by Jenn Faulk
~David~
This is what it came down to.
David Connor. On the platform. Before the convention. A Bible in his hands.
Of all the places and situations he never would have imagined ending up, this was at the top of the list. It had never been his ambition to be here, never been his dream to stand where he was standing, and never been his goal to do this.
But life was like this sometimes, ending up somewhere you didn’t plan, being given to a task that didn’t seem to rightfully be yours.
Still good. There was still good in this. Because God was still good, and no matter what had been shaken today, the truth of who He was remained.
David looked down at the Bible on his lap, even as the convention man made introductions. He thought about his own faith, about how he’d found his significance in Christ and what He’d done. No matter what happened here or in Namibia, that truth remained. Even if his own father rejected him as he had done again and again, he still had significance in what Jesus had claimed and owned by His blood on the cross.
He was in Christ. And if he had nothing else ever in all the world, he had it all still, because he belonged to Jesus.
This was the truth.
This was who he was.
And it was enough.
As every eye in the room turned to him as he stood and took his place behind the pulpit, David Connor sent up a thankful prayer for this, even as he opened his Bible and opened his mouth to preach.