by Jenn Faulk
~David~
Two hours later, he was finally back at his cottage, done with the whole event.
But his mind hadn’t been on the success of it all.
His mind had been on Camille, on the way she’d felt slighted by Tobias’s words and likely years of the same unfair assessments by the board and the church at large... and the way she’d bitten back.
Unfair, yes. Not that she’d been right to say what she had, but she’d had a point. David had watched in high school as boys much less capable than her had been asked to lead the group and how Cammie had sat by and had probably nursed some bitterness in her heart because of this.
To think that she felt this way about him, though, that she thought him less capable... well, it hurt. He was her friends’ goofy kid brother, yes, but he felt called here, called to this ministry, called to lead this team, and called, since he’d seen her in Tsumeb and welcomed her, to look out for her, protect her, and care for her as much as she would allow him.
Stupid David.
She didn’t need that or want that, likely. But it didn’t change who God had called him to be here.
Just as he was wondering how they would carry on with this between them, this irritation, this inequality of sorts, he got a text on his phone.
His first text from Camille, who had only just gotten her new Namibian phone that morning.
I’m sorry.
Before he could even text her back, she responded again.
I want to follow you as you follow Christ.
And David breathed a sigh of relief, all while feeling even more responsibility, hearing that such a capable, competent woman, ordained by Christ for the very same tasks that he was called to, was going to be looking to him as a leader.
He texted her back, praying even as he let his fingers move over the screen.
We’ll follow Him together, Camille.
Swakopmund