Had Mr. Pearce installed the toy or was it already here when they bought the farm? Bought the farm. James grunted at his choice of words and the tragic, but apropos, accidental play on words.

He shook inconsequential thoughts from his head and made his way through the snow back to what once was a house. He ran a finger along the charred edge of cinderblock as he walked the perimeter of the house hoping to find a shard of evidence that would exonerate Travis. He reached down and moved a fallen and fragile tree limb, and found something poking out of the snow.

A book. He reached down and plucked it from the ground, dusted snowflakes from the cover. The white leather was soiled from dirt and soot, but surprisingly, only the edges of the cover were charred beyond repair. Gold gilt letters proclaimed the book a Holy Bible.

His heart jolted.

Carefully pulling back the cover, James revealed onionskin paper, untouched completely by the fire. Yet, he’d found it at the foundation of the house. Even the cinderblock had burned. But not God’s Word.

Therefore, we who are receiving the unshakable kingdom should have gratitude, with which we should offer worship pleasing to God in reverence and awe. For our God is a consuming fire. The words from Hebrews chapter twelve struck him. God is a consuming fire, His kingdom, unshakeable, even in the midst of human fire—which cannot destroy He Who is an all-consuming fire.

Or His everlasting Word. Offer worship…in reverence and awe. When was the last time James had offered reverence? Awe? He’d offered obedience, he’d offered time—even money—but how long had it been since he’d truly allowed himself to be awed by the wonder and beauty of God? For that matter, when had he offered even the slightest gratitude for the gifts God had given him—not just the thanks be to God lip service, but the thought-out, humble, thank You for my athletic successes, family and friends, a vocation to preach, and the congregation to hear the words preached.

Or for his father, who had worked long hours all his life to provide a home for James and Mary, even if the man wasn’t loving, forgiving, or understanding.

When had he traded that goodness for a mud puddle of self-pity and doubt?

About the same time you stopped hearing My Voice.

James staggered back at the revelation, almost losing his grip on the Bible.

Was it possible it wasn’t that God had stopped talking, but rather that James had stopped listening? His heart jolted again. Shock colored his thoughts now.

Well, from here out, no more self-pity. No more whining. He was going to prove Travis’s innocence and then forge ahead with his own life, no matter where that journey might lead. OK, God? he asked tentatively as he stood in snow that had just begun to fall steadily. A slight breeze whistled through the expanse of space. James held his breath. OK, God? he asked again, trying to make his inner voice sound firmer.