Chapter One: Under the Stars

Sitting in silence under a starry night never did leave Emma Daniels feeling alone. In actuality, it was one of her favorite past times. Over the years she had found contentment amongst the stars. The hill out behind her house had become her hideaway. She had grown up beneath the low branches of the tall tree that lay on top of her hill. During her childhood, she and her best friend, James, had spent countless nights lying against its cool bark, as they tried to count the bright eyes that looked down upon them. It was here that she first spoke to her true Father: a loving God. This place was her sanctuary.

Emma grew up knowing only three things: God, James, and that her hometown of Greenville was the best place in the world. Faith could be found in every dusty corner of her creaky old house on Third Avenue. Her father after all was the preacher. Some of her fondest memories as a child were walking hand in hand with her mother to church on Sunday mornings and then walking in between her father and mother on their way back. From the time she was four she could recite most of the Old Testament bible stories as well as the twelve apostles. She was the preacher’s daughter and she felt it was her responsibility to know those types of things. Emma loved crouching in front of her father’s study door late at night so she could hear her father practicing a new sermon, or simply praying. The sound of her father’s voice was always so soothing and had been a comfort to her as a child. It wasn’t until later in her life, that those nights would pass and she would no longer hear her Father’s prayers.

For as long as she could remember, James Connelly had always been a part of her life. He had been around before she could even remember. Not only was he her neighbor but also her best friend. It seemed strange to some that two children could form such a bond, but it never crossed either one of their minds. To them it was as natural as a rain in spring. When Emma was scared of a thunderstorm James would tell her a joke he had heard and make her laugh away her tears. When James was afraid that his father would never come back, Emma brought up his broken spirit. When the boys at school made fun of James for having a girl as his best friend it was Emma who defended him, even if it meant a trip to the principals’ office and a rather disappointed look from her father. No matter what the tide brought both were there for each other. They both loved each other in an unexplainable way. It was James that helped Emma through the death of her mother, and her stillborn, baby brother as well. It was Emma that helped James understand that he could still have good life full of love and family even if his father never came back.

The town of Greenville is settled beneath the luscious, green valleys in Virginia. About an hour and a half from the beach, the salty smell of the ocean arrived with the early springs, and the colors of fall brought a number of traveling folk into town. The population was smaller. Emma couldn’t of imagined growing up in a more remarkable place. She loved knowing her neighbors, and every kid in her high school. It felt right walking down the streets in winter when the first snowfall began. Emma had been born and raised in this town, and she knew that her heart would always be most at home here. Emma and James used to grab afternoon snacks at the local diner, where they would ease-drop on the adult conversations occurring. It seemed like everyone wanted or knew something about everyone. Everyone certainly knew her! Being the preacher’s daughter did have its disadvantages. Emma couldn’t swear when she got angry like James did. She always had to be respectful to anyone and everyone because “that is what is expected”. If she got in any trouble what so ever it reflected poorly on her father. Yet, as she got older Emma found new ways to bend the rules, without anyone knowing, much to the help of James. Underneath their tree Emma and James were able to be themselves, and so much more without the feeling of being watched or judged. Underneath that tree it was just James and Emma, two best friends ready for any type of adventure they could find.

Emma was always told that she had a wild imagination. Her grandmother would tell her tales of how she had always told stories from the time she could talk. Her summer days were spent creating storylines and acting out whatever popped into her head. Her hideaway not only became a retreat but also a portal into the realms of her imagination. It was underneath those thick branches that she could be whomever she wanted to be. James would play along of course, for Emma would play baseball and football with him as well. The two of them were knights, Lord and Lady, King and Queen, Warriors, Greek Heroes, and whatever else tickled their fancy. It was a way to escape the expectations of her father and the people within her town. Those expectations are what kept bringing Emma back to her hideaway.

“Abba, Father my spirit is weary. You know my heart, Lord. You have given me these desires. You have placed these passions within me, I pray that you would open my father’s heart to see and hear what he has dismissed. Open his heart Father. He can be—so stubborn! He won’t even listen to me when I try and mention England. He walks away when I talk about the mission field! Why can’t he…why can’t he just understand that--

Careful, my child

Father, I want to do your will. Show me the way and I will follow. If it is to serve you on the frontlines than open his heart to hear me, let him understand how much I yearn to go. You know how much I love him Father, and if it is your will that I go, I do not know if I will have the strength to go with out his blessing.” Emma took a breath not wanting to say what she was about to, but she knew that He might have a different plan entirely. “If you have another path for me than please take away these longings of my heart, show me what you have in store for me and I will follow. You know what is best for me, you always have. Your love never fails. You will not leave nor forsake me. I will trust you, as hard as it may be.”

The air grew colder as Emma looked up at the stars. A chill swept through her, what amazement she found amongst them. Her Father God, who created her, and created all that surrounded her-the tree against her back, the stars dancing above her, the grass tickling her bare feet, was here listening, talking, and comforting her. Here in her hideaway He had found her.

Emma had always known there was a God. She grew up knowing He was out there; she just never thought He would ever care about her. To Emma as a child, God was just a big guy in a robe looming over her. He was just waiting for her to make a mistake so that He could tell her dad and get her in trouble, after all her father always called Him his boss. It wasn’t until three years ago that she felt a tug at her heart that made her question her first understanding. The summer before her freshman year, her Aunt Grace had come into town to stay. Emma’s aunt, was a missionary who worked half the year in the United States trying to promote awareness of her mission, and the other half was spent on location in her different missions, places such as the Philippines, Europe, Russia, and several African nations. Aunt Grace was so full of life and joy. She was always smiling and laughing, unlike her father. She always had a way of making everyone feel comfortable, no matter who was around her. She would light up the darkest of rooms when she walked through the doors. Emma was enthralled with her aunt. She had done everything that she yearned to do. She was a woman Emma desired to be. She had spent half of her life in various countries, exploring and having great adventures. Yet, that was Emma’s impression as a young girl. That summer, she truly understood what it meant to be a missionary. In never clicked to her that her aunt wasn’t exploring new countries and saving the world, she was just talking about God. The more Emma leaned the more frustrated she became, she was upset for being so naïve as to believe that she had a hero in the family. Yet, something began to change as she learned more and more why her aunt longed to share the “truth”, as she said. Something had awakened in Emma that summer. It seemed as if everything was coming together. Something she had never known was broken to begin. She had tried to talk to James about it, but he just never understood. He would listen; he just thought it was a phase.

Emma spent that summer looking back on her life. Her mother and brother’s death, her father’s distance, her childhood camaraderie with James, her mischief, her all consuming fear that it was she who had killed her mother and brother. Emma was afraid. She had never known what a relationship with Christ would be like. She had grown up hearing it, but the emotion rising within her was too much to bear. Her aunt kept speaking of God’s redeeming love, that no matter what she had done He could make her clean. Could she be clean, even if she had killed the people that she loved the most, even if she had a rebellious heart, even if she wanted to run away? Emma had always been good at hiding. To some she seemed like any other pastor’s daughter, but Emma knew different. She wasn’t good; she didn’t do what was right. She spent more time doing things she shouldn’t than in prayer. Yet, Emma was learning that she didn’t have to be perfect or get it all right. She just had to believe that someone else did. She had to believe that the person who was perfect died to save her; and she did! It had been in this very spot, three years ago, that she had her first conversation with her Father. Emma shivered as those emotions came rushing back to her; the pure joy flowing from her heart, the freedom of her soul, the love that she felt encircling her. She felt her Father’s embrace that night, and she could feel Him even now, three years later.

Emma’s life had become so different since then. It seemed that everything changed. She began to feel, see, and act differently. Her rebellion, the need to be different than what was expected from a preacher’s daughter was gone. Her desires changed, her self-inflicted guilt from her mother and brother’s death was healed. Things were not perfect, far from it, but somehow Emma had hope. She had hope that things although they may not be perfect would be all right, because she trusted a God who had it all planned. Emma found comfort in that. She liked the idea that it wasn’t all up to her, although she tried to control most everything. The one change that Emma hadn’t been ready for was, James. She knew he didn’t believe. He listened in church, he was a great guy, who tried to do the right thing, but he didn’t understand the need for faith. To him, God was just a crutch for the weak.

“Father, reveal yourself to him. Let him know you, and see you. He is my best friend, my brother, my…I..I..I cannot bear the thought of him not knowing you. I pray that he would find the love and freedom that I have come to find in knowing you. He needs you. He needs to know that what happened with his father wasn’t his fault, just like my mothers death wasn’t mine. He lives in uncertainty and unbelief. He thinks he knows who you are, but he hasn’t felt what it means to be yours. Lord, let your light and your love shine through me. Use me, Lord to reach him. I love...I love him Lord. He is my best friend.” Emma wiped away the tears that fell silently down her porcelain cheeks. Her heart cried out for James to know her Father. A moment of silence passed as she closed her eyes, and she was simply still. It wasn’t until she heard a familiar rustling of the ground did she open her eyes.

“I thought I might find you up here.” A deep, comforting voice spoke from the darkness.