Chapter 32
“What do I say if someone asks about the fire?”
Blaze caught her sister’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
This was what came of telling Mercy she’d sounded guilty yesterday when she’d randomly inserted into conversation with Anson that she hadn’t started the fire.
“If someone asks you a direct question, answer honestly. But don’t volunteer anything they don’t ask.
Let’s practice. How did you find out about the fire, Mercy? ”
“Anson showed us a video. Am I allowed to say that?”
Blaze suppressed a groan. “Let’s skip it, if you can. How about you say you saw it on social media and not mention who showed you?”
Many Oaks Bible Church was meeting in the performing arts theater a couple of blocks from the square this morning. As they got closer, trees, lampposts, and brick buildings lined the street.
Blaze tried another question. “Who do you think started the fire?”
“Some kid who did it on accident.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I heard someone tried to put it out. Besides, who’d do that on purpose?”
“That’s a great answer.” Though it did little to assuage Blaze’s worry. “No one knows you left the house, so don’t mention that and it’ll be fine.”
“But what do I say if they ask why I’m grounded?”
“Say you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess.”
Following a couple of other cars, Blaze steered into the theater’s lot. She parked and twisted toward Mercy. “There are no classes this morning, so you probably won’t end up talking to people anyway. You’ll stay with me the whole time.”
Staying together would also give Blaze an excuse to limit her conversation with Anson. Despite her curiosity about yesterday’s meeting, she hadn’t reached out because the more they talked without her revealing Mercy’s early morning adventure, the worse her omission would be.
It’d be so much easier to tell him, but even if Mercy was exonerated, the questions would leave nasty rumors in their wake. The kind that could haunt Mercy for decades.
Anyway, if the meeting had gone badly, Anson would’ve contacted her. He’d probably been too busy helping pull off the change of venue.
Mercy and Blaze fell in with the flow of people approaching the theater’s entrance.
Other than the expected exchange with the greeters, no one talked with them as they found seats that mirrored where they usually sat in the sanctuary.
Anson wasn’t in the auditorium yet, but he’d know where to find them when he was free.
Ed opened the service with prayer and announcements instead of Anson.
Maybe it was his week to preach? The usual worship team played, but an amp buzzed the whole time and Blaze struggled to focus on God.
Thankfully, the team turned off the equipment when they left the stage, and the buzzing stopped.
Greg walked on stage to deliver the sermon. Still no sign of Anson. She did her best to scan the audience without making a big show of it. Didn’t spot him.
Pastor Greg’s closing prayer ended so abruptly, her eyes were still closed when he said, “The leadership board would like for all of our youth leaders to meet at the back before leaving today.”
Was Anson sick? Regret churned in her stomach. She should’ve reached out.
Mercy followed her to the back of the room, and they fell in beside Nolan as a huddle formed.
“Do you know what this is about?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“All right.” Eric Newsome wedged in and clapped his hands. “This everyone?” He looked around at the group of four youth leaders.
Sydney nodded.
Eric’s gaze fell on Mercy and he frowned. She bumped into Blaze like she used to as a much younger child when she wanted to hide.
Blaze put an arm around her and aimed as sweet of a tone as possible at Eric. “What can we do for you?”
“We are going to need extra help with the youth groups moving forward, as we no longer have a youth pastor on staff.”
A grunt of shock slipped through Blaze’s lips.
She couldn’t have heard right. Then again, it couldn’t have been her imagination or Sydney’s mouth wouldn’t have fallen open.
Nolan cocked his head. Ray shot a nervous look around the group.
A dimple appeared above one of Mercy’s eyebrows as confusion skewed her face.
Blaze held her tighter as regret swelled. She should’ve checked in with Anson yesterday.
“I understand this is a change.” Eric jammed his lips together for a beat.
“We’ll take it one step at a time. Since we can’t meet in the building, we’re canceling youth activities for this week.
In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves and pray, then get back to me about who will lead each group moving forward. ”
“That’s a big responsibility.” Ray stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t worry.” Eric’s cajoling tone didn’t reassure Blaze of anything. “We’d like the youth groups to be a place the kids can hang out, feel comfortable, and get a positive church experience that will keep them coming back. Whoever leads won’t have to preach.”
Sydney crossed her arms. “What will the responsibilities entail?”
“There’s a series of five-minute devotional videos produced by a big church in El Paso with a thriving youth ministry.
They’re polished and entertaining. We’ll have you play one of those each week as the teaching portion.
Singing is optional. If you can get a great band together, perfect.
If not, let’s focus on other things. Any other questions? ”
“No one else is going to ask?” Nolan rested his hands on his hips. “I will. Where’s Anson?”
“Given the size of our church, we had to make a hard, fiscally responsible decision. I hope you’ll understand.
” Eric rubbed his hands together. “As for new primary leaders, I’ll need your answers by …
let’s say Wednesday. That’ll give some time to organize before restarting gatherings next week.
” He thanked them and walked away, leaving the shocked clutch of leaders staring at each other.
Ray ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and rejoined his family.
“I’m talking to Pastor Greg.” Nolan stalked off.
Mercy peered up at Blaze.
Blaze lifted her shoulders helplessly as her stomach churned, queasy. She loved this church. She’d met Christ here. How could the leadership board have turned on Anson like this?
Sydney stepped closer and dropped her voice. “Do you know what’s going on?”
“No.” When he left yesterday morning, she’d known the meeting would be hard. She never expected them to fire him.
Sydney studied her. “People have seen you two together, and for some reason, they think I need to know. Like it’s wrong for him to move on.
” She flipped the end of her ponytail over her shoulder.
“For the record, moving on is healthy, and he doesn’t have to stay away from Mondays at The Depot for my sake. I know he loves being there.”
Blaze gulped. “He’s been coming on Thursdays, after leadership meetings.”
“I’m not surprised. Though I also thought you’d know what happened with his job.”
Posing a guess, even an educated one, would be participating in the rumor mill Blaze hated so much. “I actually don’t.”
“Oh. Hm.” Sydney’s eyes narrowed. Finally, her expression relaxed. “Actually, that does sound like him. He’s not very good about opening up, is he?”
Anson valued his privacy, but Blaze had thought he opened up to her. This omission did seem to suggest otherwise. Considering she was keeping a secret from him, perhaps she deserved to be on the outside this time.
Where could a displaced pastor attend worship?
If Anson showed up at Grace Evangelical, people would recognize him and question his presence.
If he went to the theater to join Many Oaks Bible Church, he risked upsetting the men who’d voted him out.
And depending on how they planned to break the news of his departure, he’d face more questions there than elsewhere.
Answering those questions could cause division in the body of believers he wanted to serve.
Besides, the Lord still hadn’t answered Anson’s questions about his dismissal: Why had God allowed it?
He’d done what he’d believed the Lord wanted him to do.
Why hadn’t He blessed that effort? Anson might have made a misstep somewhere.
He could’ve objected harder and sooner to the board’s initiative.
Or perhaps he was never meant to work at Many Oaks Bible Church to begin with.
If he’d been wrong in either case, how would he ever figure out what he was supposed to do now?
He stayed home and spent the morning praying, studying the Bible, and reading a book on discerning God’s will, which he’d started a few weeks ago.
The practices that normally led to a feeling of connection with the Lord felt empty.
Like he was the only one in the room.
Like maybe God wasn’t present.
The silence eventually drove Anson to the gym. Even after working his way through the weight machines, his muscles crawled with unspent tension. He returned home to run on the treadmill until he collapsed.
Except when he pulled into his driveway, Blaze was sitting on the front stoop. They’d never spent time at his place before, but his address was in the church directory, so finding it would’ve been as easy as turning a couple of pages.
Relief and longing encouraged him toward her, but hesitation kept him buckled to his seat.
He hadn’t called her yesterday because he didn’t want the loss to be true.
He didn’t understand what God was doing.
Couldn’t claim he liked it. He knew verses about situations like these, but applying them felt like finding comfort in clichés.
If the board knew he was thinking that way, they’d probably be happier they fired him.
Blaze stood. Keeping his pain and confusion to himself didn’t make it less true or easier to bear. Blaze’s presence might, so he got out of the car.