Longing For Home by Christine Lynxwiler

Longing For Home by Christine Lynxwiler

Author:Christine Lynxwiler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-06T16:00:00+00:00


Ten

Jake walked out to where the preteens were hard at work washing his truck.

“Hey, guys. How’s it going?” He grabbed a brush and tackled the bug-crusted windshield.

“A lot better,” Melissa assured him.

“Better?”

Michael snorted and waved his soapy sponge. “Yeah. Better since I let her have the water hose.”

Jake grinned. He should have figured they’d both want to spray the water. He remembered arguing with his brothers over the same thing when he was young.

“Melissa, why don’t you use it for ten more minutes then let Michael have it for a while?”

Melissa nodded.

“So, Michael, Brandi tells me you want to play football.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake restrained a grin. The Delaney kids were a neat mixture of old-fashioned manners and modern savvy.

“He’s just doing it so the kids will think he’s cool,” Melissa said, clutching the water hose with both hands and neatly shooting Michael’s sponge off onto the ground.

“I am not—hey! Be careful.” Michael scooped up the sponge and glared at his sister.

“You like football, Michael?” Jake asked, keeping his eyes on the window he was scrubbing.

The boy mumbled a reply.

“What?”

“I said not so much.” He shrugged. “Okay, she’s right.” He narrowed his eyes at Melissa. “But at least I don’t eat worms to be popular.”

“Hey!” Melissa punctuated her exclamation with a blast of water in Michael’s direction, but the stream fell about a foot short. “I was in kindergarten. Give me a break.”

Jake didn’t speak for a few minutes. Surely no one could live very long and think God didn’t have a sense of humor. How was Jake supposed to advise a boy about participating in a sport in order to feel good about himself? When he’d figured out he had a natural talent for baseball, he’d mostly worked hard to pursue it because he wanted to find his own place among his bigger-than-life brothers. By the time he outgrew that motivation he had other, more complicated, ones.

“Going out for a sport is a big commitment.” Jake took Michael’s sponge and directed him to a new section of the truck. “You won’t be able to miss a game or practice, even when you’re working hard on a new invention. Are you sure you’re willing to be there for every practice, every game, day in and day out?”

“I’m pretty sure.” The twelve-year-old scrubbed furiously, but his face clouded with indecision. “I don’t know.”

“Mike, buddy. You’ve got an incredible amount of talent and intelligence.” Jake cleared his throat. Michael was looking up at him as if his words were a lifeline for a drowning man. Melissa had let the water hose aim at the ground and was listening intently, too. “Most important, you have a Father in heaven who made you just the way you are and loves you that way. And so do your family and friends.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “So, whatever you decide about football, you don’t need sports to prove you’re somebody. God’s already done that for you.”

The kids worked in silence for a while. Jake didn’t know if



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