Cherished

twenty-seven





BRIAN WAS SURPRISED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE progressing. With Romeo in town, he was sure Kelli would be distracted and want to cut short the session. Instead they started early and had been on a roll, so much so that Kelli had called Cyd and Heather to ask if they could delay the start of Bible study by an hour.

They’d finished the love letters to young men and women and were well on their way with another—one to “the least of these,” people devastated by natural disasters. This one was Brian’s idea. He’d been rocked by images of Haiti after the earthquake hit, but school obligations had made it hard to respond in a tangible way.

He paused his work on the song to look over at Kelli, who was piecing together a melody at her keyboard—a welcome addition to the studio. She’d decided to keep it, with strong encouragement from her family and Brian. He loved watching her in her element—totally engrossed, creating. Today she reminded him of the high-school Kelli, hair clipped in the back of her head, pieces falling down, face free of makeup, wearing a plain shirt, walking shorts, and flip-flops. She was beautiful.

Kelli paused her playing. “Forgot to tell you,” she said. “I’m thinking through an idea for the love letter to our baby.”

His heart skipped. That song was such a part of him. “What are you thinking?”

“Your album releases about the same time the Choices ministry kicks off, and we’re looking to feature a story for the Choices video. In my mind’s eye, I can see you telling your story, with lighting that coincides with the mood. For example, your face would be partially hidden in shadow as you share the choices you made.” She used her hands to illustrate. “The scene would switch throughout from you to actors who dramatize what you’re sharing, but we’d still hear your voice. Near the end, as you share what God did in your heart and the mercy you found, the light will get brighter and ‘I Will Love You’ will play. I see a burst of blue sky, the redemptive nature of the story shining.”

Brian could see it too as Kelli spoke. The thought of telling his story still brought some trepidation, but what she described stirred his heart. “So you’re thinking we’d film the video and use it for the Choices ministry?”

“Right. We can put it on the ministry’s website and also on your website, YouTube, and elsewhere. I’ll talk to Doug to make sure there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Brian chewed his lip, nodding. “I like the Choices framework. I’d start the story at the innocence of our friendship, then the choice to go down an intimate path.” He looked away for a moment, then at her again. “You were right, Kelli. We should’ve stayed best friends, nothing more. Then I wouldn’t have had an opportunity to hurt you like I did.”

Kelli only stared at him, their eyes conveying the history in their souls.

“And then,” he continued, “we’d take it through to that final choice I made to walk away from you and our baby.” He closed his eyes. Every time he thought he’d felt the last of that pain, it came roaring back again.

Kelli got up and walked over to him. “That wasn’t the final choice, Brian. That’s not where the video will end. The final choice was turning back to God.”

He looked up at her, flicking a tear from his eye. His head fell again.

“I haven’t said this yet, Brian, but I forgive you. I do. I forgive you.”

A dam broke in his soul and rivers gushed forth, of mercy and even joy. If he and Kelli never had anything more, her forgiveness was a treasure he could hold on to. He stood, and she allowed him to hold her as he wept into her hair. “I’m sorry, Kel. I’m so sorry.”

“Brian, I know. You don’t have to keep saying it. I forgive you.”

“I just wish I had treated you like you deserved to be treated, of supreme value. You know? I wish I had cherished you.”

The word traveled from his mouth to the depths of his heart to a loading zone in his brain as he tried to grasp it—cherished. He’d said it without thinking. Why was it blazing in his mind now?

“We don’t have to keep torturing ourselves about the past, Brian. I’m thankful I finally see that.” She backed gently from his embrace and looked at him. “Can we pray together right now that God will use our story, our choices, to affect the choices of many others for the good?”

Brian got on his knees, Kelli with him, and they prayed. And somehow in the midst of their prayers, in the outer reaches of his mind and heart, Brian got a glimpse of that word again—cherished— and a plan that was awakening in his heart.


BRIAN AND LOGAN GRABBED A TABLE AT FIVE GUYS late Saturday afternoon, waiting for their burgers, settling in for good conversation.

“I’m glad you were free,” Brian said. “It was fun hanging out at Six Flags, but I thought it’d be cool to get together one-on-one.”

“That was on my mind as well,” Logan said. “You beat me to it. Good day in the studio?”

“Awesome day. Mad productive, in more ways than one.”

“Can’t ask for better than that. I’ve been praying for you and Kelli as you work on it.”

Brian was moved. “Appreciate that, man. That means a lot. I feel like God is answering too.”

“I told you, I’m a fan, so these might be selfish prayers. I’m ready to hear some great stuff from you. Comes out in October?”

“Yeah, but if you really want to hear it, you can listen before the release—but there’s a catch. You’d have to critique it as well. I could use the feedback.”

“Seriously? Don’t mess with me now.” His smile was genuine. “I’m in.”

“It’ll be good to have your ear.” Brian hesitated. “Can I give you something else to pray about?”

“Absolutely.”

They looked up as their numbers were called. When they’d gotten their food and sat back down, Brian continued. “The theme of the album is love letters, and the first single is a love letter to our baby.”

“Your baby?” Logan leaned in, taking a bite.

“Kelli got pregnant the summer after we graduated from high school, and we, uh . . .”

Logan nodded. “Got it. I understand.”

Brian sighed, hands running down his face. “I’ve got to get used to talking about this. That’s why I need prayer. I’ll be doing a video, talking about the choices I made and hopefully steering people to different choices. But it won’t be easy.”

Logan put his burger down. “Brian, wow, to go public with something like that—”

“Crazy. I know.”

Logan shook his head. “That’s not what I was about to say. Courageous is what came to mind. So many people have similar stories but never say anything. I’ve counseled people myself. You bet I’ll be praying for you.” He lifted his burger. “Things okay with you and Kelli as you work through it?”

“Might be getting to the point where it’s becoming okay.” Brian stared at the table a second. “To be honest, I wish it could be more, but I don’t think I’ll get another chance with her after what I did. I walked away from her when she needed me most.” He made a face at Logan. “What is it with you, man? I barely know you and I’m unloading my life.”

Logan smiled. “I think we get to that point, especially as men. It’s hard to find guys you can connect with and be real with, so when you do, it all comes tumbling out.” He checked his phone when he heard a notification sound. “Choir member, but it can wait.” He looked at Brian. “I hear you. Never know what God might do. Can I add that to the prayer list too?”

“I guess. Her boyfriend’s in town this weekend, and I’m the last person she’d want to be with anyway, so . . . how do you like those odds?”

“I like ’em a lot. Sets the stage for God to do something awesome.”

Brian nodded, smiling. “Okay. That’s what I needed to hear.” He picked up his burger and took a bite.

“Got something I’d like to unload too, if I could.”

“Unload away. Hope I can help.”

Logan wiped some ketchup from his mouth. “I get approached a lot about pastor of worship positions, and I decided to talk to a church in central Florida. I’m a finalist now, and I’ve told Pastor Lyles and Chip, our pastor of worship. If they offer me the position, I’m thinking about taking it.”

“Really? Why?”

“My mom and dad and most of my mom’s family are down there. I came here because it was an opportunity to work with an amazing music ministry—and it’s been fabulous—but I don’t have family here. Lately I’m kind of sensing a shift within . . . a longing for relationship as well as ministry at this point in my life.”

Brian sipped his drink. “I could be way off base, so feel free to shoot me down, but could this shift have anything to do with Heather? Looks to me like you might be building a relationship with her.”

Logan hesitated. “We’re still unloading?”

“We’re still unloading.”

“It very well might have something to do with Heather. I knew her from the choir, but when we reconnected in Indianapolis, it was like God plopped her down in the middle of my life. We connect on a lot of levels.”

“Okay . . . Sounds like there’s more . . .”

Logan sighed. “I don’t know. Feels like we’re building something, but I’m not sure what.” He shrugged. “Maybe just a friendship, which wouldn’t be a reason to stay in St. Louis.” He thought a moment. “Maybe she was the impetus I needed to show me what was lacking in my life, and my family’s really the answer.”

“When will you know about the position?”

“Not sure. Month maybe.”

“I’ll be praying for you, but I’ve got to admit my own selfishness. I’d hate to see you leave Living Word. I think I’ll focus my prayers on something jumping off between you and Heather so you’ll have a reason to stay.”

Logan laughed. “Kind of funny, isn’t it, that Heather and Kelli are together right now? Think they spend any time talking about us?”

“Not if Kelli has anything to do with it.”

“Yeah, Heather too. She’s been praying not to focus her attention on any guys right now.”

“Wonderful. We’re unloading about them, and I bet right now they’re digging into the Bible. How’s that for a side-by-side comparison?” Brian shook a fry at him. “We need to get our act together.”

“I agree. Next time we’ll bring our Bibles and set them on the table as we unload. Then we can feel more spiritual about it.”

A thought shot through Brian’s mind, and he got a faraway look in his eyes.

“What?” Logan drained his soda to the bottom and shook the ice.

“I have an idea you might be able to help me with.”

“You know the drill,” Logan said. “Unload.”


HEATHER HAD A BIG GRIN. “TIME FOR OPEN DISCUSSION?”

Cyd looked down at her Bible. “I think we covered everything, and you two asked great questions, as usual. So, yep.”

“Good.” She turned to Kelli. “I want to hear all about Miles.”

“What?” Kelli frowned at Heather. “Excuse me, girlfriend. Open discussion is for you to bring up your issues. Not for you to bring up my stuff.”

“Aw, come on. The man flew to town to see you, he’s sleeping right here on this sofa, and I don’t know much about him. I want to hear the scoop. How’d you get together?”

Kelli closed her Bible, reflecting. “We were part of a group of friends that hung out on campus. He and I paired off, started going to movies, eating out, studying together. Basically became a habit— that developed over time.”

“And . . .” Heather leaned dramatically toward her.

Kelli pushed her back, laughing. “And nothing. That’s the scoop.”

“How do you feel about him now?”

Kelli thought about it. “I’m trying to figure that out. I’d say we’re close. He wants our relationship to go deeper, and I pretty much want that too. He means a lot to me. But . . .”

Heather and Cyd let the word hang, waiting for her.

“I don’t know,” Kelli continued. “How close could we really be if I only told him last night about my songwriting?”

Cyd had a focused look about her. “Why didn’t you keep him in the loop as things were developing with Monica and then with Brian’s album?”

This one was easy. “I was afraid it would open up too much about the past that I wasn’t ready to tell,” Kelli said. “Still not. He only knows the music part.”

Cyd angled her head. “But God’s done so much in bringing you out of that past. Are you thinking Miles wouldn’t understand? What’s his spiritual life like?”

“Well . . . I’m not sure.” The realization surprised Kelli. “Neither of us went to church in Austin. He said he was a Christian, and that was good enough for me. But now that you mention it, we don’t talk about spiritual stuff.”

She pondered that more. Now that she was growing closer to God again, was that a missing dynamic between her and Miles?

Heather hit her on the arm, an inquisitive look on her face. “Here’s a test. If you had to make a decision right now to spend the rest of your life on a deserted island with either Miles or Brian, which would you choose?”

Kelli narrowed her eyes at Heather. “What in the world does Brian have to do with this?”

“Just for fun, but you have to be honest. There’s a Bible on your lap.”

“I hate ‘what if’ questions that could never happen in reality.”

“Which one?”

Kelli imagined herself on the island, frolicking to pass the time. “Understanding the ridiculous nature of the question, I’d . . . probably have to say”—she tapped her finger on the Bible—“and the answer shall forever remain between the three of us—Brian.”

Cyd’s eyebrows arched. “Whoa.”

Heather sat back and crossed her legs. “As I suspected.”

“Meaning?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never seen you with Miles, so you’ll have to take this with a grain of salt—”

“Obviously . . .”

“—but I have seen you with Brian, and there’s just something about the two of you.”

Kelli sighed big. “So, now that we know I’d choose Brian in a hypothetical situation that will never arise and thus means nothing, let’s move to a real-life question for you, Heather.” She grinned. “Didn’t think you’d escape unscathed, did you?”

“Bring it, sistah.”

“In your heart of hearts, could you fall in love with Logan?”

“What? No fair! I haven’t focused on Logan like that. How am I supposed to—”

“Yada, yada, yada. Take a moment, think about the times you’ve spent with him and how you felt. It’s not pass or fail. Just answer.” Kelli sat back, then said, “Oh, wait.” She slid Heather’s Bible from the sofa into her lap.

Heather tossed her eyes playfully. “Well . . . a couple nights ago, I stopped by the church after choir rehearsal, and Logan and I sang some of his songs together.”

Kelli’s mouth dropped. “I can’t believe you hadn’t told me yet!”

“I think I’ve been processing it still. But to answer your question”—she took a deep breath—“yes.”

“Wow. No qualifiers?”

“You asked whether I could. There are lots of qualifiers as to whether I would.”

“Still,” Kelli said, “I’m impressed. Can I ask—”

“No. One question apiece. You ask another, I’m asking another.”

Kelli stood. “Looks like we’re done here.”

Amid the laughter, Cyd got up and reached for both of their hands. Kelli loved this part, when they could take everything they’d talked about, even the silly stuff, and send it upward. More and more, she was starting to trust that what came back down would be exactly what she needed.

Cyd squeezed their hands in the circle. “So what are we praying about, girls?”

Kelli went first. “The project at work I told y’all about and the album project of course, that God would continue to lead us creatively.” She hesitated. “And Miles. He’s leaving early tomorrow morning, but this evening we’re going to dinner and a movie. Please pray that I’ll know in my heart where our relationship stands. Our discussion’s really got me thinking.”

“What’s he been doing today anyway?” Heather asked.

“Thank God for Lindell. He took him golfing earlier, and I guess they got to talking historical Civil War stuff in Missouri. So they did some sightseeing afterward. Miles has been texting me, excited about what he’s seeing.”

They looked to Heather for her turn.

“Hmm . . . all the things I shared earlier about job frustration and feeling again like I want to sing. And the trip to my brother’s next weekend.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Kelli said. “Take lots and lots of pictures.”

“Might take video too,” Heather said. “And one more thing . . . I guess I’ll go ahead and ask for prayer about the Logan situation.”

Kelli looked at her. “The Logan situation?”

Heather nodded. “I’ve tried hard to ignore it, but I do feel my heart slowly gravitating toward him. But I think we’re meant to stay strictly friends.”

“And if you’re not? Maybe we should pray it’ll be whatever God wants it to be.”

She gave Kelli the eye. “Why are you all in my prayer request, trying to amend it? I didn’t hear you say we should pray for your relationship with Brian to be whatever God wants it to be, but did I say anything? Noooo.”

Cyd laughed at them. “I wish you two had seen me last fall. The only thing I was certain about was that Cedric and I would not be together.”

Heather and Kelli looked at each other.

“You don’t know what God will do,” Cyd continued, “or the timing of it. At your age, I never thought I’d have to wait till forty to meet the man I’d spend my life with.”

Heather and Kelli looked at each other again, this time with eyes wide.

“So yes, we’ll pray, for God’s will and God’s timing with everything.” Cyd smiled. “And for the two of you to be able to accept whatever it is.”