“And that’s the way God works. Not thread by thread, but the entire weaving, His warmth, His Being. And for that, He wants one thing and one thing only—our faith. Our unbroken belief and infinite trust in the journey that He has planned for us. No matter how challenged we may feel, whatever dark shadow we may find ourselves cast under no matter, how rusted the squeaky hinge, He is there for us, fighting that rust that works its way into all our lives, smothering us with his unconditional and everlasting blanket of warmth and comfort.”

He smiled out, and then gave a nod to Pastor Barrow. With one final look back at the crucifix hanging on the wall behind him, James stepped off the altar to take his place among the congregation while Pastor Barrow concluded the Christmas service.

Thanks be to God, he was home. Kipling had had its share of triumph, of love, of pain and loss, but they’d weathered it all because the goodness of one simple man, who was willing to shoulder a burden that wasn’t his, who’d lain down his life in honor of his God. The same God who’d help James see that sometimes, where there is great loss, beauty could come from ashes. He was home, and the rusty hinges of his faith were oiled and shined to reveal the future ahead—a future filled with purpose, with family and with friends.

About the Author

About the Author