Happily Ever After

by Jenn Faulk

~David~

  The presentation went well.

  David could imagine poor Piet holding his bleeding ears half a world away as Camille used her very poor Afrikaans to make the jokes they’d planned out.

  “Buy a donkey, David, for that great introduction,” she’d said as he told the big room full of Texans just exactly how Cammie had found her way to Namibia, after zigzagging her way through continents.

  “What kind of donkey should I buy?” he asked. “They have a wide range of them in Namibia.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” she’d deadpanned, then laughed, her real laugh. “No, you see, that’s Afrikaans. Baie dankie. It means thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, David here is fluent after three years, after building a youth ministry from the ground up, and after being the board’s representative to Namibia.”

  “And it won’t end there,” he said. “They’ve got us on a plane going back tomorrow, right?”

  “Before we can even get adjusted to the time difference,” she said, grinning.

  They’d gone on to be serious, to take turns telling stories about their students, about the church they’d established, and about what the future looked like in Namibia.

  David had been glad to see the interest there, letting his eyes roam right past his family’s table, trying to focus on what he was here to do. Share about Namibia. You’re more than Paul Connor’s son. God has led you to this place right now to bring Him glory.

  He knew that. He knew it fundamentally because he knew that about God. He knew it even though things were difficult right now because Cammie had prayed it over him, even as she’d helped pin the microphone on him.

  She was so cute, grinning and entertaining the audience, charming them even as she gave them a true picture of what life was like on the mission field. As David watched the crowd, he thought about how right Kait had been. The Texas delegation was eating this up – the attractive, young couple talking about Africa.

  They concluded their presentation just as Paul Connor stood to say a few words himself.

  Of course.

  This was why they were here. Show the happy people, the very important happy people, how wonderful Paul Connor is, how he’s got the whole world in his hands practically, and how he can lead the convention.

  “Well, glory, y’all,” Paul said, taking the handheld microphone at the front of the room while looking over at his son. “I feel like we’ve all just taken ourselves a little trip to Africa, don’t you?”

  His words were followed by applause, a few amens, and many appreciative looks and smiles. David smiled back, having played this game his whole life, standing next to the man in charge, knowing how to look good in front of an audience.

  So did his sisters, he noted, as he looked out to see them doing the very same thing at the family table.

  Growing up had not spared them from this.

  They would be doing this for the rest of their lives. Or the rest of Paul’s life. But even then, there would likely be libraries dedicated in his name, seminary buildings to hang his portrait, and New Life-Dallas to include him in their list of saints of the faith.

  Even death would not be able to keep a hold on Paul Connor and his legacy.

  Paul seemed to know it, even as he beamed at the audience, watching them hang on every word he uttered.

  “David here,” he said, with his hand on his son’s shoulder, “is my only son. If you didn’t know that.”

  Miraculously enough, there were a few gathered who didn’t know it, as evidenced by the gasps and murmurs that followed.

  “And I tell you,” he said, great severity on his face, “that it is a sacrifice of the highest order, that God has ever called his mama and me to make, to relinquish him over to the Lord, for His purposes overseas.”

  Oh, glory. Paul Connor was making David’s call to the mission field his own personal cross to bear. Or his sacrifice to the Lord. Take your pick.

  David barely refrained from saying, “Wow, Dad,” right out loud.

  “But we do it,” Paul said adamantly, continuing to take it just as far as he could, “as unto the Lord. And He’s glorified through it. And I believe that He has even bigger things for my son. As he’s been faithful in these things, God’s just gonna lead him on to bigger things.”

  David knew just exactly what his father was thinking, easily guessing what “bigger things” Paul had in mind.

  “And this sweet gal here,” Paul said, looking over at Cammie.

  David could only imagine how the term “gal” had Cammie cringing even as she did a great job of keeping a smile plastered on her face.

  “I’ve known her since she was knee-high to a grasshopper,” he said, grinning. “Her daddy was a deacon, and her mama was a Sunday school teacher. And little Cammie here was always with them, learning about Jesus right alongside them. Then, she met our family and grew up with my own children. I baptized her myself. And all these years later, it feels like Cammie is part of the family. Like she’s my own daughter. Like this gal is going to give birth to my grandchildren some day. Right, David?”

  Oh, mercy.

  David didn’t even chance a glance over at Cammie, certain that she was blushing, remembering all that had gone on in the green room.

  “So, you’ll excuse me,” Paul said, affecting great emotion here, “if I get a little choked up hearing about the great purposes of God. Because He makes it personal, doesn’t He? He calls us, He equips us, and He makes of us the workers He sends out into the field. And I’m proud.” Here, he slapped David on the back again. “I’m so proud that my son is part of God’s great work.”

  And with that, mercifully, Paul bowed his head to pray, saving them all from standing here any longer and playing the game.