I am standing on one of the boating docks, just outside of town, looking at the setting sun. If there ever came a time that I wish I did not have to do anything, this was that time. I know Heather does not want me to go to the army. No one wants that. But this is God's doing. He is the one Who led me to apply, and I asked for confirmation. I got my confirmation, and instead of keeping it a secret from Heather, I had her open the letter.

"Lord," I pray softly, taking a deep breath. "Send Heather Your Comforter, because she needs You right now. Give me the strength I need to do Your will. For it has always been your will, never my own. You are sending me, and I will go. All I ask is that You help Heather and protect her from harm. That is my only request. Thank You for hearing my prayer, amen."

I sigh as relief comes over me, like a cool breeze. I close my eyes, breathing in the salty air. When I open them again, I nod.

"Not my will," I say, "but Your will."

***

My parents' faces are stunned as I finish telling them my news. Sarah has tears in her eyes, and Jacob is speechless.

"Well," my father says with a sigh. "You asked God to confirm it to you, which He has, so there is nothing for me to say. May God be with you, my son."

I nod as my mother comes to hug me, tears in her eyes.

"Don't go getting any girlfriends over there," Jacob jokes half-heartedly, as he comes to embrace me. "I know there is someone nearby, who would like to know you stayed faithful."

"Who?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Bro, I have not made any promises to any girls."

"Daniel," Dad says, standing. "What your brother means to say is that God has made you a partner, and that you should remain faithful,even though you have not met her yet."

I nod, "I know, and I will."

I turn and smile at Sarah, who runs to my hug with tear-streaked cheeks.

"You be sure to come home soon," she whispers, "It won't be the same with you gone."

"I'll be back before you know it . . ." I trail off,thinking of Heather. "Sarah, I need you to do something for me, while I am gone."

"Anything."

"I need you to visit with Heather whenever possible. I visited with her when I was at the pharmacy and I drove her home. She read my acceptance letter, and I do not want her to be left thinking . . ."

"I understand," Sarah says, nodding. "I will visit her often. You know, maybe you should write to her. Each week, send her a letter,and I will bring it to her."

I think over my sister's idea; I did not think of writing Heather. Would she write me back, I wonder.

"Okay," I say, nodding. "I will write to her, you bring her my first letter, and let the letter do the rest. I think she would reply on her own, but she was . . . Heather was heart-broken, and I did not intend that to happen."

"Well," Sarah replies, taking a step back. "You take a big part in her life, and that would probably explain why she reacted that way.Think about it; you are part of her, in many ways. Before you leave, you should see her again. Make amends."

I nod; Sarah is right. I can't leave without making sure Heather knows I meant well. I should probably go see her right now.

"I will be back later," I announce, taking my car keys out of my pocket. "I have some unfinished business to attend. If I am not back after dinner, assume I have already eaten."

After receiving approval, I head out the door and get into my car. Within five minutes, I am back in front of Heather's house. I hesitate at the front door. My mind starts to go to the possibility that she will not open the door, but something tells me I should stick to what Sarah said. I knock on the door. Twice. Heather answers just as I am about to knock a third time.

"May I come in?" I ask, offering her my hand.

Instead of taking my hand, Heather steps aside, and motions for me to enter.

"Why did you come back?" she asks as we sit across each other in the living room. "It's not like you needed to see how I was. We are not an item."

"That's just it," I reply, leaning my elbows on my knees. "I was not going to just leave that final exchange of conversation, and think everything was hunky-Dory. You, of all people, should know that I would rather be a gentleman."

"Daniel," Heather says softly, tears glistening in her eyes."I know you applied before all the hustle and bustle. Why did you even apply at all? I'm your friend, and I don't want to see you getting hurt again. Remember that night, when you told me to run while I had a chance? You were the closest person I had to a friend, and I was not going to just leave you there. God used that, and my life changed. I went months thinking the one friend I ever had was gone. I got closer to your family, some of my co-workers have become better friends, but they are not you. Even in high school, you knew I was a sister in the Lord. How do you expect me to react?"

I nod, hearing every word she is saying. Heather leaves briefly, returning with a Kleenex. I do not like to see her cry. All that comes to my mind is the look on her face as I bled, near death, on the pharmacy floor. How she frantically tried to stop the blood long enough for the medics to arrive.

"Want a hug?" I ask as I stand, opening my arms.

Heather laughs softly. "That would be nice," she replies, standing as well.

She falls into my embrace like a limp doll. I hug her tightly, kissing the top of her head, the way I would when Sarah had gotten her heart broken.

"Be honest," I say slowly. "Would you prefer if I stayed?"

"You can't stay," she replies, shaking her head. "God confirmed it, He wants you to go."

"Yeah, I know. But if I did not have to go, would you prefer I didn't?"

Heather pulls away, looking up at me.

"I only want to know you are safe," she says, blinking back a new wave of tears. "I know that if God has you going away, it is for a reason. That is the case, so I should have nothing to fear."

"I need you to promise me one thing," I say, sighing. "If I write to you, will you send me a reply?"

The slightest hint of a smile is playing at the corner of Heather's mouth. I wait, encouraging her with goofy faces.

"Okay," she says finally, giggling. "I promise to reply to your letters, if you should send me any."

"Good," I say with a smile. "Because I want to know everything that happens at the pharmacy while I am gone. By the way, I think Dylan kind of likes you."

"The feeling is not mutual," Heather explains, dabbing whatever tears are left in her eyes. "I enjoy his company, he makes work very lively. However, I do not see him as anything more than a friend."

I chuckle, "Well, I had better go. My mother will be wondering if I will be eating dinner."

"I do not want to keep you from her . . . but if you would like to stay and eat here, I have lasagna leftovers."

I feign hesitation, sucking air through my teeth as I pretend to think about it.

"Yeah, why not," I say, laughing at Heather's expression. "I would love to stay."

She laughs, "Okay," she says, motioning to the kitchen. "I will just pop it into the microwave. You can get the plates and forks. What do you prefer to drink?"

"Anything you got will be fine."

"Okay, soft soda drinks all around!"

We laugh and go to the kitchen. We talk about school, our families; we talk about the years that I was away at college, and all that Heather did in that time.

When dinner is over, and all the dishes are clean, I get ready to leave. Heather comes outside with me, to say goodbye.

"This was fun," she says, hugging herself in her jacket. "I cannot remember ever enjoying myself so much."

"I enjoyed it too," I say, smiling. "We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, maybe we can do it when you come back on leave. It could be a nice dinner, with your family, and anyone else you want to invite."

"Yeah, that will be fun."

I sigh, looking up at the sky.

"Well," I say with a sigh. "I'll be seeing you around. Keep me in your prayers, 'Kay?"

"I will," Heather replies, nodding.

"And come see me again before I leave."

She nods, smiling; the streetlights are reflecting the glistening tears in her eyes.

"Heather," I go on, going around the car. "All God wants of you is that you obey Him. To give Him your all. He sent His only Son to die on the cross that we might be saved from our sin. What more can we ask for?"

Her smile grows, but I can still see the tears.

"Be safe," she says, making a motion with her hand.

"You too," I wave and get into the driver's seat.

Heather is still standing outside as I drive away. I look at her through the mirror; I know God will look out for her. It is just that I know Heather is alone . . .

"You are with her," I say, pointing up. "Heather is not alone, because You are with her. And there is nothing to worry about."

I smile to myself as I pull up in front of my parents' home.Sarah is sitting on the front step, waiting for a report, no doubt. I am going to miss her when I leave.