Page 33 of Ardently Yours

“I know you’re laughing at me,” Jay says, side-eyeing me, which only makes me laugh even though I was trying not to. “I’m kicking you out of Word Search Wednesdays.”

Our weekly gathering began as a way to bond over a shared love of word searches, conversation, and picking the brains of wise older men like Jay’s dad, Mr. Gatsby, who used to own the inn before passing it on to George Wilson. Mr. Gatsby still stops by the inn every now and then.

Jay got me into word searches because I needed something to help with the homesick feeling I was battling during my first few months here. It distracted me from what I was going through and gave me something to look forward to every Wednesday night before Bible study. Now it’s our thing. I appreciate things like that, the little traditions that make Selah Falls feel more like home.

I walk with the guys, joking and laughing in hushed tones as we move toward the front with everyone else. I greet the rest of the group, which includes a few other townspeople around our age.

Jane sits cross-legged on the floor in front of the podium, waving at us. I wave back, feeling like this is exactly where I need to be. Lizzie and Nic look over and wave too.

Well, Nic waves and smiles at us, her smile lingering as she looks at her fiancé, who walks over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. Lizzie’s smile fades when she sees me, and she turns away.

Ouch.

That stings, even though I’ve already survived a whole day of her ignoring me at work and barely saying more than one sentence to me. Still, I don’t like that we’re somehow not on speaking terms anymore after I sent her that text last night. I wish I could take it back.

I wish I could tell her that I didn’t mean anything by it. She’s been a huge part of why staying in Selah Falls has been possible for me in the first place, so why can’t she support me now? Especially when it’s a plan that helps both of us.

I move to sit next to her, but she places her Bible on the chair beside her, ignoring me once again.

So instead, I sit next to Jay and Edward on the opposite side of Lizzie, near Nic.

I can’t deal with this now, not when Jane is opening up her Bible and inviting all of us to do the same. Not when she prays for us to move every distraction out of the way and focus on God, asking Him to join our Bible study and open His Word to us. Not when tonight’s lesson is about trusting in the promises of God.

And I’m thinking about how I do trust Him. I think about being here in Selah and about the home I left behind. The family I left behind. The life I left behind in Chicago.

One of the key verses Jane highlights comes from Lamentations 3:22-23: It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

I think about those words. My mind mulls over them, but my heart feels the pain, the echo of everything I’ve been trying to escape.

Sure, I left home behind. But I’m still in limbo here in Selah, trying to figure out what comes next. I have money, but it’s not even mine. It’s my parents’ money.

I was supposed to have my own business, to use my rich-boy beginnings as a way to build something for myself. Yet here I am, a twenty-seven-year-old Black man living in a small town, staying at an inn, working at a cafe, and pretending my life is going well while my parents are threatening to cut me off and leave me penniless.

How can I trust in God’s promises when my life feels like such a mess? Why would I trust in Him when this is where I’ve ended up, anywhere but where I thought I’d be by now? Can I depend on these new mercies when every day feels like a gamble?

Can I trust in His compassion for me when my own family can’t even love me for who I am? Can I rest in His faithfulness and know that He will make a way for me?

I don’t know. But I want to believe it. I want to trust God. My logic wrestles with my faith as I listen to the rest of the Bible study. Too many thoughts flood my mind, and there’s a war going on within me, pulling me in every direction.

Maybe I should just take all the money out of my accounts and move somewhere else. Maybe God can bless me somewhere far away from here. Maybe I can still open my own bakery with my trust fund. Why wait on God? I can do this on my own.

What if Lizzie is trying to hold me back and keep me working for her? Should I buy the cafe and show her, and my family, that I can do this? That I deserve my own business?

When small group comes to an end and we have a moment of silent reflection, the chaotic thoughts cause me to feel anxious and unlike myself.

I’m out of sorts, desperate, and grasping at straws. What happened to me? I used to be sure of my faith and know who I wanted to be. Now I’m losing myself, losing hope, and losing sight of what matters.

Overwhelmed, I close my eyes, bow my head, and offer a silent prayer: Lord, You’ve been good to me. You’ve been better to me than I deserve. I’ve lived a privileged life and have taken it for granted for so long. But I want to do better, to believe in You more, and to trust You. I don’t know how to handle what’s going on in my life, with my family, or with my dreams. But I’m trying. Please help me. Please guide me. Please bless me. Please forgive me of my sins and for my ignorance in trying to do this life without You. I need You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

When Bible study ends and I overhear Lizzie telling Nic and Jane that she has to stop by the cafe to work on something, I know what I have to do. I need to make things right with her.

That’s the least I can do. I may not be ready to talk to my family yet, but I can talk to her. At least I can try.

***

The cafe is deserted when I pull up in my black Jeep, except for one other car outside, the only other black Jeep I’ve ever seen in town, which belongs to Lizzie.

Mine is a newer model than hers, but I’ve always appreciated how hers looks vintage in a cool way. I park next to her and head to the cafe’s back door, using my key to unlock it.