Page 27 of With All My Heart, Joy

“Shall I expect a fully decorated Christmas tree in your office next time?”

Just as she hoped it would, his laugh rumbled into the room. “Don’t get carried away. The heavens aren’t falling just yet. But, for you…” He stopped abruptly and pressed his lips together. Was his neck turning red?

The way he looked at her today was…different. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, though. It actually made her feel even more comforted than usual.

“Anyway.” He gave one clap of his hands. “Down to business. First question, did you talk with Ben?”

Joy rolled her head to the side. She’d hadsomany opportunities. Prime example, when Ben approached her after the tree was decorated and asked how she was doing. When she refused to answer, he asked with a mix of anger and hurt,What’s your deal with me, Joy?

“I didn’t,” she said wearily. “I could have, but…”

“That’s okay. Maybe you should start with your parents instead.”

Not happening. Her parents loved her, she knew that. They were good people. They were incapable of not loving their enemy, let alone their flesh and blood. But their love didn’t change the fact that they hadn’t planned her, hadn’t wanted her, and had suffered for having her. They would never admit it if they did feel they would have been better off without her.

“I don’t think so.” She lifted her chin stubbornly. His chuckle surprised her.

“Okay, okay. Let’s talk about your purpose.”

She scrunched her nose. “Do we have to?”

“That was your homework last time.”

“Give me an F.”

He was trying hard not to smile. “Someone has a bad attitude today.”

She threw her hands in the air and slumped down in the chair. “I have no idea what my purpose is, Mr. Miller. No freaking clue.”

He let silence hang a while before speaking. “Is influencing your purpose?”

Her answer was supposed to be yes. But as she thought of the constant stress of living up to her persona, she couldn’t form the answer. “I don’t know what else I would do,” she finally said.

“I know you’ve worked insanely hard for this, but there are times in life when we reach a crossroads. We realize what we want now isn’t what we always thought it was.”

Painful words to hear. Joy closed her eyes, wishing to block out his wonderful voice speaking such hard truth. She knew he was right, but she didn’t want him to be. She’d workedsohard. So many sleepless nights in college to keep up with both classesandcontent. And it had worked. It had paid off. She was there. She had arisen. She was at a point where influencing was her job. It paid the bills. It supported her.

For now.

It could all crumble around her at any moment. If a scandal broke. If her viewers realized how frail, how fragile she was. How fake.

She was exhausted by the pressure. But it was also the only thing that made her feel like she mattered.

“I think you need to take some time to consider if you are at such a crossroads,” Mr. Miller said. “In the meantime, to give yourself breathing room, is there a particular channel you can cut back on? I’ll confess I looked up your accounts during my vacation, and they are excellent. Every single one. I know I’m asking the impossible.”

He’d taken time off the clock to look up her channels? That didn’t sound typical for a counselor. But it made her feel warm all over. “What did you think?” She leaned forward, craving his honest answer.

He seemed to weigh his words with care. “I think you are gifted with public presentation, and I can see why your channels are successful.”

A diplomatic answer, but she knew he meant it. “Thank you. I wish I could take a break from Joy Lives Life, but that’s my biggest income. I’ll consider slowing down Craft My Life. As I said, I enjoy Glow with Joy, the beauty channel. As for the devotionals…” Her voice wobbled, and she tried to blink away the tears that formed without notice.

“Can we talk about that?” His voice, his oh-so-comforting voice, wrapped around her. “What’s your spiritual life like?”

She wept then, covering her face with both hands. “I don’t want to talk about that. Anything but that.” As her cries filled the room, she sensed that he had drawn nearer. She lifted her head and found him standing in front of her, the trusty tissue box in his hands. His face was empathetic, dark brown eyes full of care as they gazed at her. She’d never been a fan of beards, but he wore his thick, dark brown beard well. It covered most of his cheeks and all of his jawline, giving him a deeply masculine appeal. It was well-trimmed, but not closely cut like Silas’s sophisticated facial hair.

Why was she staring at his beard? Joy’s face became warm as she jerked her gaze away and grabbed the offered facial tissues.

“I need you to be honest with me if I’m going to give you the most help, Joy. The lack of purpose you feel may be directly tied to your spiritual difficulties.”

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