him, including his parents. Whatever the hearing meant, he 
had no choice but to cooperate. He sat back in his chair, his arms crossed. 
"Whatever." A. W. stared at him a bit longer as though he wasn't quite sure Jake 
155
Ill more
II' Us A TIME TO EMBRACE was ready
121 to speak the right answer. Then he gave a slow turn to the judge. "We're 
ready now, Your Honor." "Very well." The judge looked bored. "Will the defendant 
please rise?" She paused for effect. "Again." Jake stood. "How do you plead to 
the charges leveled against you?" He cast a quick glance at A. W. The man was 
staring at his notepad, refusing to watch. Jake looked at the judge once more. 
"Not guilty, Your Honor." "Very well. You may be seated." Immediately the other 
guy, the district attorney, rose and approached the judge. "The state would like 
to request that Jake Daniels be tried as an adult, Your Honor.
He is seventeen years old, mere months away from the legal age of adulthood." 
For a brief moment, the state's lawyer hung his head. When he looked at the 
judge again, he almost looked like he was going to cry. "We learned this morning 
that the victim in this case was paralyzed in the accident. His condition is 
permanent, Your Honor. Therefore, because of the severity of the crime, we are 
convinced Mr. Daniels should be tried as an adult." Jake wasn't sure what the 
difference was, exactly, only that A. W. didn't want him tried as an adult. Jake 
didn't care. The other lawyer was right. He wasn't a little kid. He'd known 
exactly how dangerous street racing was, but he'd done it anyway. The judge said 
something about making a decision in two weeks as to whether Jake would be tried 
as an adult or not. Then it was A. Will's turn again. He asked that Jake be 
released to his parents because he was really, basically, a good kid. No prior 
record, no alcohol in his system the night of the accident. Just a stupid 
mistake with tragic consequences. "I want his license revoked immediately." The 
judge made a notation on a pad of paper. "Also, I want him enrolled in a 
continuation school so that he isn't attending classes with the other young man 
involved in the case. With those stipulations, your motion is granted, 156 
counselor. Mr. Daniels may be released to his parents pending the outcome of his 
trial." The hearing was over as quickly as it had begun, and a uniformed man 
approached Jake. "Turn around." He did as he was told, and the man removed the 
handcuffs from Jake's wrist. A. W. smiled at Jake. "You're going home, Jake. 
You're a free man." But it was a lie. Coach Reynolds was paralyzed. And as long 
as Jake lived, he would never, ever be free again. 157
122 
Iil In ill lffII1," 111
IT WAS LIKE DRAGGING AROUND A HUNDRED POUNDS of dead weight.
Four weeks had passed since the accident, and doctors had moved John to a room 
in the rehabilitation unit. They had certain goals, certain benchmarks for him 
to attain: transferring himself from a bed to a wheelchair, and from a 
wheelchair to the toilet and back again. They wanted him to dress himself and 
know how to look for sores on his legs and torso. Today's lesson was about 
knowing when an open wound needed medical treatment.
"Sores represent an insidious threat, Mr. Reynolds." The physical therapist was 
slender, in his late thirties. Clearly he was passionate about his job, intent 
on bringing independence to those like John, who had recently joined the ranks 
of paraplegia.
John hoped the man would forgive him for being less than enthusi astic.
"Mr. Reynolds, are you listening?"
"Hmmm?" John hadn't realized how many people called him Coach until he'd been 
admitted to the hospital. Even after four weeks it didn't sound right ... Mr. 
Reynolds, not Coach Reynolds. It was as ugh the doctors and nurses and rehab 
technicians were talking ut someone altogether different than the man he'd once 
been. But then that was exactly right, wasn't it? He wasn't the man he'd not 
before the accident. "I'm sorry. Say it again." "Sores ... see, they develop on 
areas where your body gets rubbed on a regular basis. The problem is, with 
paralysis you can't feel the rubbing. The situation becomes especially dangerous 
after you've been in a state of paralysis for several months or more. That's 
when your body begins to show signs of muscle atrophy. Without the muscle 
barrier, bones have been known to rub clear through the skin. So you can see the 
problem, Mr. Reynolds." John wanted to knock the man over with his wheelchair. 
Better yet he wanted to yell, "Cut!" at the top of his lungs and watch a dozen 
stagehands rush onto the scene to tell him he could get up now. The filming was 
over. Of course, he could actually do neither of those things. If he wanted to 
get home before Christmas, he could only sit here and listen to some stranger 
tell him how his legs were going to waste away and that sores were going to 
appear on
123 his body in the process. John settled against the back of the wheelchair, 
his eyes on the man's mouth. It was still moving, still explaining the reality 
of John's situation in meticulously vivid detail. But John was no longer 
listening. His body might be a prisoner, but his mind could go wherever it 
wanted. And right now he wanted to think back over the past month. From the 
moment he'd come to that Saturday after the accident, John had known he was in 
trouble. He had no memory of the accident, nothing at all. One moment he was 
pulling out of the Marion High parking lot, the next he was waking up in a 
hospital bed, feeling like he was choking to death. And something else, 
something even worse. At first he'd been too distracted to notice. Abby was 
there, and Kade and Sean and Nicole and Matt. He'd known whatever was happening, 
it had to be serious if everyone was 159
I'pffliilgo
Ill llIH liilllll IIIII 4111, III;
li Ilj' Us A TIME TO EMBRACE gathered around him. He'd reached for his throat, 
and then the nurse had stepped in and warned him to stay still. The stiller the 
better. Calm me down, God. And in seconds he felt his body relax. The tubes 
weren't choking him; it only felt that way. The more he relaxed, the easier it 
was to breathe.
It was only then, when he was able to draw a breath more normally, that John 
realized it. Something was terribly wrong. His body ached from lying in one 
place and he wanted to stretch. His brain sent down a series of instantaneous 
commands. Toes-curl back ... feet-point forward ... ankles-roll around ... 
legs-shift positions. But his body wouldn't obey a single one.
Alarm shattered John's peacefulness, but he refused to let it show. His family 
was watching, looking to him for strength. Besides, at first he hoped maybe he 
was wrong. Maybe it was part of the medication they'd given him, something to 
make him tired and lethargic. A painkiller maybe. Perhaps his legs had been hurt 
in the accident and they were still under some kind of deep anesthesia.
By Sunday he still slept most of the time, but he was aware enough to know that 
none of those things should have taken away the feeling in his legs. That 
evening he began experimenting whenever he was awake. During the few minutes 
when no one was in the room, he'd slip his hand beneath the sheet and feel 
around. First his stomach, then
124 his hips and thighs.
Above his bellybutton he could feel his hand quite normally. He could sense the 
coolness of his fingers and feel pain when he pinched himself. But below that, 
nothing. No sensation whatsoever. It felt like he was touching someone else, as 
though someone had taken his lower half and replaced it with that of a stranger.
Then he'd glance around the room, and if no one was coming, he would stare at a 
part of his body and order it to move. His pelvis or his legs. Even his toes.
It was always the same: nothing. No movement. So when they pulled the tubes from 
his throat and performed a 160 KAREN KINGSBURY Us ies of It rays and tests on 
his back, John knew what they were lookfor. He could have saved them the time. 
Finally John asked what going on, what had happened to him. When Dr. Furin 
entered the Vim, closed the door, and announced that he had bad news, John beat 
behm to the punch. "I'm paralyzed, aren't I?" "Yes." The doctor looked pained. 
As though he wished he'd become a plumber or a lawyer or an accountant. Anything 
but a doctor forced to tell a healthy man like John Reynolds that he'd never 
walk again. "I'm afraid so. We were hoping once the swelling went down that ..." 
The doctor struggled to find the right words. "We were hoping the paralysis 
might be temporary." The moment John knew the truth, he had only one concern. 
How would Abby take the news? In those early hours, he'd refused to be 
devastated. He was up to the challenge, wasn't he? He would take to a wheelchair 
and do all the things he'd done before. And one day he'd learn to walk again, no 
matter what the doctors said. Not just walk, but run. Yes, he'd be running again 
in a few months or a few years. Whatever it took. He'd show the doctors how it 
could be done. The only thing that mattered was whether Abby could stand the 
shock. As soon as he saw her, he knew he needn't have worried. Her face was a 
direct reflection of her heart and the love she felt for him. A love that 
couldn't possibly be affected by something like paralysis. In her eyes was a 
strength that reflected his own. They would fight this thing, battle it. And one 
day, together, they would overcome it. Then, when she'd told him about the 
accident, that he'd been hit by none other than Jake Daniels, his concerns 
shifted completely to the boy. Jake would be devastated by the news, distraught 
beyond his ability to carry on. For the next two weeks John survived by praying 
for Jake,
125 begging God to bring good out of what had happened, asking Him to give Jake 
the courage to visit John. That way the boy could see for himself that John 
wasn't about to check out on life just because of a lack of feeling in his legs. 
161
A TIME TO EMBRACE Hardly.
One of his visitors that first week had been Nathan Pike, The but looked 
uncomfortable, dressed in his usual black garb. But comet was different ... It 
took John a few minutes to figure it out, but ee it was clear. The defiance was 
gone. this
"I heard what happened." Nathan scuffed his feet around, his hands stuffed in 
his pockets. "I had to come. Health class's no fun without you."
John chuckled. "Health's not much fun, anyway." "Yeah." Nathan shrugged. "You 
know what I mean." There was a silence, and Nathan looked uncomfortable. "You 
okay, Nathan?"
Actually ... about what happened at the game ... I was gonna call you up the 
next day, but then ... well ..." He stared at his feet. "You know. You got 
hurt."
"What'd you want to talk about?"
"The threat ... whatever it was." He lifted his head, his eyes more earnest than 
John had ever seen them. "Mr. Reynolds, I didn't do it. I swear. I've done a lot 
of stupid things, but I didn't do that. I was at the library all day. Really."
"Okay." It went against all reason, but John believed him. "Whatever you say."
"You believe me, right?"
John made a fist and brought his knuckles up against Nathan's. "I believe you."
"You know something, Coach?" "What?" "You're the only one who does."
There were other visitors after that, dozens of students and players. All of 
them helped distract John from the gravity of his situation. But when John 
started rehabilitation, the reality came crashing in on him.
John had told Abby that after a few days of therapy, he was certain he would 
have movement in his toes again. At least that. 162 KAREN KINGSBURY 'ca, a 
therapist spent the better parts of two days teaching him slide from the bed to 
his wheelchair. Movement in his toes or else beneath his waist was as impossible 
as willing a body not another person to move.
126 nw much rehabilitation before I'll be able to move my feet?" asked Dr. Furin 
the question on the evening of the second day any. every doctor had been on his 
way out of the room and he stopped, not in his tracks. "Mr. Reynolds, paralysis 
is a permanent condiSome people have made miraculous strides, depending on their 
ation. But at this point we don't expect you to have feeling your legs ever 
again. No matter how much time we spend on about." It was the first time since 
his accident that John had felt anger. Then why bother?" "Because-was Dr. 
Furin's voice was kind-by if we don't, you'll never get out of bed." The answer 
infuriated John, and he told Abby as much that night. "They could at least give 
me a reason to hope." Abby had been strong as steel, rarely crying-at least not 
in front of him. He knew her well enough to know she was crying somewhere, 
sometime. But he appreciated the fact that she kept her chin up around him. She 
had worked her way onto the hospital bed and soothed her fingers over his weary 
forehead. "Since when do you find your hope in what doctors tell you, John 
Reynolds?" His anger had faded. "I hadn't thought of that." "Yep." A smile 
filled her face. "That's why you have me. To remind you of the truth." "That my 
hope can only be found in God, is that it?" "Exactly." "Okay, then, Abby ... you 
gotta do something for me." "What's that?" 163
'Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE "Pray for a miracle." His eyes were wet, and he blinked 
twice to see her more clearly. "Don't ever stop praying."
In the days since then, the Marion Eagles finished their football season with a 
second-round play-off loss. John's assistant coaches had taken over since his 
accident, and a quarterback from the junior varsity squad was brought up to lead 
the team. Nearly all the players and coaches had been by, most of them making 
only a brief appearance to bring John a signed football or a card or a bouquet 
of balloons.
When the season ended, the visits tapered off and John put his energies entirely 
into rehabilitation.
Day by day, he learned the things his therapists asked of him. He could balance 
his torso with the strength of his arms and swing himself into a wheelchair. His 
efforts at getting on a toilet were trickier, but he could do so unassisted now. 
In fact, Dr. Furin had
127 assured him that he was maybe one week away from going home.
"Definitely before Christmas." Dr. Furin had grinned at him the other day. "I'll 
bet that's the best news you've heard in a while." It should have been, but 
somehow it wasn't. After a month in the hospital, a month of not coming a single 
centimeter closer to moving his feet or legs, John's usually fiery determination 
was cooling fast. Christmas? From a wheelchair?
The past few days he still prayed for a miracle, but not with any real sense of 
it actually happening. He was no longer thinking about fighting his diagnosis or 
beating the odds or somehow gaining the ability to walk again.
Rather, he was thinking of all that he'd lost. Last night was the first time 
Abby had noticed it. She gave him the update about Jake. The judge had delayed 
making a decision about whether to try the boy as an adult, and at the same 
time, the district attorney was refusing any sort of plea bargain. The hearing 
on how he 164 KAREN KINGSBURY 't uld be tried was set to take place in ten days. 
But either way, it ked like Jake would have to stand trial. When Abby was 
finished talking, she planted her hands on her ps. "John Reynolds, you're not 
even listening." John blinked. "I'm listening. That's too bad. About Jake, I 
mean." "Too bad?" Abby huffed. "When you first got hurt, you couldn't stand the 
thought of Jake going to jail. Now it's just, @too bad'?" "I'm sorry." "Don't be 
sorry, John, be mad. Be furious. Be upset. But don't lie there with that 
monotone and say you're sorry. That's not the man I married." John's voice 
remained the same. "You're right." "What's that mean?" "I'm not the man you 
married, Abby. I've lost the fight." "You've what8"Abby seethed, pacing from one 
side of his hospital room to the other. "Don't tell me about losing the fight, 
John. The fight hasn't even begun! You can't ask me to pray for a miracle if 
you've already given up. I mean, come on ..." The conversation went on that way 
for an hour until finally Abby broke down and wept. She apologized for expecting 
so much and assured him he had the right to be discouraged. Before she left, she 
admitted he wasn't the only one. She was discouraged, too. No wonder he couldn't 
concentrate on the therapist and bedsores. For entire hours of the day-even in 
the midst of rehabilitationJohn could do nothing but
128 remember. How the earth felt beneath his feet as he flew down the football 
field; how easily he'd strolled in front of his classroom day in, day out for 
the past twenty years. How his children had bounced on his knee as babies, and 
how he'd carried them on his back when they walked through the zoo. How Abby's 
legs felt near his when they danced at the end of the pier. How her body felt 
beneath him when they"Mr. Reynolds, I'd like you to explain it back to me now." 
The slender therapist tapped his clipboard, his expression one of scant 
tolerance.
Us" A TIME TO EMBRACE "How often should you check your body for sores, 
especially after atro phy sets in? Have you heard anything I've told you? Mr. 
Reynolds?" John looked at the man, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. The 
miracles he'd expected weren't happening, and he'd reached the next stage in 
what would be the rest of his life. The life without danc ing or running or 
making love to Abby. It was a stage he hadn't antici pated, hadn't planned for. 
And for one reason alone it was more painful than even the first days after 
learning he'd been paralyzed. Reality was setting in. ABBY HAD NEVER FELT MORE
STRESSED IN ALL HER LIFE. In part, she wanted a glorious homecoming. It was 
Christmastime, after all. They should have had the tree up and decorated, their 
home looking festive like it always did. She pictured a houseful of guests there 
to greet John as he arrived, and sweet conversation throughout the evening. But 
John wanted nothing of the sort. "Just get me home and let me sit in the living 
room with my fam ily, Abby. Nothing else." She spent every waking hour trying to 
be whatever John needed at the moment. When he was subdued, she was the quiet 
supporter. When he was angry, the patient listener. And when he showed signs of 
determination, of a willingness to fight the terrible curse that had come upon 
him, she cheered him on. If she couldn't read his mood, she maintained a false 
sense of euphoria-her way of convincing him that she was okay with his 
paralysis, that the changes in their life were not enough to take away her joy. 
But it was all a lie. She wasn't happy. Hadn't been since John's accident. But 
she owed 166
Ui A TIME TO EMBRACE it to John to appear happy and positive. He needed that 
from her. The trouble was, she had nowhere to let her guard down, nowhere to 
weep and wail against the twists life
129 had taken.
And so she kept it bottled deep inside her heart, where the only thing it did 
was make her a basket case. Anxious and uptight and alone. In the end, Abby did 
as John asked and kept his homecoming celebration to a minimum. Kade, who had 
gone back to school to finish the football season and the semester, was home for 
a month on Christmas break. He and Sean had picked out a tree and brought it 
home before John's arrival. Nicole and Matt and Jo and Denny had helped decorate 
it.
Dr. Furin released John at one that afternoon, and an hour later Abby and he 
pulled up in front of their house. She turned off the engine, and for a moment 
neither of them moved.
"Can you imagine, Abby?" John stared at the front door of their home. "I'll 
never drive again. Have you thought about that? I mean never again."
"You'll drive, John. They have hand-operated vehicles set up for people with-was
"Abby, can you just let me accept the truth for a minute?" His tone was sharp, 
but immediately he let his head fall back against the seat. "Ugggh. I'm sorry." 
He looked at her, and she could see the heavy fatigue in his eyes, his features.
"I didn't mean to snap at you." "I was trying to help. They have special cars . 
. . lifts ... that kind of thing." Abby's hands trembled and she couldn't draw a 
full breath. How was it going to feel, pushing John into their house? Knowing he 
would never walk up to the door beside her again? She clenched her teeth. She'd 
keep her sadness at bay if it killed her. John deserved at least that.
"Do you know how much we take for granted? The little things in life? Like 
jumping in a car, and driving, and running up the sidewalk to your front door?"
Abby held her breath. "I know." Did he want her to cry with him, 168 KAREN 
KINGSBURY More or play the role of encourager? And what about her feelings? The 
loss she was suffering? She blew out a shaky breath and filled her lungs again. 
"Let's go in. The kids are waiting." John nodded and opened the door. Looking 
like the athlete he still was, he swung his legs out of the car. Abby tried not 
to notice the grotesque way they hung limp and fell onto the curb. He did his 
best to straighten them, but it didn't help. He looked back at her, and she 
jerked into action. "I'll get the chair." John hung his head while she hurried
130 around, popped the trunk, and heaved his wheelchair onto the road. Abby 
tightened her jacket. It was cold but at least it wasn't snowing. For nearly a 
minute she struggled with the latch, ripping a fingernail off in the process. 
"Yikes." She shook her hand to stave off the pain. "What's wrong?" John craned 
his head but he couldn't see her bloody nail base. "Nothing." Abby blinked back 
tears. How strange it felt to be struggling this way and not have John's help. 
He was ten feet away. Just ten lousy feet. But he couldn't stand up and help 
her. "I'm ... I'm trying to open the chair, but it's stuck." "The latches are on 
both sides. Can you see them?" John was trying, doing his best to help her, but 
she needed more than his suggestions. She needed his strength. "They won't 
budge." She pulled at it again, this time with more force. Don't let him hear me 
crying, God ... "It doesn't work." Abby struggled a moment more, and then in a 
flurry of angry frustration, she tossed the wheelchair on the grass beside the 
curb. "I hate that thing!" She fell against the side of the car and hid her face 
in her arms. "I hate it!" "About'cc)y, come here." John's voice was gentle. She 
wanted to turn and run a hundred thousand miles away, off to some place where 
John didn't need a wheelchair to get into the house. But that wouldn't do any 
good. 169
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TIME TO EMBRACE God, I'm falling apart. Catch me, Lord ... please, catch me. 
Lean not on your own understanding ...
It was the same Scripture that had come to her the last time she felt this way. 
What could it mean, though? Lean not on her own understanding? Was there a 
different way to understand the things that had happened in their lives? Could 
there be a good aspect to John's paralysis ... his
Abby didn't see it.
"Did you hear me, Abby? You're killing me." John's tone was louder now "You're 
crying, and there's nothing I can do about it. Not a single thing. At least come 
here so I can hold you."
A quick pain sliced into her, cutting her to the quick. She hadn't thought of 
that before. How helpless he would
131 feel. Always before if she was upset, he could come to her. Now he couldn't 
even do that. She dried her face and went to him, falling to her knees before 
him. His legs were in the way, so she put her hands on his thighs and pushed 
them apart. It wasn't the first time she'd moved them on his behalf, but she 
still wasn't used to the sensation. They didn't move easily, but slow and heavy, 
like the legs of a dead person.
When the space between his knees was big enough, she moved closer, pressing her 
body against his and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for crying. 
This was supposed to be a happy moment." "Aahhh, Abby." John nuzzled his face 
alongside hers. "There's nothing happy about it."
"Yes, there is." She spoke near his ear. "You're alive, John. And you're home in 
time for Christmas. That's plenty to be happy about." "So those are tears of 
joy?" He ran his lips lightly along the side of her neck.
"I hate your chair."
"It's my only source of freedom. My only way to get around anymore, Abby."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He brought his lips to hers and kissed her, soft and tender. 170 
KAREN KINGSBURY us" en he came up for a breath, he caught her eyes. "I hate it, 
too." There was a sound behind Abby and she looked over her shoulder. that was 
Kade, bounding down the walkway. "Hey, what's taking so long? We're in there 
waiting, and you two are out here hugging or something." Abby studied their 
older son. The pain in his eyes was a mile deep, but his smile was genuine. Abby 
stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. Her finger still throbbed where the nail 
ripped. "I can't open the chair." "Is that all?" Kade reached for the 
wheelchair, checked the latches on both sides, and then with the toe of his 
shoe, he flipped a third near the base. With a single flick of his wrist, the 
chair opened, and Kade snapped it into position. He did a sweeping bow. "Your 
chariot, sir."
Abby stepped back, awed. "I fought with that stupid chair forever." She shook 
her head. "How'd you know how to work it?" "I practiced at the hospital." Kade 
shrugged one shoulder. "Too much time on my hands, I guess." Abby watched as 
Kade positioned the chair in front of John, then slid his forearms beneath his 
father's armpits and eased him onto the padded seat. The scene made Abby's
132 heart catch. How must John feel?
John who had always been stronger than Kade ... John the mentor and teacher and 
coach ... now having to be lifted onto a wheelchair? By his son? And what about 
Kade? The boy was only eighteen, yet he gave the impression that helping John 
this way was a routine event. When John was buckled into his chair, Kade took 
the handles and pushed him up the walk. "Well, Dad ..." Kade opened the front 
door and wheeled John inside.
"Welcome home." And with that, a new chapter of their lives began. The black 
cloud that had settled in around John was darker than ever. He appreciated the 
reception and was grateful to be home and surrounded by his family. But no 
matter where his mind settled, it always 171
Rather A TIME TO EMBRACE wound up in the same sorry place: deep in self-pity and 
regret. A place from which he simply couldn't escape.
Sure, he went through the motions. He accepted his family's cards and 
well-wishes and encouraging statements about how good he looked and how 
wonderful it was that he'd survived.
But all the while he could only think of one thing: Why me, Lord? Why now, when 
Abby and I had just worked things out? When we were just learning to dance 
again? Since coming home, he'd been short with Abby, short with anyone who had 
an answer for his poor attitude. He didn't want a wheelchair van, or an 
invitation to the Special Olympics. He wanted to walk. Just once more ... so he 
could savor every step and appreciate the feel of his shoes on his feet, wonder 
at the balance in his legs and the graceful way it felt when he jogged around 
the track at Marion High.
Just one more day to say good-bye to the legs that had gotten him through every 
major event in his life. Not that it would help, really. One day wouldn't be 
enough. But if he could only move his feet and legs again now, he'd appreciate 
them every day for the rest of his life. Too bad that wasn't going to happen. 
And neither was any other good thing until he could find in God the strength to 
will away the black cloud.
Two hours after getting home, the kids had returned to their activities. Abby 
was in the kitchen, but John still sat in the chair, facing out the front 
window.
God, I know You're still there, watching me, loving me. You have a plan for my 
life, even now ...
133 "But what could it possibly be?" His ragged whisper tore through the silence 
around him. "What good am like?"
Another hour passed. At least three times John thought of something he wanted to 
get or look at or check somewhere in the house. Each time he would grab hold of 
the chair's armrests and make an attempt to stand.
And each time his body would jerk up against the safety belt and 172 KAREN 
KINGSBURY Ma ap back into place. He realized what the problem was. He didn't yet 
bethink like a paralyzed person. His brain still gave him reasons to move ,and 
stand and walk, but his legs no longer heard the discussion. He wondered if it 
was this way for everyone who suffered from sudden paralysis. And if so, how 
long would it be until his mind gave up, too? Until his brain no longer thought 
of his legs as anything more than dead weight? John had always loved the view 
out the front window of his house. Trees and a winding drive that looked like 
something out of a painting. But right then he couldn't take another moment of 
sitting in one place. He worked the muscles in his jaw and slipped his hands 
around the wheels on either side of his chair. Specially designed for 
paraplegics-people who still had the use of their arms-the wheelchair maneuvered 
more easily than most. John gave the wheels two hard shoves-and zipped backward 
so fast he crashed into the coffee table. "John?" Abby's voice was filled with 
alarm. She appeared at the doorway, drying her hands on a towel. "Are you okay?" 
He glanced at her, then let his gaze fall to his knees. "I'm fine, Abby. Every 
time I crash the chair into something doesn't mean there's a crisis." The moment 
he said the words he was sorry. Why did he have to take out his frustration on 
her? She came to him, slowly, tentatively. "I'm not worried about the table." He 
could smell her perfume, feel her presence beside him. Normally on a day like 
this he would tickle her or pin her playfully against the wall until she begged 
for mercy. Then, if the kids were busy, they might wind up in their bedroom for 
the better part of an hour. His longing for her was still as strong, but how 
spontaneous could he possibly be now? Even if they were able to find a way to be 
physically intimate-which the therapist insisted was possible-it would require 
the type of planning that had never marked their lovemaking. 173
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE She rested her hand
134 on his shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?" "Nothing." He reached up and 
held her hand, savoring her skin against his, hoping she could feel how badly he 
wanted her. "I'm sorry, Abby.
I've been a jerk lately. You don't deserve it." "It'll take time. Dr. Furin ... 
the therapists ... everyone says so." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "Life 
won't always feel like this." "I know." He caught her face between his fingers 
and brought his lips to hers. They kissed again, longer than they had outside a 
few hours earlier. "Pray that we find a way to live again, okay?" "I am, John." 
Her eyes glistened, and he knew her heart. She had probably been praying for him 
constantly. More than he'd prayed for himself.
He realized then where he wanted to be. "Abby, take me outside. To the pier, 
could you do that?"
"The pier?" She hesitated. "It's a little cold, don't you think?" Abby was 
right. Temperatures were in the low thirties that day. But John didn't care. He 
wanted to sit out there in that familiar spot and watch the lake, look for signs 
that God was listening, that He hadn't walked away and left John to live out his 
days suffocating beneath a sad, dark cloud.
"I'll wear my jacket. Please,
Abby. I need to be out there." "Okay." She breathed out a little louder than 
usual. Loud enough to tell John that she didn't think it a good idea. People 
with paralysis rarely got enough exercise to fully expand their lungs. 
Diminished lung function meant a greater risk of pneumonia. Knowing Abby, she 
would have preferred John stay indoors all winter.
She found his jacket, the one with the Marion Eagles insignia across the back 
and over the front left pocket. After she helped him slide into it, she wheeled 
him out the patio door and into the backyard. Abby had hired a handyman to build 
a wheelchair ramp up and over the sliding door tracks, and down from the deck to 
the yard below. Once they reached the grass, the ride was bumpy, but John didn't 
mind. 174 KAREN KINGSBURY 99 ere was another ramp from the ground to the pier, 
and Abby fed to get him up and onto the flat surface. "Good?" "Closer to the 
water." "John, think about your safety." She positioned herself in front of 
where he could see her. "The pier has a slope to it. If your brake from) so... 
If his brake failed, the wheelchair would roll forward and fall into
dise water, taking John with it. The lake was
135 deep enough at the end of the pier that unless someone saw it happen, John 
wouldn't have a chance. "It won't fail." He looked straight at her.
"Come on, Abby. I can't tch the lake from back here." "Fine." She released the 
brake with her foot and pushed him almost to the edge. He could hear her jam the 
lever down and give it a test push. "Is that better?"' 11
He twisted around so he could see her. She was angry. "Thank you. She planted 
her hands on her hips. "When do you want to come in?"' If it weren't for the 
brake, he would've made his way inside by himself. But when the back brake was 
in place, John couldn't move without someone releasing it. "An hour." Very Her 
hands fell to her sides again. "I'm sorry, John. We'll have to find our way 
through this. I just ... I wouldn't know what to do if you fell in, and . . ." 
She hung her head for a moment before finding his eyes once more. "I can't lose 
you, John. I need you too much." His neck burned from craning toward her, but he 
nodded. "I'm okay, Abby. I promise." She held his gaze a few seconds longer, 
then turned and went back in the house. John relaxed his neck and stared out 
over the lake. His other injuries were healed now, his throat and a few cuts and 
bruises on his face and arms. The accident had thrown him onto the truck's 
floorboard, breaking his neck in the sudden jolt. Other than that, he'd fared 
miraculously well. But why? What 175
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE could God have left for him now? The next several months 
would be focused on rehabilitation, which meant he was unable to teach. He could 
go back in the fall if he wanted, but it would be tough. The con. stant pity he 
was bound to receive would get old after a few days, let alone another ten 
years.
John watched a couple row out toward the middle of the lake and cast a line. All 
his life he'd made his mark through sports. What good was he now, like this? And 
what sense did it make that Jake Daniels would spend the rest of his life paying 
for it? Yes, Jake shouldn't have agreed to race. But what about his father, Tim? 
Wasn't he partially to blame for buying the boy a car that cried to be driven at 
high speeds? John had no idea how the boy was doing. Jake and his family had 
sent John a card, apologizing and wishing him a quick recovery. None of them had 
been by to see him.
"So, what am I going to do with the rest of my
136 life, Lord?" The words dissipated in the cool breeze that blew up from the 
lake. He remembered a verse he'd loved as a boy, one that had helped him last 
year when it seemed he and Abby would divorce: Jeremiah 29:11. "I know the plans 
I have for you ... plans to give you hope and a future, and not to harm you. His
Okay, so if that was true, what were the plans ... and how was he supposed to 
get through the next several decades feeling anything but harmed? Most of all, 
where was the hope?
His thoughts were interrupted by the back door opening. The muscles in his neck 
still hurt from the way he'd craned around to see her earlier. He waited until 
she was standing in front of him. "That was the district attorney on the phone. 
The hearing to determine whether Jake will be tried as an adult is tomorrow 
morning." Abby's voice was flat. "He said the judge might be more likely to 
decide in our favor if you're there in person."
John cocked his head to one side. "What's in our favor?" "Obviously the D.a. 
assumes we want Jake tried as an adult." Abby sighed. "The penalties are much 
tougher that way." KAREN KINGSBURY will; a ,hn's head was spinning. Seeing Jake 
sentenced to prison as an that would be as devastating a blow as the accident. 
"You sound like agree." She squatted down, resting her knees on the pier and 
sitting back her heels. "I don't know what I think." Her eyes fell to his 
wheeletter. "People shouldn't race their cars on city streets." "Putting Jake in 
prison will change that?" Abby's voice was barely audible. "I don't know." John 
leaned forward and took gentle hold of Abby's shoulder. "Don't you think Jake's 
learned his lesson?" "I'm not sure." She looked up at him again. "I suppose."
"I'm serious, Abby. Do you think a day will ever come when Jake Daniels agrees 
to race like that again?" "No." She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. 
"He won't. I'm sure of it." "So why send the kid to prison?" John was surprised 
at the sudden passion in his voice, his heart. "Send him to a dozen high schools 
where he can tell other kids not to race. Send him to college and pray that he 
grows up to teach or coach or pass the joy of playing football on to hundreds of 
kids like himself." He shook his head and glanced away before meeting Abby's 
eyes again. "The district attorney is doing what he thinks is best. That's
137 his job. But I know Jake Daniels.
Prison won't help him or me or anyone else. And it won't stop the next kid from 
saying yes to a street race." A hint of fire sparked in Abby's eyes, something 
he hadn't seen since his accident. In a flash of realization, John understood. 
Hearing determination in his voice was a victory, a milestone. The corners of 
her mouth lifted just a bit. "What should I tell the D.a.?" John clenched his 
fingers around the wheels of his chair. For the first time in weeks, he had a 
purpose. "Tell him I'll be there." 176 IN
IIIIIII i
II gill
11 40JAKE DANIELS WAS SITTING
BETWEEN HIS PARENTS AND his attorney when he saw something that made his stomach 
turn. The glimpse of a wheelchair.
Before he could do anything to stop the moment, before he could hide or cover 
his eyes or turn and run, the rest of the wheelchair appeared. In it was Coach 
Reynolds, being pushed by his wife. The adults around Jake turned to see what he 
was looking at, and A. Will muttered an expletive under his breath. "We don't 
have a chance if he testifies."
Jake's parents were quick to turn back toward the front of the courtroom. But 
Jake couldn't stop looking, couldn't take his eyes off his coach. If it wasn't 
for the Marion Eagles baseball cap he wore, Jake would barely have recognized 
him. He'd lost weight-a lot of weight. And he looked smaller, older somehow.
For a moment, Coach didn't see him, but then he turned before Jake could look 
away, and their eyes met. Jake was spellbound, unable to blink or breathe or 
move. He'd spent hours imagining what Coach looked like in a wheelchair, how sad 
it would be to see such a tall, strong man condemned to spend the rest of his 
life sitting down. KAREN KINGSBURY More But Jake had never expected this. From 
across the courtroom, Coach Reynolds smiled at him. Not ,the big, full-faced 
smile he had in the locker room after an Eagles victory, or the silly smile he 
wore when he was pulling some crazy stunt for his health class. But a sad sort 
of smile that told Jake's stunned heart that his coach didn't hate him. Coach 
nodded once at Jake, then Mrs. Reynolds wheeled him to the
138 corner of the courtroom at the end of one of the spectator benches. She sat 
beside him, and the two began to whisper. "Jake, you need to know how serious 
this is." A. W. seemed irritated at the exchange that had just taken place 
between Jake and the coach. "If Mr. Reynolds testifies, the judge will almost 
certainly decide to try you as an adult." "Coach." "What?" A. W. pushed his 
glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Jake turned to look his attorney 
straight in the eyes. "Coach Reynolds. Not Mr. Reynolds.
Okay?" "Jake, your attorney is only trying to help." Jake's father put an arm 
around his shoulders and looked at A. W. "This is the first time he's seen Coach 
Reynolds since the accident." The attorney waved his hand near his face as 
though his father's information was trivial. "The point is, Jake's in trouble. 
If the judge decides to try him as an adult, we'll have to ask for a significant 
continuance. We're looking at three to ten if he's convicted." "You don't really 
think that'll happen, do you?" His mother was rubbing her hands together. A 
habit she'd picked up in the past six weeks. "Even if he's tried as an adult he 
could be acquitted, right?"
"It's very complicated." A. W. took out a pad of paper and a pen and began 
diagraming. "There are several ways a jury could look at it, starting with the 
felony assault charge and ..." Jake tuned out and positioned his head just far 
enough to the side so he could see Coach Reynolds and his wife. They were still 
talking, their heads bowed together. After a few seconds, the district attorney 
179
li
I'I cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE joined them. The conversation between the three didn't 
last long, and then the attorney took his seat on the other side of the table. 
Jake was being rude; he knew it. But he couldn't force himself to look away. 
Seeing Coach in a wheelchair was the most horrible thing he could imagine. Get 
up, Coach ... run around the room and tell us its all a big joke. Something 
you'd pull in one of your health classes. Please!
But the man didn't move a bit.
The hearing would start any minute, and for the first time since hitting Coach's 
pickup truck, Jake didn't want to run away. He wanted to get up and go to Coach, 
tell him how much he'd missed him and how sorry he was. How sorry he would 
always
139 
Then Jake saw something even worse. Coach's foot slipped off the chair and hung 
loose and limp to one side. And this was the awful part-Coach didn't even 
notice! It was his wife who saw it first. She stooped down and lifted his 
foot-like it was a book or a plant or something-and set it back on the chair.
Jake felt tears well up. Coach, no!
How was it possible? Coach couldn't even feel his own feet? Was it that bad? 
Jake brushed a single tear off his cheek. Since his parents' divorce, he'd spent 
little time praying. But he had prayed once. When he'd desperately needed help, 
in the moments after hitting Coach's truck. Back then Jake had screamed out for 
God's help. And God had brought it.
So, why not do the same thing here and now? Jake closed his eyes. God, its me 
Jake
Daniels. I'm sure You know I've ruined everything. My whole lifer shot but the 
sad thing is, my coachs life is shot, too. And it wasn't his fault, not at all. 
So You see, God, I have this favor to ask. I believe You can do anything, God. 
You can make blind people see and deaf people hear-at least that's what my 
Sunday school teacher used to say. Tears streamed down his face, but none of the 
adults around him seemed to notice. God, I remember a story about a paralyzed 
man. He had a mat with him, I think. And a bunch of friends. And Lord, I know 
180 KAREN KINGSBURY very roll made him walk again. I'm pretty sure one minute he 
was lying there nd the next he was walking around. Jake opened his eyes and 
snuck another quick look at Coach. So, please, God ... could You do the same 
thing for Coach Reynolds? Could You make him walk again and run again? Just do 
whatever You did to that other guy and let him have his legs back. Please, God. 
How long had it been since he'd prayed that way? Jake wasn't sure, but it felt 
wonderful. And even though his parents told him Coach would always be paralyzed, 
Jake was sure God could change that if He wanted to. Coach caught his eye, and 
Jake made a quick turn toward his parents. He dried his cheeks and stared at his 
mom and dad, hating the way they listened to everything A. W. said. The attorney 
saw Coach as the enemy ... but his parents didn't feel that way, did they? Not 
that many years ago his parents had been friends with the Reynoldses. Jake 
sniffed and studied his
140 parents. What was going on with them, anyway? Now that the trial was coming 
up, his father had taken a personal leave from work. He was staying at a hotel 
not far from where Jake and his mother lived. Jake spent the days at 
continuation school, wondering why he wasn't in jail where he belonged. But what 
about his dad? Where was he spending the days lately? At his mother's house? If 
so, were they getting along or just trying to figure out what to do if Jake went 
to prison? They still sat with space between them, so there couldn't be anything 
that good happening. The space between them was the first sign there'd been 
problems between them, back before their fighting overtook the house. Lately, 
though, they hadn't fought once. Not since this whole mess with the accident. 
The judge walked in and the hearing began. The woman had already heard from 
Jake's parents on why he should be tried as a minor, but now she glanced around 
the courtroom and asked A. W. a 181
i; A TIME TO EMBRACE question. "Is there any new evidence the court should 
consider before making a decision in this matter?"
Jake's attorney stood for a moment. "None, Your Honor." The judge turned to the 
district attorney. "Counselor?" The man stood and looked toward the back of the 
room. "Yes. The state would like to call Mr. John Reynolds to the stand."
Jake could hardly breathe as Mrs. Reynolds wheeled Coach to the front of the 
courtroom. This was the part where Coach would say how wrong it was to street 
race, and how Jake must have known what he was doing.
But Jake didn't care. He deserved whatever happened next. The only thing that 
mattered was Coach's legs, and whether this would be the moment God would choose 
to heal him. Or if that would come sometime later. 182 EVERY EYE WAS ON JOHN.
Abby knew they were staring at him, thinking him painfully thin with useless 
legs strapped to a prison of metal and wheels-but it didn't matter. She couldn't 
have been more proud of him. His back was still sore, and this morning the pain 
had been so bad he could hardly sit up. But still he'd come. The district 
attorney didn't know what he was in for. Abby parked the wheelchair near the 
witness stand. She took a seat in the front row, not far from John. When he had 
stated his name for the record and explained his role in the hearing, the judge 
turned the floor over to the state. "Proceed with your witness." "Thank you,
141 Your Honor." The district attorney was a plain-looking man whose square jaw 
was his most prominent feature. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and inexpensive 
dress pants, but he looked kind. Abby hoped he would understand what John was 
about to do. The attorney walked John through a series of quick questions, 
designed to put him at the scene and verify for the court that his paralysis 
was, in fact, the result of Jake Daniels's street racing. "Mr. Reynolds, let's 
talk about the defendant for a moment." The
Ui A TIME TO EMBRACE attorney kept his distance. Probably so he wouldn't block 
the judge's view of John in his wheelchair. "You know Jake Daniels, don't you?" 
Abby's heart raced. Here it was.
"Yes, I do." John cast a look at
Jake. Abby followed his gaze, but Jake was studying his folded hands. John 
turned back to the district attorney. "I've known him for several years."
"You've seen him grow up; would you say that, Mr. Reynolds?" "Yes." John rested 
his hands on his lap. "I've seen him grow up." "Now, Mr. Reynolds, you're aware 
that this court is about to decide whether the defendant should be tried as an 
adult, is that correct?" "Yes, I'm aware."
"Is it your understanding that the defendant is only months away from his 
eighteenth birthday, an age that would make him legally an adult?"
"It is."
"Very well then, Mr. Reynolds, is it your opinion that a young man almost 
eighteen years old, who agrees to participate in an illegal street race, should 
be tried as an adult?"
Abby caught a glimpse of Jake's parents. They were both grimacing, holding their 
breath while they waited for John's condemnation. It never came.
"No, sir, I don't believe Jake
Daniels should be tried as an adult." John looked at Jake while he spoke. "Jake 
is one of the good kids, actually. In the months before the accident, he had 
shown significant maturity, choosing to go his own way instead of following his 
peers." John paused, and the district attorney pounced. "Now, let me see if I'm 
understanding this correctly, Mr. Reynolds. You saw significant maturity in the 
defendant in the months leading up to the accident, but you don't think
142 he should be tried as an adult. Is that right?" "Exactly." John smiled at 
the D.a. "See, the fact that someone like Jake could be at a parry, refusing to 
drink and in general being a good example for the others seems proof that he is 
capable of standing trial as an adult." 184 KAREN KINGSBURY Us by shifted her 
gaze to Jake's parents. Tara was quietly crying, her do over her mouth. Tim had 
his arm around Jake. Their faces were uded in disbelief. John continued. "But 
anytime a good kid like Jake agrees to someg as terribly wrong as street racing, 
I can only surmise one thing." hn hesitated. "He's still a kid. A kid who used 
poor judgment to every a bad choice." He looked at Jake, and this time the boy 
lifted his eyes. He was crying, and in that moment, everyone in the courtroom 
must've seen the truth. Jake wasn't a man; he was a boy. A frightened, 
shame-filled, guilty boy who would have given his life to take back the 
consequences of his decisions that awful Friday night. The district attorney 
deflated like a worn out tire. "Is that all, Mr. Reynolds?" "Not really." John 
rotated his chair so he could better see the judge. "Your Honor, I'd like to go 
on record saying that I don't believe jail time is best for a boy like Jake. If 
he was a repeat offender, that would be different. But Jake isn't a defiant kid.
He's not anxious to get his license back so he can go out and race again. He 
doesn't need prison time; he needs to take his story back into the schools, to 
talk to kids and tell them the truth about street racing. I'm willing to bet 
everyone who hears him will feel what he's feeling. And maybe then we'll stop 
this from happening to someone else." He nodded once. "That's all, Your Honor." 
John wheeled himself back to Abby. In his eyes she saw hope. A hope she'd been 
afraid was gone forever. I "You did good." "Thanks." In the background, Abby 
vaguely heard the D.a. call for a meeting with the judge. Before she had time to 
give it much thought, the hearing was over and Jake's attorney was at their 
side. He kept his chin low, his hands clasped behind his back, a properly meek 
stance in light of John's condition. But the exuberance in his face was 
undeniable. 185
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE It made Abby's stomach turn. John hadn't given his speech 
to make a defense attorney look good. He had given it to save Jake, a boy he 
knew and
143 trusted and still believed in.
The attorney effused on about John's graciousness, his act of kindness. But 
before John could respond, the judge called the hearing back to order.
"In light of the testimony given today by the victim in this case-was the judge 
glanced in Jake's direction-by I have decided to hand the defendant over to be 
tried as a juvenile."
Behind them, Abby heard Jake's mother contain a cry. The hum of whispering 
overshadowed the judge's words, and she rapped her gavel on the bench. "That 
will be enough of that." The room fell quiet once more, and the judge looked at 
the D.a. "The attorney for the state has asked for time to talk with the 
defendant's attorney about a plea bargain. They will set that meeting up, and we 
will convene again in three weeks to determine if this case will require a trial 
or not." Abby flashed a look at Jake's attorney. The man was grinning, shaking 
Tara's hand and then Tim's, and finally Jake's. Again, the windows in Abby's 
soul shook with frustration, until she caught the expressions on the Danielses' 
faces. Jake and his family were not smiling. Their attorney might have seen 
today's outcome as merely a legal victory, but not the Daniels family. They were 
as painfully aware as she that John was still paralyzed.
Whatever penalty the courts meted out to Jake, in many ways they were all 
losers.
The hearing was over, and Jake's attorney pulled Jake aside. Abby stood and 
wheeled John around. As she did, her gaze landed squarely on Tara and Tim 
Daniels. Tara was gathering her things when her eyes met Abby's. The two of them 
hadn't spoken since the accident. Other than their sympathy card, they'd kept 
their distance. Abby understood. It was as tumultuous a time for the Daniels 
family as it was for hers.
Abby wheeled John closer, maneuvering him between the defense 186 KAREN 
KINGSBURY le and the first row of spectator benches. Her heart beat faster than 
shad all day. LTHE moment grew more awkward until finally John broke the nce. 
"Tara ... how's it going?" "I'm-was Tara's voice cracked. She and Tim moved 
closer, and the ur of them formed a small circle. Taro's eyes filled, and she 
took every more step toward John. As she did, John reached up his hand, do she 
took it, her fingers trembling. "I'm so sorry. We
144 would've en by but ... I didn't know what to say." She lifted her eyes. "I'm 
lorry, Abby." The tears came in streams. Abby moved around john's chair and took 
Tara in her arms. "Jake didn't want this any more than we did." She kept her 
voice soft, her sobs muted. Their hug ended, and they stood there, each planted 
in the awkward soil of unfortunate circumstances. Tim cleared his throat and met 
John's gaze. "It's been a long time." "It has." John shook the man's hand. "You 
never said goodbye." "The situation wasn't-was Tim glanced at Tara. "It wasn't 
good, John. I'm sorry." He pressed on.
"You remarried now?" "No." Tim's cheeks grew red. "I took a leave from work. 
I've been staying at a hotel in town." Again he looked at Tara, and something 
curious washed over Abby's heart. were Tara and Tim having feelings for each 
other? After years of being divorced? Tim shifted his gaze back to John. "We've 
been talking about a lot of things. Why I left, for instance. And why we 
couldn't make it work." John glanced back at Abby, then leaned forward slightly. 
"Would it shock you to know that Abby and I nearly made a decision to divorce 
this past summer?" Taros eyes flew open. "Abby? You and John?" "We'd been 
talking about it for three years." Abby wanted to stand on the judge's bench and 
shout John's praises. He was the one whose life had been forever changed because 
of the accident, yet here he was getting to the heart of an issue that-for 
him-would always be even
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE closer to his heart than his legs: the dissolution of 
marriages. Especially Christian marriages.
Tim stuffed his hands in his pants pocket. "So ... what happened? I mean ... 
you're still together."
"We remembered why we got married and all the memories we'd made along the way. 
And most of all how dismal the future looked if we didn't have us anymore." John 
craned his neck again until his eyes found Abby's. Then he returned his 
attention to Tim. "Things are better than they've ever been."
Tara wiped at a tear and sniffed. "Tim wants us to talk about taking another try 
at being married." She shook her head. "But I can't do it. The divorce about 
killed us the first time. A second failure would do me in."
"I tell you what ..." John reached back for
145 Abby's hand, and she came up alongside him. Sincerity rang from his voice. 
"As long as you're in town, how about you and Tara come by the house a few 
nights a week? Just to talk things through."
Abby caught John's vision, and her heart leaped. "Maybe we can share something 
from our story that'll help you." Tara looked doubtful. "I don't know."
They were quiet for a while, then Tim looked at the ground, his feet restless. 
When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. his:cc"m sorry, John. About 
your legs."
John shrugged, his expression more at peace than it had been in weeks. "It 
wasn't your fault."
"I bought the car." Tim's face was ashen. "Tara was right. It was the wrong 
thing for a teenage boy. I'll ... live with that the rest of my life." Ten feet 
away, the defense attorney patted Jake on the shoulder and made a quick exit. 
When he was gone, Jake stared at the four of them, then approached with clearly 
hesitant feet. Abby studied the boy. She wasn't sure what she felt. Sometimes 
she hated him. Jake's decision had cost John his ability to walk, and changed 
their lives forever. But other times ... 188 KAREN KINGSBURY Rather She simply 
didn't know.
This was one of those times. When Jake reached them, he looked at his parents. 
"Can I have a minute with Coach?" "Of course." Tara collected her things and she 
and Tim moved toward the door. "We'll be out here when you're done." Abby gave 
John's shoulder a light squeeze. "Want me to leave?" "No." Jake answered before 
John could speak. "Please, Mrs. Reynolds ... I want you to hear what I'm going 
to say." Abby pulled a chair from the defense table and positioned it near John. 
When she was seated, Jake crossed his arms and inhaled. Abby tried to read the 
boy's eyes. Was this a thank-you speech concocted by his attorney? Or was there 
something real on Jake's heart? Even before he spoke, Abby knew it was the 
latter. "Coach, my attorney just got done telling me I was lucky." Jake huffed 
and the air left his body in a single burst. "Can you believe that?" John said 
nothing, just kept his gaze on Jake and waited. "I want you and Mrs. Reynolds to 
know that no matter what happens with the hearing in a few weeks, I am not 
lucky." Jake's eyes welled, but he didn't cry. "I made a stupid decision, and it 
... it ..." He bit his lip and
146 hung his head. For a long time he stayed that way, and Abby understood. His 
emotions were too near the surface to let go now. Not when he had more to say. 
Jake held his breath and looked at John again. "It was my fault, Coach. I never 
should've raced him. Never." The boy's knees shook. "I saw your truck pull out 
that night, but I was going too fast. I couldn't stop." Abby's heart fell. God 
... couldn't You have held john back an extra minute? Enough time to spare him 
this? Lean not on your own understanding, daughter ... She blinked. The strange 
words that played across her soul felt almost like a direct response from God. 
Andwiththe same Scripture that had come to mind again and again.
Is that You, God? 189
Like 111 to IffIlll 141I lilllll 11 II I it
11 cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE I have told you these things, so that in Me you may 
have peace. In the world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome 
the world. Jake was going on, explaining how quickly the accident had happened, 
but Abby wasn't listening. Chills had gone down her spine the moment the 
Scripture flashed in her heart. It was a verse she'd read that morning in her 
devotion time. In fact, she and John had looked at it a little while ago ... 
after Nicole's wedding, when they first began reading the Bible together again.
It was the perfect verse, the one that described their situation exactly. She 
understood that now even more than she had back in the hospital in the days 
after John's accident. The Word of God, His promises, these things God had 
spoken to them so that they would have peace. In the world they would have 
trouble-most definitely. First on the football field with parents and the 
administration. And then with John's accident.
But in the end, though they didn't see it now, God would win. God would always 
win. He would win over deceitful parents and spineless administrators; He would 
win over John's car accident, and even his paralysis.
He would win even if John spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Jake was 
saying something about Casey Parker leaving the scene and then coming back to 
call for help. "We were so scared, Coach. We thought you were gonna die." The 
boy squirmed, his tears finally splashing onto his tennis shoes. "I'm so sorry." 
Jake sank into a chair across
147 from John and let his head fall into hands. "I'd give anything to take back 
those few minutes."
Casey Parker hadn't been to see John, either. Ever since finding out that the 
boy's father had written the notes about John, Abby wondered if the man was 
maybe glad about what had happened to John. Not that he'd been injured, of 
course, but that he wouldn't be coaching. It was an awful thing to think, but 
Abby couldn't help herself. She was a coach's wife, after all. And people tended 
to reserve some of their greatest disdain and poorest behavior for coaches. It 
was a fact of American life. 190 KAREN
KINGSBURY "Ma John was thinking those things, he never mentioned them. He leaned 
forward now as far as he could and gripped Jake's knees.
every, look at me." John's voice was kind, but stern. The same tone by had heard 
him use with their own children when they were not on themselves. Jake barely 
lifted his head and then let his fingers cover his face rice more. "I'm serious, 
Jake. Drop the hands and look at me." Abby was quiet, watching from her place at 
his side. This was the John she knew and loved, the one who would see something 
wrong and right it with a passion that couldn't be contrived-or resisted. This 
time Jake's hands fell to his lap, and he met John's gaze. Tears ran down both 
sides of his face. "Coach, don't make me look at you. It's too hard." The sorrow 
in Jake's eyes softened Abby's heart. He really was just a kid, a boy drowning 
in a river of guilt, with no way of reaching the other side. John leaned closer 
still. "Jake, I forgive you. It was an accident." "It was stupid!" Jake's 
features twisted and he uttered a soundless cry. "You're in a chair, Coach. 
Because of me! I can't take that." A single sob slipped from Jake's throat. "I 
want them to put me in prison. That way I don't have to pretend my life is fine 
when I'm the one who wrecked yours." "You didn't wreck my life. There's nothing 
I can't do if I work hard enough, and I'm going to work, Jake; you better 
believe it. I never let you boys settle for second, and I'm certainly not going 
to settle for second, now." Abby's heart skipped a beat.
This from the man who sat alone on their pier the day before, isolated and 
discouraged? She wanted to raise both hands and scream in victory, but she 
resisted. Jake rubbed his knuckles into his forehead and shook his head. "It 
isn't right, Coach. What you did for
148 me today. I don't deserve it." "It is right. You do no one any good sitting 
in a prison cell, Jake. 191
More A TIME TO EMBRACE You made a bad decision, and your life changed in a few 
seconds. Mine, too. But you won't save anyone by sitting behind bars. Not the 
next street-race victim, not yourself. And definitely not me. You need to be out 
there sharing that message, telling kids to say no if someone challenges them to 
a race. That way you'll save lives."
"Coach-was torment wracked Jake's face again-by that's not enough punishment. 
How can I look in the mirror? I mean ... it's crazy. You and your family ... you 
could never really forgive me for what I did. You shouldn't forgive me."
"Jake . . John's tone was quieter than before. "I already have." "Don't say 
that."
Abby closed her eyes. She could sense what was coming. Don't make me forgive 
him, too, God. Not yet ...
John settled back in his chair some. "The minute Abby told me what happened ... 
that it was you driving the other car ... I made a decision deep inside to 
forgive you." John gave a single sad sort of laugh. "How could I hold it against 
you? It was an accident, Jake. Besides, you're like a son to me. I forgive you 
completely." Abby shifted in her chair.
Speak, daughter ... forgive as I forgave you ...
The prompting in Abby's soul was undeniable. Lord . . . please. Don't make me 
say it now.
He doesn't need my forgiveness. "Abby does, too." John turned to her, his eyes 
so transparent she could see straight to his heart. Whatever other feelings John 
might wrestle with in the coming months and years, she doubted a lack of 
forgiveness would be one of them. He was being honest with Jake. He harbored no 
resentment or ill will toward the boy. None at all. John was still looking at 
her, waiting. "Tell him, Abby. You forgive him, right?"'
"Of course." She had to say it for John; she could sort out her feelings later. 
"We all do."
Jake hung his head again. "I hate myself." "Then there's the real problem. 
Forgiving yourself." John dug his 192 elbows into his knees, and Abby was struck 
by a thought. He can't feel it ...
149 like he's resting his arms on a table or a desk.
Jake was silent. "Then that's what I'll pray for-" John bit the corner of his 
lip"that God will give you the grace to forgive yourself. The way He forgives 
you." "God?" Jake's eyes lifted once more. "Someone like God isn't about to 
forgive me. Coach, it was my fault!"
"Have you told Him you're sorry?" "Yes!" The pain intensified. "A dozen times 
that first night. But still ... I need to pay my penalty. I wouldn't expect God 
or you or ... or Mrs.
Reynolds ... or anyone else to forgive me until I've gone to prison for a long, 
long time." "So I can make up for it." "Make up for taking away my legs?" John's 
eyes showed the hint of a sparkle, and the corners of his mouth lifted. "You'd 
have to be in there an awful long time if that were true. Because I had some 
mighty fast legs, Daniels. Mighty fast." Again, Abby wanted to clap or shout out 
loud. John was joking! Playing up on an old bit of banter he and Jake had 
exchanged since Jake was a middle-school boy. Back in the days when his parents 
would come over for the occasional Sunday dinner. Abby could still hear them, 
still see them the way they'd been five years earlier. Jake's family would enter 
the house and John would welcome them. Jake would put himself toe-to-toe with 
John, his eyes wide. You gotta race me, Coach; I'm getting faster! And John-whom 
Jake had always called Coach-would give a soft laugh. I don't know, fake. I have 
some mighty fast legs. To which Jake would raise an eyebrow and pretend to punch 
John's shoulder. Come on, Coach, they're not that fast. Nothing like mine! 
Chills danced across Abby's arms as she understood. John was 193
IIIEAIII@II ingli
to I 11 11 I',
More A TIME TO EMBRACE tossing Jake a life rope, a chance to be rescued from the 
waters of guilt.
Abby stood stone still, her eyes on the weeping boy. Suddenly the lines around 
his eyes and forehead eased.
"Come on, Coach-was his voice cracked, and a tear slid onto his cheek-by they 
weren't that fast. Nothing ... nothing like mine." "Thatta boy, Jake." John gave 
him a light smack on the
150 knee. "I may be paralyzed, but I'm not dead. I don't want you hanging your 
head every time we see each other. Because then I lose twice." "Twice?"
"My legs ... and then you." John paused. "Don't do that to me, Jake. It'll be 
hard enough getting my routine down without wondering whether you're okay or 
not."
Once again Jake let the tears come. As he did, he looked twelve, and Abby felt 
her heart grow still softer toward him. Maybe she could forgive him, after all.
"But I'm so sorry. I gotta do something, Coach. Something to make it right."
"Listen, Jake ... every time you walk into an auditorium packed with teenagers 
and tell them your story, I want you to remember something." His voice dropped a 
notch. "I'm with you, Daniels. Right there beside you, step by step. And that'll 
make everything right." 194 NICOLE WAS NAUSEOUS NEARLY
EVERY DAY. Not because of morning sickness. That had passed weeks ago. Now that 
she was almost halfway through her pregnancy, the sick feeling came from one 
thing: it was almost Christmas, and her dad still couldn't feel anything in his 
legs or feet. The moment she'd heard the news about his paralysis that terrible 
afternoon in the hospital waiting room, Nicole prayed. Since then she'd spent 
hours pleading with God, believing He would work a miracle in her father. She 
had no idea how it would come about, just that it would. It had to. Every time 
she prayed about something and had this feeling, things went the way they were 
supposed to. But as the days passed, her prayers slowed and finally stopped. In 
the process she'd come to grips with something that turned her stomach. Things 
didn't always go the way they were supposed to. If they did, she wouldn't have 
gotten pregnant for another three years, her parents would never have argued, 
never considered divorce. More to the point, Christians wouldn't lose loved ones 
to illnesses and accidents. They'd never suffer from depression or pain or money 
troubles.
They'd certainly never be paralyzed. to I
More A TIME TO EMBRACE No, if things always went the way they were supposed to, 
they'd never have anything but blue skies until the day-as a very old 
person-they would lie down at night and wake up in the arms of Jesus. But that 
wasn't how it
151 worked. And the truth of that left her with a sort of sick feeling about her 
faith, a feeling as new as marriage and loss and disappointment.
Maybe God intended to use her father's injuries as a way to change the kids at 
Marion High School. Nicole didn't like that option, but it was a possibility. 
She'd heard rumors from Kade-who still kept in touch with a few kids at Marion 
High. Talk around school was that since her dad's accident attitudes had 
improved and kids were kinder than they'd been before. There was even talk of 
some sort of "Coach Reynolds town meeting," though neither Nicole nor Kade had 
mentioned that to their father.
He had enough on his mind, what with learning to get around in a wheelchair and 
coming to grips with his injury.
If that's why God had allowed her father's injury, Nicole should have felt some 
sort of quiet peace, a sense that the Scripture in Romans was right, that all 
things really did work to the good for those who loved God.
But she didn't feel that way at all. She just felt nauseous.
Her doctor had warned her that constant anxiety wasn't good for the baby. After 
that she'd made a promise to Matt and herself to spend more time reading 
Scripture and praying, trying to ease the stress. But every time she tried to 
read a favorite verse or talk to God, she found herself thinking about the 
accident. Why had God allowed it? Couldn't her father have left the office five 
minutes earlier? Seconds later? After all her parents had been through, after 
their hearts and souls had finally come back together? After Dad had been going 
to church with them again?
The questions Nicole had for God outweighed the things she wanted to pray about, 
so her anxiety remained. It wasn't that she was 196 KAREN KINGSBURY cUs 'gry at 
God, exactly. She just wasn't sure she could trust Him. The truth about these 
feelings was something she didn't share with anyone. Even herself. Because the 
Nicole Reynolds she'd been until her dad's accident would never have doubted 
God. That old Nicole had been more aware of God's whispered voice, more reliant 
on Bible verses and prayer, than anyone in her family. Only lately had Nicole 
finally understood the reason for her deep faith. It had nothing to do with 
believing she was better than the others, or somehow having a greater need than 
the others for God's peace and presence. No, that wasn't the reason at all. The 
reason was Haley Ann. Which was something else
152 she hadn't shared with anyone. No one knew she remembered losing her little 
sister. She might have been not quite two years old, but there were scenes from 
that sad day that stayed with her still, written with the indelible ink of a 
little girl's tears. Haley Ann had been sleeping in her crib, taking a nap, 
Nicole understood now. Most of the details were fuzzy, but Nicole could still 
close her eyes and see big men rushing into Haley Ann's room, working over her, 
trying to get her to breathe. Everyone assumed that because Nicole was young, 
she didn't grieve back then. But Haley Ann was her sister! Her only sister. 
Nicole remembered one conversation she'd had with her mother about losing Haley 
Ann. "She's in heaven now, darling." Her mother had been crying the way she did 
a lot back then. "But as long as you love God, you'll always be only a whisper 
away from her. Understand?" Nicole had understood better than Abby could have 
imagined. If loving God was the way to be closer to Haley Ann's memory, she 
would do so with all her heart. And she had. Every month, every year ... until 
now. Now everything had changed, and the reason was obvious. She simply wasn't 
sure she could trust God anymore. Not with her deepest
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE prayers and concerns. After all, she had prayed for the 
safety of everyone in her family. The very morning of the accident in fact. But 
that night, there she was, in the hospital beside her mother, wondering what had 
gone wrong.
Wondering where God had been when they'd needed Him most. The feelings she had 
about the entire matter only added to her anxiety. Even worse, Matt talked 
constantly about God's will this and God's best that and God's miraculous hand 
in saving her dad's life. He would find her at the most inopportune times-when 
she was working on a homework assignment or folding laundry or getting ready for 
school.
Two nights ago they'd had their first real fight over the issue. She'd been on 
the Internet looking for bargains on eBay.com when he came up behind her and 
massaged her shoulders. His tone was even gentler than his fingertips. "Nicole, 
get off the computer."
She gave him a quick glance over her shoulder. "Why?" "Because you're running."
"From what?" Her attention was back on the computer screen and the list of items 
there.
153 Matt breathed out in a sudden burst. "From everything. From talking to me 
... from your dad's situation ... from your pregnancy." He hesitated. "From 
God."
Even now Nicole wasn't sure why his comments made her so angry. Words began 
tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Who are you to tell me 
what I'm running from?" She spun the chair around and glared at him. "Just 
because I don't want to delve into the deeper meaning on every topic doesn't 
mean I'm running." "Praying with your husband isn't exactly delving into the 
deeper meaning, Nicole."
"Okay, fine. You want me to pray, I'll pray. But don't ask me to put my heart 
into it because I can't. Right now I need a little time before I go calling on 
God." very KAREN KINGSBURY More
Matt had looked at her, clearly dumbfounded. "You don't sound anything like the 
girl I married." "Thanks a lot." "I'm serious. You used to talk about God 
constantly. Now you'd rather pretend He doesn't exist." "That isn't it." She 
huffed. "It's just that there isn't a lot left for me to ask Him. Let my dad's 
legs be okay?
Too late. Let us wait and have babies in a few years. Done deal. I'm not 
running, Matt.
I guess I just don't see the point in praying." Matt motioned to the computer. 
"And playing on eBay will help you work through that?" "It's better than wasting 
every moment praying when in the end God will do whatever He wants." Matt had 
stared at her for a long time after that. When he spoke, his voice was quieter 
than before. As long as one of us still believes in prayer, I want you to know 
something." Nicole was silent, her cheeks burning. "I'll be praying for you, 
Nicole. That God will help you remember who you are." Since then his words had 
played in her head, easing their way across her heart. What was wrong with her 
anyway? She still believed in prayer, didn't she? After a lifetime of seeing 
God's answers, her life's situations now couldn't be enough to actually shake 
her faith, could they? She slipped into a black stretch skirt and a white silk 
blouse.
Her belly was protruding now, but not so much that she needed maternity clothes. 
She was grateful. It was Christmas Eve, and they were invited, along with Jo and 
Denny, to her parents for dinner. Matt's parents were already downstairs with 
Matt, waiting for her. Nicole grabbed a pair of black hose, and as she slipped 
them on, her eyes fell on a Scripture plaque near their bed. It was a verse
154 from Hebrews, one that had always been a favorite of Matt's. @Let us fix our 
eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith ... 198 in 199
More A TIME TO EMBRACE The pantyhose fell still in Nicole's hands. Maybe that 
was her problem. She hadn't had her eyes fixed on Jesus much. Not since her 
father's accident. They'd been fixed on his injury, her pregnancy, and the 
sorrow and frustrations that went along with both. But not on Jesus.
Wasn't there another Bible verse about God being the author ... of something? 
Nicole closed her eyes for a moment, and it came to her. The author of life. 
That was it. God was called the author of life. And if He was the author, it was 
His decision whether some characters would go
through life unscathed or whether they'd fall victim to a car wreck.
The idea didn't ease Nicole's burden.
And it certainly didn't increase her desire to pray. If God was the author, then 
the book was already written. They could love God, and He could love them. But 
prayer wasn't going to change anything. Not if the pages had already been 
written. "Nicole, are you ready?" Matt's voice carried up the stairs. They'd 
both apologized since the fight the other day, but nothing had been the same 
between them. Matt thought she'd changed, and she thought he'd become 
insensitive. It was one more thing to add to the list. She stuck her head out 
the door. "In a minute."
"Hurry." He shot a look at the clock on the wall. "We're already late."
Nicole began working on her pantyhose again. "Merry Christmas to you, too." She 
hissed the words quietly, so Matt wouldn't hear her. As she did, she sat on the 
edge of the bed and raised one foot. She was pulling the hose up past her ankles 
when it happened. Deep within her she felt a fluttering.
As though someone was tickling her from the inside. Nicole's heartbeat 
quickened, and she stayed still. Was that what she thought it was? Nearly a 
minute passed and it happened again. It felt like the paws of a sleepy kitten, 
tapping at her from somewhere behind her lower abdomen.
When it happened a third time, Nicole knew. It wasn't a kitten. It was her baby. 
The baby she had never quite accepted, never quite 200 KAREN
155 KINGSBURY en happy about. But now here this little child was, moving and 
etching and becoming. The beautiful sunrise of vibrant joy exIloded in Nicole's 
heart. God was knitting a new life within her! How could she be anything but 
thrilled with that truth? She hugged herself, wondering for the first time what 
the baby would be like. A boy or girl? Tall like Kade or bigger-boned like Matt? 
With her mother's intensity or her father's determination? Tears stung at her 
eyes, but she refused to cry. Whatever other problems she needed to work 
through, Nicole was suddenly ready to love this child within her. And maybe one 
of these days she'd be ready to talk to God again, too. The door burst open and 
Matt stared at her. "It's been five minutes, Nic. What're you doing?"
A single laugh bubbled up from Nicole's throat. "The baby ..." Matt entered the 
room and took a few steps closer, his expression blank. "What about the baby?" 
"I felt the baby move,
Matt." Another breathy chuckle slipped from her mouth. "Just a few little 
flutterings, but I'm sure that's what it was." "Really?" The tension around 
Matt's eyes eased. He moved onto the bed beside her and lay his hand on her 
tummy. "You won't be able to feel it." She covered his hand with hers. "It was 
soft. I would've missed it if I hadn't been sitting here." Matt's eyes met hers. 
"You sound happy about it." Had her disappointment been that obvious? Nicole's 
heart grieved at the thought. "Of course I'm happy." She leaned over and kissed 
him. For a moment he looked at her, his eyes full of questions. But just
when she thought he was going to ask her about prayer and God and her attitude, 
he smiled. "Let's get to your parents' house and tell them." Nicole's love for 
Matt swelled as it hadn't in months. He wanted so badly to fix her, to make her 
feel and think and act the way she used to. But here, when he could have used 
this moment as a way
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE convincing her that
God was working in her life, he'd been willing to wait. "Thanks, Matt. For not 
pushing it."
"I love you, Nic. No matter what you feel or think or believe." He reached for 
her hand. "When you're ready to talk, I'm here." Abby was struggling.
It was Christmas Eve and the kids would be there in five minutes, but nothing 
felt right. She took one last look in the mirror and sucked in a steadying
156 breath. John's good days had outnumbered the bad this past week, and Abby 
thought she knew why. It had everything to do with seeing Jake Daniels. John's 
time in court that day to talk with the boy, laugh with him, offer him hope, had 
done more for John than any amount of therapy so far.
If only it had helped her. She just couldn't get past her anger, couldn't seem 
to download it so it didn't stay bottled up inside her, eating at the lining in 
her stomach.
Friends from church would call, but she'd tell them all the same thing: "We're 
doing great ... thanks for praying ... John's feeling better ... getting used to 
the wheelchair."
If only she had the courage to tell it like it was: "I'm furious . . 
disappointed ... heartbroken. And not sure I like the idea of spending the rest 
of my life watching John pine away in a wheelchair."
She was supposed to be strong, determined, positive. That had always been her 
role, even when she and John had been facing a divorce. Now, it felt as though 
every person who called-whether they were a longtime friend or a student of 
John's-was looking for her to encourage and uplift them.
Why did everyone in her world depend on her to have a good attitude about John's 
injury? John . . . the kids . . . their family and friends ... it was as though 
they'd all gotten together and decided, "Hey, if Abby's okay, everything's all 
right. We can breathe a sigh of relief and move on with life." 202
KAREN KINGSBURY will? Being positive, at peace, was the right thing to do. The 
expected ing. No one would know how to act if Abby wept every time some, asked 
her about John. Or if she threw her hands in the air and told the truth about 
how she was struggling inside. She studied her reflection once more. Whatever 
was brewing in the basement of her heart, she'd have to hide it a while longer. 
It was Christmas, after all. And the entire family would expect her to be full 
of good cheer and pleasant conversation. Of course, last year she'd silenced her 
feelings about the trouble in their marriage, and it had only made things worse 
... But this was different. She had to keep quiet now or none of them would 
survive. She held her breath as she made her way out of the bedroom. Holding her 
breath was one way to keep from crying. Let it go, Abby. . . don't think about 
your own feelings. Think of something else
157 ... She blinked hard. Kade. That was it: she could think about Kade. At 
least things were going better with him. He had been meeting with a counselor 
from church ever since he'd been home on Christmas break. The other night Kade 
told Abby and
John that he hadn't looked at any pornography, Internet or otherwise, since his 
discussion with John that day on the lake. Kade's counselor had asked Kade to 
study a couple who seemed to best illustrate true intimacy. Kade had chosen Abby 
and John. She reached the bottom of the stairs and could hear a chorus of voices 
in the next room. She turned the corner into the living room and was immediately 
greeted by Jo and Denny. "Now, Abby, don't you just look like a Christmas 
angel." Jo took three giant steps and circled her arms around Abby in a quick 
hug. "I'm always telling Denny you look like an angel. You know ... that blonde 
halo and all. But now I have to say I've never been more right about it." She 
elbowed Denny. "Isn't that right, Denny?" The man had his hands in his pockets 
and he gave a shy nod. "She's a pretty one; that's for sure." 203
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "Thanks, guys.
You look nice, too." Abby smiled. Compliments were wonderful. Too bad they 
didn't make her feel better. "Dinners ready in the kitchen. Let's go find 
everyone else."
The meal was cheery and upbeat. Cinnamon candles burned on either end of the 
table and Abby had cooked a turkey for the occasion. John sat at the head of the 
table-not because he'd always sat there in the past, but because it was the only 
spot that would accommodate his wheelchair. Abby tried not to think about it.
"You know, Dad-was Kade finished a bite of mashed potatoes"one of the guys at 
school told me his football coach spent the last five years of his career in a 
wheelchair. A muscle disorder or something." Abby flashed a quick look at John, 
but he was nodding thoughtfully, his eyes on Kade. "I know. It wouldn't be 
impossible."
"So, you should do it." Kade set his fork down and leaned his elbows on the 
table.
"If things were different, I might."
Nicole wiped her mouth. "You mean the kids?" "Yep. That and the parents." John 
shook his head. "My injury hasn't changed anything at school. Parents wanted my 
head, remember? I was about to be fired when the accident happened."
"Aw, Dad." Kade shook his head. "They
158 never woulda fired you. You're too good for that."
"Doesn't matter." John took a long drink of water. "If the administration 
doesn't support what you're doing, it's not worth the effort." "So you're 
quitting?" Kade's voice fell.
A sad smile lifted the corners of John's mouth. "I'll write the resignation 
letter sometime next month."
"Well, all I can say is whoever's at the top o' the heap at that school needs 
their head examined." Jo had finished her first plateful and was helping herself 
to more of everything. "Lettin' you get away'd be like hooking the biggest 
steelhead that side of the Mississippi and cuttin' it free before a single 
picture was snapped." She looked around the table. "Know what I mean?" 204 
paused, his fork midbite. "What's a steelhead?" yen Abby laughed, though Jo 
launched into an explanation oftheof lakes where steelhead might be found and 
what sort of bait best for catching them. When they were finished eating, they 
exchanged gifts around the in the living room. One gift each on Christmas Eve. 
That was the ily rule. And no sorting beneath the tree, either. First gift with 
ur name on it was the one you opened. Keeping with tradition, John was last. He 
chose a small package happened to be from Jo and Denny. Wads of wrapping paper 
otted the floor, and each of them sat beside a newly opened gift bile they 
watched John open his. At first, Abby couldn't make out what it was. Then as 
John opened the wrapper, she could see it clearly. It was a pair of gloves. The 
fingerless kind worn by serious bicyclists. Or men in wheelchairs. John slipped 
them on his hands and fastened the Velcro straps around his wrists. "These are 
great, guys. Thanks." But even as he was thanking Matt's parents, Abby saw tears 
gathering in Nicole's eyes. Jo seemed to sense that somehow her gift was causing 
sadness around the previously happy circle. "See-was she waved her hands in the 
air-by Denny and I always think of John as active. Going here and there and 
making the rest of us look pretty lazy, if you know what I mean." She laughed 
once, but it rang hollow across the room. Denny tried to rescue her. "What Jo's 
trying to say is that we figured John would be getting around more in the weeks 
to come. Maybe taking the chair around the track at school ... something like 
that." "Right, and the gloves . . . well, it's obvious
159 what they're for. Otherwise John's hands would get plum tore up. All 
callused and blistered and banged up." She looked at Abby. "And we can't have 
that. Not on a man as nice-looking as John Reynolds, right, Abby?"
It was happening again. Everyone was looking to her to save the moment, to speak 
something encouraging and upbeat that would give
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE the rest of them permission to cheer up. But this time she 
wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't Jo's fault. She and Denny had meant well with 
the gloves. One day very soon they'd probably come in handy. But right now-with 
Christmas knocking on the door-Abby didn't want a reminder of John's handicap. 
She wanted packages of sweaters and scarves and cologne. Favorite books and 
COULDS and candy. Not gloves that would make it more comfortable to get around 
in a wheelchair.
When she couldn't think of anything to say, Nicole spoke up. "Jo, they're 
perfect." She sniffed and wiped at a tear. "I think we're all a little sad that 
Daddy needs them. But still ... they were very thoughtful." "Definitely." John 
held up his hands, admiring them. "Well, I didn't mean nothin' by it." Jo's chin 
dropped a bit. "Just wanted to keep his hands nice."
Sean stood and moved next to John. "They're cool, Dad. Can I wear them when I 
ride my bike?"
The group laughed and the tension dissipated as quickly as it had built. Abby 
exhaled softly. She was grateful. Her bank account of ways to look at John's 
situation in a positive light was running frightfully low. And come spring, when 
John should be out on the football field running laps with his players, she was 
pretty sure she wouldn't have anything positive left to say at all.
Even if everyone she knew was counting on her. John was the only one awake. He 
was staring out the front window thinking of Christmases past, when he heard a 
sound. "Dad?" It was Sean. The boy's quiet footsteps approached from behind.
John turned and found his son's eyes in the dark. "I thought you were sleeping." 
He held an arm out, and Sean came to him. "I can't."
Only then did John realize his younger son was crying. "Hey, KAREN KINGSBURY cMa
ddy, what's wrong? You're not supposed to cry on Christmas Eve." "I ... I feel 
like
160 everything's a mess." John's heart broke for the boy. How little time they'd 
spent together since the accident . . . yet certainly the changes in their lives 
were affecting him, too. Obviously more than John had realized. "You just 
dreams, Dad? Have you thought about that?" mean because of my legs?" Sean hung 
his head, his lips pursed. Even in the shadowy moonlight John could see anger in 
the young boy's eyes. "It isn't fair, Dad!" John waited. Sean had always needed 
more time than their other children to share his feelings. Whatever torment the 
boy had gone through since the accident, John was grateful he was finally 
sharing his heart. "I'm listening." "I know I shouldn't be thinking about 
myself." He shrugged and wiped at his eyes. "You're the one hurt. But still .. 
"Still what?"' Sean lifted his eyes and met John's straight on. "What about my 
ratherea.l.....,,-" ra .eaeaher 1,bbc cnn mranr "Your dreams?"' --by Yeah." The 
boy crossed his arms, and it looked like he was barely
containing the struggle within. "You coached Kade until he was a senior, but 
what about me? I'll be at Marion High in two years, remember? How can I play 
football for someone else?" Realization washed over John's soul. Of course ... 
why hadn't he coming to grips with his altered life, John hadn't thought once 
about thought about this before? In his busyness with rehabilitation and how his 
injury might affect Sean. They'd always talked about how John would coach Sean, 
too, the same way he'd coached Kade. But John hadn't known until now how much 
the boy had counted on the arrangement. Sean was only in sixth grade. To John, 
his younger son's football days seemed light-years away. But to an 
eleven-year-old boy ... they were right around the corner. "Sean-was John 
tightened his hand around Sean's waist and hugged him closer-by I'm so sorry, 
buddy." 206 I 207
cMore A TIME TO EMBRACE Looking more like a child than he had in years, Sean 
hung his head and wept. They were tears John understood, tears of sorrow and 
frustration and guilt at what he obviously thought were selfish feelings. This 
time when he looked up, his eyes pleaded with John. "Didn't you hear Kade 
tonight? You can coach in a wheelchair, Dad. There's no rule against it or 
anything."
John gave the boy a sad smile. The situation was so much more complicated than 
that. But right now his son didn't need to hear a list of specifics
161 and details. He needed a reason to believe things were going to be okay, 
that life would somehow, someway be good again even if he had to let go of this 
boyhood dream of his. Give me something to say, God ... something that'll 
restore the peace in his heart ... Then it hit him. He cleared his throat. "I'll 
always be your coach, Sean. Whether I'm out there on the field or not."
Something changed in his son's expression. The anger and sadness wasn't gone 
exactly, but his gaze held the beginning of hope. "Really?"
"Of course. We'll work out together ... learn plays together." John felt his 
enthusiasm building. It was true. He might hang up his Marion High whistle, but 
he'd never stop coaching his boys. Especially Sean, who had so many years of 
football ahead. "I'll teach you everything I taught Kade."
Sean stood a little straighter. The worry lines across his forehead relaxed 
some. "Even in a wheelchair?" "Even in a wheelchair."
For a moment neither of them said anything, then Sean put his hand on John's 
shoulder and sucked in a quick breath. "Can I tell you something, Dad?"
John reached up and tousled the boy's sandy blond hair. "Anything." "I'm so glad 
you didn't die."
Tears stung at John's eyes. Again he was struck by how little he and Sean had 
talked lately. They needed this . . . this and many more times like it. He 
grinned. "Me, too, buddy." KAREN KINGSBURY More Sean leaned down and hugged him, 
and they held each other for a long while. Finally Sean stood up and yawned. 
"Well ... I guess I'll go back to bed." "Yeah ... don't wanna catch Santa Claus 
sneaking around the living room." The boy's giggle was like an infusion in 
John's soul. Thank You, God ... thank You for this time with my son.
"G'night, Dad. I love you." "Love you, too. See you in the morning." Sean left, 
and for a long while John sat there, pondering their conversation . Sean would 
be a joy to coach, as quick and easy to teach as Kade had been. And John would 
most certainly make good on his promise, working with the boy whenever they had 
a chance. Not just because Sean had always wanted to learn from him, but because 
he finally understood. Even though he was about to resign from coaching the 
Eagles, as long as he had Sean, he would still be a coach. And that, all by 
itself, was the greatest Christmas
162 present anyone could have given him. 208
11 209
KAREN KINGSBURY Us JOHN HAD BEEN
DREADING THE MOMENT ALL WINTER. By the first week of March, when grass began 
poking through the melting snow, he knew it was time. He hadn't heard from 
Herman Lutz or any of the other school administrators, but there was no point 
waiting another day. This was the beginning of the academic hiring period, and 
the school officials deserved to know. They weren't going to fire him-he'd 
guessed that much after a few conversations with other teachers. Not this year, 
anyway.
"They're worried about how it would look," one of the math teachers had told 
him. The man had overheard Herman Lutz talking with the principal in the office 
one day in January. "They said the public would come unglued if the school fired 
you now. Just a few months after you'd been paralyzed."
So the administration was willing to wait a year, but they still wanted him 
gone. Still didn't trust his character enough to believe he never would have 
allowed his players to drink or race cars if he'd known it was happening. And 
they still were willing to bow to the complaints of a few parents, rather than 
support him and the work he'd done at Marion High. Yes, it was time to resign.
John asked Abby to help him dress warmly that day, two pairs of sweats and an 
extra sweatshirt. Then he bundled into his warmest jacket and grabbed his laptop 
computer. "I've got a letter to write." He winked at Abby. She waited a moment 
before answering him. "Okay. I'll be here if disy need me." He smiled, but it 
didn't fool her. By the time he moved out the door and into the backyard, they 
both had tears in their eyes. John stopped and surveyed the path ahead of him. 
Before the first snow, they'd hired a contractor to pour a cement pathway to the 
pier. Now it was cleared and salted, surrounded by remnants of ice on either 
side. John filled his lungs with the sweet air of early spring. His therapy 
still hadn't yielded the results he prayed for, but he'd learned to be more 
independent. He could get to the pier by himself now. The doctor had prescribed 
a new chair for him, one with a firm brake in hand's reach. And his upper body 
was stronger than before, strong enough to propel himself up hills and 
ramp-ways. Carrying his laptop on his knees, he made his way almost to the end 
of the pier where he set the brake firmly in place. As he opened the computer, 
he caught sight of his legs. They'd wasted away, just like the therapist had 
said. Before
163 the accident they'd been twice the size of Kade's. Now they were smaller, 
thinner, and John knew it wouldn't be long until they were little more than skin 
and bones. He flipped the computer screen up, hit the start button, and stared 
at the keyboard. When the program was ready, he opened a new document and 
waited, his fingers poised over the keys. What was he supposed to say? How could 
he put into words that he was ready to give up his lifelong passion? He began to 
type. To whom it may concern: This is to inform you that I am hereby resigning 
as varsity football coach atMarion High. As you know, I've been the Eagles coach 
since the school opened in 1985. In that time, I...
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE His fingers stopped. In that time ...
So much had happened since he'd taken the job at Marion. And even before that. 
When had he fallen in love with the game anyway? His eyes drifted up from the 
screen and gazed out across the lake. Wasn't it when he was just a baby? There 
were pictures of him holding a football before he could crawl.
Images flooded his mind, memories he hadn't walked through in more than a 
decade.
His dad's life had revolved around the game, much like Abby's father's always 
had. The two men had played at University of Michigan, where they'd become best 
friends.
John's father had gone into banking after college, but not Abby's. He'd coached 
the game, too.
"It's in my blood." He always grinned when he said that. "I wouldn't know what 
to do with myself if I wasn't around football." That's how it had been for John. 
It didn't matter that his father rarely talked about his prowess on the field. 
When John was old enough to wear a uniform, he begged his parents to sign him 
up. From the moment he took his first down as a player, John knew he'd play the 
game as long as he lived.
An image came to him then ... him and his family visiting Abby and her parents 
at their lakeside home in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.
He'd met Abby before, but that year he was seventeen and a senior in high 
school. She was a freshman, just fourteen.
But she was a football coach's daughter, and it showed in everything she did. 
She could throw and catch a ball better than most boys her age, and the two of 
them spent hours barefoot on the beach tossing the
164 pigskin back and forth.
"You're not so bad for a girl," John had teased her. She had held her head a bit 
higher. Older boys hadn't intimidated her, not when her father coached sixty of 
them every year at the high school. John knew the team often hung out at Coach
KAREN KINGSBURY man's house, playing on the lake or eating barbecued chicken her 
family.
Why's response that afternoon was something that rang clear in his ory. She had 
stared at John, her eyes dancing. "And you're not so
i for a but 11 oy. hard, hard enough that eventually he took off after John had 
laughed tickling her and letting her believe she could outrun him. The truth
he could run like the wind back then. Like his father, John had
time a great quarterback and was being pursued by a dozen major 
iversities-including their fathers' alma mater, Michigan. One night that summer, 
the two families brought blankets down to the sandy shoreline and Abby's father 
built a bonfire. They sang songs about God. Not the usual silly campfire songs 
about chickens or trains comin round the mountain, but sweet songs about peace 
and joy and love and a God who cared deeply for all of them. When the songs 
ended and the adults were lost in their own conversation, John moved next to 
Abby and poked her with his elbow. "You got a boyfriend, little Miss Abby 
Chapman?"' He grinned at her, imagining her in five years or ten. When she'd 
grown up some. Again she kept her cool. "I don't need a boyfriend." She bumped 
his bare foot with her own. He nudged her back. "That so?"' A grin spread across 
his face. "Yes." Her head raised another notch and she leveled her gaze straight 
at him. "Boys can be very immature." She studied him for a moment. "Let me guess 
. . . you've got a different girlfriend every week, right? That's how it is with 
Dad's quarterbacks." John laughed out loud before he looked at her again and 
answered her question. "I guess I'm different." Abby's eyes grew wide in mock 
amazement. "What? John
Reynolds has no girlfriend?"' He reached for the football-one was seldom more 
than an arm's length away that entire summer-and tossed it lightly in the air a 
few times. "This is my girlfriend." 212 11 213
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby nodded, eyes twinkling. "She'll make a great prom
165 date, I'm sure."
He pushed her foot again and lowered his eyes with a wink. "Shhh You'll offend 
her." John blinked, and the memory disappeared. After that summer, John was 
certain he would marry Abby Chapman one day. It wasn't something he made a 
conscious decision about, like deciding what college to attend or what 
discipline to major in. Rather it was something that grew from his heart, a 
truth that simply was. But since that had been a long way off, John had poured 
his heart and soul into his first love-football. Especially the following year 
when he accepted a scholarship to the University of Michigan. John lifted his 
chin a bit and scanned the tops of the trees. How far could he throw the ball 
back then? Sixty yards? Seventy?
He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of the earth beneath his feet, the 
explosive push with every step, as he flew out of the pocket, looking for a 
receiver downfield.
His parents never missed a game, but one contest would always stand out in his 
mind. It was at the end of his junior season, a game against Michigan's chief 
rival, Ohio State. Michigan won by three touchdowns that afternoon, and after 
the game John and his father had walked through one of the neighborhoods and 
found an old bench at Almondinger Park. "It feels so good seeing you out there, 
son. Watching you lead that team the way I did all those years ago." John's 
father was rarely in a pensive mood, but that afternoon was different. John kept 
quiet and let his father talk. "Sometimes watching you is like watching myself, 
every step, every throw ... as though I'm down there doing it all over again, 
living it all over again." "There's nothing like it." "No." His father had 
teared up then, something John had seen only a handful of times in his life. 
"Definitely not. Out there on the 214 ,ko KAREN KINGSBURY aa it's you and your 
team and the ball, living out a drama, a battle, and powerful that only another 
player could understand."
. 11 you's, sir. tend time's a thief, son. You only get so many downs, so many 
es. So many games. Before you know it, you'll be grown up and
Ching your own son play. Then you 11 know what I mean." Of course in the end, 
his father had been right. John's years of
football flew yeaand late in his last game as a senior, he fl but
Aped the ligaments in is knee. do Though he'd
166 had pro scouts call hno one had a every. earlier that year, they disapp as 
real as his impend tell him to look at the clock. The truCan his this was injury
go graduation.
His football playing days were over. ame handy in the John kept the tape of his 
last go in the locker room, bantering back
mind. He remembered suiting up and forth with his teammates and swapping barbs 
as though they had forever. Four quarters later, John was huddled when the 
ftnabwh whistle blew. Even a now in three rolls of Ace but an dag ing, which he 
remembered how strange it felt. How right mind: untillll at whistle, he
and his teammates had just one thought in in order to for ba idothat do Bnd ey'd 
needed a victory This after Johns injury, Illinois ran a punt Michigan never 
regained the lead. Only then, in the sad silence that
followed, did the reality sink in. will season ... and John Reynolds's out and 
It was over. The game, this he stands, at the people filing career. John had 
glanced up at that wondered what they were thinking. aever their thoughts ,m Or 
what's wrong with the Wolverines. John was feeling that afternoon ... how it 
felt to play man knew how a game for sixteen straight seasons and then have it 
be over in as much fee to blow ean Only as it took a re re time hugged him an 
hour John's heart had ached that day, 215
More A TIME TO EMBRACE later after he'd turned in his uniform and showered and 
changed. A man who said nothing while he quietly grieved the fact that it was 
all finally and suddenly over. His father.
John swallowed and remembered how proud his dad had been when he called him that 
afternoon in 1985 and told him the news. "They hired me, Dad! I'm the head coach 
at Marion High." "Marion, huh?"
"Yep. It's a brand-new school, and I've got a truckload of ideas. I'm going to 
build a program here, Dad. Something new and different and better than anything 
in the state."
"New programs are hard, son. Have you talked to Abby's father?" "Not yet. And 
you're right." John had been barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "I know 
it'll be hard. But I can't let that bother me. We have good kids in this town, 
good teachers. A good administration. We'll start at the bottom, and
167 in a few years we'll be league contenders
. After that, who knows?" "Is Abby excited?" "She's happier than I am. She said 
she'll write press releases about the team for the paper and start a booster 
club. And when Kade's old enough, I'll take him with me to practice." His father 
had chuckled. "Kade's only two, son."
"But he's already walking. I'll let him come to practice with Abby even this 
year."
"Okay, but don't forget what I told you." "About what?"
"About how it feels to watch your son play. I hope I'm there to see it happen." 
His dad laughed again. "Your day's coming."
And so it had ... but not in time for his father to see it. Four years after 
John took the job at Marion, his father died of a heart attack. Only Abby knew 
the extent of John's loss-how he'd lost not just a father, but a mentor and 
coach. And most of all, a friend. Coaching football was the cure for John's 
grief. It turned out to be KAREN KINGSBURY can"
ost as great a thrill as playing the game. But there was one very people nderful 
difference. A player's days were numbered. A few years in school, a few years in 
college for the talented ones. Not so for a coach. Every year a group of 
teary-eyed seniors would play their last footgame for Marion High. Then, come 
fall, John and his staff
,.uld be back, welcoming in a new crop of freshmen and making flans for another 
season. John planned to coach until he retired. At least. That was true even 
through the hard years at Marion, the years when parents grumbled that he wasn't 
winning games fast enough and that maybe a different man should have been hired 
for the job. But those seasons led to John's first state title in 1989. By then 
everyone in Marion loved John. And in 1997, Kade joined the team. Only then did 
John get a true sense of what his father had been talking about that day at 
Almondinger Park. Watching Kade play football left John just one regret-that his 
father hadn't lived to see it. Kade was everything his father and grandfather 
had been, and then some. He was taller, quicker, and lightning fast on his 
release of the ball. John couldn't count the times he'd stopped in his tracks as 
he watched Kade line up, watched him bark out an audible and then speed to the 
back of the pocket, his arm ready to fire the ball at a receiver. His father had 
been right. Watching Kade, he could almost feel the pads sliding against his 
shoulders, smell the rich
168 grass beneath his feet. It was a heady experience, one that was second only 
to being out there and playing the game himself. The current problems at Marion 
hadn't started until that past summer, a few months after Kade's graduation. 
John shifted his gaze back to the water. What would his father have thought 
about the attitudes among his players and parents this year? Would it have jaded 
him? Made the 216 1 a 217
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE game seem less somehow? And then there was the thing John 
liked to think about least of all.
How would his father have handled John's resignation? The man would have been 
crushed to see John in a wheelchair, to know that John would never walk or run 
again. And certainly he would have been saddened to know that parents were 
trying to get John fired. But how would he have felt knowing John was going to 
step down as varsity coach? Walk away without looking back? John drew a deep 
breath and let his eyes fall to the computer keyboard once more. His father 
would have understood. Because he would have known John would have given up 
coaching only for one reason: if the game had changed. And it had.
Yes, his father would've supported him completely. In fact, somewhere in heaven, 
his dad would most certainly know how hard the letter of resignation was to 
write. And as John returned his fingers to the keyboard, as he found the 
strength to do what he never thought he'd do, he felt convinced of one thing.
His father must be aware of all that had happened and even now, in the most 
difficult moment of John's football career, his dad was sitting on the 
fifty-yard line of heaven, cheering for him the way he'd done as far back as 
John could remember.
JOHN WAS JUST FINISHING UP THE LETTER
WHEN ABBY joined him on the pier. Her eyes were bloodshot and pensive, like 
she'd been crying. She sauntered out toward him and pulled a bench up next to 
his wheelchair. "Finished?" "Yep." He typed his name. "Just now." She stared out 
at the lake. "It's the end of a chapter." "It is." He reached for her hand and 
laced his fingers between hers. marriage was back to what it had been when they 
were younger. ful . . . she was happier than ever. So glad that he'd lived ... 
so glad their she tried to make it seem. He asked her about her feelings now and 
then but always she said the same thing. She was fine ... she was grateFor a 
long time he'd suspected things weren't as well with Abby as not okay." for a 
while, nothing
169 came out. Then she narrowed her eyes.
"No, I'm there for months: sheer, undeniable anger. Her mouth opened, and 
anyway. She turned to him, and he saw something that hadn't been Her teeth 
stayed clenched, but a tired sigh eased through her lips "You okay?"' 218
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE All of it sounded good, just not exactly real. Not that 
John didn't believe her. Somewhere in her soul, Abby meant every Positive thing 
she said. But she had always been intense, and it had seemed strange to John 
that in this-their greatest physical challenge as a couple-she would be passive 
and accepting. He waited for her to continue.
"John, I've done everything I can to make this easy for you and the kids and . . 
. well, easy for everyone we know." She shrugged and leaned forward, digging her 
elbows into her thighs. "But I'm not sure I can do it anymore."
Panic flashed across the horizon of John's heart. She couldn't do it anymore? 
Where was this going? "Okay. You wanna explain?"' Abby clenched her fists and 
gritted her teeth as she continued. "I'm so mad, John! I'm so mad
I can't even stand it." She opened her hands and made circles with them. "It's 
like a tornado building up inside of me. Every day I'm madder than the day 
before." John chose his words carefully. "Who are you mad at?"' "I don't know!" 
Abby's tone was loud, seething. "I'm mad at you for staying at school that night 
when you should've been home." She stood and paced to the end of the pier and 
back, her arms crossed tight in front of her. "I'm mad at Jake for hitting you, 
and at the doctors for not being able to make you better. I'm mad that no one 
thinks I might be mad about this whole thing." She let her hands fall to her 
sides. "And I'm mad at God for letting it happen." John bit his lip. "You're mad 
at me?"' Something in his question caught her off guard, and though she tried to 
contain it, a single ripple of laughter spilled through her teeth. Immediately, 
she regained her composure. "John, don't." "Don't what?"'
"You're supposed to ask me about the last part ... about being mad at God."
"I don't know." John lifted one shoulder and leaned back in his chair. "I can 
understand about being mad at God. I mean, I get mad 220
KAREN KINGSBURY God sometimes." He angled
170 his head, his eyes narrow. "But me? ome on, Abby, what'd I do?"' She exhaled 
hard. "You should've come home with me, that's jeawhat." She gave him a light 
push on his shoulder. "Then none of this bewd've happened." "Oh ... well ... I 
guess that makes sense." "Never mind, you big jerk. This is supposed to be my 
time to get angry." Abby made a sound that was more laugh than cry, and she 
pushed him again. This time he caught her hand and pulled her onto his legs. She 
slid the laptop computer out from beneath her and set it on the pier. At the 
same time he released the brake on his wheelchair. "John!" She let loose a 
scream. "What're you doing? We'll both fall in the lake." He gripped the wheels 
and whirled the chair around just before they went over the edge of the pier. 
"What's this? No trust from my fair maiden?"' She grabbed a handful of his shirt 
and he grinned. "John, stop! You've lost your mind." Instead, he wheeled the two 
of them to the far end of the pier, turned once more and let gravity pull the 
chair back down the wooden slats toward the water. Abby screamed again and tried 
to break free, but John held her firmly in place, one hand around her waist, one 
hand on the wheel of his chair. "Take it back." They were halfway down the pier 
and moving fast. "What?"' Abby's voice was a shrill mix of terror and 
exhilaration.
"Tell me you're not mad at me."
"Fine!" The water was closing in on them. "I'm not mad at you." In a single, 
fluid motion, as gracefully as he'd once thrown a football, John grabbed both 
wheels and slowed the chair into a controlled spin. When they'd come full 
circle, he set the hand brake and wrapped both hands around Abby. Her eyes were 
wide, her body heaving to catch her breath. "That was the craziest thing you've 
ever done, John Reynolds." She 221
"Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE pushed his shoulder once more, this time harder than 
before. "What if you hadn't stopped in time?"'
"It was under control, Abby." His tone was soft, the teasing gone, "Just like 
your emotions these past few months."
She froze and he could see the tears form across the surface of her eyes. "It 
was that obvious?" "Of course."
A tired sigh worked its way up from somewhere deep within her. "I was afraid to 
tell you how I felt."
"Why? You've never been afraid before. Even when
171 we weren't getting along."
"Because-was she let her head fall against his chest-by I was afraid you'd never 
recover if you knew how upset I was."
"No." He waited, choosing his words with careful precision. "I'll never recover 
if you can't be yourself, Abby. We can't pretend everything's okay, don't you 
see? There'll be days when you can't take another minute of helping me get 
dressed ... days when you want to scream you're so angry. But there'll be days 
when I feel the same way. No matter how upbeat we pretend to be. The only way 
we'll survive this is if we're honest. Do you understand?"
"John ..." The tears spilled onto her cheeks. "I'm so mad this happened to you. 
It's not fair. It's just not fair."
"I know, honey." He cradled her close, stroking her back. "I know." She brought 
her face up against his and dried her tears on his cheeks. "I want to dance 
again. Don't you ever feel that way?" "All the time." He released the hand brake 
again and wheeled her once more to the far end of the pier.
"John ... what're you doing?" Her body grew taut in his arms. "Not another trip 
down! We'll fall in for sure this time."
"No, Abby-was they reached the top of the pier and he turned so the wheelchair 
was facing the water-by just lean back against me and relax." She hesitated and 
for a minute he thought she might jump off. "You're serious?" KAREN KINGSBURY Va 
es" He patted his chest. "Come on, lean back."
will, at're we doing?" It's sort of a tango dance step. Something I've been 
practicing." eased Abby back against him so they were both facing forward.
wy ... now you've gotta let everything go ... Your anger, your ,t ration ... all 
of it. The dance doesn't work otherwise." She giggled and the sound did wonders 
for his soul. "Okay. I'm
John released the hand brake and the chair began rolling down the ier toward the 
water. Abby His so laughter grew louder and she pressed her back against him. 
"It's kinda fun when you're not scared." "The tango always is." "Perky Paula 
would be proud." The chair picked up speed, and their laughter built until, a 
few yards from the water, John slowed the chair and turned it for one final 
spin. After that he wove the chair back and forth, his voice a gentle whisper in 
Abby's ear. "Do you hear it?" "Mmmmm." Her soft moan sounded deep
172 against his chest. "I think so." "The dance steps might change, Abby-was he 
kissed her earlobe"but the music's still playing." They stayed that way, swaying 
to the distant breeze and the rustling of still bare branches, until finally 
Abby shifted herself onto one of his knees and kissed him, long and slow. "You 
know what?" "What?" "I'm not angry anymore. At least for now." "See . . . the 
tango, Abby." He brushed his nose against hers. "Works every time." "No-was 
their lips met again and again-by your love works every time." John was about to 
kiss her once more when it happened. It was so brief, so fleeting, John knew it 
might be nothing. But then . . . he paused, going stone still. What else could 
cause it to happen? 222 11 223
Ma A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby drew back a few inches. "What is it, John?
You're scaring me." He gulped and concentrated on the place where he'd felt it. 
Then, as though God wanted him to know it wasn't a fluke or some figment of his 
imagination, he felt it again. Sort of a twinge or a burning sensation in his 
big toe. A place where he hadn't felt anything since the accident.
"Abby, you're not going to believe this." He looked straight at her, seeing past 
the surface to the heart of this woman he loved. "What? Tell me." Abby leaned 
back further, looking down the length of him. "Is something wrong?"
"No." He pointed to his feet, his heart thudding hard against the wall of his 
chest. "Just now, just a few seconds ago ... something happened. Something I 
can't explain."
"What was it?" She climbed off him and stood, studying his legs. Suddenly he 
realized that what he was about to say would sound ludicrous. Maybe it was only 
phantom pain, something he'd read about where months or even years after 
paralysis a person might have the memory of sensation.
He couldn't say something that would build false hope only to destroy it when 
they found it wasn't so. He'd tell her soon, but not yet. Abby was staring at 
him, waiting. Think, John ... come on ... make something up.
"Well. . ." He smiled big at her. "I think we invented a new dance step. 11 The 
wind left Abby's lungs in a rush. "John, I thought you were hurt ... like maybe 
you couldn't breathe or something." He chuckled, hiding the excitement welling 
in his soul. "Nope. Don't you know,
173 Abby? Dancing is good for the lungs." He patted his chest. "After a routine 
like the one we, just did, I'll be breathing good for days."
"You're such a teaser." Abby reached for his hand, and together they made their 
way up the pier and toward the house. "You shouldn't do that. I really thought 
something was wrong." 224
ey were halfway up the yard when it happened again. This time dbt about what he 
was fee ling. This was no phantom had no out 1, no memory o previous sensation. 
He felt a burning twinge in toe. And this time something else happened. 
Something he could rely keep to himself.
His toe moved! John had no idea what that meant or why it was happening. But ,e 
had that have every stran go est sense that something-or Someone-was wor on his 
spine. It didn't feel like the han It felt like the very fingers of God.
KAREN KINGSBURY 70 knowledge ds of a doctor or a therapist.
KAREN KINGSBURY Us CHUCK PARKER HAD
JUST WALKED IN THE DOOR WHEN the call came in.
He was an insurance broker, and this past winter had been busybusier than any in 
his life. Not only was business booming, but with Casey's driver's license 
suspended for a year, Chuck or his wife had to drive the boy everywhere he went.
The worst part about being so busy was that Chuck hadn't had time to stage the 
meeting. Ever since finding out about Coach's paralysis, Chuck had wanted a 
group discussion at school about the way they'd handled Coach Reynolds this past 
season. He'd made a handful of phone calls, but no meeting had materialized. The 
trouble was time. With so much on his plate, the idea had simply gotten away 
from him. But no worries. As long as he and the other parents had backed off 
from pressuring Herman Lutz, Coach Reynolds's job was safe. Maybe they didn't 
actually need a meeting. When Coach returned next fall, certainly he'd see that 
everyone had changed after what had happened. The players, the students. Even 
the parents.
The phone rang three times before Chuck grabbed it. "Hello?"' "Mr. Parker? This 
is Sue
Diver down at Marion High." Sue Diver
... Chuck wracked his brain. Oh, right. Sue. The secretary at school. Carried a 
whole-life policy he'd written up for her back in "98.
174 He glanced at his watch. He had three evening appointments starting in 
thirty minutes. "Hey, Sue ... what's up?"' "A letter came into the office 
today." Her voice was low, troubled. "Okay ..." "I don't know if I'm supposed to 
be telling you this." "I'm sure it's fine, Sue. Otherwise you wouldn't have felt 
the need to call." His words seemed to work. He could hear her take a quick 
breath. "It's a resignation letter from Coach Reynolds. He's resigning effective 
immediately. Says that the game has passed him "'' and that the parents no 
longer respect him." What? Chuck felt as though the floor beneath him had given 
way. Why hadn't he scheduled the meeting sooner? Now it was too late. If Herman 
Lutz read the letter, he'd have Coach Reynolds's job posted on the state listing 
in twenty-four hours. Probably believing it was what everyone wanted. Only that 
wasn't true at all. Not anymore. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of 
his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I'm gonna need some phone numbers, 
Sue. Can you get me the names and numbers of all the guys on the team?" "I think 
so." "Good." He looked at his stack of appointment files. "I'll make the calls 
tonight. What's the next available time on the school calendar?" The sound of 
rustling paper filled the background. "Today's Monday, let's see ..." More 
muffled paper sounds. "How about Thursday night?" Chuck looked at his calendar. 
He had four appointments scheduled for that night. "Perfect. Let's set it for 
seven o'clock. In the auditorium." "Okay. I'll run it by the administration, but 
it shouldn't be a problem. Parents are allowed to use the building for 
school-related meetings."
11", 227
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Sue sounded worried, like she was trying to convince 
herself. But it didn't matter. After months of procrastinating, Chuck had the 
meeting scheduled. Now all he needed were the phone numbers. "You have those 
numbers nearby?" "Uh ... can I fax you the list?"
"Absolutely." Chuck rattled off his fax number. "I'll be waiting. And, Sue, 
thanks for the tip. We'll have to get together one of these days and see if we 
can't upgrade your policy."
"Sure, Mr. Parker. Listen, I have to go." The moment Chuck hung up, his fax line 
began to ring. Chuck made three quick calls to cancel his
175 appointments. Then, when he had the phone list in hand, he took a deep 
breath and began to call. John refused to get Abby's hopes up.
But that night, before they went to bed, he casually mentioned that he needed to 
see the doctor. Soon, if possible.
"Why?" Abby had helped him into bed, and now she was getting ready.
"I'm just concerned about my legs." John forced himself to look relaxed. 
"They're too thin."
"Honey ..." Abby stopped and gave him a sad look. "The doctor said that would 
happen. It's normal."
John searched for a way to convince her. "Not this thin ... and not this fast." 
He pressed the blankets down against his legs. As he did, his right toe moved 
just a bit. "I'm wasting away, Abby. The doctor needs to hear about it."
"Really?" A puzzled look came over her face. "Well, if you think so. I'll call 
Dr. Furin in the morning."
The next day after breakfast John was drinking coffee in the kitchen when Abby 
found him. "He can see you at eleven today." "Good." He blew at the steam rising 
from his cup. "I'm sure there's something he can do." 228 KAREN KINGSBURY Us
"Mind if I drop you off?" Abby was a blur of motion, straightenthe kitchen and 
sorting through a stack of papers on the counter.
every need a few things at the store." "Sure. Fine ... I'll be in the waiting 
room whenever you get back."
couldnt believe his good fortune. The last thing he wanted to do talk about his 
toes moving in front of Abby. As hard as the past few
ths had been on her, there was no point getting her hopes up now. on
that Two hours later, John was in the examination room when Dr. .turin walked 
in. "John ... I understand you're worried about the
acting process in your legs." John gave a short laugh. "Actually, that's not it 
at all. I just ..." He id in his enthusiasm so he could think more clearly. "I 
couldn't re ne tell Abby the real reason I wanted to see you. I didn't want to 
get her hopes us His F. "Okay." Dr.
Furin set his clipboard down near the sink. "What's
the real reason?" "Doc-was John's smile worked its way up his cheeks-by I'm 
feeling
176 something in my right toe." John held up one hand. "Not constantly and not a 
lot. But several times yesterday and again today. Sort of like a burning 
feeling, a flash of pain, maybe. And a few times I've felt the toe move." Dr. 
Furin's mouth hung open. "You're serious?" "Completely.
You're the only one I've told." The doctor stood and paced to the window and 
back, taking slow, dlibte stes. "When we checked your It rays the first time, it 
every era people looked almost as though you were one of the lucky ones. Your 
break was in an area where people sometimes regain feeling. But usually that 
happens within a few days, after the swelling goes down." He paced a bit more, 
stroking his chin and staring vacantly at the floor. "Your feeling didn't come 
back, so we took more pictures, did more tests. And after that it looked like I 
was wrong. Like the break
was just a hair into the area where paralysis is permanent." John studied the 
doctor, trying to understand. "So, why am I feeling something in my right toe?" 
229
be A TIME TO EMBRACE "In all my years working with people who've injured their 
spinal cords, I've never treated a patient whose break fell so close to the 
dividing line. A fraction higher, you walk again. A fraction lower, you're in a 
chair for the rest of your life. But maybe ..."
John waited until he couldn't stand it another minute. "What?" "Recent research 
has shown that in a few rare cases, a break is so close to the separating line 
that surgery can be done to wire the spinal cord back together. Sometimes, after 
surgery, feeling can be restored. Even when it appeared that a person was 
paralyzed for life."
The news was more than John had hoped for. His hands shook as he stared at Dr. 
Furin. "And you think maybe I might be one of those people?"
"We'll have to do tests, but if I remember right, the first symptom is feeling 
in one or more toes. And I'm already certain your break happened in the area 
where research is being done."
John wanted to shout, to raise a fist in the air and holler at the good news. 
Instead he stayed quiet and turned his thoughts heavenward. God... thank Y. 
Thank You for this second chance. He couldn't wait to begin the tests. Whatever 
needed to be done, he wanted to do it. Because if a surgery might restore 
feeling to his legs, he was ready to go under the knife that afternoon. "Can you 
stay awhile?"
John laughed. "Operate on me now, Doc!
177 I'm ready."
"You need to know something." Dr. Furin frowned. "Even if you're a candidate for 
the surgery, there's no guarantee it'll work. The research is too new. So far it 
looks like only about half the people who undergo surgery ever regain feeling in 
their extremities."
"Look, Doctor, those odds are a whole lot better than what I had before I came 
in here. When can we start testing?" "I'd like to take more pictures and run a 
few more specific te//ests that must be done in the hospital. Normally it takes 
weeks to schedule these types of pictures, but I had a cancellation today." He 
hesitated. "I do think you need to tell your wife what's going on. The KAREN 
KINGSBURY will take most of the afternoon, and she'll need to drive you to the
,pital so you can take them." John nodded. How would she react? Would she be 
afraid of being ppointed? Anxious? Excited? Either way, the doctor was right. It 
time for her to know. Dr. Furin took a set of It rays, and thirty minutes later, 
John was the examination room when Abby walked in. "Sorry." She leaned er and 
kissed his cheek. "It took longer than I thought." "Abby ... sit down." He 
motioned to a folding chair against one wall. "We need to talk." Her face went 
slack, and he knew it was from fear. But she did as he asked, and when their 
knees were nearly touching, she swallowed hard. "What's wrong? Don't tell me 
there's something else." He couldn't keep her waiting another minute. "Abby, 
yesterday ... when I told you something strange was happening ..." She thought 
back and then remembered. "When you invented that new dance step?" "Right." He 
reached out and she took his hand in hers. "Well, that wasn't exactly what was 
going on." Her chin fell a little, but she said nothing. "The truth is, I was 
getting pains in my right toe." His voice grew soft. "I was feeling it, Abby. I 
really was. Then when we walked into the house, my toe moved." He glanced around 
the room, looking for a way to describe how it had felt. "I thought maybe I was 
imagining it ... like maybe it hadn't really happened. But then I felt it again 
before we went to sleep and again this morning." "That's why you wanted to come 
today?" John nodded. "I had to tell Dr. Furin. Because everyone had told me I'd 
never have feeling like that again. Phantom pain, maybe. But not real feeling. 
And there was no doubt this was real pain
178 ... real movement." "So-was Abby ran her tongue over her bottom lip-by 
what'd Dr. Furin say?" 230 If 231
Ua A TIME TO EMBRACE John did his best to explain the situation, how once in a 
rare while a certain type of broken neck could be operated on and feeling, 
possibly restored. "It's still a long shot, Abby. He wants to do more tests this 
afternoon. If I'm a candidate for surgery, he'll know after that." Abby's mouth 
hung open, her eyes wide as she took in the news. She leaned forward, grabbing 
his chair with both hands. "You're serious?" "Completely." John loved the hope 
in Abby's eyes. Please, Lord... get us through this. Give us a miracle. There 
was no audible answer, not even a still, silent whisper in his soul, but John 
was suddenly overwhelmed with an indescribable peace.
"Okay, then. Let's get you over to the hospital."
The tests took five hours and were as exhausting as they were long. Abby 
contacted Nicole midway through the day and asked her to pick up Sean when 
school was out.
"What's going on?"
"I'll tell you later." Abby hurried through the conversation, anxious to rejoin 
John. "I promise."
Dr. Furin arrived near the end of the day and began reading the results with a 
team of spinal cord specialists. Finally, at six o'clock that evening John's 
doctor met them in the hospital lobby.
John prided himself on being able to read a person's expression, but Dr. Furin 
could've made his living playing poker. It was impossible to tell the results 
from the look on his face. He motioned for them to follow him to a quieter 
corner where they wouldn't be distracted. Abby held tight to John's hand, so 
tight he could feel the pulse in her fingertips. "What'd you find out?"
Dr. Furin allowed just the hint of a smile. "John's a candidate for surgery. His 
injury is almost textbook perfect, the kind they've done research on."
For a moment, John let his head fall. He'd been granted a second chance! An 
opportunity, no matter how slim, to have his legs again. It was more than he 
could imagine, more than he could bear.
When he looked up, he saw that Abby had covered her mouth with KAREN KINGSBURY 
Us free hand. Small soblike sounds were coming from her throat,
179 but eyes were dry. She was probably in shock, like him. Who'd have thought 
it possible? After so many months of being paralyzed? John had never heard of 
such a thing. "When can we do the surgery?" "No time soon." Dr. Furin folded his 
hands and leaned forward. That want the nation's top experts to perform the 
operation. I'll assist, it since it's their research, they should do the 
surgery." "They'll come here?" John still couldn't believe he was having this 
nversation. "I thought with specialists you have to go wherever they're based." 
"They do most of their work in Arizona, but they're willing to travel for an 
extraordinary case. I'd say yours fits that description." "So when, Doctor?" 
Abby's palms were damp. "How soon?" "It's March now. I'd say four weeks. 
Sometime in mid-April.
It'd probably take that long to pull the team together." "Is there anything we 
can do between now and then?" John eased his arm around Abby's shoulders and 
hugged her close. The feeling of hope was so strong it was almost a physical 
assault. If the doctor hadn't been there, John would've pulled Abby onto his lap 
and held her until they were ready to talk about the possibilities. "Yes." 
Abby's teeth chattered. "Anything we can do so the surgery will be more 
successful. A special diet or exercises? Anything?" "Yes." Dr. Furin looked from 
Abby to John, and back again. "In a situation like this, there's one thing I'd 
recommend." He paused and his eyes shifted to John's once more. "Go home and 
pray. Have your kids and your friends and your family pray. Get the whole town 
praying. Pray for us ... pray for yourself... pray for a miracle. After that 
we'll put you under the knife and do our best. It's the only chance you have." 
Dr. Furin explained a bit more about the operation, and then he left. The moment 
he was gone, John turned to Abby and held out his arms. She climbed on his lap 
like a child who'd been lost for a week. Then, unconcerned with whoever else 
might be in the waiting room 232 It 233
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE or passing by in the hallways, John and Abby brought their 
heads together and prayed. Not just because it was doctor's orders, but because 
a miracle was standing on the front porch of their lives. And John intended to 
beg God night and day to open the door and let it in. Jake Daniels had a funny 
feeling about his mom and dad.
His hearing was in one week, the one where he and his
180 attorney would agree to plead guilty to a list of charges, things A. W. and 
the district attorney had agreed on. His dad had extended his leave of absence 
from work and was still staying at the hotel in town. But Jake wondered if 
sometimes he might be really sleeping on the sofa downstairs. There were nights 
when his dad was there, talking to his mother, long after Jake turned in. And in 
the mornings, his father would be in the kitchen making coffee. The whole 
situation felt strange. After all, his folks were divorced. But sometimes-when 
Jake wandered downstairs before breakfast and found his dad in the kitchen-it 
was sort of nice to pretend that his family had never really split up. Or that 
they'd somehow gotten back together.
It was possible, wasn't it? After all, they were out together tonight. Jake 
flopped down on his bed just as the phone rang. He caught a glimpse of the alarm 
clock on his dresser. Nearly nine o'clock. Only a few people could be calling 
this late. His attorney, or his mother. In fact, Jake was almost positive it was 
his mom. Lots of times when his mother was out late with his dad, she'd call and 
give him some kind of explanation. Dinner was served late ... or they'd gotten 
into a long conversation. Jake didn't care.
As long as they were together, there was a chance they'd work things out. He 
stretched across his bed and grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"
"Jake ... Casey Parker." KAREN
KINGSBURY You Parker? "Hey." Jake sat straight up and dropped his face in hands. 
He hadn't talked to Casey since the accident. "What's up?" shoulda called you 
sooner." There was a hitch in Casey's voice, ' knowledge he was trying not to 
cry. "Listen, Jake. Im sorry. About asing us to race and all. Really, man. I'm 
... I don't know what to say." Jake searched his mind, trying to imagine why 
Casey would call his "We need to move on, I guess. "You're out at that 
continuation school, right?"' "Right. It's okay. I've got straight Z." "You 
gonna get to come back to Marion in the fall?" It was the question his mother 
asked him at least once a week. The counselor had said it was okay, as long as 
he wasn't in a just uvenile deten tion center. By then Jake would be finished 
with his mandatory house arrest-a time when he wasn't allowed to go anywhere but 
to continuationschool and home again. If he wasn't locked up, he'd be involved 
in community service, telling teens at other schools why they needed to avoid 
street racing.
181 Everyone seemed to think he'd be better off at Marion in the fall, spending 
his senior year at his own school, being a living reminder to his peers that 
racing could have tragic consequences. But Jake wasn't sure. It was one thing to 
talk with Coach Reynolds in a courtroom. It would be another entirely to watch 
him wheeling his way around Marion High. "I'm not sure." "Yeah, well. I don't 
blame you. It's tough being at school." Casey hesitated. "Coach is still at 
home. Everyone says he'll be back in the fall." "Yep." Jake felt sick to his 
stomach. Where was the conversation going? "Hey, thanks for calling. I gotta get 
some rest before-was "Wait." Casey's voice was urgent. "That's not why I 
called." "Okay." "We're having a meeting for Coach Reynolds." "A meeting?" 
Jake's heart skipped a beat. "What kind of meeting?" 234 If 235
Will A TIME TO EMBRACE "I guess
Coach sent in a resignation letter, saying he was done with football because he 
didn't have-was Casey's voice cracked some and it was a while before he could 
speak again. "He didn't have the support he needed."
Jake's heart broke at the news. Not only did Coach have to deal with his injury, 
but he had to live with the fact that right before he'd gotten hurt, the parents 
had ganged up against him. "What's the meeting for?"
"A lot's changed since Coach got hurt, Jake. We've had a chance to ... I don't 
know, maybe look at ourselves a little closer. I think we realized-even the 
parents-that it wasn't Coach after all. It was us. You know what I mean?"
"I do. So it's a good meeting?" "Absolutely. Anyone who wants Coach to stay with 
the Eagles next year is supposed to come and talk. The guys'll start spreading 
the word tomorrow at school. I think a lot of kids are gonna go. A lot of 
parents, too."
Jake was certain he could get permission from the judge to attend. He had just 
one question. "Has anyone invited Coach Reynolds?" "Well
..." Casey paused. "We were kind of hoping you could do that."
After all that had happened, Jake felt nothing but honor at the chance to call 
Coach Reynolds and invite him to the meeting. "I'll do it as soon as I hang up."
182 "Okay. The meeting's Thursday night at seven." "See ya there."
Jake hung up and imagined Coach Reynolds surrounded by a huge room full of 
people who loved him. The thought gave Jake more peace than anything had in 
months. He smiled to himself, thinking of what he'd like to say if he could get 
up the courage. Then he did something he never expected to do again as long as 
he lived. He dialed Coach
Reynolds's phone number and waited. 236 THE MARION HIGH AUDITORIUM WAS FILLED
WITH police officers. Chuck Parker took the microphone and started to talk, but 
the officers threw things at him and shouted for John. Slowly, uncertainty in 
his eyes, John wheeled himself up onto the stage, but the entire auditorium 
booed him. The moment he reached for the microphone, a dozen officers rushed the 
stage and handcuffed him. One of them looked at the crowd and said, "Coach 
Reynolds knew his players were drinking ... he knew they were street racing. Now 
it's time for him to pay." They pushed John off the stage, and not once did he 
speak up for himself. "John ... tell them what really happened!" Abby stood and 
yelled at him from the back of the room. "Tell them you didn't know about those 
things." But John only turned around and waved at her. "It's my fault, Abby ... 
it's my fault ..." She tried to run after him, but an officer grabbed her arm 
and began telling her something about having a right to remain silent.
More A TIME TO EMBRACE
"Don't touch me! My husband did nothing wrong ., . nothing This whole meeting is 
a setup and-was
Something caught her attention. A buzzing or a hum of some kind. It grew louder 
and louder . .
Abby sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath. She glanced at John. He hadn't 
been taken away by police. He was asleep beside her. The sound came again and 
suddenly she realized what it was. John was snoring.
She fell back against the pillow. The week's emotional chain of events was 
almost more than Abby could bear.
First, the doctor's determination that they could operate on John's back, and 
the knowledge that maybe-just maybe-he might regain use of his legs. Then the 
call from Jake Daniels. The team, the parents . nearly the entire school planned 
to turn out for a meeting on John's behalf,
183 But what exactly did they want to say?
Abby felt her heart rate return to normal. Obviously she was worried about it. 
Whatever it was, the idea of meeting with the very people who had tried to ruin 
John did not sit well with her.
The day passed in a blur of housework and other errands until finally it was six 
o'clock and the meeting was in just one hour. John was shaving upstairs, and 
Abby stared at the telephone. There was time for a quick call to Nicole. The 
poor girl had wanted desperately to go to the meeting, but she'd already made 
plans to have Matt's parents over for dinner. Besides, she was seven months 
pregnant and more tired than usual.
Neither Nicole nor the other kids knew about John's impending surgery. Abby and 
John wanted to tell them on the weekend, when everyone was at the house. Then as 
soon as the details were out, they could place a speakerphone call to Kade and 
share the news together. Nicole answered on the first ring. "Hello?" "Hi, honey. 
It's Mom."
"Oh, hi. Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?" KAREN KINGSBURY us a 's not 
till seven." Abby poured a bit of lotion on the palm of her and worked it into 
her fingers. "How are you, dear? It worries at you're so tired. Usually the 
seventh and eighth month aren't that." I don't know, Mom." Nicole lowered her 
voice. "I don't want Matt rry, but this afternoon while I was making spaghetti 
sauce, I had every of those false contractions. Only this time they were pretty 
strong." "Is the baby moving around okay?" "Not so much this evening. But 
earlier it felt like she was doing ps. "She?"' There was teasing in Abby's 
voice. Matt and Nicole had ded not to find out whether they were having a boy or 
girl. They r@ ted to be surprised. "Are you trying to tell me something?"' "It's 
just a guess. I have a hunch it's a girl. Matt thinks it's a boy. So I guess one 
of u'1l be-" Nicole groaned.
"Nic, what is it?"' "Ugggh." Nicole grabbed a few quick breaths. "Just another 
false contraction. See what I mean? They're getting harder all the time." Abby 
worked to keep the concern from her voice. "Honey, you need to write down the 
time and keep track of them. If they get stronger or start coming more 
regularly, have Matt take you in. Please, sweetie. That's nothing to mess with." 
Nicole promised she'd keep track of the pains, and then she asked Abby to pass a 
message on to
184 John. "Tell Daddy Matt's been praying for him. That whatever's said at this 
meeting will be an encouragement." Matt's been praying? What about y-was "Don't 
start, Mom." A sigh sounded across the phone lines. "You know how I feel about 
it." Abby did know, and she still couldn't believe it was happening. Life was 
tragic enough when having her husband lose his ability to walk. But watching 
Nicole lose her ability to pray? They chatted a bit more and Abby was careful 
not to be critical of Nicole. She needed Abby's love, not her condemnation. The 
phone call ended, and Abby closed her eyes. 238 11 239
i, a A TIME TO EMBRACE "Don't touch me! My husband did nothing wrong ... 
nothing! This whole meeting is a setup and-was
Something caught her attention. A buzzing or a hum of some kind. It grew louder 
and louder ...
Abby sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath. She glanced at John. He hadn't 
been taken away by police. He was asleep beside her, The sound came again and 
suddenly she realized what it was. John was snoring.
She fell back against the pillow. The week's emotional chain of events was 
almost more than Abby could bear.
First, the doctor's determination that they could operate on John's back, and 
the knowledge that maybe-just maybe-he might regain use of his legs. Then the 
call from Jake Daniels. The team, the parents . nearly the entire school planned 
to turn out for a meeting on John's behalf,
But what exactly did they want to say? Abby felt her heart rate return to 
normal. Obviously she was worried about it. Whatever it was, the idea of meeting 
with the very people who had tried to ruin John did not sit well with her.
The day passed in a blur of housework and other errands until finally it was six 
o'clock and the meeting was in just one hour. John was shaving upstairs, and 
Abby stared at the telephone. There was time for a quick call to Nicole. The 
poor girl had wanted desperately to go to the meeting, but she'd already made 
plans to have Matt's parents over for dinner. Besides, she was seven months 
pregnant and more tired than usual.
Neither Nicole nor the other kids knew about John's impending surgery. Abby and 
John wanted to tell them on the weekend, when everyone was at the house. Then as 
soon as the details were out,
185 they could place a speakerphone call to
Kade and share the news together. Nicole answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
"Hi, honey. It's Mom."
"Oh, hi. Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?" KAREN KINGSBURY Us "It's not 
till seven." Abby poured a bit of lotion on the palm of her do and worked it 
into her fingers. "How are you, dear? It worries every that you're so tired. 
Usually the seventh and eighth month aren't every that." "I don't know, Mom." 
Nicole lowered her voice. "I don't want Matt to worry, but this afternoon while 
I was making spaghetti sauce, I had some of those false contractions. Only this 
time they were pretty strong." "Is the baby moving around okay?" "Not so much 
this evening. But earlier it felt like she was doing backflips." "She?" There 
was teasing in Abby's voice. Matt and Nicole had decided not to find out whether 
they were having a boy or girl. They wanted to be surprised. "Are you trying to 
tell me something?" "It's just a guess. I have a hunch it's a girl. Matt thinks 
it's a boy. So I guess one of u'll be-was Nicole groaned.
"Nic, what is it?" "Ugggh." Nicole grabbed a few quick breaths. "Just another 
false contraction. See what I mean? They're getting harder all the time." Abby 
worked to keep the concern from her voice. "Honey, you need to write down the 
time and keep track of them. If they get stronger or start coming more 
regularly, have Matt take you in. Please, sweetie. That's nothing to mess with." 
Nicole promised she'd keep track of the pains, and then she asked Abby to pass a 
message on to John. "Tell Daddy Matt's been praying for him. That whatever's 
said at this meeting will be an encouragement.,, "Matt's been praying? What 
about you, "Don't start, Mom." A sigh sounded across the phone lines. "You know 
how I feel about it." Abby did know, and she still couldn't believe it was 
happening. Life was tragic enough when having her husband lose his ability to 
walls. But watching Nicole lose her ability to pray? They chatted a bit more and 
Abby was careful not to be critical of Nicole. She needed Abby's love, not her 
condemnation. The phone call ended, and Abby closed her eyes. 238 14 239
II
Just 11dl
III. I'I Very 'u a A TIME TO
186 EMBRACE God... work on her heart.
Please ...
Have peace, daughter ... no one can snatch her out of My hand. . The words were 
like a balm to her soul, filling in the worn-out places of her assurance with a 
peace that was beyond description. No one can snatch them out ofMy hand. It was 
a Scripture from Abby's college days. She had memorized it after having a 
discussion with a youth pastor about salvation.
Nicole wasn't rejecting her faith. She was merely struggling. She thought about 
her daughter's contractions. Certainly God would meet her where she was, one way 
or another, and see her through this season of doubt. And someday very soon, 
Abby believed with all her heart that Nicole would pray again. Maybe even yet 
that night. The meeting was already underway when John and Abby snuck in through 
a back door in the auditorium. The lights were low, and John had been certain 
the action would come to a complete halt the minute they arrived.
Instead, Abby opened the door and slipped in first, while John wheeled in behind 
her without a sound. Abby found a chair against
the back wall and John positioned himself beside her. They stayed there in the 
shadows near the back while Herman Lutz took the podium.
"You're gathered here tonight for a parent-staged meeting. As you know, our 
district makes school buildings available for such discussion times." He held up 
a piece of paper and read its contents in a slow, unpracticed manner. "As 
athletic director at Marion High, I wanted to make sure you're all clear on the 
boundaries. Please keep your comments as positive as possible, and let's avoid 
any namecalling. In addition, you should know that the opinions expressed here 
tonight are not those of the administration or staff." The man seemed bored and 
condescending. The same way he 240 KAREN KINGSBURY 'It
around the coaches and students at Marion. John tried not to behis attitude 
bother him. Lutz shaded his eyes and gazed at the front row of seats. "Mr. uck 
Parker, you called this meeting, so please get the discussion
ed" So it was true. Chuck Parker had called the meeting. The very man
had argued with John before the season about whether his son Lo ould play 
quarterback, and-according to Jake, anyway-the one
had spearheaded the attack against his character. John
187 leaned rdck in his wheelchair. As he did, he felt Abby's hand alongside his. 
He held it, glad for her presence, and even more glad that they hadn't been 
spotted. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the light, he could see the 
auditorium more clearly. It was packed. Hundreds of people had turned out. What 
in the world could all those people have to say? Chuck Parker made his way to 
the microphone and, for a long while, said nothing at all. He cleared his throat 
and glanced at his shoes. When he looked up, his cheeks were deep red. "I called 
this meeting for one reason. To apologize publicly to Coach John Reynolds." Abby 
squeezed his hand, her voice barely audible. "It's about time." John strained to 
hear. He didn't want to miss a word. "Many of you remember how I acted last 
season. To satisfy my own agenda, I tried to convince you Coach Reynolds was not 
the man our Eagles needed on the football field." He glanced down once more. 
"But I've done a lot of thinking since then." Chuck looked up and paced a few 
steps in either direction. "What happened with our boys this past season was my 
fault." He pointed at the audience. "And the fault of any of you parents who 
tried to turn your kid against Coach Reynolds." He hesitated. "What hope did my 
boy have as an Eagle when all he heard from me were cuts against his coach? The 
more I attacked the man, the more Casey lost respect for him. Once players lose 
respect for the coach, it doesn't matter what the man might do or what kind of 
talent the team might have. 241
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE Everyone loses.
It's that simple." He paused. "But it took a tragedy for me to sort it out and 
see it for myself."
John wondered if he were dreaming. Never in his wildest imagination had he 
thought Chuck Parker would face the Marion faithful and admit he'd undermined 
John's coaching authority. He shot a quick look at Abby. There were tears on her 
cheeks, but she was quiet, soaking in the things being said.
"I tried to get Coach Reynolds fired. But
I was wrong." Parker shrugged and seemed at a loss for words. "Coach sent in his 
resignation letter this week. I guess if there's another reason I called this 
meeting, it's to convince Coach we want him back at Marion High. The program 
won't be the same without him."
Chuck opened the meeting up to whoever wanted to speak. Several parents went 
first, and John's
188 astonishment only grew. These were people he'd always assumed had supported 
him. Yet one at a time they apologized for siding with a handful of parents 
who'd had an agenda against him.
One parent said, "What we did to Coach Reynolds last year made us losers, and it 
made our sons losers. I'm ashamed of myself, and I'm glad for the chance to tell 
the rest of you how I feel."
John shifted in his chair. No wonder he'd felt such pressure. Even parents who 
smiled at his face had talked behind his back. He and Abby exchanged a look. It 
was easy to see she was thinking the same thing.
Next at the podium was a wave of parents who had publicly opposed John. They, 
too, expressed sorrow at what they'd done. "Not just because he's hurt now," one 
father said. "The reason we're here today isn't because we pity Coach Reynolds. 
It's because we're ashamed of ourselves and the way we treated him."
Thirty minutes into the meeting, the first of several players stood to speak. He 
was a lineman, a soft-spoken athlete named Buck, whose intensity came out only 
on the field. Until now. KAREN KINGSBURY Us "Coach Reynolds was not a regular 
coach, not the kind of man you every for granted." Buck looked uncomfortable at 
the small podium, ut he continued, passion ringing in his voice. "Coach had us 
to his ome for movies and dinners. One time he told us if we ever needed place 
to go so we wouldn't drink at a party, we could come to his house." Buck's voice 
lifted louder. "He loved us that much. See, that's the thing I want you parents 
to know. You took a stand against a man who cared about us more than any coach 
I've ever heard of. We were the luckiest athletes in the state of Illinois. 
Because Coach loved us." He hung his head for a moment. "All I'm saying is, now 
it's time to get the message back to Coach ... that we love him, too." A lump 
formed in John's throat and refused to budge. He blinked back tears and listened 
as, one after another, his players took the podium and echoed Buck's thoughts. 
So they did care, after all. It was worth more than John could have imagined. He 
brought Abby's hand to his lips and gave it a tender kiss. She smiled at him and 
mouthed, "They love you, John." Finally there was a lull in the action and a 
ripple of whispers fanned across the spectator section. All eyes were on 
someone, but John couldn't make out who it was.
189 Finally the boy came into view.
Jake Daniels. John hadn't seen him since that day in court, and he looked 
different now. Older, more grown up. He was no longer the carefree star athlete 
he'd been back in November. Abby leaned closer. "What's the commotion about?" 
"Jake hasn't been back at Marion High since the accident." "Oh." Her eyes grew 
wide. "I didn't know."
"This must be hard for him." Jake was neither shy nor awkward. Instead he 
handled the microphone like a professional, making eye contact with different 
sections of the audience. "I'm here to tell you the truth regarding some rumors 
that went around about Coach Reynolds last year." He paused, his eyes intense. 
242 I 243
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "First of all, yes, some of us guys on the team drank 
during summ camp last August. I was one of them. And a few guys raced." John 
exchanged a look with Abby. So, Jake had been one of the drinkers. John was 
fairly sure the boy hadn't raced, though. At least not back then. It wasn't 
until his father bought him the Integra that he'd been tempted to do that. And 
even then he'd done it just one tragic time. Still, he didn't claim innocence, 
nor did he point out which players had violated rules.
Jake slipped one hand in his pocket. "I look at our team last year, and I know 
what one of you said earlier was true. We were losers. Not just on the field, 
but off the field. Most of us were rule-breakers. Drinking, racing, getting into 
pornography."
Abby flashed John a look of alarm. She kept to a whisper. "In high school?"
"I guess."
"Was Kade involved last year, too?" "No." John was careful to keep his voice 
low. His conversation with Kade that day on the fishing boat was still fresh. 
"Not until he got to college."
"It's that rampant?"
John nodded. "And getting worse." He had a thought then ... Why not ask Kade to 
talk to the team about how pornography progresses and becomes addicting, about 
breaking free from it and getting help? It could have a real impThen he 
remembered. He wouldn't be coaching next year. The new coach might not be 
interested in having the boys stay clear of pornographic material. And it would 
be up to him
190 to plan speakers for the team. Jake was still talking. "If that wasn't bad 
enough, we walked around campus thinking we ruled the school, treating other 
people like dirt. Making Marion High a miserable place for anyone who didn't 
play ball."
Jake stopped and squared up to the edge of the stage, his eyes searching the 
audience. "We thought we were better than everyone. Even Coach Reynolds." 244
KAREN KINGSBURY paused. Even from the back of the room John could tell he was ,n 
to cry. Finally he cleared his throat and found voice enough "Coach wanted us to 
be upstanding, moral young men. Men
acter. Anyone who's played for him has heard him say that a do times. He led by 
example." every image of Charlene came to mind, and an arrow fgof his John's 
gut. He hadn't always been moral. But because because of God's strength and not 
his own, he'd walked away
that situation, and steered clear of others that would have led down the wrong 
path. Only by God's grace did Jake and the othsee in him the type of character 
they now wanted to imitate. "We had the best coach in the state. Like Buck said, 
a coach who ed us. And we let him get away." Jake sniffed and again seemed to be 
disng to get hold of his emotions. "I'm still believing that somehow lod will 
heal Coach Reynolds, but maybe not. What I did by racing ghat day might have 
ruined Coach's legs forever." A single sob caught in 'l'ake's throat, and he 
placed his fist over his mouth until he had control again. "But I think what our 
team did by going against him last season is worse, because we ruined his desire 
to coach." Jake shook his head, his voice strained. "I can only pray that do 
enough to will how good some lucky group of guys will be smart ethey've got it. 
Smart enough to listen to him, act like him, and play for him with all their 
hearts. The way I wish we would have." John blinked back a layer of tears and 
looked at Abby. "He's grown up." She had tears in her eyes. "Yes." John turned 
and watched Jake leave the stage. "He has." For several seconds there was a 
lull, and finally Chuck Parker took the podium. "I had hoped Coach Reynolds 
might be here tonight, but I his
injury, think it's understandable why hhe isn't. lastationseasont Wb hy would he 
come but because of the way we treated Abby nudged him. "Say something." "Not 
yet." John felt awkward shouting out
191 while Chuck was at the microphone.
"Wait till he's finished."
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Chuck shaded his eyes again and scanned the front of the 
aunt, rium. "So if no one else wants to say anything, I've brought a petition 
asking Coach Reynolds to reconsider and come back as coach for the Eagles. If 
each of you could sign it before you-"
"Wait!" A tall figure entered the auditorium from one of the side doors and 
strode toward the front of the room.
Chuck looked surprised and more than a little nervous. The student ambled onto 
the stage and approached the podium, and then John understood.
The boy was Nathan Pike.
John stared. It was Nathan, but he wasn't dressed in black and his arms and neck 
were free from spiked collars and leather bands. He looked like any other kid at 
Marion High, and there was something else. His expression was softer. So soft 
John almost didn't recognize him.
Nathan looked at Parker and extended his hand. "Sorry, I'm late. I have 
something to say. Would it be all right?"'
Relief flooded Chuck's face.
John was pretty sure most everyone at school had heard the rumors about Nathan. 
How could they not, after the football game where the boy was arrested? School 
officials later caught a boy from the opposing team for making the threat, but 
the incident hadn't helped Nathan's image, and John had heard that some still 
feared he might do something crazy.
But Chuck didn't hesitate. He handed over the microphone and stepped back, 
giving Nathan the floor. "First of all-" Nathan looked toward the back of the 
auditorium-by Coach Reynolds is here. He and his wife are in the back. I saw 
them when I came in."
A jumble of voices started talking at once as people craned their necks and 
pointed toward where John and Abby sat. "So much for anonymity." Abby sank lower 
in her seat. "Coach?" Nathan peered into the darkness. "Could you come down 
here?"
John's stomach fluttered and his hands felt damp. 246 KAREN KINGSBURY 10 be 
praying," Abby whispered. Aw back wall and up the
knowledge so., John wheeled himself along ld feel every eye on him as toward the 
front of the room. He can -More onto the
192 the front and mad every at-.7 could only stare. The last time
first the parents and play go him, he'd stood six-foot-four, bigger and so for 
the gam lof foo ball.
Gillustration of the physical power necessary do to a wheelchair, forty pounds 
lighter, his legs ow he was reduce like Otgely thin. Daniels several seconds, 
Jake aniels stood and began cl omt. Before but loud, single claPs go lblite 
applause Jathan could say another word, Casey et and clapped sfor John in a 
quite tally the entire audience rose to its every ,ay they'd never done before, 
i It was an applause that in sixty seconds made John forget an entire beseason 
of criticism and complaints. An applause that told him, yes, him players and 
their parents had done more wrong, but they knew Not sorry for himthey'd made a 
mistake and they were sorry. they hadn't supported though certainly they were 
that, too. sorry
him and given him a chance that past season. quiet again, When theyd taken their 
seats and do sothe room was mething about forgiveness Nathan spoke. "I think 
we've lea the tonight. Kids like me have to forgive kids like you." havelto 
forgive i you place where the players sat. "And kids 1 like me. Those are 
lessons Coach taught me, things I'll remember bus all." ever." He paused. "But 
mostly, Coach Reynolds has to John was too stunned to do anything but listen. 
John's "Right now-" Nathan moved closer and took hold o Coach wheelchair-by I'd 
like everyone to come up and gather
while we pray for two miracles." What was this? Nathan wanted people to pray? 
The entire scene was so strange it was unbelievable. Yet, it was actually 
happening. John stilled his mind enough to listen.
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "The first miracle we need here is obvious-that Coach will 
walk again. The second one is just as hard to imagine. That Coach'll change his 
mind about resigning from the Eagles. Because we need him. We all need him."
One at a time they came-players and parents and students, many who hadn't 
spoken, but wanted to show their support all the same. The cluster of people on 
the stage grew until everyone was circled around John. Everyone except Herman 
Lutz and a janitor in the back of the room.
193 John saw Abby work her way up the aisle to the middle of the stage. She 
placed her hands on John's shoulders, and as the voices around him began lifting 
prayers to heaven, John felt movement in his feet. This time from both his big 
toes.
Then and there, in the quietest corner of his heart, he could almost hear God 
whisper to him. Lean not on your own understanding ...
As John closed his eyes and joined his silent voice with those of the others, as 
he realized the good God was indeed working out of the disaster of his past 
year, he knew something for certain. He would never lean that way again.
AT ELEVEN O'clock THAT NIGHT, NICOLE REMEMBERED how to pray.
By then she'd been charting contractions for most of the night, and though they 
hadn't been regular, they were definitely getting stronger.
She'd played them down to Matt and his parents, not wanting to bother anyone if 
they were only false contractions. to nupdate heoon the same at nine o'clock 
when her mother
meeting at school. "How're the pains, Nic?" There was worry in her voice. 11
"Fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Now two hours had passed, and she was Matt 
and to moved to the downstairs sofa, both to keep from waking
chart the contractions. But somethinmother had asked earliermhat else bothered 
more than the pain. Something her
night on the phone. Was the baby still moving? At first, Nicole had said yes. 
There had still been movement, even if it was less than before. But since then 
she'd paid more careful attention. And now, an hour after Matt's parents had 
gone for the night,
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE she was starting to panic. She hadn't felt the baby move 
since after dinner. Not once.
And that's what had led Nicole-for the first time since her father's accident-to 
pray again.
At eleven o'clock, as a pain worse than any of the others seized her and knocked 
her off the sofa onto her knees, she prayed as instinctively as she breathed.
God, what's happening to me? Help me, Lord ... Its too early for the baby to 
come! Silence. When the pain ended, Nicole began to cry. There was no way to 
describe how she felt-both horrible and
194 wonderful at the same time. Horrible because of the contractions, but 
wonderfully at peace because for the first time in far too long she'd spoken to 
God.
What had she been thinking these past months? Why had she convinced herself that 
prayer was useless? Look how faithfully God had answered her prayers about her 
parents. And about a thousand other things every day of her life.
Then it hit her. The reason why she'd stopped praying.
She had only seen God as faithful when her prayers were answered the way she 
wanted them answered. What did the Bible say about making requests to God? That 
He heard them, and that He would be faithful to answer.
Not necessarily faithful to grant the request, but faithful to move in the 
situation as He saw best.
She remembered something else. All prayers were not answered immediately. 
Otherwise there would be no need to pray without ceasing, as Scripture said to 
do.
Nicole climbed back onto the sofa, her abdomen still tight from the last 
contraction. Why hadn't she remembered those things sooner? And how could she 
have gone all these months without talking to God? What a fool she'd been ...
Tears nipped at the corners of her eyes and sorrow overwhelmed 250 KAREN 
KINGSBURY Us
Had she really thought she could get through life without a relanship with her 
Creator? A relationship so vital she'd built her life
und it? The answer resounded in her soul. No, she could never, we walked away 
from God forever. She was merely mad at Him for owing her father to be 
paralyzed. But God never promised life would be problem-free. Nicole had always 
known that, had heard it all her life, but she'd never had to little face it 
before. Never had to wrestle with the dichotomy of an a loving, compassionate 
God who didn't stop terrible things from happening. And yet ... as she lay 
there, she thought back over all the years, all her life, all the ways God had 
touched and blessed and moved. He'd proven Himself over and over. And His Word 
proved even more. It told her the truth: God promised peace amid pain, and He 
promised life everlasting. Wasn't that more than anyone could hope for? 
Especially since this life was so fleeting, so unpredictable. Another cramp 
gripped her stomach and this time she cried out. "Matt! Help me." Even while the 
contraction
195 was gaining strength, she glanced at the piece of paper on the arm of the 
sofa. The last pain had been at 10:58. She checked her watch, pursing her lips 
and pushing air out the way they'd taught her at the childbirth classes. It was 
11:04. Only six minutes had passed, and just seven minutes between that one and 
the one before it. They were getting stronger and closer together. God ... what 
should I do? In response she had an overwhelming sense to call Matt again. And 
as the pain eased she did so, this time louder than before. "Matt ... I need 
you!" She heard his feet hit the floor above her. The stairs shook as he took 
them two at a time. He was breathless when he turned the corner and saw her, 
huddled in a corner on the sofa, tears on her cheeks. "Honey, what's wrong?"' 
"The baby's coming, Matt." She sobbed, still exhausted from the 251
ill
LqI lll ,lilt to Ili 11 li
cQuite A TIME TO EMBRACE last contraction. "I'm having pains every six or seven 
minutes, and they keep getting worse."
Matt's face went pale, and he took a step back toward the stairs. "I'll get 
dressed and we'll go to the hospital. Wait there, okay?"' Though it only took 
Matt a few minutes, and despite the fact that he sped all the way to the 
hospital, it was nearly midnight when they admitted her. By then they'd given 
her a shot of something to stop the contractions, but all it had done was make 
her jittery and weepy.
"I need to call my parents." She reached for Matt's hand. "What if the baby 
comes tonight?"'
"I'll call them as soon as they get you into a room."
A doctor wheeled her out of the emergency room and into an elevator, up two 
floors to a delivery area. "We're doing everything we can to stop your labor, 
Nicole, but your cervix is dilated to five centimeters and the contractions are 
still coming."
Five centimeters? Everything Nicole had read about having a baby agreed on one 
thing: rarely did labor stop once a woman was dilated that far. The doctor 
wheeled her into a room with bright lights and a shiny steel table. "We're still 
trying to stop the contractions, but you need to know the truth. You could 
deliver within the hour."
Nicole opened her mouth to speak, but another pain
196 came. She rode it out, while Matt asked the questions. "My wife's only seven 
months pregnant, Doctor. What's that mean for the baby?"'
The doctor frowned. "We'll have to wait and see. Babies born that prematurely 
can survive. The problem is the lungs on a child that little don't work on their 
own. Survival is a case-by-case situation." A case-by-case situation? The words 
pelted Nicole's heart like so many rocks. This was her child they were talking 
about! The baby whose reality she had refused to embrace until that Christmas 
Eve in her bedroom when she'd first felt the child moving inside her. Since then 
she'd formed a bond with this little one, a bond deeper and stronger than 
anything she could have imagined possible.
"Nicole-" the doctor was trying to get her attention, and she 252 KAREN 
KINGSBURY People
eked, meeting his gaze-by when's the last time you felt the baby owe.,) -- "It's 
... it's been a while. Usually she's more active.
"Hmmm." The doctor moved a stethoscope over Nicole's belly. It took a minute 
before he spoke again. "The baby's showing signs of istress. It looks like we 
may have to let the birth happen if we're going to have a chance at saving the 
child." The doctor hooked her up to another monitor. "I'll be back in a few 
minutes.
Stay as still as possible." He was gone and Nicole grabbed Matt's hand again. 
Her heart raced within her. Please God ... save my baby.
Please. "Matt ... call my parents. We need everyone praying." Matt moved toward 
the phone on the table near her bed. But then he stopped. "Did you say ... ?"' 
"Of course." She locked eyes with him, knowing he could see her fear. "I was 
just mad before. I started praying a few hours ago and I haven't stopped since." 
A sob caught in her throat. "Now, please ... call my parents." Matt nodded and 
grabbed the phone. As he dialed, she could see another emotion join fear and 
worry and helplessness, those already working his features.
Relief. Abby awoke to the shrill jangle of the phone ringing. She jolted upright 
and caught her breath. Who would be calling at this hour? She reached for the 
phone. "Hello?"' "Mom, it's
Matt." He paused long enough for her to recognize panic in his voice. A rush of 
adrenaline surged through her veins. Was something wrong with Nicole? She
197 sat up straighter as Matt hurried on. "We're at the hospital and ... the 
doctors can't stop Nicole's contractions. It looks like the baby's going to be 
born anytime. She wanted you to pray." 253
= A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby's heart slammed against the wall of her chest. Nicole 
was only seven months along. That meant the baby couldn't weigh more than a few 
pounds at best. Suddenly she remembered Haley Ann. Would Nicole have to lose a 
child, also? God no ... don't let it happen. "Mom, are you there?"' Matt's voice 
was so tense, Abby barely recognized it.
"We're on our way."
When she hung up, she woke John. Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the 
hospital parking lot and made their way up to labor and delivery. Matt met them 
in the hallway. He was dressed in a hospital gown and paper face mask.
"They've tried everything, but they can't stop her labor." His eyes were red. 
"They say the baby's in distress."
Abby took another two steps toward the room where Matt had just exited. "Where 
is she?"'
"The delivery room. The doctor said it could be any minute." John wheeled 
himself closer. "Can we see her?"'
"Not yet. I'm allowed back in, but the doctor wants you to wait across the hall. 
It's a private room. I'll come get you as soon as I know anything."
Matt hugged them both. "Nicole wanted you to pray for the baby, but pray for 
her, too. She's bleeding internally. Her blood pressure is way too low."
Abby had to force herself not to run down the hall and find Nicole. It was one 
thing that the baby was in danger ... but Nicole? Abby hadn't even considered 
that possibility. Certainly God wouldn't allow something to happen to Nicole. 
Not now, when so much had happened. They'd already lost one daughter. God 
wouldn't take a second one, would He?
Matt took off down the hall, and John reached for her fingers. "Come on." He led 
her to an armchair in the private waiting room and positioned himself as close 
to her as possible. With careful hands, he framed her face and forced her to 
look at him. "I know what you're 254 KAREN KINGSBURY "Ma nking, Abby. But you 
need to stop. We have to
198 believe God's here ith us, that He'll help Nicole and the baby get through 
this." Abby was too afraid to do anything but nod. "Pray, John. Please." He 
bowed his head close to hers and placed Nicole and the baby in God's hands. "We 
trust you, God. No matter how the situation looks, no matter what else has 
happened before, we trust Y. And we believe You'll work a miracle for our 
daughter and her baby." As John prayed, Abby realized how strongly she still 
believed. Despite everything that had happened, God's fingerprints were 
everywhere. John had survived the accident, hadn't he? The two of them loved 
each other again, didn't they? And she'd finally been able to be honest with her 
feelings. A wave of panic overshadowed her peace, but only for a moment. There 
was no time to fear. Not with Nicole and the baby fighting for their lives down 
the hallway. Even now, in the midst of a crisis, God was at work somehow. Abby 
had to believe that. Otherwise, she wasn't sure she'd make it through the night. 
Without her faith, another loss now would certainly send her over the edge. A 
full hour passed before Matt appeared in the waiting room. He looked ten years 
older, but Abby felt a surge of elation. He was smiling! "Nicole's okay. The 
bleeding was because of a tear in the placenta, something that can be fatal." He 
sucked in a slow breath, his eyes red and bleary. "I waited with her until her 
blood pressure came back up. She's tired, but the doctors say she's not in 
danger." Abby exhaled hard. "Thank God ... I knew
He'd save her." "What about the baby?" John put his hand on Abby's knee, his 
features taut. Matt's smile faded. "It's a girl. But it doesn't look good. She's 
barely two pounds and she's having trouble breathing. They put her in intensive 
care." So Nicole had been right. A baby girl . . . but now it looked as though 
none of them would even get to meet her. Poor little thing,
Rather A TIME TO EMBRACE alone in an incubator, struggling for every breath. 
Abby's arms ached for the chance to hold her. "Can we see either of them?"
"Nicole's back in her room. She might be asleep, but I know she'd want you to 
come in." Matt's gaze dropped to the floor for a moment. "I'm not sure about our 
little girl." His eyes met theirs again. "She's so small. I've never seen a
199 baby that little."
They followed Matt to Nicole's room, and as they went, John tapped Abby's leg. 
She turned to him and he pointed to his feet. "Let's tell her."
Of course! The news about john's surgery, the chance he might walk again! It was 
bound to encourage her. "You tell her."
They entered the room, and Nicole opened her eyes. "Hi." Her voice was groggy. 
"How's the baby?"
"They're working on her, honey." Matt was at her side instantly, soothing his 
hand over her forehead.
Nicole looked past him to Abby and John. "She's absolutely wonderful . The 
littlest bit of dark hair and perfect tiny features. Have you seen her?"
"Not yet." Abby bit her lip. "She's very small, Nic." "I know, but she's going 
to be okay. I feel it in my bones." John glanced at Abby, and she nodded. A 
distraction would be good. Especially the type of distraction John wanted to 
share. He moved his wheelchair to the foot of her bed and took hold of her toes. 
"There's something I need to tell you, Nic."
"Okay." She blinked, her lids heavy, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. 
"Sounds serious."
"It is." He looked at Abby once more. "This week I saw the doctor. He ran some 
tests and decided they could operate on my neck. The surgery's set to take place 
in about a month."
Nicole's eyes grew wide, and Matt turned an open mouth toward John. Nicole sat 
up straighter in bed, wincing at her soreness. "What for?" "Well ... I've been 
having feeling in my toes. Once in a while they even move a little." John's eyes 
twinkled. Abby doubted she'd ever 256 KAREN KINGSBURY been happier for him. "I 
guess in rare cases this kind of operation can repair the break." "But what 
about your legs?" Matt's tone was gentle, awed. John's chin quivered, and he 
struggled to find the words. Abby cleared her throat and finished for him. "He 
could regain full function." Nicole hooted out loud. "Dad! That's amazing!" 
"It's just a chance, but we're praying." John sat back in his chair and 
chuckled. "A while ago your mom thought God was up to something big in our 
lives. It looks like she was
200 right." "She is. I know it. Your legs and our little girl's survival." 
Nicole folded her arms. "You have to see her, Mom. She's so beautiful." Sorrow 
circled Abby's heart, but she forced herself to smile. "I'm sure she is, honey." 
"You guys are grandparents!" Nicole's voice was tired again, but her enthusiasm 
hadn't waned. "Can you believe it?" Abby hadn't given the idea a single thought. 
The only thing that mattered was the safety of Nicole and the baby. Now that the 
little girl was born, she hadn't yet acknowledged the truth: she and John were 
grandparents. It was unbelievable, and for the briefest moment she wondered how 
this scene would've played out if they'd gone ahead with their divorce plans. 
Most likely he wouldn't have been here for this event. It would have been too 
awkward, too difficult. How good God had been to them! She slipped her arm 
around John's shoulders and studied Nicole, the peace in her eyes. "Have you 
named her?" Nicole and Matt had gone through dozens of names, never really 
settling on one for either a boy or a girl. But now they gave each other a 
subtle grin, and Nicole looked at Abby.
"Yes. Haley Jo. After my sister ... and
Matt's mother." "Oh, Nic." Abby could do nothing to stop the tears. "That's 
beautiful." There was silence between them then, silence and the soft sound of 
tears. Abby guessed they all were thinking the same thing. The first Haley 
hadn't survived, and now this Haley might not either.
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Wi KAREN
KINGSBURY Us Before anyone could speak, the doctor came in. "Nicole, your baby's 
in serious distress. I know you're tired, but I'd like to get you in a 
wheelchair and take you down to the neonatal intensive care unit. I think it 
might help if she felt your touch, heard your voice." In a blur, Nicole was 
lifted from the bed into a chair, and she and Matt left the room with the doctor 
in tow. Only Abby and John were left in the room.
"What if she dies before we get a chance to see her?" Abby fell into John's lap 
and circled his neck with her arms. "Then she and Haley Ann will have a party in 
heaven." John kissed her forehead. "And one day when it's our turn, they'll be 
there to greet us." At three o'clock that morning, Matt found them again in the 
waiting room. This time his voice was thick with tears. "The doctor says you can 
go in." Matt folded his arms. "She might not make
201 it. Nicole wanted you to see her before ..."
He didn't finish his thought. John wheeled himself toward Matt, and Abby kept in 
step behind him. "We'll follow you." Matt showed them into a sterilization area, 
where they were both given hospital gowns and directed to wash their hands. 
Afterward, a nurse met them at the entrance to the special unit. "It'll have to 
be quick. We're working very hard to save her."
The nurse led the way, followed by John and Abby, and finally Matt. Abby 
couldn't speak as they stopped at an incubator. The nurse laid her hand on top 
of the clear cover. "This is Haley." Matt stayed a few feet back so Abby and
John could get a clear look. Nicole had been right. The child was gorgeous, a 
miniature of Nicole at that age and even ... yes ... a strong resemblance to-by 
Do you see it, John?"
His eyes glistened with tears as he nodded, never taking his gaze off the tiny 
infant. "She looks like Haley Ann."
"Really?" Matt poked his head between them, staring at the tiny child. "Nicole 
and I couldn't figure out who she looked like." Abby studied the baby again. Her 
tiny fingers were no thicker than spaghetti noodles, and her entire body 
would've fit comfortably in one of John's hands. There were hairlike wires 
attached to her at several places, and she was nearly covered with monitoring 
patches and bands. Her skin that did show was pale and translucent. Clearly not 
the normal skin of a newborn. Abby placed her palm against the warm glass. "Come 
on, little Haley, keep breathing. We're pulling for you, baby." John squeezed 
her knee, but said nothing. Her quiet words had spoken for both of them. 
Suddenly Abby realized that Matt's parents weren't there. She looked over her 
shoulder at him. "Have you called your mom and dad?" "Their phone's off the hook 
or something. Every time I call it's busy." "We'll go by and tell them on the 
way home." John wheeled himself back a bit. "You and Nicole need your time. But 
we'll be praying for Haley. And we're only a phone call away if anything 
changes." John was right, but Abby wanted nothing more than to sit beside the 
baby's incubator, willing her to breathe. The entire scene reminded her of that 
final morning with Haley Ann, when Abby had laid her down for a nap and found 
her two hours later, dead in her crib. If only she'd stayed with her, watched 
her breathe ... jolted
202 her into catching her breath the moment her body stopped drawing air. Then 
Haley Ann would've lived. And maybe the same was true for this Haley, also. This 
precious granddaughter. John was waiting for her, but Abby studied little Haley 
one more time. I'm giving her to You, God ... watch over her. Keep her 
breathing, please. An image filled Abby's mind, that of a smiling, youthful 
Jesus cradling Haley Jo in His arms and holding her close to His chest. 
Convinced of that, Abby was finally able to pull herself away. The message she'd 
gotten from the image was clear as air. There was nothing Abby could do for 
Haley that Jesus wasn't already doing. Her life, her future ... her next breath 
... were all in His hands. 258 1 259
V1 KAREN KINGSBURY I WHEN THE
DOORBELL RANG JUST BEFORE NOON, Abby was certain it would be Jo and Denny. 
Nicole had called that morning to say that Haley had survived the night. After 
Abby and John had alerted Matt's parents, they went straight to the hospital. 
Now, Abby figured, they were coming by to share their fears. Certainly to join 
Abby and John in their concern for the tiny baby. But when Abby opened the door, 
it wasn't Matt's parents. It was Jake Daniels's.
Tara and Tim stood on the front mat, looking at each other like awkward 
teenagers, and then at Abby. Tara spoke first. "Can we come in?" "Sure." Abby 
stepped back, surprised.
Since that day at court, neither of them had made contact with Abby or John. "I 
was expecting someone else."
The Danielses moved into the entryway, but Tim stopped. "If you're having 
company, we can come back."
Abby waved her hand. "No, nothing like that." She hesitated. "Nicole had her 
baby early this morning. I sort of expected her husband's parents to stop by."
"Is the baby okay?" Concern flashed in Tim's eyes. "No. Not really." Abby's 
voice was suddenly thick. "She's two months early. We're praying for her." John 
must have heard their voices. He came wheeling down the hallway and waved. "Come 
on in." They moved into the living room. John positioned himself close to Abby's 
chair. "Still on leave from work, Tim?" "Yes." He exchanged a look with Tara. 
"Jake's hearing is Thursday." "He might get
203 a year at a juvenile detention center."
Tara slid a little closer to Tim. "But that'd be the worst of it." Abby squirmed 
in her chair. Was this why they'd come? To talk about Jake's sentence? "We 
didn't come to talk about that." Tim folded his hands and planted his forearms 
on his knees. "Remember in court that day ... you told us the two of you almost 
divorced last year?"
John nodded. Tara raised an eyebrow.
"We've wanted to come ever since, but ... I couldn't." She crossed her legs and 
leaned closer to Tim. "Now the hearing's next week, and after that Tim needs to 
get back to work. That means our time together is almost over, and we still 
haven't talked about what we're feeling. Or whether we should get back 
together." Abby understood. "You're afraid." "Tim and I fought so much before he 
left. Then, when he was gone, all I could think about was what we'd thrown away. 
The love and laughter and memories. All of it was gone." "I felt that way, too, 
but Tara doesn't believe me." Tim tossed his hands in the air. "There's no 
question we want to be together, but we can't get beyond the past." Tim and 
Tara's words could have been their own a year ago, when Abby's father died. 
Without a doubt Abby and John knew that day that they still cared for each 
other, still wanted each other, but the mountain of hurt was simply too high to 
scale. "After Tim moved away, he began dating." The pain showed in 261 mmowd
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Tara's eyes.
"Here I was grieving all we'd lost, and he's out in New Jersey getting a new 
haircut, a new job, and a new girlfriend. Sometimes every few weeks. How could I 
compete with that?"
Tim turned his hands palm up. "Those girls meant nothing. I was running from the 
pain. Everything I did was my way of running. Even buying Jake the Integra."
There was silence between them for a moment, and Abby drew a quiet breath. "May 
I say something?"
"Please." Tim was quick to answer. "That's why we came." Abby looked at John, 
silently asking him if it was okay to share the details of their situation. The 
peace in his eyes told her that he would have it no other way. She smiled and 
then shifted her gaze to Tara. "When John and I were having trouble, he spent 
time with one of the teachers at school. She doesn't work there anymore, and her 
name isn't important. The thing is, it made me mad. Jealous, really. She was 
younger than I was, more
204 professional. I figured I couldn't compete with her, didn't want to compete 
with her. I still felt angry and jealous even after John began doing everything 
he could to make things right between us."
Tara nodded. "Exactly."
"The thing I had to learn was this: Sometimes love makes a mistake. Even a 
series of mistakes. When I married John, I promised to love him in good times 
and bad. No matter what happened." Abby kept her voice tender, but let her 
passion show, too. A passion she hoped Tara would hear. "John wanted to make 
things right between us, but I wasn't willing to forgive him. And you know what? 
At that point he wasn't the one breaking our wedding vows-I was. I refused to 
trust him, even after he'd told me time and again that he hadn't had an affair. 
I wanted to punish him for even finding another woman attractive, for 
befriending her and being tempted by her. And because of that I could justify 
treating him-was she searched for the right word-by cruelly. Because my feelings 
had been hurt and I thought he deserved it." A quiet settled over them again. 
John looked at Tim. "Of course, I 262
KAREN KINGSBURY idn't understand any of that. I just figured she wasn't capable 
of forving me." There were tears in Taras eyes and she dabbed at them 
discretely. "How ... how did you get past it?" "Memories." John sat back, his 
eyes only semifocused. "Our divorce plans ran right along the same time frame as 
Nicole's engagement . It was wedding dresses this, and churches that, and what 
about our vows, Daddy. . ." He shook his head. "What else could we do but 
remember how it had been for us twenty years earlier." "How we fell in love as 
kids and how magical it was when we first got married." Abby smiled. "Even then 
it wasn't easy." "The memories came at us separately." John gave a sad chuckle.
"Neither of us knew how to approach the other about them, and because of that, 
we were ready to go ahead with our plans." "What stopped you?" Another tear 
spilled onto Taras cheek. "God." John and Abby said the answer at the same time 
and then looked at each other and grinned. John shot a pointed look at Tim. "God 
might as well have sent us a telegram." John deepened his voice. "@John and Abby 
Reynolds ... do NOT get divorced. I made you for each other ... forgive and 
forget ... and move on in the joyful life I have for you."" Abby met Taras eyes. 
"Do you ever feel that way, Tara?
205 Like God wants you to let go of the hurt and anger and simply love each 
other?" "All the time." "Then why haven't you done it?" "Because. I'm afraid 
it'll happen again." She looked at Tim. "You're the only man I've ever loved, 
but when you left me, I hated you. And ... and I swore you'd never break my 
heart like you did before. Even if you begged me to come back." "The problem-was 
John's voice was gentle once more-by is one that's gotten mankind into trouble 
since the beginning."
"Which problem?" Tim wrung his hands. "Pride." John smiled. "It's why Adam and
Eve took the apple263
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE because they thought they were smarter than God. They 
wanted to be like God. And it's why good couples-loving couples like the two of 
you or Abby and me-start going in different directions and wind up believing 
divorce is the only solution." He took Abby's hand. "When really, the only 
solution is to grab tight to each other, forgive, and go on."
For a while none of them said anything. Then John made one final point. 
"Remember, the devil has always been behind the sin of pride. He wants us to 
think we can't forgive, can't live humbly with each other. But the devil has an 
agenda. He wants us to be miserable."
Tim stared at John. "And you think that's all divorce is? Two people listening 
to the devil's lies?"
"Most of the time, yes. When we say those wedding vows, the last thing on our 
mind is divorce. Isn't that right?" Tara and Tim nodded.
"For me, I was up there knowing Abby was the only woman I'd ever loved, the only 
one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." "That's exactly how I felt." 
Tim set his hand on Taro's knee, and she let it stay there.
"So only a lie could change that, right? Otherwise the love I shared with Abby 
should've gotten better with each year." There was regret in John's voice. The 
regret Abby knew they both carried. A regret that realized the value of all 
those years they lost back when they were living separate lives under one roof.
"Instead-was Abby finished John's thought-by we began thinking badly of each 
other. Pretty soon we were listening to the lie, believing we deserved something 
better than a life together." "When we really needed to stop running, forgive 
each other, and remember all
206 the reasons we got married in the first place." Tara sniffed, her eyes dry 
now.
"It's all about forgiveness."
"Yes." Abby's heart went out to the woman. "It is." She felt a pang of regret. 
How awful it had been living on the other side of forgive1
KAREN KINGSBURY can" tress. Holding on to bitterness and working to hate the man 
she'd pledged her life to. John leaned back, more relaxed now. "The Bible tells 
a story about a man who was forgiven a great debt by the king. The moment he was 
free, he ran through the streets looking for his fellow servant. When he found 
him, he grabbed the man by the cloak. @ally owe me, buddy," the guy said. @Pay 
up or I'll throw you into debtor's prison!" "When the king found out what 
happened, he called for the man. @The debt I forgave you was far greater than 
the debt your fellow servant owed. Now, since you couldn't find it in your heart 
to forgive the smaller amount, neither will I forgive you the large amount." And 
with that he threw the man into prison." Abby loved the way John could come up 
with an illustration from Scripture like that. He had always been a storyteller. 
It was what made him a good teacher, a strong communicator. But now that he was 
back at church with Abby every week, he constantly came up with stories like the 
one he'd just told. Abby searched Tim's andTaras faces and saw that they 
understood. "God's forgiven us-was Tara sniffed-by much more than we could ever 
need to forgive someone else." "Exactly." John's tone rang with compassion. Tara 
moved to the edge of her seat. "Pray for me, will you? That I'll find a way to 
forgive." Without hesitating, John did just that. When they were done, he looked 
at Abby. "Honey, take off my shoes, will you?" She wasn't sure what he was up 
to, but she liked his grin. With a light heart, she stooped down in front of him 
and slipped his shoes off. Then she returned to her chair and waited. Tim and 
Tara looked at his feet, their faces a twist of curiosity. "Watch." John pointed 
to his toes. "There's something I want you to pass on to that son of yours." 
Whatever he was about to do, even Abby had no idea. It was one 264 If 265
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE thing that John's toes had occasionally moved in some 
involuntary manner. But this ... what was he up to?
Then, with all of their eyes glued to his two big toes, Abby saw it. The toes 
moved! Both of
207 them. Just a little wiggle, but there was no denying the fact. Abby let out 
a cry and threw her arms around John's neck. "It's happening, John.
I can't believe it."
Across the room, Tim and Tara looked stunned, like they'd just seen John 
levitate. Tim was the first to recover. "What ... how did . John, does your 
doctor know about that?"
"Yes." John pulled Abby over onto his lap. "It's a form of spinal shock. Really 
rare. They're operating on me next month. There's a chance I'll get full use of 
my legs back."
"Oh my goodness." Taro's hands flew to her mouth. "Jake told me he asked God for 
a miracle. That you'd ... you'd walk again someday."
Tim looked at her. "He didn't tell me."
"It's true." Her eyes were still wide, still focused on John's two big toes. "He 
thought God had told him that's exactly what would happen. Coach Reynolds would 
get better. But as the months went by, nothing happened. Jake ... he stopped 
talking about it."
"Well, tell him to keep praying." John grinned, his arm tight around Abby's 
waist. "Miracles happen to those who believe."
Long after Tim and Tara had gone, after John had gone into their new first-floor 
bedroom for a nap, Abby sat at the dining room table and stared out at the lake. 
John was right. Miracles did happen to those who believed. After all, Nicole had 
prayed for Abby and John. And Jake had prayed about John's damaged legs. And now 
the boy had a sense everything was going to work out for John.
She sat there a long time, praying for baby Haley, talking to God and marveling 
at His plan for their lives. The more she thought about the discussion with Tim 
and Tara, the more convinced she became that whatever was happening with John's 
legs, it was only part of the miracle Jake was about to receive. 266 KAREN 
KINGSBURY
The other part, Abby was almost certain, would happen any day now, when a 
certain couple just might walk through the door and announce that by God's grace 
and forgiveness, Jake's father was never moving back to New Jersey.
By Sunday afternoon, the baby had survived three days, which was more than the 
doctors had thought possible. She still struggled for every breath, but Nicole 
had recovered quickly and spent nearly every waking moment
208 anchored beside the baby's incubator. She was allowed to reach inside and 
run her finger along Haley's small leg or arm. The opening was just large enough 
so Nicole could see her baby respond to not only her touch, but her voice. There 
was a tap on her shoulder, and Nicole turned around. It was Jo, her eyes red and 
swollen. "Hi."
"Jo, hi ... sit down." Jo nodded and slid a chair over next to Nicole's. "How is 
she?" "Holding on." Nicole studied the woman. Jo defined intensity. Whatever her 
mood, she played it to the furthest degree. But here, now, she was quiet, 
pensive. Defeated, even. "You okay?" "Sure." Jo's eyes grew watery. "Where's 
Matt?" "At home getting some sleep. He's barely closed his eyes since the baby 
was born." For a while they sat that way, watching little Haley, willing her 
small chest to continue it's up-and-down struggle. After five minutes had 
passed, Jo drew a sharp breath. "Nicole, I have something to tell you." She 
turned her head enough to glance at Jo. "I'm listening." "Oh, brother." Jo 
rolled her eyes and dabbed at her nose. "Never in a million years did I think 
I'd ever tell anyone about this. Least of all you or Matt." Nicole studied the 
woman. Whatever it was, the burden of it weighed on her like a diesel truck. 
"You can tell me, Jo." She cast Nicole a wary eye. "Don't hate me, okay?"
cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE "Okay."
"See . . ." She huffed hard, searching for the words. "It happened a long time 
back, back when me and Denny were first married." Jo wiped her hands on her pant 
legs and stared at baby Haley. "We were young and stupid, and just a few weeks 
after the weddin' we found out I was pregnant."
Pregnant? Nicole tried not to act surprised. Jo was right. Neither she nor Matt 
had ever heard this story. She waited for Jo to continue. "We were scared, I 
mean really scared." Jo shook her head. "Like a coupla fish at the end of a 
line. No matter which way we turned, didn't seem to be no way out. You know?"
"I do." Nicole hoped her face reflected the empathy she was feeling. It was 
exactly how she'd felt when she found out she was pregnant. The way she probably 
still would feel if God hadn't changed her attitude. "Back then . . . well,
209 me and Denny didn't have God. No one around us did, either. So ..." Her 
voice cracked, and she hung her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know if I can finish."
A dawning of understanding shone across the landscape of Nicole's heart. Had the 
woman done something to end her pregnancy? Nicole reached out and took Jo's 
weathered hand in her own. "Nothing you could tell me would make me love you 
less, Jo. You don't have to share this ... but I want you to know that."
Jo struggled to regain control. When she could speak again, she cast a quick 
look at Nicole. "I got an abortion, Nicole." She nodded, giving a single loud 
sniff. "Denny drove me to the clinic and waited in the lobby. And back in one of 
them dingy rooms, this handsome man came to me and told me it was all going to 
be okay. All I had to do was lay real still and tell him if I felt any pain. The 
pregnancy would be gone in no time."
Tears spilled onto Nicole's cheeks, and her heart broke for Jo. She wasn't sure 
what she should say, so she kept quiet.
"Isn't that something? The pregnancy would be gone ... as if there wasn't any 
baby involved." Jo wiped her eyes. "But it was more than a KAREN KINGSBURY 
pregnancy. I was five months along by the time I went in and one of the nurses 
told me." The words caught in Jo's throat for a moment. "It was a girl, Nicole. 
A little girl like your Haley. Only instead of helping her live, I helped her 
die." Jo dropped her head in her hands and stifled a sob. "Oh, Jo ... Nicole 
rubbed small gentle circles on her back and searched for something to say. But 
she could think of nothing. Finally, Jo found her voice again. "A year later I 
got pregnant with Matt. We were going to have another abortion, but something 
stopped me. I can't remember what it was, but somehow I knew it wasn't right. It 
didn't matter if we were young and poor. It wasn't the baby's fault, and I 
wasn't going to go back to that awful place again." Nicole's heart skipped a 
beat. If Jo had aborted Matt . . . She couldn't think about it. There was enough 
pain, knowing about Jo's first abortion. "Matt doesn't know?"' "How could I tell 
him? How do you look your son in the face and let him know you killed his 
sister?"' "Come on, Jo ... don't." Nicole put her arm around Jo's neck and 
brought her own younger face against Jo's older one. "You didn't know what you 
were doing."
210 "But I know now." Jo's tears came harder, and Nicole saw a few nurses 
glancing over at them. Jo seemed to notice, too, and she lowered her voice. 
"Ever since Matt was born, I've regretted what I did. I'd a done anything to get 
that little sweetheart back, to have it to do over again." Nicole released the 
hold she had on Jo and settled back in her chair. "God forgives you, Jo. You 
know that, right?"' Jo nodded and sniffed again. "After I gave my life to Jesus 
last year, I had a chat with Denny. I told him what we'd done was wrong and he 
agreed. We went to church that night all by ourselves and had a little service 
for the baby. We got down on our knees and told God how sorry we were." She 
lifted her chin a bit. "I never seen a grown man cry like that, Nicole. And I 
knew then that I wasn't the only one who missed that baby girl." 268
II 269
More A TIME TO EMBRACE Nicole was struck by the image Jo painted. Both parents 
taking responsibility for what they'd done and asking God's forgiveness. "What a 
wonderful thing, remembering her together that way." "Well, it wasn't wonderful. 
It was painful. Hurt more than anything in my life, if you wanna know the truth. 
After we told God we was sorry, we asked Him to take care of our baby up there 
in heaven. You know, give her little hugs and kisses and pick wildflowers with 
her on a summer day. Teach her how to fish and laugh and love. Watch over her 
until one day we could be up there to do it ourselves." Jo was quiet again, 
studying baby Haley. "We sort of pictured our little girl like an orphan. A 
heavenly orphan." Jo gave Nicole a sideways look. "And that night we promised 
God if He'd take care of our little orphan girl in heaven, we'd take care of His 
orphans down here on earth."
Suddenly it was all coming together. "Your trip to Mexico?"' "Yes." There was a 
quivering in Jo's lip. "That's why we're going." "Wow ..." Nicole inhaled 
sharply. "That's beautiful, Jo." "Yeah, well, the rest of what I have to say 
isn't so pretty." Nicole's heart rate quickened, but she stayed silent.
"Ever since I heard about little Haley, me and Denny have prayed till I thought 
our teeth would fall out." Jo placed her hand alongside the
211 incubator. "But every time I pray, God gives me a picture that scares me."
Nicole wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she couldn't help herself. "What's 
the picture?"'
"It's a picture of three little girls, running through the fields of heaven, arm 
in arm." Jo paused and Nicole wanted to cover her ears. "One of them is your 
sister, Haley Ann; the other is our little girl; and the third one ... the third 
one is your little Haley Jo."
It took a moment before Nicole could breathe again. When she could, she forced a 
quiet chuckle. "Now, Jo ... is that what's bothering you?"'
"Of course." She cast a surprised look at Nicole. "I want little KAREN KINGSBURY
Us Haley to live more than anything in the world. More than I've wanted 
something for a very long time. But if God knows my heart, why do I keep getting 
that picture?"' Nicole sounded stronger than she felt. "Maybe because I got 
pregnant early, too. Maybe because you know that if Haley ... if she doesn't 
make it, she'll be happy in heaven with her two aunts." Nicole tossed her hands 
a few inches in the air. "I don't know, but it doesn't mean God's going to take 
Haley home. You can't think that, Jo." Something in Nicole's words or maybe the 
tone of her voice, caused Jo to relax. The fear and torment left her face, and 
in its place there was only a distant sorrow. "You're right. God's going to save 
little Haley. I have to believe that." After a while Jo left, and Nicole stayed 
there by herself for nearly an hour, watching Haley, silently urging her to keep 
breathing, keep living. And praying that when Haley was old enough to run 
through fields of flowers, they would be the ones in their very own backyard. 
And not the ones in heaven. 270 I 271
KAREN KINGSBURY Rather IT WAS THE DAY
OF HIS HEARING, AND JAKE FELT HE'D aged ten years in the past four months.
Not a bad kind of aging, but a good kind. The kind that made him feel more sure 
about his faith and his future and his plans to help other teenagers avoid the 
mistakes he'd made.
If he didn't get sent to a juvenile detention center, Jake planned to return to 
Marion High in the fall. Everyone he talked to agreed it was the best choice, 
the way he could most impact his peers about the dangers of street racing. 
Besides, that way he could be around Coach Reynolds
212 again. And after four months away, Jake had no intention of finishing his 
high-school education any place except the campus where Coach could teach him. 
If not on the football field, then certainly in the classroom. If the court let 
him, that was.
He'd decided something else, too. He wanted another shot at football. Not so he 
could show up the underclassmen or put himself on a pedestal among his peers, 
but so he could play the game the way Coach had taught him to play. With heart 
and class and honor. Of course, A. Will had been straight with him. He might not 
get the chance. The judge could easily sentence him to a year in juvenile hall, 
and if that happened, he'd spend his senior year in confinement. Jake had prayed 
about the outcome of today's hearing, and if that's where God wanted him, that's 
where he'd go. There was no question, he deserved whatever punishment he was 
given. The courtroom was filling up, and Jake glanced at his parents. They were 
talking near the back door, looking friendlier than they'd looked at any time 
since the accident. He had asked his mother on occasion if anything was 
happening between them, but she was always evasive. "We have a lot to talk 
about, Jake. Your father's only helping me through this." Jake would raise an 
eyebrow, but leave it alone. Still, they spent enough time together now that 
he'd added it to his list of God topics-things he talked about with the Lord. 
The judge entered the room and immediately his parents left their conversation 
and took their places on either side of him. A. Will straightened a stack of 
papers and whispered, "Here goes." When the judge was seated, she called the 
court to order. Jake's case was first on her docket.
"I understand the defendant in State very. Daniels would like to enter a plea; 
is that right?"' A. W. was on his feet. "Yes, Your Honor. We've reached an 
agreement with the state on the correct charges." "Very well. Will the defendant 
please rise?"' Jake stood up, awed at the strange calm that had come over him. 
Your call, God ... whatever You want ... The judge glanced at a sheet of paper 
on the bench. "Mr. Daniels, you are being charged with the gross negligent use 
of a vehicle, reckless driving, and illegal street racing-all misdemeanors." She 
looked at him. "How do you plead?"' "Guilty, Your Honor.
On all charges." The words felt wonderful.
He was guilty. There was no sense playing games about it. Whatever the judge did 
next was fine with
213 him.
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "Mr.
Daniels, you're aware that each of these charges carry with them a maximum of 
six months in a juvenile detention facility?"' "Yes, Your Honor."
"And that the combination of charges means you could serve up to eighteen months 
in such a facility?"'
"Yes, Your Honor."
The judge sorted through a file of papers. "I see that your attorney has 
provided me with letters on your behalf. I'll recess this court for twenty 
minutes while I read through the file." She looked at A. W. "At that point I'll 
return and hand your client his sentence; is that understood?"'
"Yes, Your Honor." He barely paused. "I'd like you to also consider the fact 
that my client has already signed up for community service events. He plans to 
speak to students at four high schools a year for the next five years as a way 
of helping kids avoid the mistakes he made." The judge was quiet for a moment. 
"Very well. I'll consider that along with the letters."
Court was adjourned, and Jake's parents hugged him from either side. "You aren't 
nervous, are you, son?"' His father searched his face, clearly surprised.
"No. Me and God already talked it out. Whatever happens, that's what He wants. 
I'm not afraid."
A. W. gave a nervous laugh. "Well, I am. If that makes you feel any better." He 
nodded toward the judge's chamber door. "She's a tough one, that judge. No 
matter what the letters say, she could make an example out of you."
Jake saw his mother wince at the thought, and he patted her back. "Mom, you 
gotta trust God on this one. If He wants me at a detention center, that's where 
I'll go. And everything will work out fine."
"I know. I just ... I'd like to see you back at Marion. Your ideas ... about 
football and helping your friends ... they seem so good." "How many letters were 
you able to get?"' Jake's father directed his attention to A. Will 274 KAREN 
KINGSBURY "can"'Five. That's more than enough." The attorney gazed up, trying to 
remember. "One each from you and Tara, one from Jake's parole officer, one from 
the
214 person at community service he's been working with. And the best one of 
all-from John Reynolds." Coach Reynolds? Jake's stomach flip-flopped inside him. 
"You asked Coach Reynolds for a letter?"
"Yeah, why?" "I can't believe you did that ... he's gone through enough without 
having to write a letter for me. I mean, whoever told you to do something like 
that, when ..." A. W. held up a hand, and Jake stopped his sentence short. 
Though he was quiet, he was fuming. He hadn't been this angry in a while. The 
nerve of asking Coach for a letter that would help him get a lighter sentence. 
"I didn't ask Mr.
Reynolds for a letter." A. W. tilted his head, a look of vindication on his 
face. "Mr.
Reynolds offered." Jake's stomach stopped flipping and sank to his knees. What? 
Coach Reynolds-in the midst of dealing with his sick granddaughter and an 
upcoming surgery-had taken time to write a letter on his behalf? Jake looked at 
his parents and saw they were feeling the same thing. They had all known Coach 
Reynolds was a great man. But this great? This concerned about a kid who had put 
him in a wheelchair? For the first time that day, Jake felt a lump in his 
throat. The judge appeared and once more called the court to order. "In the 
matter of State very. Daniels, I have reached a decision, one that even I am not 
certain is fair." She's sending me to juvie ... Jake blinked and tried not to 
feel afraid. Help me here, God ... help me. The judge continued. "Will the 
defendant please rise?" Jake stood, his knees knocking ever so slightly. "As I 
mentioned, it is within my right to sentence you, Mr. Daniels, to eighteen 
months in a juvenile detention center." She 275
cRather A TIME TO EMBRACE paused and glanced at the district attorney. "But in 
this case, I have been inundated with requests to act otherwise." Jake saw his 
parents link hands.
"The letter that most affected me was the one written by the victim-Mr. John 
Reynolds." She held up a piece of paper. "Mr. Reynolds writes, "I beg you to let 
Jake work off his sentence while attending Marion High in the fall. For you see, 
that is when I will return to school, and if the accident had never happened, it 
would have been Jake's senior year. Being on campus without Jake will be a daily 
reminder of what happened that awful November night. Locking Jake up won't make 
him a better driver or a wiser young
215 man, nor will it lessen the impact of my injuries. But seeing Jake on campus 
at
Marion High would be almost as good as walking again."" She paused and looked at 
Jake before finishing. "@Please, Your Honor, I ask you to help my recovery by 
punishing Jake some other way. He's changed since the accident, and Marion High 
needs more kids like him on campus.
Throughout the courtroom the only sound was the faint sniff of his mother's 
tears and the thud of his own heartbeat. Had Coach really said that? Seeing him 
on campus would be as good as walking again? The judge set the letter down and 
glanced around the room. "For that reason, and because the defendant is pulling 
straight As at the continuation school, I am hereby waiving all juvenile 
detention center time. Instead, I will agree to the community service plan, 
where the defendant will speak to high-school groups four times a year for the 
next five years."
Jake was so happy he could've floated out of the courtroom. Not because he'd 
dodged a bullet, but because he was going back to Marion High, back to the same 
campus as Coach Reynolds! And because he'd have one more chance to play football 
the way he should have played it all along. God... I'll make it up to You ... I 
promise ...
Beside him, his parents looked suddenly a decade younger, and Jake realized 
something. They'd been more worried about his being KAREN KINGSBURY Ua sentenced 
to a detention center than they'd let on. The judge rapped her gavel on the 
bench. "Order." When it was quiet, she continued.
"In addition, the defendant's driver's license shall remain revoked, and he 
shall not be permitted to apply for a new license until his twenty-first 
birthday. Between now and then, he will attend a ten-week driver's safety 
course, this year and every year until he is twenty-one." She looked at Jake. 
"Most often when I hand down a sentence, I have a sense as to whether justice 
was served." She angled her head. "This time I'm not sure."
"Yes, Your Honor." "You're getting off very easy, son. I don't want to see your 
face in this court or any other ever again. Is that understood?"' Jake nodded. 
"You don't have to worry, Your Honor. I won't be back." Just like that, the 
hearing was over and Jake was being congratulated by A. W. and his parents, and 
a few Marion High football players who had stayed in the back of the courtroom. 
"Jake, man, this is
216 good. We need you back next year at
QB." It was Also Hoosey, a wide receiver.
He slapped Jake on the shoulder. "Way to go." Jake met the eyes of the boy. 
"It'll be different next year, Hoosey. Much different." The boy blinked. "That's 
a good thing, right?"' This time Jake couldn't contain his smile. "A very good 
thing." Other people milled around him, and he felt someone tug his elbow. He 
turned and found himself looking into the face of the district attorney. 
"Listen, about the judge's comment ... that she wasn't sure if justice had been 
served?"' "Yes, sir?"' Jake pivoted so the man had his full attention. "I have a 
sense about those things, too. And this time I'm sure. Justice was served." The 
attorney's face was serious, somber. "Now go out there and make sure those 
friends of yours stay away from street races, okay? That'll make my job a lot 
easier. Deal?"'
Jake swallowed hard. "Deal." 276 11
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE The crowd thinned out and his own attorney gathered his 
things and left. Finally it was just Jake and his parents.
"Amazing, huh, son?"' His mom and dad were still holding hands. They seemed in 
no hurry to leave.
"God must have big things for me next year at Marion." Jake shot a look at the 
clock on the courthouse wall. "Let's get home. I have a thank-you call to make."
His mother smiled and brushed her fingertips across his forehead, straightening 
his bangs the way she'd done back when he was a little boy. "Coach?"'
"Yep. Can't wait to tell him."
"Son ..." His father sat up a bit straighter, and Jake had the sense he was 
about to say something important. "Before we go, your mom and I have something 
we want to tell you." Abby never expected it to take place in a restaurant 
parking lot. She had known there would be a time when her family would come 
together to pray for John. But with Haley still fighting for her life, the days 
got away from them. Finally, it was Sunday, the day before John's surgery.
Kade was home for an extended spring break, and John and Abby took the family to 
brunch after church. Before the group broke up, Abby looked around the circle. 
"We wanted everyone to pray together ... before John goes in tomorrow."
217 "Great idea." Jo held her hands out to either side, closed her eyes, and 
hung her head. "Who's gonna start?"'
A few of them shared quiet smiles. Then they did the same, joining hands and 
bowing their heads there in the parking lot. Kade was the first to pray, and Jo 
and Denny added their sentiments before Nicole and Matt and Sean took turns.
Abby struggled to speak. All she could manage was a quick thanks to God for 
giving them even a glimmer of hope. 278 KAREN KINGSBURY Then it was John's turn. 
He opened his mouth to pray, but nothing came out. Then, after several seconds, 
he began to sing. "Great is Thy faithfulness . . . oh God, my Father. There is 
no shadow of turning with Thee ... His The hymn had been John's father's 
favorite, long before John was even born. One at a time the others added their 
voices, unconcerned with the looks they got from passersby. When they reached 
the chorus, they sang about the greatness of God's faithfulness and the truth 
from Lamentations that His mercies were new every morning.
No matter what. Abby found her voice and sang clear, her heart caught up in 
every word. She'd never forget this. When the song ended, John looked at the 
faces around him. "Thank you. God is faithful; I believe that. No matter what 
happens." Several of them blinked back tears as the group exchanged hugs and 
talked about their plans for the next day. Jo and Denny would meet the others at 
the hospital sometime after the surgery. Sean and Kade would be there all day, 
as would Nicole and Matt-who would primarily be with Haley, but would check in 
often to see how John was doing. "Haley's on the third floor and you'll be on 
the fifth, Daddy." Nicole hugged him tight. "Isn't that something?" Abby watched 
John. The strain of what the next day's events held was finally starting to get 
to him. He kissed Nicole on the cheek. "You just take care of my little 
granddaughter for me, okay?" "Okay." She wiped a tear.
"We'll be praying." Sean rode home with
Kade, so once John was strapped in and Abby took the driver's seat, they were by 
themselves. "Notice how no one said anything about you walking again?" It was a 
beautiful April day, the kind that shouted of the coming summer. John stared out 
the window. "I think they're afraid to hope for it."
Ui A TIME TO EMBRACE They were quiet the
218 rest of the way home, but once they got out of the car, Abby had no doubts 
where they'd wind up. Without saying a word, she followed John into the 
backyard, down the cement path, and up onto the pier. They moved toward the 
water. Abby sat in the chair, with John beside her.
"What're you thinking, Miss Abby?" He turned so his eyes met hers. "Miss Abby 
... you haven't called me that since we were kids." "Really?" "Really." John 
chuckled. "Well, not because I haven't thought it. You'll always be my little 
Miss Abby." He waited a moment, allowing the breeze from the lake to wash over 
them before he tried again. "You didn't answer me." "Hmmm." The sun was directly 
overhead, and it caused an explosion of light on the lake. She stared out at the 
water. "I guess not." "So ... you aren't thinking anything special, or you don't 
want to tell me."
"Neither." A lazy grin spread across her face. He pursed his lips, trying to 
figure her out. "I'm not sure I get it." "I am thinking something special-was 
she lowered her chin, enjoying the easy banter between them-by and I do want to 
tell you." "Okay." He crossed his arms. "So tell me."
"I was waiting for the right time. Because what I have to say is important. I 
want you to hear it straight to your soul, John Reynolds." He maneuvered his 
chair so he could see her better. Their knees were touching, though Abby knew 
John couldn't feel the sensation. Not yet, anyway. "I'm listening, Abby. Heart, 
soul, and mind." "Good." Abby drew a deep breath and her eyes settled on his. 
"I've given your surgery a lot of thought, John. I've dreamed about what it 
would be like to have you healed." She paused.
"I do the same thing." His eyes narrowed. "I think of all the ways I'd use my 
legs if I had even one more hour, one more day." "What would you do?" Her words 
were slow, easy. A hawk circled overhead. KAREN KINGSBURY to "I'd run a mile in 
the morning, play football with Sean and Kade, and make love to you all 
afternoon, Miss Abby." "Nice." She smiled, feeling the hint of warmth in her 
cheeks. "My thoughts are pretty much the same." "That's what you wanted to tell 
me?" He leaned over and gripped her legs, rubbing his thumbs gently along the 
inside of her knees. "No." She looked deeper, to the center of his soul. "I 
wanted to tell you that it doesn't matter."
219 John waited for her to finish, his head angled. "It doesn't matter if you 
get your legs back, John. There was a time when I would've told you anything 
other than a complete recovery would be tragic, hard on our lives and hard on 
our relationship." She shook her head. "But not anymore. Over the past five 
months I've learned how to love you just like this. I love helping you in and 
out of bed; I love being there to pull your pants up for you. I even love the 
way you wheel me down the pier at twenty-miles-per-hour in some newfangled 
version of the tango." She studied him, her eyes unblinking. "What I'm trying to 
say is, I want your legs back as badly as you do, but if you come out of the 
surgery tomorrow the same as you are today, that's okay, too. I couldn't love 
you more than I do right now." For a long while, John said nothing. Just stared 
at Abby while the two of them soaked in everything about the moment. "What if we 
hadn't talked that night after Nicole's wedding?" "I can't imagine." Abby's 
voice was tight, her throat thick with emotion. "I love you so much, Abby. Thank 
God we were smart enough to hear His voice, smart enough to find each other 
again." His eyes reflected the lake. Abby felt herself drowning in them, unaware 
of the world around her. "You're everything to me, Abby. Everything." "I believe 
with all my heart that God will be there tomorrow, in the operating room, 
guiding the surgeon's knife and bringing healing to your back. But remember 
something, will you, John?"
"Anything." 280 II 281 cUs A TIME TO EMBRACE "I'll be there, too." She pressed 
her fingers over his heart. "Right here ... the whole time."
"You know what we need to do first?" John's expression lightened and his eyes 
shone the way their sons' eyes shone when they were up to no good.
"First? Before the surgery, you mean?" "Yep." "Okay ... I give up. What do we 
need to do first?" He patted his lap.
"Oh, no. Not the tango."
"Yes, Abby ... come on. We're just getting good at it." Laughter formed in her 
heart and found its way out of her mouth. She stood and dropped herself 
unceremoniously onto his lap. "I won't be able to do this after tomorrow, you 
know."
He turned the wheelchair and began heading toward the far end of the pier. "Why 
not?"
"Because after tomorrow you'll feel me, silly. I'll
220 be too heavy for you."
"You? Too heavy?" He reached the top and spun the chair around, using the hand 
brake to stop it. "Never, Abby. We'll save the chair and do this once a week for 
old time's sake."
"Oh, quit." She pushed at his shoulder. As she did, John's elbow released the 
hand brake, and the chair began rolling down the pier. "Here we go." He guided 
the chair with one hand and grabbed hers with the other, holding it straight out 
in front of them, tango-style. She pressed her cheek against his as they passed 
the midway point, plummeting faster and faster toward the water. Her voice was 
loud, breathless. "Have I mentioned that this dance terrifies me?"
"Ah, Abby ... so little faith ... we'll have to do it again until you're not 
afraid anymore."
Just before they reached the end, John spun the chair in a graceful circle. But 
this time the wheels skidded and the chair flipped over, spilling John onto his 
back near the end of the pier, and Abby on top of him.
KAREN KINGSBURY VABBY muffled a scream that was more laughter than fear. She 
lifted
her face and held it inches from his. "Nice move, Reynolds." "I practiced that 
for weeks. I thought you'd love it." He ran his hands along her back, pressing 
her against him. They kissed then, their lips meeting each other first briefly, 
then in a way that spoke the things too deep for words. Abby started laughing. 
"Hey, wait a minute." John grabbed a quick breath. "You're not supposed to 
laugh. This is part of the dance." "I can't help it." Abby rested her forehead 
on his shoulder until she could breathe again. She raised up a bit and looked at 
him. "Remember that day in the hallway? How you fell backward trying to lead me 
into the kitchen?" John chuckled, still stroking her back. "One of my finest 
moments." "You said you'd never be mature, remember?" The laughter came more 
loudly for John. "Even Paula's dance classes couldn't help me."
"Apparently not." They laughed and kissed, and laughed some more, until the 
sounds of their happiness drifted across the lake and mingled with the afternoon 
winds. Only then, when they were tired from laughing, did Abby pick herself up 
and right the wheelchair. She helped John back into it and pushed him slowly up 
the pier. As long as she lived, she'd never forget this afternoon. The depth of 
love and laughter, peace and acceptance.
221 She had told John the truth. She could never love him more in all her life, 
and that would be true tomorrow, too. No matter what else the day might bring. 
282 II 283
JAKE WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING
AT SEVEN O'clock and looked at his calendar. This was the day. He could feel it 
as surely as he could feel his own heartbeat. He'd been praying, not just for 
Coach Reynolds, but for the man's little granddaughter as well. And God had 
practically told him that sometime that morning there would be drastic miracles 
for both of them.
His job was to keep praying.
So before he climbed out of bed, before he got dressed or ate breakfas that or 
did anything else, he rolled onto his stomach, buried his face
in his pillow, and prayed. Not the way he used to pray back when he was a kid, 
before the accident. But like a man.
As though his very life depended on it. There was a flurry of activity around 
Haley's incubator.
Nicole had slept down the hall in the same room where she and sometimes Matt had 
stayed since Haley was born. The little girl had KAREN KINGSBURY rather
survived four weeks, longer than the doctors had dared hope. But sti'l her lung 
activity was weak. If the situation didn't improve, she was a prime candidate 
for pneumonia, which in her frail state would almost certainly prove fatal. As 
always, Nicole had asked the nurses to get her if anything about Haley's 
condition changed. But no one had come for her, and now her heart raced as she 
saw half a dozen nurses gathered around her baby. She moved quickly down the 
aisle, past several incubators until she was as close as she could get to 
Haley's. "Excuse me . . ." Nicole peered around the nurses. "What's going on? 
That's my baby in there." A nurse Nicole recognized spun around and hugged her. 
"It's a miracle!" She pulled Nicole back a few feet away from the commotion. 
"This morning your baby's numbers looked worse than before. We were going to 
wake you up and have you come see her, but then at a little past seven o'clock, 
everything changed." Nicole's mind raced almost as fast as her heart. "Changed? 
What do you mean?" "Her lungs. It's like they opened up for the first time and 
actually sucked in a complete breath. Right away her blood oxygen
222 level soared into the healthy range." "So
... so she's doing better?" Nicole strained to see Haley, glad that the other 
nurses were going about their business again. "Not just doing better." The nurse 
positively beamed. "She's turned a corner. The doctor was just in and he 
upgraded her condition from critical to serious. If things stay this good, she 
can go home as soon as she's gained enough weight. No one can believe it. That's 
why the other nurses are here. Things like this don't just happen. Not to sick 
babies like yours." There was finally an open spot alongside the incubator, and 
Nicole pressed in as close as she could. "Can I touch her?" The nurse grinned. 
"Definitely." Nicole worked her hand through the sterile opening and soothed a 
285
More A TIME TO EMBRACE finger over
Haley's legs and arms. "Honey, it's me. Mommy." Tears spilled onto her cheeks, 
and Nicole uttered a single laugh. "God saved you, Haley. He's going to let you 
live."
She remembered the image Jo had seen so often. Three little girls running and 
skipping through the fields of heaven. Nicole shuddered. How close they'd come 
to having that be true.
Haley stretched her legs, her hands flailing at the touch of Nicole's skin. 
Nicole glanced back at the nurse. "She wants me to hold her." "She does?" The 
nurse raised an eyebrow. "We'll weigh her later today, and if her breathing is 
still this good, you should be able to hold her this afternoon."
Nicole wanted to shout out loud. Haley was going to live! Her mind raced, 
thinking of what to do next. She needed to tell Matt and his parents, needed to 
tell her parentsHer parents!
It was just after eight o'clock, and her father would be wheeled into surgery 
any minute. He couldn't go without hearing the news. Nicole whispered near the 
hole in the incubator. "Haley, baby, get some sleep.
I'll be back." Then she turned to the nurse. "Watch her for me. I have to tell 
the others."
Nicole hadn't run this fast since before the baby was born. She bounded down the 
hall and into the elevator, and darted back out the moment it reached the fifth 
floor. Quick as her feet would carry her, she made her way to the nurses' 
station. "I'm looking for my dad, John Reynolds."
The nurse pointed. "He's on his way to surgery."
"Thanks." Nicole took off down the hall.
223 Oh, not yet ... please, God, let me catch him in time.
She rounded a corner near the elevator and ran smack into Kade, who tripped, 
toppling both of them onto the floor, their legs and arms tangled. From her 
position on the hospital floor, she shouted at her father. "Don't go anywhere, 
Dad. I have to tell you something." Her mother helped her to her feet, while 
Kade flopped onto his 286
KAREN KINGSBURY knowledge backside and struggled to get up. "Nice tackle." He 
straightened his baseball cap. "You missed your calling, Nicole. You shoulda 
been a lineman, not a teacher." "Sorry." Nicole brushed the dust off Kade's 
jeans and then her own. "I had to reach Dad before he went into surgery." Her 
father was lying on the stretcher, just outside the elevator doors. He was 
quietly laughing, his eyebrows raised. "Whatever it is, it must be good." Nicole 
nodded to Sean and moved closer to her father. A technician stood at the foot of 
the stretcher, watching her like she was a crazy woman. She waved at him. "Hello 
... sorry about the excitement." The elevator door opened, and Nicole shook her 
head at the man. "Not yet. Give me a minute, okay?" Nicole, whatever is going 
on?"
Her mother came up beside her, searching her face. "Just a minute. Dad-was she 
turned her attention back to her father-by Haley's turned a corner. She's 
breathing like a regular baby and ..." Nicole could barely catch her breath, 
first from the hospital sprint, but also from the sheer exhilaration of the 
miracle that had occurred. She exhaled, struggling to compose herself. "The 
doctor said she's turned a corner. She's out of danger, Dad. Isn't that 
amazing?" Now it was Kade's turn to tackle her. He lifted her in a bear hug 
while Sean and her mother circled their arms around her. Her father reached for 
her hand and squeezed it. "Are you serious, sweetheart?" Nicole worked herself 
free from the group hug. "Yes, Daddy." She bent over him, searching his eyes. 
"And God's not finished yet. I couldn't let you go into surgery without knowing 
what God was doing. What He's still going to do for you before the day is up." 
"So, honey, what happened? She just breathed on her own for no reason?" The 
elevator doors opened again, and Nicole flashed the technician a smile. "One 
more minute?
Please?" He shrugged. "They can't start without your father."
224 
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Nicole looked at her mother. "No one knows what happened. 
Sometime around seven o'clock she sucked in a full breath of air. The monitors 
all went off, telling the staff that she was finally breathing on her own. She's 
been breathing great ever since."
"Yes!" Sean raised his fist in the air. "My little niece is gonna live!" 
Nicole's voice grew softer. "So, Dad ... now it's your turn, okay?" Her father 
smiled, his eyes dry. "You tell that little girl of yours that one day soon, her 
grandpa's going to take her for a walk."
"Okay." Nicole stepped back and nodded to the technician just as the elevator 
doors opened one more time. "Go get "em."
She linked arms with Sean and Kade and Mom. The last thing any of them saw as 
John was wheeled into the elevator was a smile that stretched across his face. 
That and his raised fist as he flashed them the thumbs-up sign.
Seeing it made Nicole's eyes fill with tears. It was the sign her father had 
always flashed from the football field, but not before every game. Just those he 
was sure they were going to win. Abby had never paced in all her life, but she 
was pacing now. Not the slow, musing type of pace reserved for pensive moments. 
Rather a quick one. Fast steps across the waiting room to the wall of windows, 
and then faster steps back again.
Nicole and Matt were downstairs with Haley, the boys had gone to the cafeteria 
for something to eat, and Jo and Denny weren't there yet. So, Abby was alone. 
The operation had been underway for nearly an hour, and Abby had more energy 
than she knew what to do with.
Yes, she would love John the same if the surgery didn't restore feeling to his 
legs. But what if it did? What if he could actually walk and run and drive a car 
again? How amazing would that be? Not only would they have found a deeper love 
because of the accident, but they would have a second chance to enjoy it.
The possibilities made Abby's heart race, and the only way she 288 KAREN 
KINGSBURY Ada
knew to work through it was to pace. Hard and fast, in a way that gave her 
nervous energy an escape. Dr. Furin had told them the operation could take four 
hours. They had to identify each strand of John's
225 damaged spinal cord and painstakingly repair it. If they were right, if he 
was to have any chance of walking again, they would find a few strands still 
intact. That would explain the feeling and movement in his toes. But that was 
only half the battle. The other half was making sure the repair went perfectly 
well. Strand by strand, hour after painstaking hour.
Abby paced faster. She was still pacing when Jo and Denny came down the hall and 
stopped at the entrance to the waiting room. "My land, Abby, what in tarnation 
are you doing?"' Jo came up beside her and took hold of her arm. "Trying to wear 
a hole in the floor?"' For the first time in half an hour, Abby stopped. "I 
don't know what else to do."
"Well, that's easy as fly bait." Jo led
Abby to the nearest sofa, with Denny still watching from the doorway. "You sit 
yourself right down here and pray." She motioned for Denny to join them. As he 
did, he pulled a newspaper section from behind his back and handed it to Abby. 
Jo beamed at her. "Then, when you're finished praying, you can read this. After 
that I don't think you'll feel much like pacing." Abby took the newspaper and 
nodded, closing her eyes while Denny prayed for the surgeons' hands to be guided 
by God's mighty grip. When they were finished, Abby held the paper up and stared 
at it. For a moment, she wasn't sure what she was seeing. The entire page was 
filled with column after column of names. Then her eyes shot to the top of the 
page. What she saw made her gasp out loud. It was a full-page ad, and the 
headline read, "We're praying for you, Coach!" Beneath that was a smaller 
section that said, "We, the students and 289
More A TIME To EMBRACE teachers at Marion High, wish to publicly thank Coach 
John Reynolds for everything he's done to make us winners. Today, as he goes 
into surgery, we will be praying for his complete recovery. And that next year 
he might still be head coach of the mighty Eagles."
The sentiment was followed by a list of names too great to read through in one 
sitting. Hundreds of names, names of teachers and students and players-many Abby 
didn't even recognize. "See." Jo gave a firm nod. "I knew that'd stop your 
pacing." The newspaper shook in Abby's hand. "John won't believe it." Jo was 
right about her nervous energy. After seeing the full-page ad from the community 
at Marion High, Abby felt strangely peaceful. She passed the next three hours 
either
226 praying or playing cards with Jo and Denny.
When they weren't in the cafeteria eating, Kade and Sean kept busy with Sean's 
NFL Game
Boy. Occasionally Nicole and Matt found their way up to the waiting room anxious 
for a report. But there was none.
Abby tried not to see that as a bad sign. Dr. Furin had said he'd do his best to 
give the family updates throughout the surgery. Almost four hours had passed, 
and still they'd heard nothing.
"Shouldn't we know by now?"' Denny peered over the cards in his hand and sent 
Abby a quick look.
"I thought so." She drew a steady breath. Come on, heart. Stay steady. "I guess 
we'll just have to wait."
"A good fisherman knows all about waiting." Jo played a card. She looked 
completely unfazed, as though they were passing the afternoon in a sunny parlor 
and not the waiting room of a hospital. "Only instead of casting a line, today 
we're casting our cares." She grinned at Abby. "Beats pacing, don't it?"'
Another thirty minutes passed, and Abby didn't care if Jo was right. She had 
cast her cares on God a hundred times in the past hour, and the anxiety was 
back. "Okay, guys-" she looked at Jo and Denny and motioned for the boys to join 
them-by it's time to pray again." 290 KAREN KINGSBURY Us But before they could 
utter a single word, Dr. Furin appeared. Abby squinted to make out his 
expression. She had seen the hint of a grin play on the man's face before, but 
she'd never seen his face fully taken up with a smile. Until now. Abby was on 
her feet immediately. "How is he?" The others stayed perfectly still, staring at 
the doctor, waiting for the news. "He came through the surgery beautifully." Dr. 
Furin took a seat across from them. "His break was just as we hoped it might be. 
We had barely enough cord to work with." Abby was frantic for the news. Her 
entire body trembled. "Can you tell yet? Whether it worked?" The doctor's smile 
got even bigger. "He's already coming out of anesthesia and we've gotten 
reaction from all of his major reflexes." He held his hands out to his sides. 
"The operation was a complete success. He'll need therapy, of course, to regain 
the strength in his legs. But I expect him to make a full recovery." Jo stood up 
and stared down at the doctor, her hands on her hips. "I'm a lot simpler than 
most folk,
227 Doctor. I don't want this full recovery or therapy business. The question 
is: Will the man walk again?" "Yes." Dr. Furin laughed out loud. "He'll beat you 
in a footrace before summer." "Yahoo!" Jo raised her fist straight into the air. 
"Thank You, Jesus!" Kade and Sean slid onto the sofa on either side of Abby and 
hugged her. They were both crying. "I didn't think-was Kade was too choked up to 
say more. "What he means is-was Sean wiped his tears-by neither of us thought it 
would really happen. We thought ... we thought you grownups were crazy to think 
an operation could help Dad walk again." "I feel so bad."
Kade sniffed, his face still buried in Abby's shoulder. Dr. Furin nodded at her 
and quietly stood to leave. They could talk about the details later. For now she 
had two boys to comfort. Jo took Denny by the hand and whispered to Abby, "I'll 
go tell Nicole." 291
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE Abby nodded and waited until they were gone. Then she 
soothed her hands over the backs of her boys. "It's okay ... you don't have to 
feel bad. Daddy's going to be fine." They might be teenagers, but inside they 
were still children, still desperately in need of consoling. Especially with all 
that had happened in their lives this past year. Kade coughed and lifted his 
face enough so Abby could see his swollen eyes. "I didn't believe, Mom. I've 
been a
Christian all these years, and ... and Matt's parents had more faith." He 
twisted his face in anger. "What does that say about me?"
"Me, too." Sean sniffed. "I knew everyone was praying for a miracle. I mean, I 
prayed for Dad to be okay. But I never really thought he'd walk again." "You're 
not the only ones, boys. There were times when I felt the same way. I had to 
believe the operation wouldn't work and imagine my life that way. Even today I 
had trouble believing it would actually happen." "Really?" Kade sat up a bit 
straighter. He dragged the back of his hand beneath his eyes. "I thought that 
kind of thing didn't happen to people your age."
Abby chuckled, giving Kade a soft punch in the gut. "People my age?" She raised 
her eyebrows. "I think it happens more to people my age." She thought of Haley 
Ann and her laughter dimmed a bit. "Because we've had a chance to see the truth 
that sometimes God doesn't give us the answer we want."
"So, Dad's really going to walk again?" The reality
228 of what had happened was sinking in, and Sean couldn't contain himself. He 
bounced up and down on the seat. "Maybe he and I can go jogging this summer. 
Like, every day for a mile or two."
Kade laughed. "Give him time, buddy. First he has to get his legs strong enough 
to move them."
They were discussing the process of muscle atrophy, when Nicole
and Matt came tearing around the corner. "Is it true?" Nicole grabbed Abby's 
hands. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears. "My parents told me the 
operation was a success. They're taking a KAREN KINGSBURY Us turn with Haley, 
but we had to come up and ask for ourselves. Is that really what the doctor 
said?" Matt blurted out. Abby grinned and the feeling seemed to come from the 
depths of her soul. "To quote the man, he said your father will beat people at 
footraces before summer hits." "Yes!"
Nicole flew into Matt's arms, and then moved around the room, hugging Abby and 
her brothers. "I knew it was going to be a day of miracles. I just knew it." As 
her children began talking all at once, laughing and smiling, filled with a hope 
they hadn't had before, Abby felt the nervous energy come over her again. Not 
because she was worried or anxious, but because there was something she had to 
do. Something no amount of pacing would satisfy. "I'll be right back." Abby 
stood and headed down the hallway. "Wait." Nicole called after her. "Where're 
you going?" Abby only grinned, this time bigger than before. "That's not fair. I 
want to see him, too."
"Me first. If he's awake, I'll come get the rest of you." Abby sent them a look 
that said they better not follow her. Then she practically ran toward John's 
room to do the one thing she'd wanted to do since his operation began. Walk up 
to him, kiss him on the lips, and challenge him to a June footrace. She slowed 
her pace as she neared his room. She didn't want to wake him if he was asleep. 
He was probably exhausted, and definitely still sedated. There were no sounds 
coming from his bed as she leaned her head inside the room, and then crept up 
alongside him. "John, you did it, baby!" Her voice was a tender whisper, the 
kind she hoped he could hear in his dreams. For a while he stayed still, but 
then he let out a weak moan. His neck was stabilized, so he couldn't turn his 
head. But his eyes began to move beneath the lids. After a few seconds he 
blinked, and Abby saw panic fill his expression. "Honey, it's okay. The
229 
cUa A TIME TO EMBRACE He shifted his eyes toward her voice. The moment he saw 
her, the panic faded. "Hi."
She ran her fingers over his arm and bent down, kissing him on his forehead. 
"Hi."
"How long've I been here?" He winced, straining against the neck brace.
"Not long. An hour maybe."
The fog of medication seemed to clear, and his look became more intense. "Tell 
me, Abby ... did it work?"
"Oh, honey, yes!" A single laugh escaped Abby's mouth, and she smothered it with 
her hand. She couldn't stop the tears that gathered in her eyes. "It worked 
perfectly. Dr. Furin says your leg reflexes are all normal." "So ..." He 
swallowed hard, and she could hear how dry his mouth was. "So ... I'll be able 
to walk again?"
Abby nodded. "Try, John. Try to move your legs." His head was strapped to the 
bed, but he stared down the length of his body. Abby watched as both his legs 
trembled beneath the sheets. If it had been any other time, if he hadn't just 
come out of surgery, Abby would have thought the movement an involuntary 
shivering. But not this time. John met her eyes again. "Did you see that?"
"Yes!" She brought her face close to his, not sure if she wanted to laugh or 
cry. "Did you feel it?" "I did."
Abby stood again and this time she saw something she hadn't seen since John had 
been injured. He was crying. Not the way their sons had cried earlier, but in a 
quiet way that didn't seem like crying at all. Rather, it looked as though John 
had sprung a leak on either side of his face. She kissed one of his cheeks, 
tasting the salt of his tears. "It's a miracle, John."
He sniffed and laughed at the same time. "How long before I can walk?"
"The doctor said you'd be winning footraces by summer." She kissed KAREN 
KINGSBURY cUa him again. "But I told the guy he was crazy. I'm a faster runner. 
I'd beat you. No contest." "Oh, yeah?" John's voice was tired again, and a 
sleepy smile drifted across his face. "Is that a challenge?" "Absolutely." She 
giggled, anxious for the days and weeks to pass. Desperate to see him fully 
recovered. "Okay, you're on." His lids grew heavy and finally closed
230 altogether. "June it is." Abby stepped back and leaned against the wall. 
"Goodnight, John." He was already asleep, the smile still on his face. She knew 
the others were waiting for a chance to see him, but she couldn't tear herself 
away, couldn't stop staring at him, reminding herself that it had really 
happened. The surgery had fixed John's legs! She closed her eyes and lifted her 
face toward heaven. God ... thank You doesn't come close to telling You how I 
feel, First Haley ... now John. You are so good, God. No matter what happens, 
there You are. Giving us peace ... teaching us how to love ... restoring us to a 
life bursting with hope. Thank You, God. She remembered some of the verses that 
had pulled her through the dark days of John's paralysis: "In this world you 
will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" ... "Lean not on 
your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your 
paths straight ... His Abby marveled at the promises. God had definitely 
delivered-and long before John's successful surgery. A dozen moments flashed in 
her mind. The day when John would take his first steps, the morning when he 
could finally come home, the time when he would first push little Haley in her 
stroller . . . the moment when he would run again. And on some far-off June 
afternoon, the time when they would line up along one end of their backyard and 
race to the other. Of all the athletic feats John had accomplished, that single 
run would be the greatest of his life. 294 1 295
KAREN KINGSBURY Us
As MOVEMENT WENT, IT WASN'T MUCH.
They had to gather close around John's bed, their faces inches from his covered 
legs, just to see it. But Abby couldn't have been happier if John had jumped on 
top of the bed and danced a jig on the hospital sheets.
"See-was John pointed to his legs-by watch, I'll do it again." Kade and Sean and 
Nicole and Matt closed in and stared at John's legs. His left knee rose half an 
inch, then his right, followed by the faintest rustling of all ten toes beneath 
the blankets. "It's amazing, Dad." Nicole took his hand. "You and Haley ... on 
the same day. Only God could've worked that out."
It was Wednesday night, three days after the surgery, and Dr. Furin's reports 
had been nothing but glowing. John had surface and muscular sensation in nearly 
all sections of his lower extremities. The skin on the back of his calves
231 was still somewhat numb, but the doctor wasn't worried. Rarely, in the few 
incidents where spinal cord injuries had been reversed, did complete sensation 
return just days after surgery. "You're an exceptional case," Dr. Furin told him 
earlier that day. "You must have taken my advice." John winked at the doctor. 
"Absolutely."
He pointed to the fullpage ad hanging on his hospital wall. "Most of Marion was 
praying for me." Abby stepped back and let the kids ooh and aah over John's 
ability to move his legs. Everything about the past few days had been 
unforgettable. Seeing John that first day, watching their kids' faces when they 
were able to see for themselves that, yes, John had feeling in his legs once 
again. And especially handing him the newspaper ad. She'd given it to him the 
morning after the surgery, and at first he'd had as much trouble as Abby trying 
to make sense of it. Then he read the headline and the copy beneath it and 
stared at her, unable to speak. "They love you, John." She shrugged, her voice 
tight. "I guess they always did." "So they were ..." He looked at the list of 
hundreds of names. "They were all praying for me?" Abby nodded. "Apparently Kade 
told some of the guys on the team that Dr. Furin wanted everyone praying." She 
smiled. "A few of them took the order literally and began getting signatures. 
Anyone who would promise to pray, anyone who wanted to thank you for what you've 
done for that school, got their name on the list." John had stared at it for a 
long time, scanning the names. "It's unbelievable." "Not just that, but you had 
our prayers and those of Jo and Denny." A chuckle worked its way through John's 
stiff neck and slid through his teeth. "Jo's someone I'd always want praying for 
me." "She doesn't so much ask God, as she demands. Almost like she already knows 
it's going to work out, so let's get it worked out already." "Exactly." In the 
days since his surgery, they had shared many precious hours. So far only family 
had been in to see him. Family and Jake Daniels. Nothing could've kept the boy 
away. Abby guessed he'd be back again later that night. But now John was ready 
for other visitors as well. 297
cMore" A TIME TO EMBRACE John was feeling so good that Abby had given the green 
light to several people who wanted to come by. Already three players and their 
parents had stopped in, and now the kids were here. John never got tired of 
moving his
232 legs on command-even a little. The atmosphere was as festive as Christmas 
Day.
"Hey, Dad. How come you can't lift your knees up or get out of bed yet?" Sean 
ran a finger over John's knee, staring at it. "I thought your legs were better."
"Dark." Kade elbowed his younger brother. "His leg muscles are gone. I told you, 
remember? He doesn't have any strength. He'll have to work to get them moving 
again."
John grinned at the exchange. "Yep, your dad's about as weak as little Haley."
Abby looked at Nicole. "How's she doing, sweetheart?" "Wonderful. I get to hold 
her whenever I want." Nicole looked better than she had since she'd had the 
baby. Happy, content, and well-rested. "She weighs three pounds and she's 
gaining a few ounces every day. Her breathing is normal and she has no cerebral 
palsy from the early delivery." Nicole clasped Matt's hand. "She could come home 
in just three weeks if everything goes well."
The hospital door opened and Jo and Denny walked in. Jo was carrying a big 
wrapped box with a giant fish balloon floating from it. The fish read, "What a 
Catch!" Jo smiled big as she handed it to John. He stared at it and bit his lip. 
"Thanks, Jo ... Denny. You didn't have to do this."
"Ain't that the best balloon you ever saw?" Jo looked straight up at the 
green-and-gold mylar fish dancing above John's bed. "Denny told me it wasn't 
appropriate for a get-well gift, but I think it works." She looked at John, her 
face earnest. "See, once you're up and runnin' around again, you'll wanna get 
out in that boat of yours and do some fishin'. At least that's what I'd wanna 
do. And the minute you're back behind the rod, I know it in my bones you'll 
catch the fish of your life. So, see, the balloon works. @What a Catch!""
298 KAREN KINGSBURY cUa Abby and the others struggled to keep from laughing. 
Denny rolled his eyes and shook his head in Jo's direction. "The woman's 
delusional." Jo spun around and gave Denny a light kick in the shins. "I am not. 
His She turned back to John. "It works another way, too. When you're up and 
feeling better, those strappin' sons o" yours will have you on the football 
field in no time. Now I know your legs might take a bit gettin' used to, but not 
that arm you
233 got." Jo brought her hand up and back behind her head, like she was about to 
throw a ball. "There you'll be, winding back, throwing for all you're worth ... 
and one of these here boys will catch the ball. And you'll say-was "What a 
catch!" John winked at
Denny. "Makes perfect sense to me." John was able to sit up now, and he 
positioned himself a little higher on the bed. He still wore the neck brace, and 
would for several weeks. But it didn't keep him from enjoying the celebration. 
He slid the paper off the gift box, opened it, and pulled out a pair of 
well-worn Nikes. They were dirty, with barely any sole left, and two large holes 
near the tips. "Okay." Jo motioned to the old shoes. "Let me explain." A few 
giggles rose from Sean and Kade, but Jo waved her finger at them. "Hey, there 
... don't laugh. There's a story behind them shoes." "Here we go." Denny shook 
his head. "I told her to give you flowers or candy like a normal person, but ... 
well, you know." "Stop." Jo snapped her fingers. She looked at Abby, then back 
to John. Abby could only guess what sort of story she was about to tell. "I hear 
tell you and Abby's gonna have a footrace sometime this June." She flashed a 
quick glance at Abby. "Ain't that so?" Abby lowered her chin, doing her best to 
keep a serious face. "It is." "Okay, then." She looked at John again. "I got the 
idea the other day when I was lookin' at your feet. I said to myself, @Jo ... 
why those feet look almost the same size as my Denny's feet."" She cupped her 
hands around her mouth and whispered the next part. "Denny has big feet for a 
small man." 299
More A TIME TO EMBRACE "Thank you, honey."
"You're welcome." Jo smiled and resumed the story. "So I started thinkin' about 
the time when Denny had the darndest run o' great fishin' days. I mean one day 
he'd catch three prize babies and the next he'd catch four. Went like that for 
weeks on end. And these-was she snatched the old shoes from John's hands and 
held them up for everyone to admire-by these were the shoes Denny wore back 
then." Her head jerked in a quick nod. "Saved "em all these years in case we 
ever needed a pair of lucky shoes."
"So ..." John reached for the shoes again and grinned at them. "You want me to 
wear these when I race Abby. Is that it?"' "0' course." She
234 shook her head and shot a look at Abby and Nicole. "Men aren't the quickest 
study, are they?"'
Abby opened her mouth to answer, but Jo beat her to it. "Okay, everyone, listen 
up. Denny and I got an announcement."
Abby and Nicole exchanged a quick giggle, before covering their mouths and 
giving Jo their attention again.
"Jo ... we already told "em." Denny's cheeks were pink, and he wore an 
apologetic look on his face. "Her memory's a little dim these days."
Her hands flew to her hips. "It is not. Besides, I never told "em the facts." 
She turned to the others once more. "Me and Denny bought our tickets to Mexico." 
Jo winked at Nicole, and a knowing look filled Nicole's face. Whatever Jo was 
about to say, she'd obviously already shared it with Nicole. Abby made a mental 
note to ask Nicole about it later. Jo whipped two small folders from her purse 
and held them up. "These are stamped and dated. Good for two one-way flights to 
Mexico the third of June."
"One-way?"' Matt took a step closer and scrutinized the tickets. "You're coming 
back aren't you."
"Yes. Six months ... a year maybe."
Jo slipped the tickets back in her purse. "Don't worry, I can't miss little 
Haley growin' up." "We'll come back to the States every few months for a visit." 
300 Denny slipped his arm around Jo. "But we have to go." He and Jo swapped a 
tender look. "It's something we promised God." "By the way-" Jo tapped Kade on 
the shoulder-by Denny says you've been talkin' to the pastor at church." Kade 
looked startled. "Uh ... yes." The look he shot at John and Abby was uncertain. 
"We've gotten together a few times." "Well, that's not the point." Jo waved her 
hand in the air. "The point is, maybe you're thinkin' about being a pastor. Are 
ya?"
"No . . ." Kade's eyes grew wide.
"Not really." "A missionary, then?" "Not so far." "Well, that don't matter." Jo 
flicked her fingers over her head as though she were shooing away a fly. "Point 
is, we could use a strappin' young lad like you down in Mexico for a few weeks 
in July." She glanced at Denny. "Ain't that so, honey?" Denny nodded, clearly 
embarrassed by Jo's approach. "That's what the pastor said. They
235 want a team of volunteers to put a new roof on the orphanage." Abby studied 
Kade and watched his confusion turn to curiosity. "Really?" "Yes." Jo slapped 
Kade on the back. "And it's just a few weeks. Your football team won't miss you 
for a few weeks in July." Kade asked several questions about the trip. When it 
was exactly ... and whether some of his football buddies could come. Abby 
watched in silent awe. A year ago Kade was heart-deep in the stench of 
pornography . . . and now he was considering a stay in Mexico to build a roof 
for orphan children. He'd been meeting with their pastor whenever he was home, 
and the change that had come about was amazing. Kade was tender and kind, more 
aware of spiritual issues. Walking daily outside God's plan for his life had 
caused calluses on his soul, but they were gone now, all of them. God, Himself, 
had removed them. Nicole and Sean joined the conversation, asking more about
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE orphanage and the types of children who lived there. John 
reached over and linked fingers with Abby. "Maybe we should go, too." Abby 
raised an eyebrow. "A footrace is one thing, John Reynolds. Building roofs in 
Mexico is another." She looked at
Jo. "Ask us next year." "Actually ... it might be good therapy if-was
The door opened and Tim and Tara Daniels walked in. Jake was with them, a grin 
plastered across his face. He looked at John and the two swapped a knowing look. 
Abby knew immediately. The two of them were up to something.
"This a good time, Coach?" Jake moved in front of his parents and anchored 
himself near the foot of John's bed.
John did a quick survey of the room. "I believe it is." "Hi, everyone." Jake 
waved at the others.
Abby could sense a slight hesitation on Nicole's part, but otherwise the group 
smiled and bid the boy hello.
"We won't be long. Just wanted to be here for a couple announcements." Jake 
nodded to his parents. "My folks can go first." Tim took a step forward and 
looked from Abby to John. "Tara and I .. He reached back for her hand. "We 
wanted to thank you for praying for us. We've ... we've talked it over and 
decided we never should've gotten divorced."
236 A quick giggle came from Taro's throat.
"We wanted you to be the first to know." "Other than me, of course." Jake stood 
between his parents and flung his arms over their shoulders.
"Of course." Tara smiled at Jake and then turned back to the rest of them. "Tim 
and I are getting married the first Saturday in June." She looked at Abby, tears 
welling in her eyes. "We want you and John to stand up for us. Be our best man 
and maid of honor."
"Right." Tim nodded. "Because it wouldn't have happened without you two."
"Isn't that awesome!" Jake gave a high-five to Kade and Sean, John and Matt. "My 
parents are getting married!" KAREN KINGSBURY Us "Oh, you guys." Abby moved 
around John's bed and hugged them, first Tim, then Tara, and finally Jake. 
"That's wonderful. Of course we'll be there." Who would've ever thought a year 
ago-back when she and John were determined to divorce-that God would not only 
save their marriage and make their love stronger than ever, but that He'd use 
them to reach two people like Tim and Tara. John's eyes danced and he pointed to 
the fish balloon. "In honor of your engagement, Tim, I think you deserve my 
balloon." He grinned at
Tara. "I mean, what a catch!" Everyone laughed and then Jake waved his hands. 
"Okay ... quiet ... it's Coach's turn." A strange feeling bounced around in 
Abby's gut. Coach's turn? What was this about? And why hadn't John told her he 
had something to say? "Dad?"' Kade gave John a curious look. "You have an 
announcement?"' John shrugged as best he could with the brace in the way. His 
lopsided grin told Abby all she needed to know. Whatever he was about to say, he 
and Jake had this part planned out. "Yeah, I guess so." "Go on, Coach. Tell 
"em."
"Okay." John straightened himself once more. "Jake and I did a little talking 
the other day, and he told me next year'll be his best ever. I mean . . ." John 
angled his head, a grin playing on the corners of his mouth. "He'll be a senior 
and all." "And for the first time I'll be really listening to Coach ... you 
know, doing whatever he asks me to do ..." Abby held her breath. Could he be 
about to say-his "So I decided to revoke my resignation." John lifted his hands 
and let them fall to his lap. "I'm going to coach next year, after all!" The 
room erupted in a chorus of
237 congratulations and hugs, highfives and laughter. Jo slapped her leg. "That 
settles it. The Marion High athletic director-what's his name?" 302 that 303
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE "Herman
Lutz." John grinned. "Right, that's it. Lutz. Well, he gets the fish balloon. 
I'll take it into his office myself and hand it to him. @What a catch, buddy!" 
I'll tell him, @It's your lucky day because you just got John Reynolds back as 
coach!""
Again everyone lit into conversation, guessing at the team's record next year 
and making predictions about how well Jake would do. Abby tuned most of it out 
and leaned against the hospital wall. Her eyes found John, and she saw that he 
wasn't listening either. Instead they held a private conversation with their 
eyes. A dialogue where Abby told John how proud she was that he'd stood his 
ground and won, that he'd been willing to take a second look at the coaching job 
at Marion and realize it was where he belonged. And John silently thanked her 
for standing by him. Not just through the difficult days last season, or the 
horror of his accident, but during his wheelchair days and the anticipation over 
his surgery. And even now, when he was choosing to take time away from her once 
more to do the thing he loved.
"I can't wait." She mouthed the words, enjoying this private moment while the 
rest of the room celebrated loudly around them. "Me, either." He held his hand 
toward her and she came, linking her fingers with his and feeling his love with 
every fiber of her being. "You know what, Abby?" "What?" They were still 
whispering. "It's going to be the best season ever."
Abby smiled and squeezed his hand. They had come so far, through so much. Yet 
now she was back where she'd started so many years ago. Looking forward to 
September and the warm glow of stadium lights on the face of the man she loved 
more than any in the world. Being caught up in a series of Friday night games, 
the way she'd been since she was a small girl. The summer lay ahead of them, and 
with it no doubt dozens of small miracles. Haley would come home, and John would 
be up and 304 KAREN KINGSBURY be
walking again. But right then and there, Abby was consumed with one tantalizing 
thought. John Reynolds was going to coach again. Abby could hardly wait for the 
new season of their life together to begin. John was right ... it was going to 
be the best ever. 305
238 Ma A TIME TO EMBRACE their love, their oneness derailed somewhere along the 
road to forever. God tells us in Scripture that He will never let us be tempted 
beyond what we can bear, but that when we're tempted, He will provide a way of 
escape.
That is always true, even when our marriages begin to crumble. Of course, too 
often one or both spouses is not willing to look for that escape route, not 
willing to hear the voice of God above the voice of their own desires. But when 
both people will follow God's way of escape and put away their differences, the 
result is something more beautiful than you could dare to dream.
If you've read my other novels, you know that we have six children, the youngest 
of whom had heart troubles as an infant. Little Austin was born with a defective 
aorta, the main artery out of the heart. In what was a very delicate surgery, 
doctors removed the bad sections of Austin's aorta and replaced it with a piece 
of artery from his left arm. The whole thing seemed unbelievable to me and my 
husband. "What if the patch job doesn't take?" I asked the doctor after the 
operation.
"Oh, it'll take. In fact the area where there was trauma and healing will 
actually be stronger than the unaffected sections." I thought about that for a 
long time and marveled at the truth there. Where there was trauma and healing, 
that section would be stronger than any other. And so it is in our marriages.
Trauma will come to most relationships. Disagreements, differences, arguments. 
Even sometimes betrayal. God knew we'd stumble along the way, so He gave us His 
Word wrought with advice on how to handle it. How to make points of trauma, 
places of healing. And come out stronger in the end because of it. Forgive as 
the Lord forgave you. Love is patient.
Love is kind... It is not easily angered.
Be completely humble and gentle. 308 KAREN KINGSBURY Us Love covers over a 
multitude of sins. Bear with each other. Encourage on another. Yes, God knows 
what it is to be wronged. Remember the first Good Friday? There He was with His 
closest friends, each of them making grand promises of loyalty and commitment, 
when suddenly a troop of soldiers appeared. What did Jesus' most faithful 
followers do? They ran. And that's the same thing we're tempted to do when our 
marriages don't go the way we expected, but we'd do well
239 to follow Christ's example. Not only did He forgive His friends, He embraced 
them. When He appeared to them in the upper room after that glorious 
Resurrection Sunday, He comforted them with no thought of the wrongs they'd 
committed against Him. When I finished A Time to Dance, many of you wrote to me 
wondering what happened to Abby and John ... how they were able to work their 
reconciliation into an everyday life without falling prey to the problems that 
plagued them at first. It was then that I realized the lesson of trauma and 
healing. The couples I know who have found glorious restoration in their 
marriages, almost always do so in a way that makes their relationship better, 
stronger, more loving than ever before. The reason? A troubled marriage is a 
tested one. And when we look to God together as a way of passing the test, we 
will always be closer in the long run. Please don't read into this a callousness 
toward those of you who've suffered through a divorce. It is the rare exception 
when two people determined to walk away from each other stop and look to God 
instead. Many of you would love to have a spouse willing to listen to God, 
willing to look for the escape route that would lead you away from divorce. But 
far too often that spouse still leaves, completely hardened to God's voice. For 
you, I pray God's tender mercy and healing upon your life. 309
Us A TIME TO EMBRACE That you would look to Him, the Author of life, for 
whatever your next step should be, and that you would believe He is the God of 
second chances. That He has good plans for you even now. For those of you 
considering a divorce, mired in the throes of bitterness and betrayal, my prayer 
is that you stop attacking each other. Stop thinking it's your husband's fault 
or wishing you had a different wife. Realize, instead, that the enemy of our 
souls is the one who destroys what God has created. And the oneness of marriage 
is definitely a God-given gift.
Get counseling ... pray together ... pray for each other ... look for ways to 
honor your spouse. And most of all search for the route of escape. Quite often 
that escape route is as simple as making an apology. Then allow God to heal your 
broken love. Let Him give you a time to laugh and love and live in peace. A time 
to embrace. And see if the bond you share isn't much stronger as a result. On a 
personal note, we have had our adopted Haitian sons home for more than a year 
now and life couldn't be sweeter. Our biological children have
240 embraced their new brothers in a way that can only be considered miraculous. 
Our entire family owes a debt of thanks to so many of you who have prayed for us 
along the journey.
We have had some hard times as well. After fourteen years of coaching 
basketball, my husband will be taking a few years off. Without getting into 
great detail, I can say this: some of the issues John Reynolds experienced the 
season before his injury were very, very close to home. We are, of course, glad 
to have Don home with us. The kids love it when he holds "mini-camp" in the 
backyard. But still, there is loss.
If your son or daughter participates in organized sports, I have this challenge 
for you: thank the coach. If he or she is someone who cares for your child, 
someone who doesn't use foul language or abuse your kids for the sake of a 
victory, take time to be grateful. After every game, every practice, make it a 
habit to find those coaches who volunteer 310 KAREN KINGSBURY
Us their time or who get paid only pennies for doing the job, and thank them. 
Coaches good coaches-are hard to find. And when parents fail to see that, 
everyone loses. As always, I pray this finds you and yours well, and feasting on 
our Lord's rich promises. We look forward with you to whatever adventures the 
Lord has around the corner. Keep praying that I write the books God places on my 
heart in a way that will leave a life-changing mark on yours. In His love, and 
until next time ... Karen Kingsbury P.s. As always, you can E-mail me at 
rtnbykk@aol.com, or contact me at my Web site: www.karenKingsburycom
AS ALWAYS, WHENEVER I PUT TOGETHER A
NOVEL THERE are hosts of people working behind the scenes to make it possible. 
On that note, thanks must first go to my husband and kids, for understanding my 
need to hide away when deadline calls. There were reasons why this book was 
harder to finish than most. I couldn't have done it if you hadn't pulled 
together and allowed me the time to write. I love you all!
Also, thanks to my family support team, especially my mom and dad, and the rest 
of you who take time to read my books and offer valuable insight. A special 
thanks to my niece, Shannon, for always being the first with feedback. One day I 
expect to be reading your books, honey.
Prayer support is crucial when writing a
241 novel-especially one with God-given truths woven throughout. I would be 
unable to write the stories God has given me if not for the prayers of my 
husband and kids, my family, and friends. I'm blessed to have not just those 
people praying, but also Sylvia and Walt Wallgren, Ann Hudson, and so many of 
you faithful reader friends who constantly lift me up in prayer. Thank you for 
your faithfulness. I pray you enjoy the fruits of partnering with me in this 
writing ministry.
Also, a special thanks to my assistant,
Amber Santiago, for being KAREN KINGSBURY to a everywhere I can't be as I set 
about the business of writing. Please know that your time with Austin and the 
hours you put in making my house livable are an amazing blessing to me. Thank 
you for your servant heart, Amber. I appreciate you more than you know. In the 
writing of this book, I found myself desperately in need of quiet time. When 
that happened, I called up new friends of mine, Louise and Warren, and snuck off 
to their bed-and-breakfast for a few days of solid writing. Thank you for 
providing me with a quiet, phone-free environment in which to work. I am certain 
I'll spend many more hours at your hideaway.
Thanks also goes to those people who read galley proofs for me: Melinda Chapman,
Joan Westphal, Kathy Santschi, and the Wallgrens. Your expert eyes have helped 
me turn out a novel I can smile about. Thank you! On a business note, I'd like 
to thank Ami McConnell, Debbie Wickwire, and the good folks at Will Publishing 
Group for their commitment to excellence in women's fiction. I had the privilege 
of working with my favorite editor, Karen Ball, in the course of this book. It 
was a difficult season for Karen, as she lost her dear mother, Paula Sapp, days 
before editing my manuscript. Karen, I ache with you at your loss and believe 
along with you that your mother is finally free. That even now she watches over 
you, praying for you, longing for the reunion that will take place one far-off 
day. Thank you for being willing to work with me even amid a season of 
heartache. It is my belief that God teams writers up with agents for a good 
reason. As such, I am eternally grateful that the Lord brought Greg Johnson into 
my life. Greg is an author's dream-come-true agent, looking out for every aspect 
of my writing career. If you're reading this book, you can thank God for Greg's 
role in my life. I couldn't do this without him. Also a special thanks to Kirk 
DouPonce of UttleyDouPonce Designworks. Kirk and his amazing team of artists are 
quite simply the best cover designers in the business. If I had my way, every 
book I ever write would have their artwork gracing the front. Thank you for 
pulling off another amazing cover! You're the very best. 313
1. Was the love between Abby and John stronger or weaker in light of the fact 
that they had so recently changed their minds about getting divorced? Explain.
2. Describe a time when you had a falling-out with someone you love. Was the 
love between you stronger or weaker afterward? Why? 3. Trust takes time to build 
again, especially in a relationship that has fallen victim to betrayal. How did 
this truth present itself in Abby and John's relationship?
4. Has trust ever been an issue between you and someone you love? Describe that 
situation.
5. How were you able to finally trust that person again? 6. The Reynoldses' son 
was involved in
Internet pornography. What are your thoughts on whether this form of sexual sin 
is addictive? What examples from the book do you think would help in breaking 
that addiction for you or someone you love? 7. What role did Abby play in the 
family drama after John's injury? Why was this damaging to her? 8. Describe a 
time when you felt you had to fix everyone's problems. KAREN KINGSBURY More How 
did this make you feel? How were you able to move past that season? 9. John's 
emotions varied quite a bit in the days after his injury. What event finally 
changed his attitude for the better? Why? 10. Nicole experienced a blow to her 
faith after her father was paralyzed. Why do you think this was? What finally 
helped her come back to a place of believing? 11. Have you ever suffered through 
a time that tore at your faith? What made believing in God so difficult during 
that time? How did you work through that time? 12. Jake's reaction to his role 
in Coach Reynolds's injury was one of horrendous guilt. What were Jake's 
feelings regarding his possible punishment? How did he grow during this season 
of sorrow and guilt? 13. Describe a time when you did something for which you 
couldn't forgive yourself. What brought about those feelings? How were you able 
to get past them and finally heal? 14. What were some of the ways the love 
between Abby and John grew during his wheelchair days? Describe your favorite 
moment between these two. Why was it special? 15. Love is not always easy. 
Describe a time when you were able to share love with someone through a 
difficult time. How did it strengthen your relationship? What did you learn in 
the process? 315