Into the Fire

(From Breath of Life, chapter 16)

I decided since I was early to wait outside the building for her. I glanced in the window of the boutique she exited nearly into my arms the other day and discovered this must be the source—or at least one of the sources—for her shoe collection. Pricey looking, for sure. Imports mostly from what I could tell. As I was scoping out the display, I felt an arm loop through mine, my hands planted in the pockets of my slacks. What a rush this woman could give me. I reached over and kissed her cheek and continued to enjoy the ensuing blush as we headed to the coffee shop.

     Once situated with our beverages, she spoke.

     “I’m taking my agent to dinner tonight to tell her about my faith in Jesus and how it’s going to change my writing.”

     “How’s she going to take it?”

     “Oh, she’ll take it alright, but it’ll concern her, no doubt,” she said with confidence. “She’s not one to be ‘impressed’ with matters of faith.” The cutest smile followed the statement.

     I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re taking a little pleasure in that fact, I see.”

     Her slender hand came up to her mouth, and she giggled this little girl laugh followed by an immediate frown. “Is that wrong?”

     I looked at her, and this all consuming emotion flooded my consciousness and rendered me momentarily speechless. At first I just felt it without being able to identify it, but as I realized in the split seconds it took to register in my short-circuiting brain, this was love—a love that filled me and was taking me on a journey to a place I’d never been in 37 years of life on earth. The newness of the feelings was foreign enough, but adding this depth of strange devotion, I was undone.

     “No. No, how could it be wrong?” I attempted to ask with some coherency.

     “I don’t know,” she answered, perplexed. “It’s just that when I think about explaining it all to her, I can’t help but smile and hold back a laugh. I know exactly the expression that’s going to appear on her face. She’ll suddenly become a bit uneasy but rebound quickly. For once, I’ll be in control.” She paused. “That’s terrible,” she decided.

     I reached for her hand and smiled again. “It is not. Once in awhile the balance of power has to shift. Knowing you, you’ve probably always felt like she’s called all or most of the shots, and now you’re trading places in a way. It is your career. If you’re re-shaping it, it has to be your decision. I’m sure she knows you well enough to realize you don’t make haphazard decisions, and because of that, she’ll accept it thoughtfully after the initial ‘shock and awe’, so to speak.”

     She stared at me for a few moments, and I did my best to meet her serious gaze without reacting. Tough to do. I wanted to take her in my arms and . . .

     “I love you, Michael.”

     It was a statement, a declaration. Firm and decisive. My vision actually swirled a bit. Her voice was just above a whisper, but the sound echoed in all the chambers of my heart and brain. Resounding, like my perception of chiming Christmas bells: pure and crisp, harmonious, bringing both pleasure and reverence all at the same time.

     “I’ve never loved anyone but you, Shaylen Price.”

     The rest of the short time remaining blurred for me. I learned she would be dining with her folks the following night, and we reserved Saturday for us again, no plan pending other than being together which was fine with me. I wondered but didn’t ask if she would be attending church with Mildred again Sunday.

     Back at the office I had a lot to do so I didn’t get to indulge my newfound emotional state of mind, but later when I grabbed Chinese takeout on the way home and was finally sitting down in front of the TV eating it, I let it all hang out.

     It occurred to me then it was no wonder her brother hadn’t married. He wasn’t settling for second best or third or whatever it was I had done in my life. He was waiting for the one who made his heart beat off its axis at a certain phrase, a touch, a look, or even a thought of her. I had no idea what Rick was like, but Shaylen had made him sound like he was somewhat the opposite of her—more outgoing, confident, a great brother probably on a par with Joseph, and a real friend. I knew I’d like him, and although I looked forward to meeting him, getting the once-over after his best friend and his sister had been in love . . . passing that test would be next to impossible. The only thing I had going for me was Shaylen’s love. Not a small thing by any means, but in my current state of flux, not a great big over the top selling point either. I could only hope when I finally did meet Rick, I had myself together with God more. My puny relationship with the Creator as it stood right now could never measure up to that of the larger than life man who’d given his life on the battlefield.

     At that thought, I lost my appetite.

Father, every good and perfect gift comes down from you. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you for every inspiration, every word, everything that works. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.