Devoted Read Free

ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.’”
    I remember after that sermon how she stood up and calmly walked out.
    She was like a grenade that had sat quietly for years and then, suddenly, exploded. But Lauren Sullivan didn’t go to Journey of Faith.
    She disappeared before anyone could make her.

 
    2
    In a family with ten kids, bedtime is nothing short of total chaos. We do it every night, so I think we should be a lot better at it than we are. But we’re not. Trying to get all those bodies cleaned up, dressed in pajamas, and tucked into bed requires a formula I haven’t perfected yet, try as I might.
    Of course, Faith doesn’t live with us anymore and my three older brothers—Matthew, Andrew, and David—can take care of themselves, but Ruth and I are responsible for Sarah, the twins Jeremiah and Gabriel, and Isaac. That’s eight hands, eight feet, four faces, and four sets of baby teeth.
    â€œSarah, stand still, so I can get your molars,” Ruth says, trying to manipulate Sarah’s green and white toothbrush into our little sister’s mouth. I’m sitting on the edge of the bathtub trying to wipe down Isaac’s face and hands. Ruth is better at all of this than I was when I was her age. When I was thirteen and supposed to be helping at bedtime, my mom and Faith sometimes found me flipping through the encyclopedia or drawing pictures to go along with the stories I had written during school lessons. Faith would reprimand me and remind me I was supposed to be practicing to be a good helpmeet, and I’d guiltily shove my books and papers aside and start whatever task I was supposed to be doing. I’m grateful Ruth is so motivated to please others and to do what’s right. I wouldn’t have the heart to correct her if she misbehaved.
    We lead the little ones downstairs to the family room where Dad is reading a devotional guide. He smiles as we walk in and find our places around the room for our nightly Bible study. Isaac snuggles into his place in our mother’s lap. Not for long, I think to myself, picturing the new baby on its way.
    â€œMy children,” Dad begins, taking his well-worn Bible in his hands and flipping through the onionskin pages, “I was thinking of a verse from Proverbs tonight that I wanted to share with you.” His finger expertly traces the columns until he finds the verse he’s looking for. “Here it is. Chapter 13, verse 20. ‘He that walketh with wise men shall be wise, but a companion of fools shall be destroyed.’”
    All of us nod, and my father asks if we know what the words might mean.
    â€œThat if we allow ourselves to be caught up in a God-hating culture with those who don’t follow Christ, we will make poor choices,” my older brother David answers immediately. “Choices that don’t honor the Lord.”
    My father offers us a brief smile. “Yes,” he says. “That doesn’t mean that Father God doesn’t want us to pray for those who are lost and who’ve strayed, but we must be careful not to be led from Christ. We must choose our company carefully.”
    I know the reason he’s chosen this verse. I’m only curious if he’ll mention her name.
    â€œEarlier today Paul and Faith brought up a former member of our church family who has moved back to town,” my father continues. “Lauren Sullivan. Some of you may be old enough to remember her.” Little Sarah is sitting in my lap, and I’ve buried my nose into her still damp, freshly shampooed hair. But when Dad mentions those of us who might remember Lauren, I glance at him. His steady gaze is on me. Maybe it’s because I’m around the same age Lauren was when she left, but his eyes make me feel like he can somehow read my mind from earlier in the day, when I thought unkindly about Paul and didn’t trust in God’s future plan for