Page 10 of To Believe In You
None. But the God who starred in this talk wasn’t done with him, and if these kids turned to the Lord now, they could avoid years of regret later.
As he gathered his thoughts for his closing, he noticed a familiar man standing at the back of the small theater.
Tim.
Lina hadn’t replied to Matt’s joke of a résumé, presumably because the video of him in the skid steer had gone viral with the caption, “Look what Awestruck’s former bassist Matt Visser is up to now.”
Most of the commenters had appreciated his talent and ingenuity, but Lina? He suspected she’d take as dark of a view of that as Baxter had.
Anyway. He had a job to do here and now.
He stepped away from the podium and made purposeful eye contact with some of the teens as he continued. “The day I found my best friend, August Peltier, dead of an overdose, I realized the things I was using to make myself feel better would eventually kill me. The Bible says sin leads to death—not only the physical kind, but eternal separation from God. Thankfully, God offers an alternative through Jesus Christ. Eternal life. A life that can start right now, today. A life that leads to the peace, meaning, and joy I was desperate for.”
With another few lines, he wrapped up his talk, then circled back to grab his notes—why did he even bother bringing them anymore?—before taking a seat off to the side.
As the youth pastor who’d recruited him for this talk took the podium for closing remarks, Tim dropped into the neighboring seat. He tilted his head, checking out the panther tattoo. Must not have passed muster because Tim smirked as he focused forward.
* * *
An hour later,Matt and Tim settled in a booth at a twenty-four-hour pancake restaurant.
Matt glanced at the menu, noted the French toast, and placed the laminated booklet on the edge of the table. “What’d you think?”
Tim flipped his menu closed and focused on Matt. “How much do you make off a gig like that?”
Of course the guy went right for the bottom line, dashing Matt’s hopes that Tim had found him at the theater out of curiosity about Christ. Or maybe he was hiding behind a conversation about money.
Last spring, Tim had enrolled his daughter in a Christian boarding school, and when Tim and Matt had reconnected this summer, the manager had asked some questions about faith.
But Gannon and John had been witnessing to Tim for years. Listening to Matt’s weak testimony wouldn’t break through after everything else had failed.
“I always speak for free,” he admitted.
“Free?” Tim scoffed. “You should get an agent. Book speaking engagements. You could make a mint.”
“I’m trying to pay for my mistakes, not profit off them.”
“Yeah? How’s that going?” Tim’s gray-blue eyes flashed with amusement.
He probably knew Matt had been fired because of Baxter, since he kept tabs on his clients to head off scandals and roadblocks. Not that Matt was a client, but when Matt had reached out to make amends with Awestruck this summer, Tim had become his biggest fan. He’d been pushing Matt to write and sell other songs. Those aspirations must’ve led the manager to start keeping tabs.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tim chuckled. “You don’t need that job.”
The one for Visser Landscaping or as a professional speaker? Before he could ask, Tim continued.
“The fact that you’re a fanatic now will work in our favor. You’ll fit in better with Gannon and John.”
Did he mean a religious fanatic? Gannon and John had once seemed fanatical about their beliefs to him, too, but Matt’s still-young faith didn’t compare with the battle-tested beliefs of his former friends.
“I gave them the song, and I’m grateful you helped make that possible, but my story with Awestruck ends there.” The lyrics and melody of “Whirlwinds” had fallen in his lap one day, not long after he’d started praying for a way to make things right with the bandmates he’d failed. He’d fleshed it out into a full song and gifted it to Awestruck.
Since, he’d thought of a few bars here and there, but nothing came of them.
A waiter stopped by for their orders. Once the menus were cleared, Tim gave his rattling silverware a pointed look.
Matt froze the foot he’d been jiggling, and the utensils stilled. “They don’t want anything else from me, and I’m not looking to get back into that world.”
Too easy to let himself and everyone else down.
