When Lightning Strikes Page 10

  It was God, clear as day, answering my question with a little flash that meant, "Yes."

  "See?" Patrick said with a wide-eyed expression.

  Epilogue

  Patrick and I told that lightning story to a couple on the plane on the way back to Amsterdam, and they became Christians because of it. We weren't trying to convince them of anything—we just told the story for what it was, and one thing led to another, and the next thing you know, they believed.

  We've been together for three years now. We've told the story at least twenty other times, and that hasn't happened since, but it did happen, and it was really cool to witness.

  Witness. It was a word I honestly didn't think applied to me. As a witness, I was reluctant at best. In fact, there was probably never a more reluctant witness than me. But God used me, and all I had to do was be slightly willing to follow his lead—take a tiny little stand.

  Sometimes I think about what would have happened if Patrick hadn't believed. I knew things wouldn't have worked out between us if that were the case, and I was so thankful it hadn't turned out that way.

  I ended up taking three weeks off to go back to Amsterdam with Patrick. I was ready to quit completely if the three weeks would be an issue, but my school was willing to work with me.

  I finished out that school year, but I haven’t worked since. For the past two years, I've been devoting my professional time to research and writing, which is something I can obviously do anywhere.

  Patrick and I got married right away. It was late September when we came back from Amsterdam that first time, and we were married in a small ceremony that December.

  A long engagement wasn't even an option. We knew beyond the shadow of a doubt (confirmed by lightning) that we were supposed to be together and neither of us saw the sense in delaying things—especially since we were waiting for marriage to partake in husband-wife relations.

  I'd been to eight different countries, and pinched myself every day that God had given me my dream guy as a tour guide.

  And you know what?

  I know my life's not for everyone. I know not every Christian girl prays for a tall, dark, and dangerous tattoo artist for a husband. Maybe some Christians would even think he's wrong for continuing that career path, and I'm wrong for supporting him in it. But it is what it is. We are imperfect human beings who fail constantly and God still loves and is willing to use us in spite of it.

  Patrick is in a unique position to show God's love to a group of people who might not have much exposure otherwise, and it's been cool to see God use him in the hip, subtle way He'd use a famous tattoo artist.

  Right at this moment, however, Patrick and I were being used as babysitters for my nephews.

  "Uncle Patrick said we could take a chance at that grabber game when we go to the movies," Jude said to his dad. He was 7 now, and still liked to curl up with Patrick any chance he got. I had no doubt he'd insist on sitting next to him at the movie theater.

  Patrick and I were in Victoria because Kyle's wife had just given birth to their third son. This one was a surprise, and my brother was feeling overwhelmed by the thought of bringing home a newborn.

  "Uncle Patrick can let you take two chances at the grabber if he wants," Kyle said.

  "And Dad, we're gonna eat Sour Patch Kids at the movies too."

  "Not too many," my mom interjected. "They'll probably split a pack."

  "Uncle Patrick can give you all the candy he wants because he's the one sleeping with you."

  "Are you and Mimi sleeping over?" Justin asked, looking at Patrick hopefully.

  "Yeah, we're staying the night so we can go see your new brother in the morning on the way out."

  "Yessss!" Jude said.

  "My new baby brother's name is James."

  "I know," I said smiling at him. "He's gonna be about eight months older than his baby cousin."

  My mom, dad, and brother were standing around my mom's kitchen when I said it, but nobody besides Patrick really understood—at least not for the first few seconds.

  "What are you saying?" was the first thing that was said after several long seconds silence, and it was my mom who said it.

  "Who's his baby cousin?" Jude asked. "Me?"

  "You're his brother!" Justin said, elbowing him.

  "Who's his baby cousin?" my dad said, leveling me with a stare.

  My face broke into a grin and my mom instantly let out a squeal. "Ahhh, are you having a baby?" she asked. She immediately started crossing the room with her arms outstretched, and I nodded as she came in for the hug.

  I heard my dad and brothers begin saying a few things to Patrick about knowing it was coming, but it all sort of blurred together in a frenzy of hugs.

  My mom cried and everyone else congratulated us.

  "What's his name?" Jude asked.

  "We don't know if it's a boy or girl yet, but we like the name Henry if it's a boy. Hank for short."

  "What about if it's a girl?" Kyle asked.

  "We're not sure, but we like Kells."

  "Isn't that your friend who's been going to church with you?"

  "Yeah, that's her. She's actually marrying another one of our friends named Stewart. They're really happy and cute together. We love her and everything, but the name thing isn't really that sentimental. We just happen to like the name. And those are just the one's we've mentioned. We still have eight months to think about it, and I'm sure we'll change our minds a thousand times."

  "I like Kyle," my brother said.

  "I like Alan," my dad said.

  "Joan's nice if it's a little girl," my mom added. The boys looked around wondering if they should say their own names.

  "Do you like Justin and Jude?" Patrick asked them.

  They both nodded, and we all laughed.

  We didn't end up going with Hank or Kells. In fact, we changed our minds about ten times over the course of the pregnancy. We learned by ultrasound that our baby was a girl, and we thought we'd decided on her name by the time I went into labor, but through last-minute coincidences, which included hearing a random, perfectly timed song on the way to the hospital, we named her Liza Jane Mallory. It suited her to a T.

  My heart was full, and I thanked God continually for my perfect little imperfect family.

  The End

  Thank you for reading When Lightning Strikes!

  Other titles available by Brooke:

  Another Shot: A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story

  Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)

  Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)

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