Then, the church had been formal. Now a smaller, more casual congregation surrounded him.
Then, between holding Leah’s hand, breathing in the scent of her body wash, and studying the appearance of the Brooksides, he’d paid almost zero attention to the service. Now he was paying close attention to the pastor.
Then, he’d felt as content as he’d ever felt. Now he was as far from content as it was possible to feel.
He went to church with the Colemans from time to time in Misty River. But he usually spent his Atlanta Sundays reading medical journals, exercising, running errands, or checking on his patients.
He’d come here today because of his itching, scratching discontent. Obviously, he couldn’t go on like this. He was sick of the slideshow of scenes—from the ruined building in El Salvador and his foster care years—that kept running through his mind.
He’d hoped for a sermon on a topic like God’s grace or love. Instead, the sermon centered on identity. It was as if the pastor, who was wearing a blazer with jeans, had written it just for him.
It wasn’t comforting him. It was confronting him.
He’d wanted to slip in and slip out without talking to anyone. But Ellie, the nurse at work who’d told him about this place, had spotted him almost as soon as he’d arrived, and rushed over. She and her friend had taken chairs to his right. Ellie had been shooting glances at him the whole service, which was annoying him almost as much as the sermon.
Ellie had made it clear to everyone they worked with that she was into him. She was a stunning girl—lots of shiny dark brown hair. Green eyes. But she was much too young and much too enthusiastic for him. She made him feel twenty years older than he was, and nothing about her personality or body or bright lipstick attracted him.
Ellie wasn’t a math genius. Ellie wasn’t too independent for her own good. She didn’t make his five senses light up like a pinball machine.
The woman who did make his senses light up still hadn’t called him.
If Leah cared about him, she would have called him by now. Right?
Sebastian had been certain that she cared about him, but maybe that had been wishful thinking. At times his ideas and opinions on a subject were so strong that he could project those onto other people.
It could be he was the guy that girls like Ellie had crushes on and that women who hit on him in bars wanted to sleep with. But he was not the guy that women like Leah cared about.
If so, how much of that was his fault? How much of that could be chalked up to the fact that he hadn’t let anyone care?
He’d made an error with Leah.
“My affection can’t be bought,”she’d said to him. It had been clear the day he’d given her the necklace that accepting presents didn’t come naturally to her, yet the gifts he’d purchased had served their purpose. They’d convinced her to go out with him.
He should have stopped there, while he was ahead, because he’d clearly crossed an invisible line when he’d made that phone call on Dylan’s behalf. In doing so, he’d insulted her.
If he wanted her back, which he did, it looked like he was going to have to make the first move.
What would work with her? How could he win her over in ways that went beyond wrapped packages and expensive dinners?
Long ago, she’d told him she appreciated it when people spoke to her directly. He was a blunt person. Even so, the thought of speaking to Leah about his emotions left him feeling unprotected.
Which was worse... losing Leah or feeling unprotected?
He was going to have to get over feeling unprotected, because losing Leah was much worse.
The pastor read from 1 John. “‘See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God.’ The most meaningful thing about you,” the pastor said, “isn’t your job. It’s not your status as a father, a mother. A husband, a wife. A son, a daughter. A sister, a brother. A friend. We’re all tempted to try to plant our identity in those things. Ultimately, they won’t satisfy, because that’s not how God created us to find meaning.”
Hands down, the most meaningful thing about Sebastian was his profession. He definitelyhadplanted most of his identity in it. His degrees and accomplishments had given him his truest sense of pride. Really, his only sense of pride. Yet as much as he loved his work, as committed as he was to it, it hadn’t brought him peace or wholeness.
“The most meaningful thing about you is that you are loved by God,” the pastor continued. “You’re a child of God. That’s the only identity that can bring satisfaction.”
At the close of the sermon, he prayed along with the pastor,asking God to forgive him, to help him find his identity as a child of God.
It didn’t help. His spirit remained distracted and frayed.
When Leah’s phone rang the next night, her heart wedged into her throat, just like it had every time her phone had rung for the past seven days. On each occasion, one name had sprung into her head.
Sebastian?
