But those three months in Sommerfeld had turned everything upside down.

Clamping her hands around the edges of the glass, she lifted the scene from its perch on the windowsill. She grunted with the effort. The piece was larger than any others she’d made so far and heavy from the metal that bordered each glass segment. Andrew reached for it, but she shook her head.

“I can do it.” She shuffled across the floor to the display bench along the back wall of her small studio. Sweat broke out across her forehead and between her shoulder blades. Once the scene was secured behind the wood strip that kept the finished pieces from sliding, she wiped her forehead and sent Andrew a triumphant grin. “See?”

His frown let her know he wished she would let him handle the heavier tasks, but Beth was determined not to depend on Andrew too much. Beth was determined not to depend on anyone too much.

She offered a suggestion. “As long as you’re here, you could put
away the shipment of glass that came this morning.”

Andrew shrugged and turned toward the crate in the corner. Beth removed her gloves and put them in the top drawer of her storage cabinet. This cabinet is really too pretty to simply house supplies, she thought as she ran her hand over the smooth pine top. Two of her mother’s cousins had built the cabinet for her, varying the sizes of the drawers and inserting dividers to keep everything organized. A quick glance around the steel building that served as her studio brought a second rush of appreciation. Watching the building go up in one day, reminiscent of an old-fashioned barn raising, had been thrilling—and scary.

She still marveled at the support she’d received from the community after their initial mistrust. Yet she realized their willingness to help didn’t indicate approval of her. Since she hadn’t joined their meetinghouse, she was still an “outsider.” But Mom had rejoined, so they offered their newly claimed member’s wayward daughter a helping hand. And now that they’d all had a hand in getting her studio up and running, she felt a real obligation to make it a success.

Her gaze returned to the dogwood and cardinal scene, her heart pounding with hope. A gallery in Wichita had commissioned the piece—her first real commissioned work after nine months of selling smaller, copper-foil pieces at craft fairs. If the gallery owners were pleased, it could lead to more work, and eventually she would be able to establish herself as a bona fide stained-glass artist.

So far, the response to her work had been favorable—her unique blending of colors that created a three-dimensional effect was unique to the stained-glass community—and she credited God with giving her the special talent. She longed to glorify Him through this gift.

Heading for the corner to retrieve the broom, she couldn’t help smiling at her thoughts. A year and a half ago, she wouldn’t have considered including God in her conversation, let alone being concerned about pleasing Him. But so many things had changed for Beth, both inside and out, and God was the most important addition to her life.