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that Jesus will be with us through the trials of life, and the blessed assurance of our eternal future with God? It gets to me every time.”
    He paused and closed his eyes for a brief moment before he opened them to make piercing eye contact. “We’re going to continue with our concert in a moment, but first I want to give you each an opportunity to respond to the Holy Spirit if He’s knocking on your heart’s door.”
    He looked up and down the rows, engaging as many as he could. “Maybe you’re hearing this for the first time and you’d like to know more, or maybe you’ve wandered away from the God you knew in your youth. Whatever your circumstances, if you’re touched by what you’veheard tonight and you’d like to pray about what you’ve heard, stand to your feet and come forward.”
    Pete waited. “I want you to come to the front of this stage where you’ll be met by one of our prayer counselors.” Teenagers streamed into the aisles of the dark auditorium.
    Amber’s feet rooted her in position. She wanted to respond—needed to respond—but she couldn’t move. She watched as people went forward for prayer. A magnificent sight. She knew they felt changed. She wanted that experience, too, but she stood paralyzed. Praying by herself worked just as well, right? Then why didn’t it feel just as good?
    As quickly as the opportunity presented itself, it ended. The concert resumed with an upbeat rock song Amber recognized from the Christian radio station. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and tried to get into the concert again. After the song ended, she finally dared to look at Brittany, who stared back at her, searching with her eyes. How long had she been watching?
    Amber just smiled. What else could she do?
    Brittany returned the smile, but she couldn’t mask the hint of disappointment in her expression.
    She’ll see. I’ll find my way back on my own. She’ll see
.

    Sandpaper in her throat, a hammer pounding on her head, Amber drew the covers tight around her shivering body. Was there a window open? The room felt like a freezer. She tried to roll over, but every muscle in her body ached. Even her toes screamed their soreness. She opened one eye to peer at the clock. Five minutes until the alarm went off. She pulled the covers over her head and willed herself to feel better.
    For every second of those five minutes, she didn’t move a muscle, but then the alarm went off and she had to reach out from the covers to hit the snooze button. That tiny movement exposed her body to the cool air and sent her into another fit of trembling. Her shoulder ached from the reach, and her fingertips tingled when she touched the clock. She needed medicine, but it was so far away.
    Amber stumbled to the bathroom and fumbled through the cabinet. Feeling weak, she leaned against the counter and reached for the Tylenol, knocking over a few other bottles. Just then, Mom came around the corner and saw her.
    “What on earth is wrong with you? You look horrible!” She hurried to Amber’s side and felt her forehead. “Sweetie, you’re burning up. Go on. Climb in bed, and I’ll bring you some water.”
    “No way, Mom. I have to go to school.” She stood up straighter, preparing herself for battle.
    Understanding dawned on her mom’s face. “Oh no. You’re not going to school like this. You need to be in bed—maybe even at the doctor’s office. You’re sick, honey.”
    “Yes. I’ve been sick before, and I’ll be sick again. Mom, you can’t make me give up this contest. Not now. Not after how hard I’ve worked.” Amber sat on the edge of the bathtub, tears burning her feverish eyes. “Besides, Mom, it’s Friday. If I can get through today, then I can sleep all weekend.”
    Mom sighed. “Okay. Make sure you use lots of sanitizer and wash your hands often. You don’t want to start an epidemic. And you have to promise if you get any worse, you’ll call me to come get you. Oh, but your dad will have the