“You’re the amazing one.” He touched her cheek and thrilled at the way the contact filled him up and made his heartbeat rush through his ears. On that feeling of floating, he rushed out the door and over to the church.
The board was already set up in their semicircle of chairs. He took the one facing them, much like he had in his interview, and hated the sense of being on trial. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He should have been here a half hour ago, shaking hands and kissing babies. Not that there were any babies in the room. There should be. They should have a building full of families.
The meeting started out like any other meeting. But it felt like there was more to it, like the very air was charged with anticipation.
Finally, Mrs. Miller announced the budget section of the meeting, taking a moment to acknowledge the generous donation and praising the Lord for opening the windows of heaven. Seth scooted forward in his chair and straightened his tie. A small bead of sweat trailed down his back, making him squirm. This was his chance.
Mr. White cleared his throat, taking command of the meeting. “I think we are all in agreement that receiving these funds now is a sign that we should increase our advertising for funeral arrangements and redo the parking lot.”
Seth stared down at his palms. He had calluses from shoveling, raking, and emptying the collections bag on the lawn mower. When he looked up, he found all of the heads around him nodding in agreement. “I know I’m new here,” he interrupted, “but I have an idea that I think might bring new life to this ministry.” His palms grew clammy as he took in the stern faces of the church board.
“New life?” barked Mr. Green. “If you haven’t noticed, son, most of our current congregation is more worried about the end of life.”
Mrs. Green elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t joke about death like that.” She turned to Seth like a teacher in a classroom. She very well could have been one once up on a time. “Go ahead, tell us what you have in mind.”
“I understand the concerns about taking care of the people who have been faithful parishioners. I do. But I also know that a ministry needs youth and families to thrive.” Seth hated how his voice sounded unsure. He had years of training in oration and speech, not to mention diction, so why was it so hard to express himself in front of these people? Perhaps it was because they held his future in their hands—or, more likely, because they held Evie’s future in their hands. He didn’t want to mess that up. He didn’t want to squander her faith in him.
“It would be nice to see a few cherub cheeks during Sunday services,” said Mrs. Miller.
Seth grabbed on to that small glimmer of hope like a man aching for a glass of water. “Yes. Yes! And to have a teen group. One that would meet during the week to offer support to youth and provide friendships for those who may feel alone in their faith at a delicate age.”
Mr. White shook his head. “Teen groups are a lot of work. They take volunteers. Where are you going to get them?”
Seth through a deep breath before answering. “For now, my wife and I will oversee the group.”
“You two are already doing so much.” Mrs. Miller shook her finger at him. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to wear that wife of yours out.”
“I doubt that’s possible. She does more in one afternoon than I do all week.”
His confession earned him a round of chuckles.
He rubbed his hands on his legs to dry the palms. His nerves were starting to calm, and he felt like he could express what was in his heart. “I’d also like to get a Sunday nursery going.” He held up a palm to stop objections. “This could be done on a rotating volunteer basis from the mothers of the smaller children. They could take turns working the nursery and then maybe even have some time to themselves every few weeks.”
Mr. Green grunted. “Why do they need time off for?”
Mrs. Green smacked him with the back of her hand so hard he rubbed his chest. “You men never seem to understand. My vote goes with the preacher, because he’s the only one of you who seems to have any type of inspiration.”
“I’m not trying to divide genders here.” Seth chuckled nervously. “But I believe that our church, our ministry, would be much stronger if we became a resource for families.”
Mr. Duncan, who hadn’t said a word up to this point, lowered one foot to the floor and placed his hand over his belly. “Are we going to spend all afternoon arguing over this? The early bird special starts at 4:30, and I don’t want to miss it.”
Mr. White rubbed his balding head. “I thought this would be a cut-and-dry conversation.” He leveled Seth with a look that had sensor in it, much like a father pinning his child to the wall.
Seth did his best to maintain eye contact. He wasn’t here to cause problems, but he couldn’t deny this was the direction the Lord wanted him to take. It wasn’t only Evie’s desire for the program that urged him forward; it was his past. Having been the kid who’d found refuge in a youth program, he knew in his heart of hearts that there were kids struggling out there. Each time he knelt down and asked direction from the Lord, all the arrows pointed this way.
Unfortunately, Seth also knew the Lord well enough to know that He could be sending him on a journey that would end with Seth out of a job. There were no guarantees. He’d obey and then have to leave the rest up to the Lord. And if he was out of a job, that would mean he was out of a wife. The whole reason Evie had agreed to marry him was for this ministry. If preaching was taken away, then she would leave too. The thought caused his heart to constrict and tighten painfully inside of him.
Mrs. Miller motioned for them to look her way. “Why don’t we ask the pastor to create a chart or a list or some kind of plan to show us what he has in mind? Including how much he thinks it would all cost.”
“I would be happy to do that.” Seth smoothed his tie over his chest. He should have thought to bring one today.
“Wonderful. Then we can look over your proposition in a week.” She dusted off her hands as if the problem were solved.
Seth smiled as if everything were right with the world. The closing prayer was said, and he stood up to shake hands and offer smiles like he should have done at the beginning of the meeting. Running out of there would only make him look less confident. Worse, it would make it seem as if he didn’t have a plan. He had a plan; it was just all in his head.
He should have come more prepared, and he felt young and immature for showing up without a polished presentation. Maybe Mr. White was right. Maybe he was too young to lead this ministry.
He tried to push the dark thoughts aside, but he continued to struggle as he made his way to his office. Once he was settled behind the desk, he bowed his head in prayer. “Dear God, please help me to remember my worth in Thy sight is not based on what man believes me capable of. I am Your servant. Amen.”
