Page 90 of A Surefire Love
“Can’t there be something in the middle? Like, maybe firing you was wrong, but maybe there’s more to the story. And maybe you could’ve done some things differently too.”
“I could’ve fought harder and sooner. Maybe looped in a few key people from outside the leadership board to help talk sense—”
She shook her head with quick jerks. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay….”
“You’re …” She opened her hand like she was waiting for a the right words to land there. Slowly, her fingers curled into a fist. “You’re assuming the worst of them and acting like Carter’s eternity and the future of the church depend on you. Like it’s your way or the highway to hell, but does it have to be that extreme? Idothink Eric’s off base, but you’re not perfect either. And you said it yourself. God allowed this, so he’s still involved, right?”
In theory.He knew the sarcasm was wrong. God was always involved, even when Anson didn’t understand what He was up to. Even when Anson was facing a critique from the one person he’d hoped would comfort him.
“Which of my imperfections do you think justified firing me?”
“It’s not that I think their decision is justified, it’s just, take care of the log in your own eye first, right?”
“The imperfection is an entire log now?”
Color rose in her cheeks. “I’ve wondered how in theworld to share my testimony the way you shared yours. So neat and tidy. Mine’s not like that, and maybe yours isn’t meant to be either. Maybe you would’ve gotten through to Carter and others if you’d told them about your brother.”
“I was fired because I didn’t talk about Gury?”
She lifted her hand and shook her head. “I’m just saying, if the board’s human, maybe you are too. Maybe you could’ve handled the ministry differently while you had it. You were concerned about the kids’ spiritual well-being, but even you put limits on what you’d do for them, didn’t you? Why did you decide to keep Gury a secret? Did you think it would glorify God? Or are you ashamed to admit you kept secrets for him, as if we don’t all have regrets that need forgiveness? Isn’t God’s grace enough for all of us?”
Guilt sizzled as it rained on the flames of his anger. He’d suppressed impulses to share about Gury, but he hadn’t thought those came from the Lord. What if they had?
Blaze plucked her coat from the armrest where she’d laid it.
She was leaving? He hefted his reluctant body to stand between her and the door. “Why are you angry with me?”
She cocked her head. “The more I think about your silence, the worse it seems. You’ve lived among these people most of your life without showing the courage to be vulnerable. Why? So you can look better than us?” Her eyes glinted, tears lining her lashes. “Maybe with me, you can own up to things and still feel superior because I’ve got a much longer track record of messing up.”
He opened his mouth but found no words. One of the things he loved about Blaze was her graciousness. Was he really so far off base that he deserved this attack? “Is that really what you think of me?” His voice turned raw.
“I don’t know, Anson.” She pulled on her coat and cinched the belt.
He dug his fingers into his own shoulder, unsure how they’d ended up here.
Without meeting his eyes, she motioned him to move aside.
Responses might trump reactions, but he could muster neither. He opened the door. She left without another word. A blessing, because the ones she’d already thrown would be stuck in his head for days.
33
She may have taken that too far. Blaze drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove away from Anson’s house.
Anson was an either-or thinker: everything was either right or wrong, success or failure. His convictions made him a man of integrity. A man she’d had up on a pedestal with all the other church leaders. Sure, she’d known they weren’t perfect, but she had thought them better than her with her shorter walk with God, her messed up past, her dysfunctional upbringing.
But a disagreement this extreme meant anyone might have serious issues they needed to address. Anson had judged her too quickly back in high school. Remnants of that kind of thinking might still lead him to jump to the wrong conclusions.
Except Eric was probably guilty of something. He’d come up with one excuse after another until he’d finally found one that stuck. Which reason was real? And if his motivation had to be hidden under so many layers, was it valid?
Doubtful.
Why couldn’t she have told Anson he was right? Why start nitpicking him?
Because getting him to recognize his own flaws might help him extend more grace to others instead of assuming the worst. If she could soften him up, maybe when she told him Mercy had snuck out, he’d start with trust instead of calling the fire inspector.
But even Blaze wasn’t sure that trust was well placed.
