Page 69 of A Surefire Love
He cocked his head. “There are some things I can’t run around talking about. That’s the job, isn’t it? Surrounded, but not necessarily known?”
“I’m not talking about running around, talking carelessly. But isolation leads to a lot of unhappy pastors. Everyone needs confidants and accountability—friends in their corner.”
He wasn’t wrong. Anson could use more friends on the leadership board, but opening up about personal matters at this point would more likely draw fire than amass allies.
“Besides, a ministry is more effective when it’s not only theologically sound but also has a beating heart, don’t you think? How long’s it been since you shared a sermon onlyyoucould preach?”
Again with the heart stuff. Why did this keep coming up? “I just made a plan with my team to share my testimony.”
“Oh. Then I stand corrected. Keep following the Lord’sprompting. Sounds like He’s already showing you what to share and when.” He walked around his desk and turned on his computer. “Let me know how it goes.”
Taking the cue, Anson retreated into his own office. After he shut the door, he paused. The uneasiness stirring in his chest drew his eyes to the rough-hewn cross on the wall.
The Lord had poured His heart out for His people, and He had a right to ask Anson to do the same.
Am I holding too much back, Lord?
Given the current climate in the church, sharing too much with anyone—besides, perhaps, Blaze—would be like walking into combat without armor. As he stared at the cross, his uneasiness settled. His mission was to share God’s heart, and if he wanted to continue doing that, he couldn’t afford to be any more vulnerable than he already was.
26
On Tuesday, Anson looked from his clipboard to the players lined up along the bleachers. Their voices formed a low murmur, punctuated by occasional laughter or the squeak of a sneaker against the maple flooring. These forty boys would compete for the twenty-four spots available on Many Oaks High School’s basketball teams. Every player from last year’s varsity team, save for those who’d graduated, stood on the sideline with one exception: Carter.
A senior so invested in basketball normally would’ve been first in the gym, bent on intimidating the lower classmen and defending his position as the first-string power forward. If Carter didn’t show, Tommy Pine, who’d played on the JV team for two years, was primed to move up.
Anson slipped his phone from his pocket to check for messages from the senior. He found a text waiting for him, but it was from Blaze, confirming Friday for their date.
Even the excitement of that didn’t temper his concern over Carter’s tardiness.Where are you?he texted.
Coach Thierry blew his whistle and explained how the four days of tryouts would work. Then Anson stepped forward, introduced himself, and forced himself to focus on the students who’d shown up instead of the one who hadn’t.
On Wednesday, Carter missed tryouts again, still with no word. That officially disqualified him from the team. First the drinking, then the candle, and now this? Anson suspected Carter was dealing with something big, and he’d counted on having the basketball season to get to the bottom of it. Now that his only interaction with Carter would be at church, a lot more rode on his testimony.
After practice, Anson stopped home for dinner before continuing to Rooted. Following a similar lesson plan for both youth groups meant sharing his testimony with the younger kids would help him refine his talk before Branching Out.
Except, the closer the evening came to the lesson time, the tighter a fraying rope twisted in his gut. He sent a prayer heavenward as he took his place up front.
Blaze’s lips tipped up in an encouraging smile.
Mercy sat beside her, wide eyes blinking behind her thick glasses. Next came Hadley, who hadn’t made a decision for Christ yet. He wasn’t sure about some of the others.
As he looked at them, praying his story would help them, the room quieted. He peered at the timeline he’d jotted down to serve as his notes.
Greg had encouraged him to share about himself, and maybe his nerves proved just how overdue this was.
He eased into it with background about his decision to trust Christ as a child and discovering basketball in elementary school. When he mentioned how his dad’s job hadbrought their family to Many Oaks, Blaze flinched. She alone recognized what he’d omitted—Gury. His story had enough impactful elements without talking about his brother. At least, that’s what he decided when he wrote his timeline. He was too far into the story to second-guess that decision now.
“As a junior, I was offered a full-ride basketball scholarship by one of the best college teams in the country. Aside from my parents, my coach was my biggest supporter. He and his wife took me and my parents to dinner to celebrate. The food that night was amazing, but in retrospect, I wonder if what I tasted was the flavor of dreams coming true. I was on my way to playing professionally and beyond excited about it.”
Wonder glossed over some of the kids’ eyes.
“But it went to my head. My senior year, I was team captain. I believed I deserved to be, but the other guys didn’t respect me. It got so bad, one of my teammates and I almost came to blows over it.”
Hadley toyed with the long ends of her hair. One boy cringed. Another nodded.
“Coach Voss pulled me aside, and I couldn’t believeIwas the one in trouble. I argued I was doing everything right.” He raised his finger the way Coach had. “‘But your heart is wrong,’ he said. Since he knew I was a believer, he talked about how God values our hearts and is a lot more gracious and forgiving than I was being with my teammates. I learned a lot from Coach Voss, especially that year. He had a bunch of little sayings he repeated like, ‘responses trump reactions,’ and ‘go out trying.’ Those pop in my head and guide me to this day.”
A flood of bittersweet memories tightened his throat. He took a few extra beats, staring down at his notes before he trusted his voice. “But toward the end of the season, our entire team, myself included, was in an accident coming home from a game.” Flashes of chaos and darkness rippled behind his eyes. “Coach Voss died.”
