Page 97 of A Surefire Love
Blaze’s chest expanded. “She’s a natural.”
He braced his hands on the back of a chair. “Actually, I ran into her in the break room just now. She says she had a good trainer.”
Blaze had been half-asleep on the wrong medication while training Selina, but she had dedicated large blocks of time to her new hire. The Lord must’ve been helping Blaze even before the medicine had. “Whatever caused it, it’s driving Thomas crazy.”
Tony scoffed. “A little competition will do him good.”
“Speaking of, I wanted to talk to you about reworking the monthly sales leader bonus to factor in some additional metrics. Some of the team cuts corners, like not accounting for bald tires on a trade-in. They still haven’t beaten Selina that way, but with some adjustments to the bonus, we could give them incentive to be more careful.”
Selina tapped on the open door.
Tony motioned her in. “You always were a good idea person, Blaze. You’re on to something. Stop by my office after this, and we’ll work it out.”
She hadn’t been this proud of her work since she’d won the sales leader bonus four months in a row. “Will do.”
“Keep up the good work, ladies.” Tony ambled out.
Blaze typed herself a reminder to follow up with him. By the time she finished, Thomas had arrived. Moments later, the rest of the sales team took their seats, and she stood to start the meeting. As she reviewed the first report, another first happened—she spoke with the calm confidence of someone who was thoroughly prepared. She followed an agenda, had answers for each question, and a vision for her team. And she couldn’t stop smiling.
Anson’s strategy to “run into”Carter at the community center might not work. He’d been fired almost three weeks ago. Most days since, he’d run drills on the center’s basketball courts, hoping the student would show up. Still hadn’t. Nevertheless, Anson had nowhere else to be on a Wednesday night as Rooted met without him.
Last week’s youth group had bothered him less because Nolan had hosted and shared his testimony. Tonight, Rooted normally wouldn’t meet since it was the night before Thanksgiving. A fact Anson hadn’t mentioned when Blaze told him her plan to host the group and share part of her story. Despite knowing what she planned to say, Anson longed to be there. To support her. To watch the kids’ reactions. Instead, he was on a basketball court, waiting on a student who might never come.
He dipped into lunges while dribbling. His body had borne the brunt of his unoccupied time since he’d been fired. The initial soreness had faded, and his muscles responded to the workout with ease.
As kids came and went on the other side of the court, he worked through single-person drills. His mind and heart weren’t in it—they were wrapped up in prayers for Blaze and the students.
He took his first shot at the basket and missed the backboard entirely.
Walk me through the valley, Lord.
Even as he prayed, he fought doubts that this might not be a temporary valley. This sense of being adrift might be permanent. His new normal.
On second thought, God, you might need to carry me.
He sighed, rebounded the ball, and returned to the mark he’d been shooting from. A form appeared in the nearest doorway. He took his shot. It bounced off the rim. On his way to rebound, he checked to see who’d stopped.
Sydney waved as she stepped into the gym. She wore slacks and a plain black top, probably about to leave for the day. “You’ve always been fun to watch on a court.”
He passed the ball from one hand to the other. “Thanks.” They hadn’t spoken in months, aside from conversations required for youth group. He hadn’t expected a compliment to end the silence between them. “I heard you and Ray are stepping up for Branching Out. I’m glad.”
She crossed her arms and nodded. “It seemed like the thing to do. I know your heart for the group and wanted the mission to continue, even if you couldn’t be the one to do it.”
“Careful.” He returned to the line and shot again. This time, the ball went through the hoop. “My mission got me fired.”
“Sometimes, that’s what we’re called to.”
The ball bounced against the hardwood beneath the net, but Anson made no move to go get it. “Getting fired?”
“Or crucified. Or stoned. Or imprisoned. Or boils.”
“Boils?”
“Like Job. If you think about it, you could’ve been given a much harder assignment.”
He laughed and ran after the ball as he followed the idea. So many heroes of the faith had endured trials despite their obedience. He knew that, yet only now applied it to losing his job. Maybe he hadn’t misunderstood God’s leading. And if he hadn’t misheard last time, he could listen again now with some hope of getting it right. With the ball bracedbetween his wrist and side, he rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye.
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks, huh?”
