I roll my eyes at her. “I just don’t think—”
“Listen to me, Chloe. I can see it in his eyes when he’s talking to you. He obviously respects you a lot, as a musician, a Christian, and a good friend. But I think there’s something more too. I know that sounds kind of suspicious and slightly paranoid on my part, but I think it’s my responsibility to watch out for you, Chloe. And I don’t take that lightly. I mean I have no doubt that he’s being really careful and telling himself to watch it. And I respect him as a mature Christian, but I just wanted to warn you. Okay? And hopefully you two can keep this thing under control.”
“This thing?”
“Okay, let me cut to the chase, Chloe, because I want to be perfectly clear. As your chaperone and your friend, I do not want you to spend any time alone with Jeremy.”
“Oh, Caitlin.”
“I know, I know. I sound hopelessly old-fashioned and prudish. Tough. I am telling you that I do NOT want you spending any time alone with the young man. Do you understand me?”
I nod stupidly. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. I know the chances of something happening are pretty minimal. After all, you’re both strong Christians. But, you are both heading up some amazingly talented bands—bands with an incredible ministry for young people—and I’m sure that Satan doesn’t like that a bit. He’d love to destroy both Redemption and Iron Cross, and what better way to do it?”
“Seriously?”
“And let’s face it, Chloe, you’re both passionate and creative people, and only human. And there will be days when you could both be pretty tired or disenchanted or lonely. Don’t you see what I’m saying? Anyway, there’s no sense in setting yourself up for what could become a really serious and devastating problem.”
For the first time today, I seriously consider what she is actually saying to me. “Are you suggesting that you think it’s possible that Jeremy and I could become romantically involved with each other?”
“Of course that’s what I’m saying. Can you imagine the damage that would do to both of your bands and your ministries? This is the kind of thing that Satan could really have fun with.”
I nod now as some of this sinks in. “Okay, Caitlin. I guess I can understand your concern. And maybe it is legit. I just highly doubt that Jeremy has any intention of sweeping me into his arms and laying a big one on me—let alone anything else you may be thinking.”
“Then you are still a little naive.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“But you are also a dear girl, who I love like a sister and would do anything to protect.”
“Thanks.” And this time I mean it.
We talked a bit more, and Caitlin shared some of her various encounters with guys she had assumed were only friends and how easy it had been for someone to get the wrong message. “This is one of the reasons I still don’t date.”
I wanted to ask her if any of these stories involved my brother, but thought better of it. Everyone deserves a little privacy in some areas of their lives.
So tonight I’m still stewing over her little speech. I know she means well, but it sounds a little weird and slightly extreme to me. I mean, Jeremy is a good guy—a great guy—and he’d never let anything happen between us. At least I don’t think so. But then if I think about it too hard—and I’m trying not to do this—how would I really react if he did try something??? Now there’s a good question. And to be perfectly honest, I am not sure. It has occurred to me that I’m not positive I could even trust myself if Jeremy came on to me. Because I know how much I like him. Who knows, I might even encourage him and initiate something myself. Okay, I don’t really think I would do that, but on the other hand, things like physical attraction and hormones and chemicals are kind of unpredictable. And I know how deeply attracted I am to him. So I suppose there is a certain element of truth in Caitlin’s theory. And I must admit that’s pretty scary.
So whether Caitlin is right or all wet about Jeremy, I need to take her warning seriously for my own sake. And since I did promise her that I would never be alone with him again, I will adhere to that. And even if it is extreme and slightly paranoid, I have to ask myself, what’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t I rather be extreme and consequently avoid a pile of trouble than ignore my friend’s warning and fall straight into a pit?
WORD TO THE WISE
when spoken in love
a good friend’s word
brings health and life
when it is heard
counsel that’s good
and kind and wise
can open your heart
and open your eyes
help me to trust
in the friends You give
to know they are here
to help me to live
a life that is right
a life that is true
a life that can give
all the glory to You
amen
Seventeen
Wednesday, July 6
This past week has been amazing. Amazing in that we’re still functioning—because our schedule’s been totally grueling—and amazing in what God is doing in and through us. Praise Him!
We’ve done six concerts in seven days. I can’t even remember exactly where we were and when. But I do remember two days ago. We were performing with Iron Cross and several other Christian rock bands for a special Independence Day celebration in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. It was an all-day concert with thousands of kids in attendance. And let me tell you, it was totally awesome.
We had as much fun being part of the crowd as we did performing. Probably even more so. Just rocking out with sisters and brothers in Jesus. So totally cool.
Then after it got dark, they had this humon-gous fireworks show, followed by an incredible worship time that I’ll never forget. It was like a taste of heaven.
“I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this,” Caitlin said as we rode in the limousine back to the hotel.
Beanie sighed. “I know what you mean.”
“But you guys are both working hard,” I reminded them.
“Maybe,” said Beanie. “But not nearly as hard as you guys are.”
“Hey, today wasn’t so bad,” said Allie. “It almost felt like a day off to me.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I could handle lots of days like today.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” said Caitlin. “Your schedule for next week is just as full as it was last week.”
“But at least we get tomorrow off,” Laura reminded everyone. “And I plan to sleep in until noon.”
“As long as you make practice, you can sleep all day,” I told her.
“NO,” said Caitlin. “Remember, we’re trying to stay balanced. Laura can sleep in, but then she needs to get going.”
Laura groaned. “You know, Caitlin, when you’re done being our chaperone, you could probably get a job being an army sergeant.”
“Yeah,” said Allie. “I hear they’re still recruiting.”
Fortunately, Caitlin has gotten used to our ribbing her. And she’s a good sport. Just the same, she is doing her best to keep us on track and balanced. For which we should be thankful.
GOD’S ARMY
we’re marching for Him
and doing our part
our battle to win
we follow His heart
and though it gets tough
with enemy fire
even when it is rough
our spirits won’t tire
until we are done
and victory waits
the battle is won
we’re at heaven’s gates
cm
Sunday, July 31
Well, our marathon is more than half over. I can’t believe I haven’t written in my diary for so long-weeks even! But that’s only because time is so precious. And here is how we spend it. We eat, sleep, practice, and perform. And then we do it all over again …again and again. Okay, I realize some people p
robably think that being in a rock band is glamorous and fun and exciting, but it’s really mostly a lot of hard work. It’s a demanding and seemingly endless job being on a concert tour. And even after you’re done with your performance, and it’s getting late, and you’re tired, and all you can think about is finding a soft bed and being able to just sleep for about a week, it’s time to meet the fans and sign autographs.
Even though I’ve gotten lots better about talking to fans, I still get weary and I suppose a little grouchy. When I’m really tired I can handle talking to someone who’s hungry for God and wants to ask an important question. Like the girl last night.
“Hi, I’m Amy,” she told me with a shy smile. She looked to be about my age, but very petite and sort of fragile looking.
Then as I signed her CD she asked me if she could ask me a question. Now, I was thinking “that’s polite.” And of course, I said yes.
“Well, I don’t really like to talk about this, but I have leukemia.”
That’s when I noticed that the cool-looking bandanna around her head was actually covering up where her hair used to be.
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
“No, that’s okay. I’m pretty much used to it. And I realize that everyone has to die sometime.” She paused and pressed her lips together, and I silently prayed that God would give me some sort of amazing words of encouragement, but mostly I just felt brain-dead.
“Anyway, I totally love your first CD. I listen to it all the time, especially the heaven song—sometimes I play that one over and over. It’s so encouraging. And, well, I was wondering, how did you write that song? I mean, did you just make it all up? Or do you think God inspired you? Or what?”
I had to really think about that. I mean, I wrote that song a long time ago. But suddenly it all came back. “You know what, Amy? I wrote that song in the middle of the night almost two years ago. And I was having this dream that seemed so real. It was about heaven, or that’s what it seemed like to me. Anyway, I got up in the middle of the night and wrote down those words, which later became the lyrics to the heaven song.”
“So, do you think God gave you that dream?”
“I guess I do. I mean, I don’t really try to figure out where everything I write is coming from. I mostly hope it’s from God, but then it seems kind of presumptuous on my part just to assume that everything coming down the pike is from God, you know what I mean?”
“But when I listen to your music, it feels like God is speaking to me.”
“I know, and when I write lyrics and poems, it really does feel like God is speaking to me too. Still, I hate acting like I’m some sort of prophetess or something. I guess I just write what’s on my heart.”
“But do you believe God could be speaking to me through your music? I mean, me personally?”
I smiled and reached for her hand. Giving it a squeeze, I said, “God spoke through a donkey in the Old Testament. I’m sure He could speak to you through me now.”
She laughed. “Yeah. I thought so too.”
“But we can weigh these things, Amy,” I continued. “Like when we believe God’s speaking to us through someone, we can go to His Word and see if it lines up with what we’ve heard. And then there’s prayer too. God’s spirit can give us a sense about things.”
“Yes, that’s what my pastor says too.” She smiled. “But I do believe God speaks through your music, Chloe.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed her hand. “I’ll be praying for you, Amy.”
She nodded. “And I still believe that God could do a miracle if He wants. But I’ve just finished my last chemo, and it hasn’t really worked. I wasn’t even supposed to come here tonight, but I begged my mom.” She glanced over her shoulder to where a middle-aged woman was waiting. I could tell by the look on her face that she was Amy’s mother. And I could tell that she knew Amy didn’t have long to live. I looked back at Amy, then gave her a big hug.
“I’m so glad you came tonight,” I told her. “I think God is using you to speak to me. And in fact, I’m feeling inspired to write a song about our conversation tonight. Would you mind?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Seriously? You’re going to write a song about me?”
I nodded. “The words are already swirling around in my head. If you give me your address, I’ll send it to you when I’m done.”
So she quickly wrote down her address, which I pocketed, and we hugged again and I promised to be in touch.
Thankfully, my tears managed to stay in my eyes until she had gone, and the next girl in line didn’t even seem to notice. Instead, she complained about how long it had taken to stand in line to get my stupid autograph, and that it was really for her little sister who was at summer camp, and she was only getting it because her mom wouldn’t have let her come otherwise. “I’m not even into chick bands,” she said, like that was her final insult. “The only reason I came tonight was to see Iron Cross. That Isaiah Baxter is so hot.”
Well, it was all I could do not to write something mean and nasty in her stupid blue book, but then I reminded myself it was for her little sister. Besides, it probably wouldn’t have seemed very Christlike to have used a four-letter word. Even if it was JERK.
So there you have it—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Amy was the good, the impatient fan was the bad, and I suppose I was the ugly when I wanted to smack her in the nose. Well, I never said I was perfect.
AMY’S SONG
a wisp of a girl
she stood in line
with clear blue eyes
that saw through mine
and when i looked
into her face
heaven was there
mercy and grace
although young
her soul was old
she’d been through fire
like burnished gold
i saw my Lord
i saw His touch
upon this child
He loves so much
and that is when
i realized
that Amy has
heaven’s eyes
cm
Eighteen
Friday, August 12
I’m afraid I’ve blown it. Really, really blown it. I know I need to tell someone, and I will, but it’s late right now and everyone but God is in bed. And I’ve already told God that I’m sorry, but He’s not saying much. So for now, it seems I’ll have to bear this burden alone.
I can make lots of excuses, all kinds of excuses. Like this concert tour is too long and hard and demanding, like I’m human and under a lot of stress, like I’m only seventeen and trying to take on the responsibilities of an adult, like I’m tired of being a Christian role model for thousands of girls who make mistakes like this all the time. And all my excuses sound good and believable. At least to me.
Caitlin warned me to watch myself and my relationship with Jeremy. And mostly I have. Oh, I still talk to him and we compare notes on songs and stuff. But I’ve made a special effort not to put myself in any “compromising” situation with him—as in we don’t hang out just the two of us. I was almost beginning to think that we had some sort of unspoken agreement, although we never discussed this. That would be too stupid. Because really, I never thought Jeremy would do anything. He is, after all, Jeremy Baxter, lead singer for the number one Christian rock band in the country. He’s won music awards and performed around the world. Why would he: 1) want to jeopardize that by getting involved with a seventeen-year-old? or 2) have any romantic interest in me in the first place? The whole idea seemed preposterous.
And the more time that went past, the more I thought that Caitlin was just being one of those paranoid Christians who thinks everything is scary and evil. Oh, I’m exaggerating there, she’s not really like that. I guess I just thought, “Hey, I’m Chloe Miller, I’m in control, and I’m above doing anything stupid, anything that would risk our reputation or the tour.” I suppose it was a case of pride getting the upper hand. You’d think I’d know better.
But back to my excuses, there’s someone else I could blame just a little. (I know this is a silly game, but I need to play it just now.) Beanie has been slowly changing my image from grunge girl to urban sophisticate. And since everyone says it’s an improvement, I’ve been playing along. The result of this is that I look a little more like a girl. I don’t get away with wearing cargo pants and T-shirts and Doc Martens all the time. “Your uniform,” as Allie used to say.
And they’ve all encouraged me to let my hair grow out, and it now reaches to my shoulders and looks kind of shaggy and cool. And okay, I’ll go so far as to say that I’m looking pretty good this summer. I’m not a beauty, but as Beanie says, “You’re growing into your looks.” Well, whatever. But this probably has given me a little more confidence when it comes to guys. Because I’ve noticed that guys pay more attention to me than they used to—I mean, besides the music part of my life. I get plenty of attention in that arena.
Oh, I’m sure I could go on and on and keep this up until morning without ever really putting down here what happened. And my whole point in writing this down was to make myself better. I think that when I see what happened in black and white (okay, purple and white since that’s my ink color tonight) I’ll see that it’s not really so bad. Not the end of the world as we know it. And maybe I can even just quietly sweep the whole thing under the rug, pretend it never happened, and return to life as normal. Okay, I realize I’ll need to talk to Jeremy about it and make sure that it never happens again. But I can do that. I must do that.
So here’s what happened. We’d just finished our concert (the first one we’d done with Iron Cross in a week), and the lingering group of groupies had dwindled to about a dozen or so, mostly girls wanting to get signatures from the guys, although Allie and Laura were chattering away with several too, and I realized this could still go on for another thirty minutes. Anyway, feeling totally beat and useless, I slipped backstage to where I’d earlier spotted a couch that looked to be about a hundred years old. And I thought I’d just take a quick nap. No biggie. I’d barely stretched out on it when I heard footsteps and looked up to see Jeremy. Again, no biggie. We all know our way around the back of a stage by now.
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