She let loose of his hand. “I don’t hold anything against you from the past, but I really don’t see any role you could play in my life going forward.”
He stared into her eyes as if recognizing what was there a moment before. “I understand. Just know that from where I stand, in my heart, that’s how I regard you . . . as a friend.”
His gaze lingered seconds more, then he turned and left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Friday, January 22
Becca could hear applause like thunder as the security detail led the Worth & Purpose speakers and musical artists along a back hallway that led to the arena. The lights had already dimmed, and the worship team had begun singing, which meant one thing—the kickoff to a new season of Worth & Purpose had begun.
The energy and enthusiasm had been palpable from the moment they’d met in the hotel lobby to be transported to the arena. Conference attendees staying at the same hotel had spotted the speakers and artists and rushed to say hello and take pictures. Becca had never seen anything like it. At the conferences at which she’d spoken, there was appreciation shown for the speakers, a picture here and there, but nothing near this level—these were Christian rock stars.
Becca had hung back a little, taking it all in. One woman was making the rounds, asking people to sign her Worth & Purpose shirt. She stopped when she got to Becca.
“Are you somebody?” she said.
Becca was taken aback. “I’m . . . a new speaker with Worth & Purpose, yes.”
“Oh, great.” She handed Becca the marker. “Then I’d love to have your autograph.”
Becca signed it, the first time she’d ever autographed anything, and a few others flocked her way at the implication that she must be one of them. There wasn’t time to sign anything more, though, as the head security guy ushered them toward the exit and on board their shuttle. That scene stayed with Becca the entire ride, even as she chatted with speakers and artists she’d admired for years from afar. She was “somebody” now. Soon she’d be recognized and bombarded immediately at these events.
They’d been sequestered so far in the arena, hanging out below in catering, then taking time to pray before the start of the conference. But now, as their heels clicked toward the main area, the energy level was rising again.
The security guy pulled back a curtain and they made their way through one of the entrances. Worship music pulsated through gigantic speakers, but Becca could still hear the elevated cheers and applause when people saw them. Those who would be speaking and singing this weekend made their way to a special seating section. Becca was directed to an area near the Worth & Purpose leadership and staff. She had a front-row seat.
She remained standing with the rest, and as the minutes went by she was amazed by the sight—thousands of women with arms raised. Tears came to her eyes.
Lord, this is such an amazing experience. I can hardly believe that I’m here, that I’m part of this. Thank You for allowing me an opportunity to speak to so many women who long to be in Your presence. Prepare my heart, O God, so that when I take the stage next week in Richmond, You’ll be glorified.
When worship ended, a video played on the big screens, one that introduced the speakers in a fun way. Becca had been added too late to be part of it. Wendy Burns was in it, the woman she’d replaced. Becca had heard her speak at one of these conferences before. She’d been with them four years, but there’d been rumors that another national women’s conference, For Such a Time, was trying to woo her away with a promise to make her their premier speaker. Becca knew it was useless to speculate, but in this setting speculation was running rampant. What if Wendy Burns had her baby and decided to stay home indefinitely to raise him or her? Or what if Wendy joined For Such a Time? Her departure could open up a spot on the team—a spot Becca could fill next year.
The first speaker, Christa Lane, took the stage after her intro. One of the conference stars who’d been with them almost from the beginning, she was in her late forties, with a beauty that captivated. Becca took in every detail, which was easy to do on the large screen. Christa wore black slacks with a blingy black tank, red leather jacket, and to-die-for black leather high-heeled boots. Her strawberry-blond hair was perfectly coiffed, just above the shoulders. And with every turn and flick of the wrist, her earrings, necklace, and bracelet glistened.
I need more bling, Becca thought. It shows up great in the lights. Actually, she needed more clothes. But she wouldn’t get her speaker’s fee until after next week, and it would be hard to convince Todd she should go shopping meanwhile, given the expense associated with their move. She’d get Janelle and Stephanie to come over and help her piece together something stage-worthy from her closet. But as soon as she got paid, she’d treat herself to something fabulous.
Christa had the audience laughing. She had that way about her, able to make people laugh one minute, cry the next. Becca watched how naturally she moved, how comfortable she seemed. That was one of her prayers, to be natural and comfortable on the platform.
Becca had her phone in her hand. She opened up Twitter and tweeted, Watching @ChristaLane at @WorthandPurpose kickoff conference. Always moved by her amazing gift.
Seconds later, Worth & Purpose retweeted Becca, which meant thousands of their followers saw it. And a minute later, her phone notified her that she’d been mentioned in a tweet. She looked at it.
Love getting to know @BeccaDillon, newest member of @WorthandPurpose speaker team.
It’d been tweeted by one of the other longtime speakers with the team. Having her endorsement, so to speak, melted Becca’s heart.
Thank You, Lord, that they’re making me feel like part of the team.
Becca retweeted for all of her followers to see, adding, Love getting to know u too!
The rest of the evening passed quickly, capped by a concert by Suzy Hill, an award-winning Christian recording artist who brought the house down. Tomorrow would be a full day of messages by other speakers as well as another concert.
The moment Suzy finished, security ushered out the Worth & Purpose team. They followed one another past the rows of women who had floor seats, many of whom smiled and waved at them, through the back hallways, and onto the waiting shuttle.
Becca took a seat near the front. On the way over she’d sat with a woman in the marketing department and got a kick out of learning that she was the one who operated the Twitter account. She looked up now, surprised by who’d joined her—Christa Lane.
“Your message was awesome tonight,” Becca said. “I never knew you battled eating disorders.”
“This is the first time I’m talking about it publicly,” Christa said. “I love that we get to share these intimate pieces of our lives, knowing it’ll help others be set free.”
“Loved your message, Christa,” a member of the worship team said as she boarded.
That sentiment was echoed a few more times at least.
Christa carried on a dialogue with others around them, at one point looking back at Becca. “So how are you feeling about giving your message next week? Nervous?”
“Uh, that’s fair.” Becca laughed. “Especially after seeing the stage up close tonight, and that jumbo screen.”
“You’ll do fine,” she said. “I’m always nervous too. Feeds the energy.”
“No way you were nervous up there.”
“Absolutely!”
“Well, there’s my prayer request. ‘Lord, help me to use the nervousness like Christa and not vomit it up in front of everyone.’ ”
Christa laughed. “I like you. So glad you’re part of our team. Oh, and I saw your tweet about me. Thank you. I started following you.”
“Hey, thanks.”
Becca didn’t want that to be a big deal to her, but it was. She’d seen Christa’s Twitter page. Over twenty thousand people followed her—including almost all Becca’s Twitter friends—but Christa only followed back about five hundred. That woman in the hotel lobby came to mind. Becca was s
omebody now—even to Christa Lane.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Saturday, January 23
I want all the little people to line up right here, shortest to tallest,” Stephanie said.
Daniel frowned at her. “I’m not little.”
Stephanie stood her five-foot-eight-inch frame next to him and looked down. “Uh-huh, back of the line.”
“Miss Stephanie, Ethan’s not doing it,” Claire said.
Stephanie bent low in front of him. “Ethan, I know you’re special in the following-directions department because you’re only two and a half, so I’ll help you.” She took his hand. “Right here, little man.” She walked him in front of Claire and stayed beside him.
“Okay, now . . . we’ll get our breakfast in an orderly manner, one at a time. Ethan’s first.”
Stephanie got a paper plate for him and picked him up so he could see the choices. “Ethan, would you like bacon?”
He nodded.
“Very good,” she said, putting a piece on the plate. “Eggs?”
He wrinkled up his nose, then shook his head firmly.
“No eggs?”
He shook it again.
“All right. Grits?”
He frowned.
“I don’t think he knows what that is,” Tiffany said.
Stephanie decided to go ahead and put some on his plate. She scooped some from the pot.
“No want that!”
She put the spoon back and lifted a piece of toast she’d buttered.
He shook his head again.
“One little piece of bacon and that’s it?”
“Fosty fakes!”
“Come again, little man?”
“He wants Frosted Flakes,” Claire said. “That’s all he ever wants.”
Stephanie looked at him. “I cook up all this good food, and all you want is some processed, partially hydrogenated junk that’s been on somebody’s shelf for months, if not years, and is probably one molecule away from a plastic bottle?”
He nodded.
“Well, amen, little man. Sounds good to me too.”
She took him over to the cabinet, glad to see they had a box, then got him a bowl.
“Claire, go ahead and get your plate, then Tiffany, then Daniel. I think I need to sit next to my friend here.”
They all got their food and took a place at the table.
“Can we get some juice?” Daniel said.
“What does your mom want you to drink?”
“Milk.”
“Then why you trying to play me? Get the milk.”
Moments later Janelle came in with her coat on. “Ooh, lookie here, everyone nice and settled at the table, quietly eating.”
“Take a picture because it won’t last,” Stephanie said. “You know it’s gonna get live in about three minutes.”
Janelle laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the diner Bible study with me? I’m sure Aunt Gladys would watch the kids.”
“I told Todd I’d watch Claire and Ethan while he went to his church meeting, so I’m good.” She chuckled. “Sent Lindell a text telling him I was watching four kids. He’ll wonder what’s come over me.”
“How’s he doing down there anyway?” Janelle asked.
“He said it’s hard to explain how devastating and heartbreaking it is, but at the same time exhilarating. Last night they set up their clinic in this tent encampment that had a strep outbreak and served over a hundred patients. Then this boy walks in with a machete wound to his hand.” Stephanie bent over to pick up Ethan’s sippy cup. “It’s really a life-changing experience for him. One more week and he’ll be back.”
“Which means one more week and you’ll be leaving us.” Janelle poked out her lip.
“Girl, I know. Time is flying. What y’all gonna do without me?”
“I’m sayin’!”
Janelle kissed Daniel and Tiffany on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t forget we’re going clothes shopping this afternoon.”
“Aw, Mom, do I have to?” Daniel said.
“Yes, you have to.”
Janelle looked at her watch. “Can’t believe I’m late.” She headed for the door. “Call me, Steph, if there’s any problem.”
“Will do,” Stephanie said. “Unless they’ve got me tied up.”
Janelle followed Lila into the diner and saw a cluster of women as they drew to the far section. “That’s not all for the Bible study, is it?”
Lila’s head nodded up and down. “I guess some of the women told others. It’s about double last week.”
The women were spread out at three tables pushed close together, with Sara Ann positioned near the center. They’d already ordered and received their food. Janelle tipped to the side with the crew from last week—Beverly, Allison, Trina, and Jessica. She gave them a wave as she sat down.
A woman at the next table over was sharing something with the group.
“So my friends are praying for me to get this job in Charlotte to work in marketing at a top hotel. And I’m telling them that I really believe God is going to open this door because it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. And sure enough, I get it. We celebrate, they help me move, I get settled. That was seven months ago.” The woman, probably in her twenties with long, wavy auburn hair, told the story in a way that held people’s attention. “And last week the guy calls me into his office and says he’s sorry, but I’m not cutting it.” She paused, sighed. “And here I am back in Hope Springs.”
“Wow, this just happened,” Sara Ann said. “How do you feel about it, Gina?”
Gina let out a breath. “It’s not the end of the world. The job wasn’t the easiest anyway, far as the people. A lot of ’em were uppity. God’s giving me grace and strength, and I know He’s got a good plan for me.”
“Gina,” Sara Ann said, “I’m not asking what promises you can claim. I’m asking how you feel. Because all this came out when I asked if anybody felt disappointed lately. You’re disappointed, right?”
Gina hesitated. “I’m disappointed, but I know God’ll—”
“Nope.” Sara Ann put up a hand, and in her way it was sweet, not off-putting. “Not gonna let you do it, Gina. I want you to sit and stay awhile in it. Are you disappointed?”
Janelle couldn’t believe how much more assured Sara Ann seemed this week.
Allison leaned over to the women near her and whispered, “Oh my gosh, this is for me.”
Emotion filled Gina’s eyes. “Yes. I’m disappointed.”
“Why?”
“Because I really wanted that job.”
“Why else?”
“Because I really wanted to get out of Hope Springs and now I’m back.” She was fighting to stay in control.
“Okay.” Sara Ann hadn’t moved her gaze. “Why else, Gina?”
“Because . . .” She looked aside, holding herself. Then, “I was believing God and praying and had my friends praying—and He answered. He could’ve made it so I knocked ’em dead on that job, but instead they sent me packing. Why? Why even answer the prayer if I’m just gonna fail? How do I get the faith to believe Him again?”
“Exactly.” Allison’s eyes were on the two women.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” someone else said.
Sara Ann acknowledged them all with a slow nod, then looked back to Gina. “Have you asked Him how you’re supposed to believe Him now?”
“No,” Gina said. “I’m supposed to have faith.”
“Who gives you the faith?”
Gina stared down for a moment, then looked back at Sara Ann. “God.”
“If He already knows you need faith, why not tell Him you’re struggling?” Sara Ann scanned the faces. “Why do we think something’s wrong with expressing our true feelings and lack of faith to God? We don’t have to try to hold it in and be strong around Him. He’s strong enough to let us break down and let it all out.” She smiled. “And He knows how to build us back up again.”
If it were possible, the time after the Bible study was even sweeter. Sara Ann had hopped back to work, but some of the women were slow to leave. The ones remaining had planted themselves at two tables, drinking refills of coffee. Since Janelle hadn’t eaten, she’d taken the opportunity to order hotcakes and sausage. Though many were meeting for the first time, the conversation had the tenor and liveliness of old friends.
“Any of you feel like you have to be the strong one all the time?” Bea, a Calvary member in her sixties, raised a hand to her own question. “I feel like I can’t be honest about the times I’m feeling low, not even to God.” She stared down at a psalm they’d been looking at. “But David had no problem venting to God. I want to learn to sit and stay awhile in my emotions, as Sara Ann put it.”
“Me too,” Allison said. “And at the same time not give up hope.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Gina said, “but I feel like Sara Ann took us on a digging expedition, to get all the stuff out that we didn’t want to admit was there. And when she prayed at the end for us to be filled with God’s grace and love and strength, ahhh . . . what an exchange.” She looked at her friend Mandy beside her. “I am so glad you brought me here today.”
Mandy had a sweet smile and bright-green eyes. “I wouldn’t have known about it if my great-aunt hadn’t told me.”
Bea nodded. “Vi told me too.” She looked across the table. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet over there, Vi.”
Janelle looked over at the other table. A petite older woman sat with them but didn’t comment.
Sara Ann came by with another fresh round of coffee. “You guys are still over here?” she said.
Vi cleared her throat. “Sara Ann, I’ve got something to say to you.”
Sara Ann set the pot on the table. “Yes, Miss Vi?”
“You know I’ve known you clear since you came to Hope Springs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“When I first heard about this Bible study you were doing, part of me thought it sounded good, which is why I told people. But part of me was just curious because for the life of me I couldn’t see you teaching the Bible.” Violet crossed her arms. “Well, you sure showed me.”
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