than Charlotte as she only invited me to church every six months.
“I’m glad you came this morning,” Charlotte said, elbowing me as we sat down on the pew before the service started. “I was starting to get concerned.”
“Why?”
“You keep your feelings wrapped up tight. I never know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I shrugged. “I’ve just been busy.”
She smiled as if there was a deeper answer, but she knew better than to press the issue. I stared straight ahead, and we waited as people filtered in and sat down. It was a large congregation, so I felt a small measure of privacy. I was just one out of thousands, and I liked it that way.
When Pastor Steve Walker got up to preach, he turned to Philippians 2:3-9. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
I felt instant conviction and was reminded why I hadn’t gone to church lately. Every time I heard scripture read, I had an ache in my chest and knew I wasn’t living the way God wanted me to live. It was as if Pastor Steve held up a mirror, forcing me to take a look inside. It was ugly and painful and I didn’t like it.
At the end of the sermon, Pastor Steve prayed, and I wanted to ask God to make me into a man who followed in Christ’s footsteps, but I couldn’t bring myself to make that commitment. Putting others first wasn’t an easy task. Doing what Jesus did by dying on a cross was almost over the top to me. I was thankful He’d sacrificed Himself, but I didn’t understand that kind of love. It was beyond my comprehension.
After the service was over, I went straight home and changed into sweats and a t-shirt and began my jog through the neighborhood. I worked out every day in preparation for the Warrior Obstacle Challenge, and it was one of the few things that relieved my stress. There was nothing like having the wind blow through your hair as your feet pounded against the pavement. It was a solitary activity, and it gave me time to think without all the distractions.
I often took a route that led into town, and as I jogged by a deli, the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air, causing my stomach to growl. A homeless man sat on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, his clothes so dirty they looked as if he’d dragged them through the mud. This was an expensive side of town, but it wasn’t uncommon for the homeless to wander through on occasion. This man was waiting for a handout, but I didn’t have cash with me. He’d probably use it for drugs, anyway. I bit back my irritation that he was hogging the walkway, making it difficult for anyone to get by. I would have to veer into the street if I didn’t want to run into him.
Just as I was about to go around him, he stood and lifted a hand. “Could you help me out—”
“Not today.” I waved politely and kept going, feeling slightly guilty for not assisting him, especially considering the message Pastor Steve gave, but I didn’t have time for this. Someone else would have to help.
***
On Monday morning, my secretary, Verity, transferred a call to me from Maya, and Maya told me she would be ready to take the position after she’d given two weeks’ notice to her current boss. I hadn’t thought she’d say yes, so it came as a surprise.
After our disastrous date, I’d felt bad for the way things had gone. I’d pushed her buttons, and she’d stood up to me. She had no idea how beautiful she was when she was on fire, not that she cared about my opinion.
Charlotte was partly to blame for how things had gone. If she’d told me ahead of time that the date was with Maya, I would have