<< Go Back

Hearts Surrender

By Marianne Evans

Order Now!

Kenneth Lucerne donned a weighty, calf-length vestment, the white, gold-trimmed mantle of his calling. In the seclusion of his pastoral office at Woodland Church, he adjusted its fit and fall.
Something in his spirit tried to ignite…and failed.
A centering breath later, he closed his eyes, and prayed. God, grace me with the strength to fulfill the mission You have entrusted to my care. Grant me the heart and wisdom to share Your mercy, Your love, and Your truth. Please be with me, in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Beyond the partially-opened door came the gradually building noise from the narthex as parishioners arrived for ten o’clock services.
Ken opened his eyes slowly, seeing and absorbing. First thing that hit him? Naturally, it was the brass framed photograph of his wife, Barb. He firmed his heart against a familiar onslaught of pain as his thoughts performed an auto correct: His late wife, Barb.
Outside the office, Ken heard the Edwards family arrive. Their voices stood out—won his interest by virtue of familiarity and deep affection. Exuberant conversations and laughter, so typical to the clan, were interrupted suddenly by the sharp, plaintive cry of a baby. A unison chorus of tender assurances followed, so too, a smattering of gentle coos.
A smile tugged against the corners of his mouth. Today, Woodland would welcome in baptism the soul of two-month-old Jeffrey Lance Edwards, son of Collin and Daveny Edwards.
He attempted spiritual ignition once again and came closer this time.
Still, a void yawned before him, widened by the prospect of a loving family gathering. Moments like this intensified that deep, almost breath-stealing sense of loss, but he tried not to dwell on that fact. He couldn’t afford to think of Barb, of losing the most precious person in his life. Not in a moment so full of God’s joy and light.
Determination rode in, heightening his resolve to leave melancholy behind and meet God’s present moment head-on, in his role as Pastor.
His heart’s ignition switch flickered, sparked hot, and then fired to life.
Leaving the office, he walked a short corridor leading to the church proper.
“Have you ever seen such a perfectly shaped mouth in your life?” Collin Edwards asked the family assemblage.
Stepping up from behind, Ken stifled a laugh. Collin fit the stereotypical role of proud father to a ‘T’, but the emotion behind his comment was authentic and warming.
“Yes, I have,” said Collin’s wife, Daveny. “Every time I look at you.”
Amidst laughter, and a few groans from Collin’s brothers, Ken entered the circle of the Edwards family and clapped a hand against Collin’s shoulder. “Have you ever seen such a proud father in your life?”
Through the enthusiastic welcome he received, through the teasing that ensued, Ken searched…and found. Kiara Jordan.
He knew she’d be front and center. Daveny’s best friend and business partner wasn’t part of the Edwards family by blood, but rather by unanimous consent.
She gently lifted Jeffrey from Daveny’s arms and brought the baby into a close tuck. She nuzzled his plump, pink cheek. The fall of Kiara’s straight, honey-colored hair danced like a curtain around her shoulders, the satin of which Ken could nearly feel. For a moment, he just stared, taking his fill of a beautiful woman cradling an innocent baby.
“He is, without question, the cutest baby ever,” Kiara said.
“Absolutely,” concurred Elise Edwards, the equally proud grandmother.
Ken noticed the somewhat aged christening blanket draped over Kiara’s arm. She would be up front with the whole family during the baptism, standing next to the gray and white marble font during the ceremony. Made sense. Daveny Montgomery Edwards, an only child, considered Kiara a surrogate sister.
“You want to see Pastor Ken, Jeffrey?” Kiara murmured, stepping close. She focused her gaze on his, her emerald eyes alive and sparkling. When she handed Jeffrey over, the light scent of a floral perfume drifted up. Like the woman who wore it, the aroma was evocative.
“How are you?” Ken asked quietly, unwilling to relinquish her gaze.
“Good. I’m sure glad to see you again. Welcome back.” Her smile bloomed, large and beautiful—engaging. It took a few seconds for Ken to find his equilibrium.
“Thanks. It’s good to be back.”
“How was the mission trip?”
While Ken cuddled Jeffrey, Kiara rubbed the baby’s back. The motion left him keenly aware of the connection between the three of them. “It was hard work—but very rewarding.”
“You were in Louisiana, right? Just outside of New Orleans? Habitat for Humanity?”
“Exactly.” The knowledge that this compelling woman had tracked his absence sent pleasure seeping through his bloodstream. Within her observations, though, Ken sensed an underlying current, one that traveled beyond simple interest. She cared about the answer. So he elaborated. “There’s a world of great work being done down there. We helped build new houses, even assisted in improving dilapidated structures inside and out. We fed masses of homeless people, too. In fact, the whole program left me wanting to get members of our youth group motivated to donate some time and muscle to a mission trip of our own—maybe sometime this fall.”
Jeffrey’s back rub ended when Kiara went still, though her hand remained in place while she looked into Ken’s eyes. Almost instantly, the baby started a restless squirm. “Really? What an amazing experience that would be.” She retreated a bit, breaking the connection to Jeffrey. She looked down as she ran her fingertips against the tassels that edged the christening blanket. She looked up once more. “You must have enjoyed being a source of help and benefit. I give you a lot of credit.”
Ken could tell her comment didn’t stem from polite conversation or small talk. Images from the trip came to him, click-by-click, like a slideshow display. He had witnessed helplessness, poverty, the destitute living conditions of over-burdened families. But he had also witnessed transformation—hope and rebirth delivered by hard working hands and giving hearts.
Giving hearts like Kiara’s.
Not for the first time in the years since they had met, Ken sensed within her a quest, a longing for self-discovery. Trouble was, she fought that instinct, too.
So he challenged. “Maybe you can find out.” He studied her for a moment. “I have a good memory. I’ll remember this conversation if we end up putting the mission trip together. You may become one of my first adult recruits.”
She blushed, looking away shyly while she shook her head. Her pattern, he knew, might be to step aside, but her heart turned her toward service—service that could be put to miraculous use.
Magnetized, Ken could have studied her features, that delicate flush of reaction, for much longer; however, family conversations, plans and questions took her away from his direct focus. Besides, more and more parishioners filtered in, sweeping him into his role as Pastor.
Ken tried not to be blatant about watching Kiara, but following their conversation, he had time to consider the ideas he had about crafting a mission trip that involved Woodland Church. In fact, the seeds of that plan took root and bloomed into a flare of color and life that was instantaneous. While he watched her move through the church, mixing with people and chatting, Ken knew he wanted Kiara involved—and he felt confident he could convince her to participate.
That fact alone provided a spurring push of motivation.

Order Now!

<< Go Back