He studied his family’s photo on his desk. His kids were the joy of his life, a constant reminder of God’s goodness. Jordy was seventeen, a junior, and Leah was a fourteen-year-old freshman who played trumpet in the school’s marching band. Alexandria was twelve and in her seventh-grade theater club, and Darrell, the youngest, was ten.
The light in their faces, the love between them warmed Wendell’s heart on the coldest of Indianapolis days. He looked at his kids one at a time. Each of them carried a part of Joanna, their mother. Jordy had her kind eyes . . . Leah, her pretty smile. Alexandria had Joanna’s laugh, and Darrell, her sense of adventure.
A ripple of concern tightened around his chest. Yes, they would likely all pay for what he was about to do. Wendell could be fired. People would mock his children for having a father who dared bring God into a public school. Wendell had come across a three-year-old case where a local social services agency attempted to remove children from the home of a public educator who taught an after-school Bible study.
As if teaching the Bible at school might make someone like Wendell an unfit parent.
The educator won that case. But things were changing. A growing sector of people were vehemently against anything Christian. If Wendell and his kids suffered, then Alicia believed she would suffer, too. In her mind, the events at Hamilton would be splashed across the news and no public school in the state would ever hire her or Wendell again. Yes, as far as Alicia was concerned, the whole scenario already felt like a reality. A fait accompli, as Hamilton might’ve said back in the day.
Which was why Alicia was already pulling away.
The sad thing was that she was probably right. Any attention on social media meant a tsunami of scrutiny would be on all of them. Every Christian on staff. So the first cost was almost certainly going to be his relationship with the woman he loved. Wendell’s heart already hurt over what was coming. But even so he had to follow through with his plan.
This was what God wanted of him. Wendell was sure. And God would see him through. He sighed. Lord, if only I could help Alicia trust You Really trust.
He thought back to a recent day in mid-July when he’d made his intentions known. He had grilled burgers for her and the kids and they’d spent the day swimming at the neighborhood pool. Back at his house, once the kids were in the other room watching a movie, Alicia had hugged him. The smell of her hair and perfume had filled his senses, and Wendell had known he couldn’t go another day without telling her how he felt.
He sat across from her in the living room that day and searched her eyes. “My kids love you.”
“I love them.” Her smile lit up her face. “I had the best day, Wendell.”
“The kids aren’t the only ones. I love you, too, Alicia.” His heart pounded in his chest. “As more than a friend.” It felt like Wendell’s brokenhearted season since losing Joanna was finally over.
Her eyes sparkled brighter than the sunshine on the pool. “I wondered if you’d ever tell me.”
The two of them laughed and stood and hugged again, and as Wendell walked her to her car that evening, he did what he’d longed to do for months.
He kissed her.
After their beautiful summer together, Wendell had planned to propose. That way they could be a family sooner than later. Which was something his kids wanted. Just a few weeks ago Alicia took Leah and Alexandria back-to-school shopping, and when the three of them came home and the girls modeled their new clothes, it was as if they’d been close to Alicia forever. Jordy and Darrell loved her, too. The boys took bike rides with Alicia and Luvie, their family dog.
But he had done more than spend time with Alicia over the summer.
Driven for some way to help the Hamilton students, Wendell had worked late at night and early in the morning poring over the Federalist Papers, written mostly by Alexander Hamilton. Wendell hadn’t seen the Broadway musical about the man, but he had heard the Hamilton cast recording. A line from one of the songs stayed with Wendell.
I am not throwing away my shot . . . not throwing away my shot.
Because of his research, Wendell had come to admire Alexander Hamilton. The man’s visionary ability to bring people together. His unwavering faith in God. Wendell agreed with the words of George Will, a famous politician.
Will said, “There is an elegant memorial in Washington to Jefferson, but none to Hamilton. However, if you seek Hamilton’s monument, look around. You are living in it. We honor Jefferson, but we live in Hamilton’s country.”
Those quotes were in Wendell’s presentation folder. The details Wendell had learned or read or researched about Hamilton and the U.S. Constitution. The freedoms afforded every American citizen were highlighted in the pages of the folder in front of him. Wendell had also included a number of esteemed studies showing the academic, social and personal benefit of prayer and faith.
In addition, he’d researched his rights. What he was about to do was legal, but he had to be careful. He could alert students to the optional after-school club, but he couldn’t push them to attend. And bottom line, he could be sued, because anyone could be sued for anything.
The question was whether he’d win.
Wendell had a strong sense that he could. Because it wasn’t only the statistics and research on Hamilton and the Constitution that drove him to come up with the plan. It was the Bible, too. The verses in Proverbs and Psalms that spoke about training a child in the way he should go and teaching the next generation the truths of God.
The students at Hamilton High were utterly broken. How could he not share with them the truths of the Bible, the hope of God? For a year, Wendell had felt a holy calling to make this move. That’s why he’d spent so much time this past summer pulling together his research, making certain he wasn’t breaking any law.
Now, with his folder of research before him, Wendell felt ready. He would do this. He had to do it. He was the only one willing to take a stand.
Wendell closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. All summer he’d been telling Alicia about his idea, how he wanted to bring the Bible back to Hamilton High. Six days ago he’d taken her to coffee and explained what his research had netted. How he felt he had the right to do something to help the students.
The bell rang out in the hallway.
Wendell blinked his eyes open but the memory remained. Alicia had nodded, but her breathing was different. Faster, filled with fear. She struggled to speak. “With all my heart . . . I want to stand by you on this, Wendell. I do.” Her breathing was faster still, completely panicked. Each breath came faster and faster, and they had to hurry out of the coffeehouse. Alicia barely made it to her car, and she struggled even to talk. “My heart . . . it’s racing. I . . . I can’t breathe.” She gasped. “I’m dying, Wendell! Help me!”
Wendell could still hear her, still see the terror in her face. He had tried to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say. For the next thirty minutes he held her hand and watched her as—between panicked gasps—she did the only thing she could do. She popped two pills and recited the same Bible verse over and over.
It was from Philippians 4.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Over and over and over again.
It was the first time Wendell had seen Alicia suffer a full-blown panic attack. Before then, she had downplayed her anxiety disorder. But there was no denying it now. And since then he could feel her pulling away a little more each time they talked. He was making her anxiety worse.