A Moment of Weakness
WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT KAREN KINGSBURY’S BOOKS
“The stories are fiction; their impact is real.”
—Debbie L.R.
“Karen Kingsbury is changing the world—one reader at a time.”
—Lauren W.
“I have read many of Karen’s books, and I cry with every one. I feel like I actually know the people in the story, and my heart goes out to all of them when something happens!”
—Kathy N.
“Whenever I pick up a new KK book, two things are consistent: tissues and finishing the whole book in one day.”
—Nel L.
“The best author in the country.”
—Mary H.
“Karen’s books remind me that God is real. I need that reminder.”
—Carrie F.
“Every time I read one of Karen’s books I think, ‘It’s the best one yet.’ Then the next one comes out and I think, ‘No, this is the best one.’ ”
—April B. M.
“Novels are mini-vacations, and Karen’s are my favorite destination.”
—Rachel S.
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To Donald:
Well . . . we are into our second year as empty-nesters. I never liked that term. And I can tell you now with all my heart that there’s been nothing empty about our lives. It’s been full of beautiful walks and meaningful talks, nights when we randomly jump into the car and spend an evening with Kelsey and Kyle and little Hudson. We play tennis and Ping-Pong and hang out with friends. And yes, we miss having our family all together every day. But when they come home the celebrating never ends. Yes, I’ve loved raising our kids with you, but now I love this season, too. God has brought us through so many pages in our story. The Baxter family came to life while we were raising our kids. When they told stories around the family dinner table, we were doing the same. And when their kids auditioned for Christian theater, our kids were singing the same songs. Our family is—and always will be—inexorably linked with the Baxters. Thank you for creating a world where our love and life and family and faith were so beautiful that I could do nothing but write about it. So that some far-off day when we’re old and the voices of our many grandchildren fill the house, we can pull out books like this one and remember. Every single beautiful moment. I love you.
To Kyle:
You will always be the young man we prayed for, the one we believed God for when it came to our precious only daughter. You love Kelsey so well, Kyle. And you are such a great daddy to Hudson. You are a man of God and talented in so many ways. Thank you for bringing us so much joy. We pray that all the world will one day be changed for the better because of your music, your books, your love, and your life.
To Kelsey:
What an amazing season this has been, watching as you became the best mommy ever through all the firsts of Hudson’s life. Little Hudson is such a happy two-year-old, such a miracle. His laughter rings in my heart always. What a beautiful time for us all! Hudson is strong and kind and joyful, with a depth that defies his age. God is going to use him in powerful ways. And God will continue to use you, also, Kelsey. You and Kyle and Hudson—and whatever other kids God might bring your way. Your family is a very bright light in this world . . . and I know that one day this generation will look to you all as an example of how to love well. I treasure our time together. Every moment is another best day. Love you with all my heart, honey.
To Tyler:
Watching you take wing this past year has been another of life’s great joys. Long ago when I imagined you graduating from college and moving out on your own, I thought it would be with tears and sadness. The quiet in the front room where once the sound of you playing the piano filled our nights. The empty space where you once made your bedroom. But last year caught me by surprise. I was simply too happy for you to find time to be sad. You shine so brightly for Jesus—your songwriting, your singing, your screenwriting, your novel writing. The amazing group of godly friends the Lord has surrounded you with. All of it is wonderful! God has great things ahead, and as always I am most thankful for this front-row seat. Oh, and I’m also thankful for the occasional night when you stop by for dinner and a few songs on the piano. You are a very great blessing, Ty. Love you always.
To Sean:
I’m so glad you’re doing so well at Liberty University, working on your degree and growing in faith and strength as a man. You have come so far, Sean. Your dad and I are so proud of you! From the first day we held you, we knew your spirit was bright and that you were born with a beautiful kindness. You love God and people with a passion and joy that survived your first five years in Haiti. And you continue to use the heartache of those early days to lead people to Christ. Keep talking to us about your hopes and dreams. Keep asking us about romance. We are here for you always! I am convinced God has amazing plans ahead for you, Son. I love you forever.
To Josh:
Just yesterday you were that little six-year-old boy, staring up at me with those beautiful brown eyes, saying, “Hi, Mommy. I love you.” How the years have flown since then. Now you’re married and living in Florida with Makayla, the girl we have prayed for all these years. You’re grown up and on your own! Always remember that having a relationship with Jesus is the most important gift you will ever give your family. You belong to Him, Josh. You always have. As you lead your family in the years to come, as you walk out your faith together, just know how much we love you. We believe in you. We are here for you always!
To EJ:
What a tremendous time this is for you, EJ. You are doing so well at Liberty University, so excited about the career in filmmaking you have chosen. I love how God knew—even all those years ago when you first entered our family—that you would need to be with people who loved Him and who loved each other . . . but also people who loved the power of storytelling. I’m so excited about the future, and the ways God will use your gifts to intersect with the gifts of so many others in our family. Maybe we should start our own studio—making movies that will change the world for God. I love it! And I love you—always.
To Austin:
I knew you would blossom at Liberty University, and so you have. God has been faithful, speaking to you about your future, opening doors to your dreams. You are a leader and an example to your peers, and I am so proud of you. I’m grateful I can see you boys when I travel to Liberty University to teach, so many happy times together. So many beautiful breaks and special family times. But even as you are midway through your second year of college, I still miss you in the everydayness, Austin. You are still such a light in our home, our miracle boy. Our overcomer. You are my youngest, and no question the hardest one to let go. The quiet here is so . . . quiet. Even with your dad’s jokes and little Hudson’s visits. So . . . while you’re at Liberty, on still nights when you lie awake in your dorm, just know that we have cherished every moment of raising you. And we are still here. We always will be. Keep putting God first, and keep following the path He has for you. Love you forever, Aus.
And to God Almighty, the Author of Life,
who has—for now—blessed me with these.
Those who stand for nothing . . . fall for anything.
—Alexander Hamilton
1
Wendell Quinn w
alked into his office that September morning with a plan. But he also had a problem.
Well, truth be told, he had a bushel of problems.
As principal of Hamilton High School, situated between Haughville and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, on the rough side of the city, Wendell’s students were routinely killed in gang violence and regularly locked up for dealing drugs. They traded their futures for grand theft auto or attempted murder or a life of skipping school, and too many of them were left with the dead-end futures their choices created.
Test scores and graduation rates lay drowning in the gutter, respect for teachers was at an all-time low, teen pregnancy was epidemic and suicide was on the rise.
Wendell had tried every means possible to change the situation at Hamilton High.
Because of his efforts, the school used a positive incentive program, rewarding good behavior and high grades with exemption from final exams. Local businesses had donated goods and discount coupons for students on the honor roll.
He’d gotten creative with discipline, too.
Wendell had doubled suspensions and expulsions for bad behavior. Teachers used a demerit system to deter students causing the most trouble. On top of that, his team of guidance counselors had brought in a number of guest speakers.
In recent years they’d heard from a mother who lost two sons to gang violence, a college girl whose sibling was behind bars for dealing drugs, and a trio of convicts who shared stories intended to wake up the kids at Hamilton High.
If any of that worked, Wendell hadn’t seen proof. Every measurable means of analyzing Hamilton and its students showed just one thing: The school was getting worse.
And Wendell Quinn was sick of it.
He set his worn black leather briefcase on his desk and opened it. On top was a presentation folder graced by a cover sheet that read: “In This Moment.” It was a look inside Wendell’s heart: his reasons and research behind his most risky decision yet. The decision that later today Wendell would launch a Bible study program right here at Hamilton. All of it was detailed inside the folder, the result of an entire summer of reading legal documents on the topic.
Reading and prayer.
A knock at his door and Wendell turned to see the one face that caused his heart to soar. Alicia Harris, Hamilton High’s favorite teacher. His favorite, too. Wendell and Alicia had been friends for several years—since the car accident that took Wendell’s wife. But in the past few months his friendship with Alicia had grown into a dating relationship.
Wendell admired everything about her. The way she loved his children, her concern for her students. Her gift of inspiring students—something that couldn’t be taught in college. But there was a tragic secret about Alicia that the rest of the school didn’t know.
She was battling an anxiety disorder.
Not just a struggle with being anxious. Alicia was in a debilitating fight with panic attacks like nothing Wendell had ever seen. Since they’d gotten closer, Alicia had opened up about her episodes. She was a Christian with a strong faith. But on some days she considered it a miracle that she could leave her house at all. And once in a while she couldn’t even do that.
Alicia and Wendell had discussed his new program. If there was one person at Hamilton High who would struggle with what was coming, it was Alicia. Which just about killed Wendell. But he had made his decision. He could pray for her and be there for her. But he couldn’t let her anxiety stop him from helping the students at Hamilton High.
He gave her a weak smile and met her at his office door. “Alicia. Come in.”
She closed the door behind her and turned to him. Her expression was tight, the fear in her pretty eyes tangible. She’d been this way since Wendell brought up the idea of the Bible study, and now Alicia seemed to almost hold her breath. “I feel sick.”
“Hey . . .” Wendell reached for her hand. Her fingers were freezing. This wasn’t the time or place for a hug, so he looked deep into her eyes. “God’s got this.”
Now that they were seeing each other, the two were careful to keep things professional when they were at school. Dating wasn’t forbidden among the staff at Hamilton High. But they had no intention of flaunting their new relationship. A case could be made for conflict of interest.
Wendell released her hand. “This is my decision. My plan.” He searched her eyes. The eyes he had come to love. “It doesn’t have to affect you.”
If Wendell could’ve found someone else to run the program, he would’ve. He had certainly tried. But the few students he was comfortable asking had been unable to help. Even his own son, whose faith was rock solid, hadn’t felt confident leading the group. He’d asked a few of the teachers, the ones he was sure shared his beliefs. But all of them said some version of the same thing.
They couldn’t afford to jeopardize their jobs over a program that, in their minds, clearly violated the Constitution’s separation of church and state rule. Wendell disagreed about that much. Still, he couldn’t do more than ask his staff and students—otherwise he would be at risk of an actual violation. So he was on his own. After a summer of research, he was certain a voluntary faith program that met after school was legal.
Even if he facilitated it.
It was this personal conviction, one he’d lived with, that in the end gave him the courage to move forward: Here and now at Hamilton High, Wendell was the only one who could step forward. The only one who could make a difference.
In this moment.
Wendell’s tone was gentle. “You’re not saying anything.”
“I’m sorry.” Alicia trembled and her teeth chattered. “I’m just . . . I’m so scared.” She looked around, like she was searching for some way out of the situation. “Everything’s about to change. It’s the first day of school and I have no idea how I’m supposed to teach.”
Wendell studied her. “All because you don’t agree with my plan?” He hesitated. “That’s it?”
Alicia looked at the folder on his desk. She was the picture of professionalism, neat black skirt and white blouse, new heels. Her black hair straightened just the way she liked it. She seemed to attempt a smile, but it became a slight nod. “I mean . . . I know the students need help. They need something . . . someone.” She was clearly frustrated. “But you’re the principal. Why does it have to be you?” Anxiety darkened her beautiful wide green eyes. So much anxiety. “You could be fired, Wendell. You know that. And . . . I guess I’m afraid if I stand by you . . . I’ll be fired, too.”
“We have rights. Freedom of religion, Alicia. It’s a voluntary program.” Calm, he told himself. Stay calm. “They won’t fire us.”
“They could.” Her answer was quick. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“I don’t, either.” He had to be honest with her. “But I trust God. This is what He wants. I’m convinced.”
For a long moment they were quiet. Then she drew a sharp breath. “I have class.” A pause and she looked deep into his eyes again. “I’ll be praying.”
“Me, too.” He opened the door and they stood together, staring at the words everyone saw when they entered Hamilton High School. The quote painted on the school wall, the one that had started this whole thing last May, the day school let out for the summer.
Those who stand for nothing . . . fall for anything—Alexander Hamilton.
Hamilton had spoken those words hundreds of years ago, when he was the first U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, and one of America’s founding fathers. The quote was emblazoned on the hallway in letters fourteen inches high. Wendell read the lines silently, the way he read them every day when he arrived at school.
Alicia angled her head, her eyes fixed on the quote. “Alexander Hamilton was a Christian.” She turned and gave Wendell a softer look. “I know . . . he’d be cheering you on today.”
“Maybe God will give him a front-row seat today.”
“Maybe.” Alicia hesitated for a long few seconds. “See ya, Wendell.” Her smile felt genui
ne. But the fear was still there. The one that would certainly remain an hour from now, when Wendell’s very risky plan would become a reality.
She gave him a final look and then turned and walked down the hall toward her classroom. First period was at eight o’clock. The assembly was at nine.
Wendell took the seat behind his desk and looked at the folder. He couldn’t blame Alicia. She had to take care of herself. Still, her pulling away from him was the most difficult part of his decision to run the Bible study.
He ran his hand over the folder. He hadn’t prepared the material inside for anyone but himself. He wanted his research all in one place. The reasons he felt justified in starting his voluntary Bible study program.
Just in case he needed to defend himself at some point.
The information was something to fall back on when that time came. And Wendell had no doubt it would. One way or another he would pay for what he was about to do. And if he paid, his four kids would pay. Alicia, too. At least she thought so.
He studied his family’s photo on his desk. His kids were the joy of his life, a constant reminder of God’s goodness. Jordy was seventeen, a junior, and Leah was a fourteen-year-old freshman who played trumpet in the school’s marching band. Alexandria was twelve and in her seventh-grade theater club, and Darrell, the youngest, was ten.
The light in their faces, the love between them warmed Wendell’s heart on the coldest of Indianapolis days. He looked at his kids one at a time. Each of them carried a part of Joanna, their mother. Jordy had her kind eyes . . . Leah, her pretty smile. Alexandria had Joanna’s laugh, and Darrell, her sense of adventure.
A ripple of concern tightened around his chest. Yes, they would likely all pay for what he was about to do. Wendell could be fired. People would mock his children for having a father who dared bring God into a public school. Wendell had come across a three-year-old case where a local social services agency attempted to remove children from the home of a public educator who taught an after-school Bible study.