Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [118]
That night, Katy sprawled across the bed from Megan while they looked at color brochures of the Bangladesh mission project.
“Tell me about it. Everything.” Anything to get her mind off herself.
“I’ll be going through SEND Ministries. An acronym for Service, Evangelism, Nurture, and Discipleship. The trip is June 25 through July 11.”
“That’s not so long. I thought you were going to be gone all summer?”
Megan raised a blond eyebrow. “Then you haven’t been listening.”
Katy frowned. Had she tuned Megan out? “I’m sorry. I’m listening now.”
“Forgiven. So far there’s four of us going. They take up to eight. We’ll be involved in English Bible camps doing manuscript studies, worshiping, learning activities, and maybe some prayer walks.”
“Wow. So you’re not building huts?”
“No.” Megan tilted her head, studying her like she was a foreign specimen, and Katy felt ashamed that somehow she’d distanced herself from her friend, hadn’t been listening to her dreams.
“If this is an English camp, what language do they speak?”
Megan smiled. “Bangla.”
“Of course.” Katy smiled back then tried out the word. “Bangla. Where is it?”
“In Asia, between Burma and India.”
“You’re kidding! I thought you were going to Africa.”
Megan ruffled Katy’s hair. “You’re a mess.” They giggled, and then Megan said dreamily, “I wish you could go with me. You could. They still have four more openings. Will you think about it?”
Katy tried to imagine herself in Asia, teaching English Bible. There was no use even considering it; it wasn’t anything she felt interested in. “No. It’s not for me. Strange as it might sound to you, I’ve never had the desire to be any kind of missionary.”
Megan scrutinized her, and Katy inwardly squirmed. Some people had to carry on with life, working to pay the way for others to go do the mission work or live together in doddy houses. That’s what Katy was. A worker, she rationalized. She enjoyed working. She enjoyed seeing the completion of what she’d done with her own hands. “If I ever went on a mission trip, it would have to be some kind of cleanup. Like after a hurricane or tornado or something.”
Megan waved a slender finger at her. “I’ll remember you said that. With Mennonite Disaster Service, there’s lots of opportunities for cleanup. I’d like to do that myself sometime.”
They lay back on their pillows, silently studying the ceiling, each thinking their own thoughts. Then Katy said, “I wonder how Lil’s doing. I thought maybe she’d call by now.”
“Let’s call her.” Megan closed her brochure and placed it on the nightstand. She pulled out her phone and punched in a speed-dial number. The conversation was short with Megan mostly listening. Katy heard her end with a promise to pray.
“So?” Katy prompted.
“Her mom spent the day in bed, but Lil got her to eat. Lil said tomorrow she’s making a doctor’s appointment for her.” Megan’s expression turned contrite. “She was on the other line with Jake when I called.”
Katy felt as if she’d taken a blow to the stomach. “And?”
Megan shook her head. “She didn’t say anything about him. But she said her old room seems strange, and she misses it here.”
“I miss her, too.” Katy pushed Jake out of her mind and smiled. “Honestly, at first I thought one of us would murder the other one.”
Megan didn’t seem surprised. She teased, “But then your nonresistant teaching brought you to your senses.”
“Maybe. Mostly, I started to understand her. She has a lot of insecurities.”
“I know. If only she could realize how great she is,” Megan replied. Then she sighed. “We all have our insecurities.”
“You?” Katy gently probed.
Megan twisted a long shank of shiny hair and shot Katy a reproachful glance with her blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”
Stretching her arm beneath the coolness of her pillow, Katy yawned, but not from boredom. This conversation intrigued