Jessica loved how Saturday mornings didn't demand anything from her. They were slow, peaceful, and full of little things—worship music, her journal, and the quiet whisper of God before the world got too loud.
That morning, she left the house with no plan, only a prayer:
"Lead me, Lord. Even if it's just for a cup of tea."
She wandered through the quieter side of town, where old buildings still held charm and flower shops spilled color onto the sidewalks. The Willow Café—half-hidden between a bookstore and a florist—caught her eye.
Inside, the café was soaked in sunlight. Worship music floated in the background, and scriptures framed the walls like promises.
She ordered her usual—honey lavender tea—and made her way to a cozy corner table by the window. She pulled out her soft pink journal and Bible, settling in like she belonged there.
Isaiah 30:18 caught her heart.
"Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion."
She smiled softly, underlined the verse, and wrote:
"Lord, I'm not waiting for a husband to complete me, because You already have. As Your Word says in Colossians 2:10, "and you are complete in Him, who is the head of all principality and power." You are my wholeness, my anchor, my joy, my peace, my everything. But if You've written someone into my story, let him be a man who walks with You—who loves You more than he'll ever love me. That's how I'll know he's the one."
Another line followed:
"I don't want someone to rescue me. I want someone who meets me already whole, because You've filled the both of us first."
Feeling a nudge to move, she stood and walked to the washroom, leaving her tea, Bible, and journal behind.
---
Just across the street, Michael walked out of the flower shop with a bouquet of white lilies in hand. They were for his mom—his tradition. Every visit, he brought her these, her favorite, a simple way of saying thank you for her prayers that never stopped.
As he adjusted the flowers, his eyes lifted—and the café caught his attention.
There, painted on the café window in soft gold lettering, were the words:
"He makes all things beautiful in His time."
He stilled.
He had read that verse in his morning prayer. It hadn't left his mind since.
He crossed the street.
The café door chimed as he stepped in. The place felt peaceful, warm, as if time itself slowed down inside.
As he moved toward the counter, his eyes fell on a table by the window.
It wasn't empty. A tea mug, an open Bible, and a pink journal rested there.
But no one was seated.
Someone had just stepped away.
He shouldn't look.
But a line was already visible in the journal.
His eyes glanced at the journal.
A line caught his eye—bold and raw:
"Let him love You more than he'll love me."
His heart caught in his chest.
He read another:
"I don't want romance more than I want righteousness."
He didn't mean to read more. But the pages felt like prayer breathed in ink.
He closed the journal carefully and stepped back, just as his phone rang.
"Elijah," he said, answering. "Yeah?"
"Mike, your mom's flight landed early. I think she's already outside the airport waiting."
"Seriously? I'm on my way."
He glanced once more at the table—no one had returned yet.
He turned toward the door, bouquet in hand.
As he stepped outside, a girl brushed past him just inside—small in frame, brown-skinned, wearing a cardigan with soft waves falling down her back. Her face was turned away, focused on stirring something at the condiment bar.
Michael didn't notice.
He walked past, eyes down for a moment, lost in thought, just as Jessica returned to her table.
She noticed something.
Her journal had been moved.
Not much. Just enough.
She opened it slowly. Nothing seemed disturbed, but somehow… it felt seen.
She looked around. No one familiar. No one suspicious.
Outside, Michael climbed into his car, set the lilies beside him, and leaned his head back.
"Whoever she is," he said softly, "she knows what she wants—just like me."
He didn't know her name.
He hadn't seen her face.
But he had glimpsed her heart.
And somehow, that was even more beautiful.