In the car Sunday morning Jules held her Bible in her lap. She thumbed distractedly through its pages. She sighed.
"Jules?"
"Yes, Grandad?"
"Is something wrong?"
"No, not really. I'm just-I haven't seen anyone here for nearly three years, and I'm such and awkward person."
Duncan chuckled. "Dear, you've seen Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy. And Martin, too. I'm sure you'll be just fine."
She pulled her curly hair away from her face and pinned it securely. "But there will be so many new members. I've never been good at meeting new people."

I look unto the heavens,
And, God, I wonder why?
Why, if you’re so holy, did you make a girl like me?

I can’t imagine why, oh LORD,
Why am I in your plan?
Why, a simple, sinful girl, with faults so plain to see?

In Your Word you tell the truth--
A truth that never dies;
Yet truth that seems to contradict myself, LORD can it be?

You tell me that I’m chosen,
That for me you have a job,
That you can use this broken girl, if only I agree.