Hope Springs (21 page)

“Wait, what's that?” Todd had heard it too.

Janelle and Travis looked at one another. They'd spent the late afternoon and evening helping Becca and Todd move in, along with Kory, who had left a little while ago.

“It's not a big deal,” Janelle said. “Certainly nothing you need to concern yourself with the night before your first sermon.”

Travis went for another slice of pizza. “Plus you're tired from driving through the night and unloading a moving van. Dude.” He gave him the eye as he sat back down. “Trust me. You don't want to hear it.”

“Which makes me want to hear it more,” Todd said. “I heard you say something about Calvary and New Jerusalem. What's up?”

Janelle took her paper plate to the trash. “I'm baffled that this is even an issue in this day and time, but anyway . . . We had a meeting at New Jerusalem this afternoon, setting up committees for the year.” She grabbed a bottled water from the fridge. “Somebody said we need volunteers tomorrow for the hospitality committee, and Sister Taylor asked if I could do it. I said I couldn't 'cause I'll be at Calvary tomorrow.”

Todd looked surprised. “You will?”

She stopped and looked at him before she sat down. “Of course. You're my friend, and it's your big day.”

“Cool.” Todd smiled. “Okay, so . . .”

“So Sister Taylor asked why I was going to Calvary's service and not my own.” Janelle looked perplexed, as if she were still in the moment. “Really? You feel the need to call me out and ask why?” She sighed. “I explained that I wanted to support Todd, and she actually said I should show my support by going to the reception Calvary was having afterward, because New Jerusalem members need to support their own pastor.”

Becca's eyes got big. “She said it in the meeting?”

“Yes. And got some amens.”

“And you know I had to stand up,” Travis said. “I told them you and I were best friends growing up, and
I
would be at Calvary's service in the morning too, if I could.”

“That's incredible,” Todd said.

“But that's not all,” Janelle said. “Someone else stood up and said the Calvary reception wasn't an option anyway, because she'd asked and was told it was for Calvary members only.”

“What?” Todd looked at Becca, incredulous. “Who would say that? As if it had actually been discussed and determined that it was for Calvary only.”

Travis shrugged. “Maybe it was.”

“No, I think it was an individual taking it upon himself or herself to make it exclusive. But whatever the case, I'm making it clear that that's not the deal at Calvary.” He looked at his watch. “Ten fifteen. I'll have to wait until the morning. I hope it's not too late to rectify it.”

Travis pushed his plate aside. “Reminds me of the vacation Bible school fiasco.”

“Oh, man . . . I'd never seen my dad that hot.”

Becca had never heard this story. “What happened?”

“I don't know about this either,” Janelle said.

“We didn't have a youth ministry program growing up,” Todd said. “They did a few special things for kids during the school year, and usually nothing in summer. But this one summer”—he turned to Travis—“how old were we, about twelve?”

“Sounds right,” Travis said.

“Calvary decided to do a weeklong vacation Bible school program. One of the women had seen it somewhere else and wanted to bring it here. So they made this big deal of it, put a big banner outside the church that they were holding vacation Bible school.”

“And New Jerusalem didn't have anything like it,” Travis said. “So Todd tells me, and I get hyped about it. We show up together Monday morning.”

Becca got a sick feeling in her gut. “And what?”

“The women at the registration table looked at me like I was an alien from outer space.”

Janelle cringed. “Tell me no.”

Travis gave her a big nod instead. “You would've thought I didn't grow up here, didn't go to school with Calvary kids, didn't go to church right down the street. They said they were sorry, but the vacation Bible school program was for children of Calvary members only.” He paused, and it was clear the memory hurt still. “Never mind that right next to me a classmate was registering, and I knew he belonged to a church in another town.”

“I went straight to Dad,” Todd said. “Right in front of me he called the people in charge into his office. He said if it wasn't open to any kid who wanted to come, he was closing the whole program immediately.”

“Did you go, Travis?” Becca asked.

Travis shot her a look.

“I asked him to change his mind,” Todd said, “but who could blame him for staying away after that?”

Janelle sighed. “The sad part is all the summers I spent down here as a kid, I never gave much thought to the fact that there was a white church and a black church. Maybe because the church I attended at home was predominantly black. But now that I'm attending a multiethnic church, I see things so differently.”

“Now that you mention it,” Becca said, “our church in St. Louis has almost a thousand members and only a handful are black.”

Travis was pensive. “When New Jerusalem invited me to be senior pastor, I had a lot of reservations. First, I said I wasn't coming back to this small town. I wanted to pastor in a big urban environment. And I was serving at a church in Dallas that was growing in diversity. I liked that. Being back here with the white church and the black church and all the old ways didn't excite me.”

“So what made you change your mind?” Janelle asked.

“I prayed about it—prayed for peace about saying no, to be accurate.” He chuckled. “But it kept nagging at me, and God kept taking me to Isaiah, to the verse about Him doing a new thing, making rivers in the desert.” He sat back, folding his arms. “Let's put it this way. I'm totally walking by faith.”

“Wow,” Janelle said. “And you didn't know at the time that Todd would be taking over as Calvary's pastor a few months later.”

“Huh. That same verse has been coming to me,” Todd said. “You know what, Trav? We should start meeting regularly for prayer. It'd be powerful to seek God together about what He wants to do here.”

Travis sat forward, a smile coming to his face. “Oh, that gets me excited, bro. Let's do it.”

Becca covered another yawn.

“I hear you, Becca,” Janelle said. “I'm sleepy myself.” She got up and pushed her chair in. “Todd and Travis, y'all can't be hangin' out and talking late on Saturday night like you used to. You got sermons to preach in the morning.”

“Isn't that something?” Travis got up and dumped his plate in the trash. “I feel like we're actual adults with responsibilities.”

Todd put his arm around Becca as they stood. “Wait till you have a family. That's when it really gets scary.”

Becca gave him the eye. “That better be scary in a good way.”

Todd flashed his boyish smile. “What other scary is there?”

They walked the others to the door.

“I've been thinking about that a lot lately,” Travis said. “Whether I'll have a family one day.”

Todd put his hands in his pockets. “You have? Thinking you'd like to?”

“Absolutely. Just need that vital missing component.”

“The way those women in your congregation look at you,” Janelle said, “I don't think it'll be missing for long.”

“Ahh . . .” Becca grinned. “Methinks I'll have a pastor's wife counterpart very soon.”

“Ahh . . . ,” Travis returned. “Methinks life is never that simple. Both of you just save me a spot at your tables, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Becca nodded. “Spot saved and prayers going up for that counterpart.”

“Watch out,” Todd said. “Things happen when she puts prayer on something.”

Travis opened the door. “I've got no problem with Becca praying up a wife for me. Just be specific, is all I ask. She's gotta know how to cook.”

“That's it?” Janelle asked.

“Trust me, it whittles the list down real quick.” He laughed again. “All right, I'm out.”

He and Janelle left and Becca thought about Todd's words as she went up to bed.
“Things happen when she puts prayer on something.”
She'd asked God for years to do big things with her ministry, and she was watching the answer unfold before her very eyes. She needed to keep praying and believing that this was only the beginning. As bone-weary as she was, she had a great sense of anticipation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sunday, January 17

S
tanding in the senior pastor's office watching her husband adjust his tie, Becca suddenly felt the magnitude of the moment. Todd had been given charge over this church and these people. He was responsible for feeding them spiritually, for leading in righteousness, for setting a Christlike standard. It might be a small church, but it was still a big burden.

She took his hand and looked deep into his eyes. “I am so proud of you. You didn't take the position because it benefited you. You didn't take it because it would give you a voice to thousands. You took it just because you knew in your heart that this is where God was calling you. I couldn't be more thrilled for you today.” She smiled at him. “And you look way too handsome in that suit.”

Todd looked focused. “I wouldn't have done it without your support,” he said. “Still hard to believe we actually did this.” He nodded to himself. “God's got some purpose. I'm excited to see how it plays out.”

“Me too. I think you'll—oh, Ethan, sweetheart, you can't write on that.” She spotted him on the floor, pen against the wall. “Where'd you get that?”

It took some tugging to wrest it from his hand, and then he dissolved into crocodile tears.

Becca bent and picked him up. “Ethan, shhh, not now. Service is about to start.” She looked to Todd as Ethan did the stiff-bodied, escalating cry move. “Guessing he didn't get the memo about perfect behavior on Dad's first official day.”

An elderly woman who volunteered for the church poked her head into the office. “Everything okay? Somebody's awfully upset.”

Becca smiled as best she could. “Everything's fine. He's just having a moment.”

“Let me see him, Bec.” Todd took him as he tried to grab the pen from Becca again, crying still. He looked into Ethan's eyes. “Not acceptable, buddy. You're not getting the pen. Now stop the crying fit.” Todd set him in his pastor's chair and got something out of a drawer. “You want the crayon to draw?”

Ethan nodded big, reaching for it.

“You have to stop crying first.”

The sobs went to his chest as he sucked in air, finally quieting. Todd gave him the crayon and a piece of paper, then chuckled. “Ethan must've known I needed to focus on something besides my first sermon. Take the edge off a little.”

Claire dashed into the office in a pretty dress. She'd been everywhere, checking out the church, helping to fold programs, watching people.

“Mom, guess what? I saw Tiffany come in!” And she was gone again.

Claire had asked this morning why Tiffany and Dee attended a different church, reminding Becca of last night's conversation at the kitchen table.

“Well, honey, that's where their families go and Calvary is where our family goes,” Becca had said.

“But why? If we're all friends, why can't we go to the same church?”

“Well, in St. Louis you had friends who didn't go to our church, right?”

“Mom.” Claire sighed, as if wondering why she needed to explain. “St. Louis is, like, a thousand people. Of course we went to different churches.”

Becca told her Tiffany would be at the service today and let her excitement be the end of it. She couldn't bear Claire making the connection that the difference was the color of their skin.

“We'd better head to the sanctuary,” Becca said.

Todd had already had a prayer time with the elders and was standing by his desk, looking over his notes once more.

He kissed her. “Okay, see you in there.”

An usher led Becca, Claire, and Ethan to the front pew, left side of the church. It was much more crowded than it had been the Sunday before. Becca looked at the program the usher had given her. A special welcome and prayer for the pastor had been added—and
A word from our pastor's wife, Becca Dillon . . . ?

Becca consulted Darla, an elder's wife who was seated nearby. She pointed to the program. “No one told me about that. What am I supposed to say?”

“You weren't told?” Darla said. “We thought it'd be nice if people heard from you. Just say you're glad to be here and looking forward to getting to know everybody.”