Page 86 of A Surefire Love
Eric lowered his list and looked at Anson like he’d suggested meeting on Neptune. “We won’t be worshiping in a bar.”
“It’s a full-service restaurant with an event hall. They serve alcohol, but so does the hotel on your list. As a bonus, Many Oaks residents are already familiar with The Depot. People who’ve been interested but intimidated by the church building might give us a try.” He scanned the room, praying his enthusiasm would catch. “This could turn into a chance to build more of a presence in the community.”
Greg nodded. “It’s worth considering.”
“All in favor of The Depot?” Eric surveyed the others.
Anson, Greg, and Ed raised their hands. One shy of a majority.
“Then I’ll make calls to the theaters and hotel for price quotes and availability.” Eric put the list back on the table. “Perhaps someone can even make space for us as soon as tomorrow.”
Greg shifted in his seat. “I finished the sermon on Thursday, but have you considered the other logistics? The worship team, especially, would have their work cut out for them. I’m not sure how many of their instruments were in the church. The sound system certainly was.”
“The Depot has a piano.” Anson spoke without thinking. Eric bristled, but Anson had already opened his mouth, so he might as well finish. “Philip must own a couple of guitars, and they have a sound system that’s already up and running.”
Eric took a deep breath. “For once, could you accept something this board has voted into place?”
Heat flashed over Anson’s face, but he held still, waiting for Eric to backpedal.
Instead, he leaned over the coffee table and jabbed his finger as close to Anson’s face as he could get without rising. “If you’d done your job, this wouldn’t even be an issue. You failed to prevent a student from accessing the building. You failed to notify the police of a break-in. And, by your own admission, you were in the building shortly before the fire broke out.”
Anson pushed his sleeves up and prayed for self-control. “I was in the building looking for a student—assuming it was one—but I didn’t see, smell, orstarta fire.”
“Maybe not, but it’s time Many Oaks Bible Church asks more of its youth pastor thannotstarting fires. I’m incredibly sorry I let things get this far before calling for this vote.” Eric straightened his shirt cuffs. “It’s time we face reality. Attendance and giving are bound to go down more than they have already, and we’re facing extra expenses. Having a youthpastor on staff hasn’t strengthened our church as a whole or our floundering youth groups. As small as our youth ministries are, we don’t need the expense of another salary when those funds could be used toward more pressing needs. I move that we eliminate the position of youth pastor and allow volunteers to run the programs.”
Mike lifted two fingers. “Second.”
Ironic that now they’d follow the rules of order.
“Hold on now.” Greg’s normally reserved voice was gruff. “I deeply appreciate Anson as a partner in pastoring the church. Volunteers cannot preach every third and fifth Sunday. They cannot counsel parents and students in difficult situations the way he does.”
“I work forty-five hours each week,” Anson said. “Sometimes more. I’m always on call. Pastoring is an entire lifestyle, and volunteers don’t have the capacity, training, or experience to do it.”
“They don’t have to,” Eric said. “If the volunteers follow our suggestion of less teaching and more time hanging out with the kids, not only will it increase attendance, it’ll cut down on preparation time.”
“Even fun events take planning,” Anson said.
Eric held up a hand. “You’re not an unbiased observer. This will be the board’s decision. However, since you’re here, go ahead and make a statement before you leave us to deliberate.” He waved his hand, as if giving him the opportunity to beg for his job was a favor.
Anson had known this was a possibility, but he’d underestimated how painful it’d be to have his life’s work on the chopping block. What was God doing?
His hands shook as faces flashed through his mind—Coach Voss, Gury, Carter, Dylan, Mercy, Hadley. He grippedhis knees. How was he supposed to persuade the board on no sleep, with the deck stacked against him?
His own words to Carter just minutes before came back to him. God could come through when it seemed too late. Anson believed God had more for him to do in Many Oaks, so he chose to trust that the Lord would control the outcome. “My belief in the importance of youth ministry started before I moved to Many Oaks, when a high school student died.”
He hesitated. Blaze had encouraged him to share the story of Gury. He’d appreciated knowing her full story, and perhaps the fact that he’d lost a brother was meant to be shared as well. But if he broke his silence now, they’d question why he’d kept the secret so long. At best, it’d look like a play for sympathy.
“Once I got here, I watched Coach Voss help a lot of hurting kids, myself included. If the student who’d died …”
The words sliced like a betrayal, demoting his brother from his rightful title. Anson tried again. “If Gury had had someone like Coach in his life, he might’ve made different choices. He might still be alive. Losing Coach showed me again that none of us know how long we have before we face eternity. I felt very clearly called to pick up where he’d left off as best I could.
“I sacrificed a promising basketball career, got a degree, and came back to continue his legacy. My work at Many Oaks Bible Church isn’t done. Being faithful might not mean the numbers we’d all like to see, but Greg said it—church is about relationships. God will provide for our needs. He’ll provide a place to meet. He’ll provide the funding. It’s our job to value and pursue the things He values.”
Greg nodded.
Anson wanted to circle back, to expand on some of the points he’d made, but lobbying to persuade them would be as useless as trying to win an Internet debate. Either God already had enough board members on Anson’s side, He’d change their hearts during the debate that would follow, or Anson had seriously misunderstood his calling.
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