Cherished - By Kim Cash Tate Page 0,105

said.

Monica approached them next, her eyes teary. “Brian, I see why you didn’t let me hear that particular song until now.” She glanced at Kelli. “I knew you two had a history, but I didn’t know it ran that deep. That was so moving. I could only praise God as I listened.”

Brian was grateful for this first bit of feedback. “I appreciate that, Monica. It wasn’t easy to tell that story.”

“But it’ll impact so many. I know it will.” She looked at Kelli. “I loved that song when you played it for me, but I see now why it wasn’t meant to be. You two were meant to do it together.” She paused. “Actually, you were meant to do this whole album together. What a beautiful story.”

Kelli smiled, hanging on to Brian’s hand. “Thank you, Monica. That means a lot to me.”

Brian spotted the teen girls whose shirts he had signed, waiting behind Monica. He pulled Kelli forward and introduced her to them.

The smiley giggles were gone. One of them was crying.

Kelli let Brian’s hand go and hugged her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m eighteen,” she said, “and I made the same choice last year.” Her chest heaved. “I know God forgives me, but I couldn’t forgive myself. I grew up in a good Christian family, and they don’t even know. I felt so alone, like I was the only one who had done something like this.” She looked at Brian. “Thank you. I loved you before, but I really love you now. That video was so freeing for me, just to be able to focus on God’s grace and mercy.”

Kelli smiled. “That’s the song that’s playing right now. His grace and mercy have covered you.” She tugged on the girl’s hand. “It took me a long time to believe that, so I’m telling you now— believe it. Okay?”

The girl nodded, fresh tears spilling. “Can I dedicate that same love song to my baby?”

Kelli glanced at Brian, her own tears welling, and he knew what she was thinking. She couldn’t believe the song was already providing comfort to someone else.

“Oh, absolutely you can,” Kelli said.

For the next hour, they heard similar stories from people in the signing line. Many, though, simply shared how moved they were by the video and song. Brian and Kelli sat side by side, marveling at the reactions, focusing on each individual. But although Brian was encouraged, he wasn’t totally relieved. This was a highly supportive crowd. What would happen Tuesday when the song was officially released? What would the masses say? What would they think of him?

Brian’s ear was tuned to the sequence of the songs. When the last track neared the end, he told Kelli they needed to wrap it up and head back to the stage. As soon as the crowd saw them up there, they howled as if they hadn’t seen them all night.

“Does that mean you liked Love Letters?” Brian asked.

As they yelled affirmation, Brian looked at Kelli. “Can you believe this? All those hours, all that prayer.”

Kelli smiled. “God is faithful.”

Brian faced the crowd again. “Now that you’ve had a chance to hear all the songs, for the rest of the evening—”

“Hey! Wait!”

He turned. Logan was coming up the stairs.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Brian said, “one minute, please. This is Logan Duncan, our assistant worship pastor here at Living Word.”

The crowd gave Logan a shout-out, especially the ladies.

Logan whispered in Brian’s ear.

“You’re saying they haven’t heard all the songs?” Brian’s jaw dropped as he listened. He checked the back of the CD. “There’s a hidden bonus track on my album?”

He stared at Kelli with a look of shock. A second later he had his arm around Logan with a wide grin.

“Okay, I have a confession to make, everybody,” he said. “You heard twelve love letters—a love letter to our baby, to the world, to those who are suffering, to young men and young women, to the least of these, to fellow aliens”—he waited as they cheered—“to the fearfully and wonderfully made, and so on.” He paused. “But there’s one love letter you haven’t heard yet—my love letter to Kelli.”

Gasps and choruses of “Aww . . .” sounded from the crowd.

Kelli’s hand went to her chest as she looked at Brian.

“You all heard what I put her through, how I misused God’s good and perfect gift . . . when I should’ve cherished her, as God does. My friend here, Logan, did the song with me, and I’m dedicating it to Kelli. We’re about to