Page 25 of Dare to Hold
“That’s not a problem, Gray.”
I let the silence stretch, my gaze dropping to the church logo on the wall like it might give me courage.
“Yeah… maybe. Except—” I take a breath; the words heavier than I want them to be. “I don’t think she’s a Christian.”
Micah’s smirk fades. He sits forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locking on mine. “Ah. Okay. That’s different.”
I nod, the unease settling deeper. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t ask outright, but… I can tell. She didn’t grow up around it, never went to church. I invited her this Sunday, but…”
“But you’re already halfway in,” he finishes, his voice low but steady. “And you’ve been down that road before, you know it’s not easy.”
“I know.”
He leans back, exhaling through his nose. “Look, I’m not telling you to write her off. I’m saying you need to date intentionally. You know what happens when you get wrapped up in someone who isn’t walking the same road you are. You’ve lived it.”
I stare at my hands, jaw tight. “I know.”
Micah’s tone softens, though the weight of his words stays. “You’ve got a good thing going right now. God’s been doing work in you. Don’t compromise that—not even for someone who makes you smile like you’ve been smiling all morning.”
I huff out a laugh, more of a release than anything. “That obvious, huh?”
“Everyone noticed,” he says, cracking the faintest grin. Then, more seriously, “Just… guard your heart. And hers.”
He leans back against the leather. “And hey—this could be a good thing. You might be the one who helps lead her to Christ. That’s worth praying over.”
I nod slowly, but he’s not done.
“Also… don’t fall too hard too fast,” Micah adds, his tone gentler now. “I’ve seen guys get so wrapped up in the possibility that they miss the reality. Give God space to work. And give her space to figure out what she believes—without the pressure of it being about you.”
Before I can answer, a voice calls from down the hall, asking for Micah. He pats my shoulder as he stands. “I’ve gotta get back to prepping for youth night. You good?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning back as he heads off.
The lobby feels quieter without him, and I just sit there for a minute, staring at the wall.
I want to fall. Hard. Everything in me wants to lean into whatever this is with Ivy. But Micah’s words stick. Guard your heart. Give God space.
I close my eyes and bow my head.
Lord… if this isn’t from You, shut the door before I walk through it. But if it is, if Ivy is meant to be part of my life, let her be open when I share the Good News. Prepare her heart for worship and the message on Sunday. And give me the wisdom not to get in the way of what You’re doing.
When I open my eyes, the prayer lingers like a steady hum in my chest. Somewhere down the hall, the band’s still playing—slow and steady, voices weaving together. They never did pack up. The melody slips under my skin, guiding my thoughts back to her.
I picture Ivy stepping into this place for the first time. The way the lobby light will hit her hair. The way the sound will roll through the hall and find her, the same way it found me all those years ago when I stumbled in by accident. I pray she’ll feel that same pull—that same holy weight in her chest that won’t let her leave the same as she came in.
Eventually, I stand, sliding on my worn leather jacket and grabbing my bag. Out in the parking lot, the late afternoon sun’s warm on my face. I’m halfway to my truck when a few lines tumble into my head, uninvited.
I stop dead, fishing my phone from my pocket before the words vanish. Thumb tapping furiously, I get them down, just enough to remember later, before slipping the phone away.
Didn’t know then what You were starting
But You wrote it on my heart
The engine rumbles to life, and I can’t help the grin that creeps in. Goliath’s in for a treat tonight. Can’t wait to sing him this new part of the song.
Chapter 7
Ivy
