Free Courageous by Randy Alcorn Page A

door softly and peered in to see Carmen sitting with Isabel and Marcos, reading a book.
    “Javy, is that you?”
    Isabel and Marcos got up and ran to him. “Papi! Papi!”
    His children hugged his legs. He knelt and embraced them, unmindful of his sweat-drenched shirt.
    “ Cómo están mis niños preciosos? Have you been good for your mother?”
    “Sí, Papá!” Isabel said. “Come tell us a story!”
    “I will, Isabel. Let me get cleaned up and eat. I have a special story to tell you. A true story that happened to your papá . Hoy mismo! ”
    “All right, get ready for bed and give Daddy a chance to eat.”
    Isabel and Marcos ran down the hall toward their room. Javier sat at the kitchen table as Carmen opened the refrigerator and pulled out his dinner.
    “How did the job go?”
    “Terrible . . . then wonderful !”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “I went to that job this morning, and they said they did not need me.”
    Carmen stopped, plate in her hand. “You didn’t get the job? Where have you been all day?”
    “That’s the thing. I was walking home asking God what He wanted me to do. I was hurt and confused. I didn’t understand why God didn’t help me when I try so hard to provide for my family. I asked Him to show Himself. Then, out of nowhere, this guy I had never seen before calls me by name and asks me to help him build a shed.”
    “How could a stranger call you by name?” Carmen asked.
    Instead of answering, Javier reached in his pocket and pulled out a check, then placed it on the table.
    “You made $150 today?”
    “Yes!”
    “I don’t understand. How did he know you? Why would he hire you off the street?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Why didn’t you ask him?”
    “I was scared. At first I thought he might be an angel, but he got angry when he hit his finger with his hammer. Plus, he is married and has children. I think this is not like angels.”
    “Are you going back tomorrow?”
    “Eight o’clock. He says he wants me to work all week. But I think we can finish in four days.”
    “Four days at $150 a day? Javy, $600?”
    Javier sat quietly, moisture gathering in his eyes. “Carmen, there have only been a few times in my life when I felt like God was helping my faith . . . and today was one of them. It felt so good to work hard, knowing He had answered my prayer.”
    Carmen reached over and took his hand. “I think it is a miracle. But I know God loves you, Javy. He listens to you because you honor Him.”
    Javier bowed his head.
    “And all I want to do right now,” Carmen said, “is to hug you and to kiss you.”
    Javier smiled and moved toward her, but she put up her hand. “But you smell so bad that I can’t bring myself to do it.”
    Javier grinned at Carmen’s revenge for his comment about her breath. He wagged his finger and jumped up. “Give me fifteen minutes! Then I will tell the children my story, and I will see you when I am finished!”
    “I will heat up your dinner, mi amor !”

    The Mitchell family sat at a Mexican restaurant two miles away. Adam, tired and sore, praised Javier’s work. “Javy’s a machine.”
    Victoria smiled. “I can’t believe how much you got done.”
    “The teacher liked my artwork, Daddy,” Emily said, unfolding a piece of paper. “I drew a picture of you and Mommy and Dylan and me and Maggie.”
    Victoria reached for the drawing to get a closer look. Dylan’s eyes never left his plate of nachos.
    “Good for you, Emily,” Adam said. He noticed that in the picture, Maggie was on the couch. His daughter’s campaign to gain Maggie’s entrance to the house was relentless!
    Emily spoke, but Victoria had to lean forward to hear her as the wandering mariachi band drew nearer, complete with trumpet, violin, guitar, bass guitar, and accordion.
    “Can we choose a song for them to sing?” Emily repeated.
    Victoria nodded. “Sure.”
    They performed something called “El Rey,” and Emily said, “Sing another one!”