Page 117 of Dare to Hold
“You survived,” he says, voice low and warm.
I laugh, nodding. “Barely.”
He steps forward and opens the door for me, holding it wide as I step into the sharp morning air. The wind bites at my cheeks, but I’m not cold. Not with him standing beside me.
“Wanna grab breakfast?” he asks.
I start to smile but hesitate. The words have been sitting in my chest all morning, and I know if I don’t say them now, I’ll lose the nerve.
“Actually...” I pause, turning toward him. “Can I ask you something first?”
His brows pull together, instantly attentive. “Of course.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, heart thudding. “What does it mean to be saved?”
Gray’s face softens, and he doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me like he knows this moment is heavier than it sounds. Finally, he exhales, his voice low and steady.
“Being saved doesn’t mean you’ve got your life cleaned up and polished. It’s not about praying the perfect prayer or checking every box at church. It’s…realizing you can’t save yourself. That no amount of good deeds or pretending will fix the mess inside.”
He laces his fingers in mine as we walk down the steps toward our cars. “And then it’s trusting that Jesus already did what you couldn’t. That when He died and rose again, He carried every mistake, every failure, every sin—yours, mine, all of it. Being saved is saying, ‘I can’t do this, but You can. I’m Yours.’”
He pauses, eyes searching mine. “It’s surrender. But it’s also freedom. Because the second you belong to Him, you don’t have to keep carrying the weight of provingyourself. You’re already loved. Already forgiven. Already His.”
I swallow hard, throat tight. His words are simple, but they press into all the questions I’ve been holding close since Olivia’s offhand comments weeks ago—it’s like I’m waiting for something to click, and it never does. I want to believe—I do. But I also don’t want to pretend.
Gray must see the storm in my face, because he pulls me in for a hug. “It doesn’t mean you won’t wrestle. Or fall. Or wonder if you’re doing it right. It just means you’ve trusted the only One who can carry you through it. That’s what it means to be saved.”
I’m trying to make sense of the way those words tug at something deep inside me.
“But how?” I whisper. “How do you just…know you’re saved?”
His eyes don’t waver. “You stop trying to fix yourself. You stop pretending you can carry it all. And you trust that He already has. You give Him your mess, your sin, your heart—and you let Him make you new. You ask Jesus to be a part of your life…you surrender and give your life to Him.”
Let Him make you new.
The phrase presses into me like a gentle hand to the heart.
“Surrender,” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
Gray nods. “Exactly. That’s the whole point.”
The silence between us stretches. Full of things I’m still figuring out how to say. Full of truth I’m still learning how to believe.
Then he smiles again, gentle and familiar. “Now…how about some pancakes?”
I let out a breath, the corner of my mouth lifting. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
The little diner Gray takes me to is the same one we’ve been coming to for weeks now. Tucked away on the edge of downtown, its neon sign flickers slightly, casting a warm glow against the early morning haze. Maple & Main. It’s become our place—the kind of spot where the waitress knows our order before we even sit down and the smell of fresh coffee feels like home.
Gray holds the door open for me, nodding to the hostess as we walk inside. “Morning, Deborah,” he calls out.
She waves back with a grin. “Y’all want your usual booth?”
Gray glances at me, his hand brushing the small of my back. “Usual booth?” he asks with a smile.
I nod, smiling back. “You know I’m a creature of habit.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining.”
