Texas Weddings 3 & 4
But, oh, how great it had been to come up with ideas to help the church grow and flourish. What a wonderful time he had had! Kent had loved getting to know the new people but had really enjoyed spending time with the more established folks, as well.
And then there were those who had been in limbo. One in particular. Kent couldn’t help but smile as his gaze came to rest on Josh Ebert, who sat in the third row with his wife and boys. The reports, at least so far, had all been good. Josh seemed to be on the mend, and Vicky’s face—and attitude—reflected a new sense of hope. Their young sons sat between them, faces awash with contentment.
That’s what this season is all about, isn’t it? Hope. Contentment. Restoration. Kent’s heart swelled. Yes, not just for others, but for me, as well.
The last two Christmases had been the most difficult of his life, Kent had to admit, but this one felt different in so many ways.
New. I’ve made all things new.
And You’ve done a work in my heart I could never have imagined. You’ve healed from the pain of the past and given me a hope for the future.
Kent stood and made his way to the podium. Once there, he gave the instructions to light the candles. One by one the room came alive with light—starting with a soft glow and growing into a shimmer that took his breath away. By the time the final candle came alive, light flooded the whole place.
“The stars are brightly shining.” As the words to Jessica’s song echoed in his ears, Kent couldn’t help but think each and every member of Grace Community Church was a star all its own. And yet, each person was more valuable, more precious than a million stars. Let every light keep burning, Lord. Don’t let even one go out.
His gaze settled on a group of people in the third row—his own little galaxy. His mother and stepfather sat side-by-side, taking turns holding Charity, who squirmed as much or more than ever.
And then there was the young woman seated to his mother’s left. With the soft glow of the candlelight flickering in front of Shauna Alexander’s face, her beauty lit a flame in his heart that he could no longer deny. He would not fight to put it out. Instead, he would embrace it as never before.
***
Shauna brushed away loose tears as Jessica’s song ended. She couldn’t help but whisper the word beautiful as she dabbed at her eyes.
Beautiful service, beautiful song, a beautiful family seated all around her—and a man so used by God standing at the podium that she had to confess his beauty, as well. I have to tell him. I need to let him know how proud I am of all he has accomplished in this place. And I have to let him know something else, too.
I have to let him know that I’m falling in love with him.
The musicians began to play “Silent Night,” and the congregation rose as one. The words, sweet and simple, brought fresh tears to her eyes. “All is calm, all is bright.” She could hardly sing past the lump in her throat.
I still speak in the stillness, in the calm.
“Round yon virgin mother and Child.” She whispered the words, unable to get them out. Yes, Lord. I hear Your voice.
“Don’t doubt the call I’ve placed on your life to work with children. There will be many of them in your life. They need your love.”
I’m so inadequate, Father.
“Sleep in heavenly peace.” The congregation continued on with the soothing lullaby, and Shauna closed her eyes to focus.
“Peace, child. My strength is made perfect in you.”
Charity tapped on Shauna’s leg, startling her back to reality.
“Teacher?”
Shauna looked down at the youngster. “What is it, honey?” she whispered.
“I hold candle?” Charity’s lips formed a familiar pout.
“Well. . .” Shauna looked up at Laura Dougherty for some show of support, but found the other woman stood with her eyes closed, clearly enjoying the music.
“Maybe we can hold it together,” Shauna whispered. She sat down on the pew, and Charity crawled up into the spot next to her. With her own hands very carefully holding the candle, she allowed Charity to slip her tiny fingers around the edges of the bottom.
With both hands now firmly holding the little light in place, Charity sang aloud with a voice as clear as an angel’s. Her breath caused the candle to flicker, and her precious voice brought a smile to Shauna’s face—a smile quickly replaced with tears of great joy. They came slowly at first, and then with greater intensity.
Charity nuzzled up against her and whispered the words, “I love you, teacher,” so softly that Shauna had to ask her to repeat them. When she finally heard—and fully understood—the youngster’s heartfelt offering, Shauna’s heart felt as if it would explode with joy. In one night’s time she had discovered her heart was capable of not only love for a man. . .but the purest of loves for his daughter, as well.
***
Kent emerged from the meeting, amazed to find the church nearly empty. He finally located his mother and Charity in the back of the sanctuary, but most of the others had apparently already gone.
Please, Lord. Don’t let Shauna be gone. I need to talk to her.
“How did it go?” His mother yawned as she stood from the pew.
“Fine, fine.” I’ll have to fill her in later.
“You were sure in there long enough.”
“We were?” Kent looked down at his watch, shocked to discover almost an hour had passed. “That’s odd. Felt like just minutes.”
“We still have some last-minute things to take care of at home,” his mother whispered. “For you know who.” She pointed down at his daughter, who slept soundly on the pew.
“Christmas morning,” he gasped. “I got so caught up in everything going on up here that I almost forgot.”
His mother chuckled. “Trust me, she won’t let you forget.”
As he reached down to scoop Charity into his arms, he asked his mother the question that had weighed on his heart. “Is, uh. . .is Shauna gone?”
His mom nodded. “She stayed for a half hour or so, but had to get home. She needs to spend time with her family on Christmas Eve.”
“I understand.” He did, but he also understood that his heart might explode if he didn’t share its contents with her soon.
“She really enjoyed the service tonight, honey.” Kent’s mother patted him on the back as they made their way out into the foyer.
“Really?”
“Yes. We had a long talk afterwards. She wants to make this her church home.”
“I’m glad. I want that, too.”
“I believe you want more than that.” His mother’s eyes twinkled as she added, “What you’re wanting might make for a great Christmas present. The very best.”
“Maybe.” Kent shrugged and tried his best to hide the smile that wanted to spread so wide his cheeks would split. “But everything in its time.”
“Fine. No more from me on this subject,” she said with a wink. “At least for now.”
As they walked out into the parking lot, Kent’s mind reeled. He couldn’t possibly bother Shauna anymore tonight. Should he call her on Christmas Day and disturb her family time? Probably not. But when would he see her again? When could he tell her?
“Oh!” His mother turned to him rather abruptly as he reached his car. “I forgot to ask you how the meeting went. Is everything okay?”
He didn’t respond for a moment as he debated whether or not to tell her what the board members had decided. Finally, he settled on a brief answer. “Yes. Everything went fine.”
“You’re not telling me much.” She gave him an inquisitive look.
“No, I’m not. We can talk about it later, okay? It’s late, and I need to get Charity into bed.”
“Okay. But I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight, then. It’s not nice to make an old woman worry.”
Kent chuckled, understanding her ploy to get more information from him. “You’re not old, Mom. And I certainly don’t want to worry you.”
His mothe
r climbed into her car and started the engine. She pulled away and waved with a mischievous grin.
Kent shivered against the cold as he strapped Charity into her car seat. She awoke for just a moment then promptly fell asleep again. As he settled into the driver’s seat, Kent reflected on his mother’s curiosity. Her eyes had been full of questions, but Kent couldn’t bring himself to give answers.
At least not yet.
twenty
At 3:15 a.m. Kent sat at his computer, trying to compose a poem. The idea had come to him after crawling into bed at two. I don’t have a present for Shauna. What can I give her? He had struggled with the question for over an hour before he climbed out of bed and dragged himself to the computer.
“I’m not very good at putting things down on paper.” Had he really said those words to Shauna as they stood in front of the computer store? What, then, would compel him to think he might now be able to compose a poem, of all things?
And yet, the idea wouldn’t leave him alone. His heart might very well erupt from his chest if he didn’t get these feelings out. And the sooner, the better. He typed a few words then backspaced with a rapid tap, tap, tap to get rid of the nonsense. Once again, he tried and, once again, he ended up wiping all of it away.
“How can I begin to tell her in one poem what I can’t even formulate in my head?” he mumbled. “None of this makes sense to me, and if it doesn’t make sense to me, it sure won’t to her.” And yet he must say something. Otherwise, he might never sleep again.
After a few moments of prayer and introspection, Kent began to type once more.
How can I begin to send
A message I can’t comprehend?
Mere words could simply not convey
My heart’s true hopes or dreams today.
When your lovely face appears
This coward turns away in fear.
If courage would rise up in me
My heart could surely speak its piece.
And so I send with Christmas cheer
This message, cryptic and unclear
For if I did reveal my mind
You might, within, the real truth find.
He stared at the page, trying to figure out a title. The words, ‘Cryptic Message’ seemed to type themselves at the top of the document. Now to figure out how to sign the silly thing. “With love?” “Cordially?” “Sincerely?” He settled on, “In Christ’s love, Kent Chapman.”
With a click, he sent the document out, out, out—across the Internet and into her waiting inbox. He leaned back against his chair, wishing, for a moment, he could take it back, wishing he could unsend it.
Just as quickly, he thanked God for giving him the courage to press the send button. Only one problem remained—how to breathe until she responded.
***
Shauna awoke on Christmas morning with a peace she hadn’t felt in years. This overwhelming sense of peace intermingled with a heady joy as she contemplated her newly discovered feelings for Kent Chapman. What an amazing Christmas gift—to experience love, real love. And how wonderful to imagine the Christ of Christmas might be so loving and gracious as to give her the desires of her heart.
Shauna’s spirit carried the songs of the night before. The words ran over and over in her mind, and she felt truly free in her spirit. “All is calm, all is bright.” Yes, everything did seem calmer today. And her thoughts were crystal clear. She had fallen in love with Kent Chapman—not just the “Twenty-first Century Pastor,” not just the father of a precocious little girl—but the man. And once the presents were opened and dinner eaten, she would find a way to let him know. Surely he felt the same. Otherwise, the Lord would not have given her such a peace.
The morning moved on much as their Christmases past. She and her parents opened presents together after reading the Christmas story from the Bible—tradition they had begun when she was a little girl. Then her aunts, uncles, and cousins began to arrive.
With a houseful of people to contend with, she had little time to think about what she would say to Kent when the opportunity afforded itself. But later that afternoon, as the crowd dwindled down, Shauna headed off to the computer, convinced she could no longer put off the inevitable. She must compose a letter to Kent Chapman. What she had to say could best be said on paper. If she tried to speak the words in person, she would likely stumble all over herself.
Her computer seemed slow to boot up and moved even slower when she tried to open her E-mail inbox. For some reason, the whole thing locked up and would not function at all. Frustrated, she shut the computer down and rebooted. Immediately, the virus scanner picked up a problem. She let the software scan the machine, horrified to discover a virus from a recent E-mail. The words Cryptic Message appeared in the subject box, but the rest had been scrambled. The whole thing looked like nothing but gibberish. Had someone tried to sabotage her computer? A hacker, perhaps?
Shauna quarantined the virus, but still the problem persisted. The machine continued to lock up, finally freezing altogether. Two more times she shut down the computer and rebooted, but never made it past the front screen without everything coming to a standstill.
Disappointed, she turned the computer off for the last time. Now what? Should she call Kent? Then again, how could she disturb him on Christmas? He would be spending the day with family. And, come to think of it, that’s probably what she should be doing right now, as well.
Shauna headed back out into the living room and joined her mother and father for a quiet conversation in front of the fireplace. They told stories of Christmases gone by and laughed at a few of the presents their relatives had brought. They nibbled at pieces of pie and sipped cups of hot chocolate. Her father eventually dozed off in his chair, and her mother picked up a book to read.
As drowsiness set in, Shauna stumbled into bed for a long, well-deserved nap. She didn’t bother changing into nightclothes, convinced she would only close her eyes for a few glorious minutes.
She awoke to sunlight streaming through the window. Groggy and confused, she rubbed at her eyes. Her gaze shifted to the alarm clock, and she nearly came out of her skin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She sat up in the bed as she realized the clock read 6:25 a.m. “I slept through the night? No way!” She sprang from the bed and flew into action. Thirty-five minutes later she arrived at the day care, eyes still heavy from sleep and heart still heavy from not speaking to Kent.
***
On the morning after Christmas, Kent could no longer contain himself. He signed onto the computer and checked his E-mail. He didn’t find a letter or a response of any kind from Shauna. His chest tightened as he realized she must have read his poem and ignored it altogether. Maybe she sat at her computer this very minute, trying to compose a “thanks-but-no-thanks” letter. Kent let his imagination run wild, nearly making himself sick over the whole thing—sicker still as he checked his other E-mails.
Just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Kent discovered a message in his inbox from Shauna’s Internet provider. According to the note, he had somehow sent Shauna’s computer a virus—and not just any virus, but the latest, most volatile one to date.
Kent scratched his head, trying to make sense of all of this. How in the world could he have contaminated her computer when his machine was virus-free? He ran his scanner and quickly discovered the problem. A random junk E-mail he had opened briefly on Christmas Eve night had apparently been infected with the potent bug. Kent tossed the E-mail, but the virus had remained, worming its way onto his hard drive. Without knowing it, he had inadvertently contaminated not just his own computer, but hers, as well.
Horrified, Kent struggled to figure out what to do. He tried to quarantine the virus, but the crazy thing seemed to have a mind of its own. The computer screen began to flash and he couldn’t seem to control the mouse. He tried shutting down and rebooting, but that didn’t seem to accomplish anything. The problem persisted. With the screen bouncing all over the pla
ce, he stood and considered his options.
I could reformat the hard drive and start over, but then I’d lose all of my files. Or maybe I could quickly back up the files, even though the computer is acting up. Maybe it’s not too late.
He attempted to do so but met with problem after problem. By the time he finished fighting with the machine, Kent had to conclude the obvious. There was nothing he could do. Not only had he lost the opportunity to share his heart with Shauna, he might very well have lost all of his sermon notes and personal files, as well. Taking the computer back to the repair shop appeared to be the only solution. Surely they would know what to do.
twenty -one
The following afternoon, Kent pulled into the parking lot of Computers Unlimited. He glanced at his watch and whispered a prayer that the store would still be open. 4:59 p.m. Surely someone would still be here.
If only his meeting at church hadn’t lasted so long, he might have gotten off to an earlier start. If only he had remembered to put gas in his car this morning, he might not have had to stop minutes ago. And if only he could stop thinking about Shauna Alexander every waking moment, he might then remember how to do the everyday things like eat, sleep, and breathe.
Kent walked to the back of his car and opened the trunk, then gave the computer a hard stare. I ought to toss the crazy machine into the nearest dumpster and buy a new laptop. If not for the files he needed to save, he would do just that. Instead, he scooped the PC up into his arms and closed the trunk with his elbow. He made it to the door just as Bill Conner, the store manager, reached to lock it.
“Please?” Kent mouthed the word through the glass.
Bill nodded and opened the door. In less than a minute, Kent explained the problem and handed the machine over once again. Mr. Conner tagged the PC and promised this time he would not send it home with the wrong owner. Kent couldn’t help but chuckle. The laughter relaxed him a little, and he was reminded that nothing—not even the breakdown of his computer—could spoil this day unless he let it.