A Blessed Life

He yanked open the medicine cabinet and grabbed his toothbrush, not wanting to see that face in the mirror anymore. He couldn’t allow himself to think of her this way. She was a divorcée—a recent one at that—with a child. It didn’t matter at all to him, but he would have been naive not to realize some church members would consider a youth minister dating a divorcée to be scandalous.

Besides, Serena had so much baggage. Would he be able to handle helping her carry it? Of course, he knew better than to try. He’d even tasted the inevitable pain that an ill-advised relationship could cause. That knowledge, which had come courtesy of Marnie, had left a bitter taste in his mouth. The sting felt fresh sometimes, despite the few years’ buffer since their breakup. He didn’t want to feel pain like that ever again.

No, he could have no romantic fantasies about Serena Jacobs. His only interest in her should be spiritual. He sensed that she had a personal relationship with God, but it was obvious she wanted the Lord to take a hands-off approach, a plan that wasn’t working well for her. Maybe his interest in her was God-sent, making him a vehicle for her spiritual guidance. That was all it could be.

Last night’s party had given him an idea of a way to help Serena with her depression and to jump-start her spiritual growth at the same time. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty that this ingenious plan—convincing her to teach Sunday School in the youth department—also happened to make his life a few hundred times easier, right? A knot that formed in his stomach made him wonder if regularly being that close to Serena, within reach but still so far away, wouldn’t also make his life a lot harder.

Turning on the shower faucet, Andrew kept the water temperature a few degrees below comfortably warm. He shivered as he stepped under its spray and tipped his head back so the flood covered his face. This would be a good way to clear his mind of all unnecessary thoughts. Then he could focus on his calling to help the whole church community, not just one troubled young mother and her sick child. He hoped beyond hope that the water would also remove thoughts of dark, shiny hair and a sweet, feminine smile.

The knock had to be from miles away, somewhere in her dream, but it dragged Serena helplessly to consciousness, anyway. She heard the knock again, not ten feet from the sofa where she’d collapsed what seemed like only a few minutes before. She tried to lift up, but had to roll Tessa off her chest before she could move. How and when had Tessa gotten out of bed? She remembered putting her slumbering daughter to bed before giving in to exhaustion. At least, she thought she had.

Again the knock beckoned, louder this time. More insistent. Sitting up, she glanced at the wall clock in the corner. Three o’clock. Had they slept all day? She jogged to the front door and jerked it open. Andrew stood there, his hair damp and combed back straight, but his eyes looking anything but fresh. She steadied herself, refusing to acknowledge the immediate jolt to her system.

“It’s about time. If I hadn’t seen your car parked out front, I’d have given up and gone home.”

She would have asked him why he was there in the first place, but his unusual demeanor hinted that he was wearing his minister’s “hat” today. Something about this other side of him made her even less comfortable than did his presence as a man at her front door. She self-consciously patted down her hair, thankful that she’d been too tired to change out of her clothes when she’d arrived home. She was rumpled, but at least she was decent.

“I was trying to catch up on some much-needed rest. You might be able to relate.” She pulled the door open wide. “Would you like to come in?”

She pushed the screen door halfway open and felt a whisk of air past her knees. Tessa, still wearing a pair of baby-doll pajamas, was in Andrew’s arms before he made it through the front door. Immediately he slipped out of his official capacity and became Tessa’s playmate, twirling her around and letting her drag him up the stairs to see her room.

Eventually, Tessa deserted her guest to go play “dress and undress” with her dolls, leaving Serena and Andrew to sit across from each other in the living room. The way he watched her today seemed more intense, as if he were looking straight into her soul. The knot in her belly felt as if it were pushing on vital organs. She wondered if he’d find her as vacant inside as she often felt.

“You had a nice time last night, didn’t you?”

Relief flooded her. Maybe he would make this visit easy on her. “Yes, the kids were great. Tessa had a wonderful time. I’m glad we went.”

He looked away, his gaze traveling over the navy-and-burgundy plaid sofa where he sat, then across the three-foot gap to the love seat she was perched on. “The kids were glad you were there, too. And they loved Tessa. You two really fit in.”

She tried to forget her discomfort over what he must have thought about the cramped room, stuffed with furniture that had fit nicely in her old Grand Rapids home. Besides, the way he was talking made her uncomfortable.

“What are you getting at?”

“Have you ever thought about being involved with a youth group?”

“Not since I graduated from high school,” she said with a quick smile.

“I mean as a teacher.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that what the church pays you to do?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s part of my job, but I’d like to have at least two Sunday School teachers for the youth department—one for junior high and one for high school. I’d take the high school class. Would you consider teaching the junior high class?”

“Oh, Andrew, I don’t know about that.”

“It would be really easy. The lessons are all broken down in the teacher’s guide. If you have any other questions each week, I’m always available to help you. You’ll feel so much better if you stay busy helping other people.”

She shook her head. He wasn’t playing fair. He was making it hard to say no. “That just doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”

“Didn’t you like the youth group when you were a teen?”

“I loved it.”

“Then, I’m sure you want that same great experience for the kids here in Milford.”

Serena chuckled. He should have been a politician. He already had persuasion down to an art. “Yes, I want that, but—”

“Did your parents bring you to church when you were little?”

What kind of new approach was this? She felt as if she were being manipulated, and wondered how to respond. “Every week. It was a real family affair.”

“Did they force you to go?”

She shook her head. “No, never. I wanted to go. I was a teenager who looked forward to it. Does that sound strange to you?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Not to me. I just want to know how they did it and how I can pass that information along to the parents of my kids.”

His kids. She liked the way he claimed the church’s youth as his own. “Their method was pretty simple. They introduced me to their loving God and helped me to develop a friendship with Him, as well.” Vignettes from happier times filled her mind, full of her parents’ smiles and songs of praise. “It was so easy to love the Lord then.”

She was surprised that she’d spoken those words aloud.

He said nothing for a long time, then finally nodded. “That would be hard for me to understand if I hadn’t experienced it myself, but I know what it’s like to struggle with trusting God even when I need Him most.”

She stared into eyes, her questions finding no answers in his carefully neutral gaze. He straightened, as if he recognized her awakening curiosity about his own box of secrets. She had a pretty good idea that he wouldn’t give her a chance to pry.

“Now is your time to trust, Serena. The Father is waiting. You have only to ask.” He spread his arms, hands palms up, as if to demonstrate the simplicity of his seemingly monumental request.

“Come on, Andrew. I’ve never said I lost faith. I still believe, just as I always have.”

“What have you always believed? That God is this wonderful benevolent spirit who’s there to make the daffodils bloom but can’t be called upon for anything more complicated than traveling mercies or final exam support?”

“I don’t think you’re being fair.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m not.” Andrew shifted in his seat again, leaning forward. “I just want you to see that it’s okay to give up the power, to allow God to carry you through times when you can’t walk under your own steam.”

Anguish gripped her in its powerful fist, but she fought for control. Always control. “You don’t understand. I’ve had to walk alone too long. Too far.”

“I’m sorry that your former husband hurt you. You never should have had to experience his betrayal. He failed you when you needed him. But God never did. And He never will.”

The subject died a quick death then. She didn’t want to reveal all of the humiliating details. Although she could hardly argue with his logic about God, she wasn’t ready to inhale his words like the scent of lilacs, either. It was easier to let it drop.

The silence between them disturbing her, she returned to the earlier—safer—subject. “I really did have fun last night. Tessa did, too.”

Andrew grinned, seeming to put behind him the intensity of the moment before. “She’s great, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“So are you…especially with the youth group.”