Where is God when you need him? After struggling to fit into a new town and school, Sadie faces questions about her faith, family, and friendships, questioning all she has come to believe. Sadie’s life is spinning out of control. Her friend moved away, her mom remains ill, and her dad wants to leave town. At least the play Sadie is helping produce appears to be going well. After all, she gets to create the sets with her art teacher’s help. But even that falls apart when a flash flood destroys her teacher’s home and art. How can she trust or even believe in a God who would allow all this? God isn’t fair. With everything crumbling and her faith on the edge, Sadie must find strength in the God she’s questioning in order to hold on in the midst of her struggles. Naomi Kinsman has always dreamed of plunging into a fiction world, like Lucy does in Voyage of the Dawn Treader . In Naomi’s first career, acting and directing for the theater, this dream was inches from her reach. But writing has made the dream possible, and now Naomi regularly slips into book worlds and shares her adventures through her company, Society of Young Inklings, dedicated to empowering young writers across the country. Naomi is the author of the 2009 Moonbeam Gold Medal winner, Spilled Ink , and she has written and directed over 50 plays for young audiences. She lives in Northern California with her husband and identically colored pets: a tuxedo cat and a Portuguese water dog. Waves of Light Faithgirlz!/From Sadie's Sketchbook By Naomi Kinsman Downing ZONDERKIDZ Copyright © 2012 Naomi Kinsman Downing All right reserved. ISBN: 978-0-310-72666-1 Chapter One Scheming I didn't bother waiting for Vivian to answer my knock. Instead, I threw open her front door and ran down the hall, past the tank of red and orange tropical fish, through the sunny kitchen, and into the back room, which smelled of oil paint and charcoal dust. Glow-in-the-dark constellations decorated the ceiling and one indigo-blue wall. The other walls were all windows overlooking the back porch and the forest beyond. Outside, clumps of leftover snow melted here and there, and wildflowers popped up, dots of purple and yellow in the otherwise spring green grass. Vivian and Frankie sat on stools pulled up to the paint-smeared table, already drawing. "You're late, Sadie." Vivian gave me a stern look, but we all knew there were only two rules in her art studio. One: Mistakes are to be expected. Two: Never give up. I was the only person worried about my lateness today. I didn't want to miss a second of drawing time. I'd traded a few minutes of class for the final please, pretty please that had finally pushed Dad over the edge. "He said I could go!" I gasped, still catching my breath. Frankie vaulted off her chair and threw her arms around me. "Oh, Sadie! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I hugged her back, laughing. "So, what are we working on today?" "More perspective." Frankie rolled her eyes. "I can't get my landscapes to line up. Something always ends up giant or miniature." I peeked over Vivian's shoulder as she fussed over her sketch, adding a line here, erasing a line there. Yet another plan for a three-dimensional piece to include in the New York exhibit. "I've never seen you nervous before—about anything." I dug through my backpack for my sketchbook. "Usually I'm not. But then two schemers pitched my art—behind my back—to an art gallery." "Oh come on, Viv. You know you're excited," Frankie said. "And scared out of my mind. What will New York City art collectors think of my sculptures?" Frankie grabbed Vivian's sketchbook and held it up like a hostess on the Home Shopping Network. "Ladies and gentlemen, check out these astounding works of art by the Amazing Vivian Harris. Buy them before they're gone!" "I think the cookies just dinged," Vivian said, heading for the door. "You could thank us," Frankie teased. Vivian called over her shoulder, "Thank you!" I grinned at Frankie. "She loves it." "Setting up the art show was totally selfish," Frankie said. "I couldn't stand the thought of flying to New York by myself. Now that you're coming, at least the drive will be fun. If only there wasn't doom afterward." "I love road trips." I climbed onto the stool next to her and grabbed a pencil. "Besides, your mom can't be that bad." "Crystal glasses and high heels aren't my thing." Frankie jabbed her sketchbook with a pencil. "My mom hates my clothes—especially my favorite pair of boots. And she thinks not having a manicure is a disaster." Frankie forced a smile, but her happy energy was gone. Joking around, planning for Vivian's art show, even driving to New York together—the facts still remained. Frankie's dad had decided to move to Canada, and her mom wouldn't let Frankie leave the country to go live with him. So, without having any say, Frankie had to move to New York. "I've tried everything. Dad won't change his