Chapter 4 A Table in the Wilderness

Amara stared at her bank balance that morning and fought back tears. The rent was overdue, her children's school had sent another reminder, and her pantry shelves were nearly bare. Every part of her screamed to give up.

But then Liam, her nine-year-old, walked in, holding his toy sword aloft.

"Mom, don't worry. I'll protect us."

She chuckled weakly, kissing his head, but something in his words lingered. Protect us. Wasn't that what God had always promised? A table in the wilderness, provision in the desert?

Later that week, Cole invited her to a private dinner at a quiet restaurant. She almost declined-her pride wanted her to hide her struggles-but she went.

When she arrived, Cole was already seated, his presence commanding yet strangely gentle. Over the meal, he listened more than he spoke. He asked about her children, her dreams, her scars. And instead of pitying her, he looked at her as though she were a queen who had only misplaced her crown.

"Amara," he said softly, "sometimes life breaks us to build us stronger. But I don't believe you were made for defeat."

Her eyes brimmed. She hadn't heard words like that in years.

They lingered over the meal, and when they parted, she felt as though something had shifted in the atmosphere. The wilderness had not ended, but maybe, just maybe, the table was being set.