Rachelle’s eyes flew open and she clutched her throat.
She sat up in bed and wiped sweat from her brow. A single word came to her.
Pray.
She frowned.
Her? Pray? For who? For what?
Jillian.
She struggled to fight off panic. She wanted to get up and run downstairs to the living room, where Aunt Irene lay resting. She would know what to say.
Or maybe Uncle Charles could help her—he was a deacon in the church. She had heard him render some moving prayers from the altar at St. Peter’s Baptist.
What did she know, except the prayers she had recited on occasion as a child?
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep . . .
Then there were the ones she bowed to nearly two decades ago, during her choir days in college. Watching her fellow choir members pray with such passion and faith had been awe-inspiring. She had been curious about what that felt like, but had never sought an answer. Life had been pretty good without extra rules and commandments.
This morning, though, something or someone was summoning her to speak, and for the first time in a long time, she believed it was God. He had put Jillian on her heart and mind, and knowing her friend’s circumstances, she was willing to help however she could.
Rachelle slowly climbed out of Reuben’s bed and knelt against it, on her knees. She bowed her head and cupped her hands in front of her.
“God,” she said in a whisper. “You haven’t heard from me in a long, long time, but I think you just woke me up. For Jillian, my sister-friend. Seems like you and she have a wonderful friendship, and even though you’ll be taking her away from this earth soon, she’s satisfied with the love you’ve shown her. I don’t know where she is in that process or what her needs are this morning, but God, I ask that you grant her the peace and comfort that you are able to provide. Let her still be happy, God, and trusting you to do what’s best. Amen.”
Rachelle remained in that position for several more minutes and let the tears fall. Somehow, she knew God had heard and answered. She felt a calm wash over her that she had never before experienced.
She recalled the prayer she had uttered just weeks earlier, when she lay across the bed in the Hotel Magnolia and begged God to give her a sign that he existed.
In the wee hours of this day, he had, and to her surprise, she welcomed his presence.