Abby’s eyes brightened. “Really? Well. Poppy got what he wanted after all. In every way.”

We finished breakfast and cleared the dishes. Abby headed upstairs to get cleaned up. She paused halfway up and looked down at me. “Creighton, I’d like to go see Sabin. Can we arrange that?”

I nodded. “I’ll tap him.”

Midmorning I walked into the living room. Abby was lying on the couch, reading her Bible. I sat on the far end and ran my fingers over her feet.

“That feels good.” She kept reading.

“Don’t you ever get tired of reading the Bible?”

She laughed a little, looking up at me. “No. God speaks to me through it.”

“But how many times have you read the same words?”

She closed the Bible. “Many. But now they have a different message for me. I don’t see a list of things I have to work to do. I see a list of all the amazing things he will do living through me. It’s such a radical shift, but it’s so obvious to me now. I don’t know how I missed it.”

“But all along you’ve been asking God to help you, to be a part of everything you’ve done here, haven’t you?”

“Of course. But the burden was still on me. I had to perform well enough for God. I had to keep his commands. I had to be a good Christian.” She shook her head. “No one can live up to that. Jesus doesn’t want to help me. He wants to live through me. So when I’m sharing the gospel or testifying before Congress or”—she smiled—“forgiving you, it’s Jesus in me doing those things.”

I did a quick scan of the New Testament. “Is that what Paul meant when he said, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me?’”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes. Exactly. ‘And the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself up for me.’ Galatians 2:20.”

I could find the verses. But she had learned to live them out.

I started rubbing her toes.

She giggled. “That tickles.”

“So…if Christ is doing it, what do you do exactly?”

She thought for a moment. “I depend on him. I stay attentive to him. Listen to the Spirit, follow his lead. I just enjoy God.” She cocked her head slightly. “Creighton, you seem more interested in this than ever.”

I nodded. “Maybe we’re more intrigued by whatever is unavailable to us. Maybe…” I hesitated. “Maybe if I had connected myself to God, I wouldn’t have to ask about it.”

She took my hand in hers. “That may be. But, Creighton, you did what you thought you had to do.”

We looked at each other silently, knowingly.

“Will you help me with something today?” she asked.

“Sure. What?”