He gestures to a table with clipboards and kind faces around it. “We’re doing our baptism block party next month. If you eventhinkthis might be your next step, talk to the team after service. They don’t have a quota. They just have time. If you’re not there yet, cool. Keep coming. Bring yourquestions. God’s not scared of your process.”
He pauses, looking around. “One last thing before I close out. If you’re here and the night gets loud sometimes, if you’ve ever thought about not being here tomorrow…please hear this. We’re not just a Sunday service. We’re real people. Let someone know. We’ve got a care team, peer-led groups, and counselors we trust. If all you can say is ‘I’m not okay,’ that’s enough. You are worth the call. You are worth the inconvenience. You are not a burden; you’re a person.”
Silence, the good kind. The kind that fills full in your chest, and pricks a little behind your eyes.
He opens his hands again. “Jesus meets you where you are. He won’t leave you there. Grace is free; walking it out takes courage and community. We can do ‘courage’ together. We can be ‘community’ together.”
The band comes back. People stand. The air feels lighter in that way that happens when someone just tells the truth and doesn’t try to fix you with it.
During the last song, Lydia taps me again. When I look down this time, her eyes are full, and there’s a glint to them. “I think I want to get baptized,” she whispers.
It’s not dramatic. It’s not a movie scene…but my chest still does the most undignified, excited flip. “Really?” I whisper back.
She nods, a tiny, tight motion. “I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks now, actually.”
Something unclenches in me at her strength. “I—” I swallow, and it feels like a decision I’ve been walking toward for years. “I think I want to do it with you.”
Her mouth parts. “Really?”
“I haven’t…” I admit, a little embarrassed. “I kept waiting to feel like the perfect Christian. Which is…not the point.” I glance at the stage, then back at her. “New direction, right?”
Her smile starts small and then breaks wide, the kind that makes me want to grab a camera and freeze us in this moment. She squeezes my hand, and I smile down at her, amazed by this girl, amazed by where I’m standing….amazed by God.
79
Lydia
“Stay still,” I tell Bash, laughing as he keeps bending down to kiss me. “I keep having to redo the tie because you’re moving so much.”
He places his hands around my waist and pulls me in. “I can’t keep my hands off of you; I’m sorry.”
I can’t help the blush that betrays the sternness I’m trying to give him right now. “Okay, okay. Just let me finish, and I’m all yours.”
“That you are,” he says softly, kissing the top of my head as I finally finish.
I step back and look at my work, look at my boyfriend, look at the man who has healed parts of me I never thought would be repaired. I’m just so thankful for him, for the blessing he has been in my life.
Bash gives me a look that tells me he knows I’m admiring him, and gives me a little smirk before getting closer and picking me up off the ground. I squeal, and he drops us both onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me.
“I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Ramos one day,” he tells me.
I pretend to be shocked. “You want to marry little old me?”
He just nods, smiling at me. “I want everything with you.”
I lean down and kiss him, then prop myself up on my arms to look at him. “I’m so proud of you.”
“For what?” he asks.
I look around the empty dorm, then back at him. “For what? For everything, for all that you’ve accomplished, for finding what your purpose is, for being the man you are, for…for loving me, for all that you’re going to do in life.”
He takes my face in between both of his hands and gives me the purest look of love. “Thank you for helping me with all of those things.”
I shake my head. “I had no part in that.”
“Trust me,” he says, “you did.”
He studies me for a beat, eyes all glassy and soft. “I love you, Lydia.”
