But Harold had lobbied for them. With this bigger venue, he said, it was the perfect time to step up the “show” part of the performance. Brian wanted the focus on the message in the songs. He thought the women would unnecessarily distract—and he also thought the matter had been settled. But the dancers showed up today anyway, with choreographed steps to his songs.
He moved easily across the outdoor stage in faded blue jeans and a shirt, melding with the rhythm, the words, the energy. He loved this part, connecting with the people, imparting truth that would stay with them long after he was gone, words they’d repeat at home or in the car or at school. They might not even get the words right now, but he always prayed God would give them understanding. That prayer had been answered through countless e-mails, letters, and posts on Twitter and his Facebook page about how his songs had led listeners to the Bible. For him, that’s what it was all about.
But music was also about business, a part he disliked more and more. Or maybe it was the people with whom he was doing business. He hadn’t sorted it all out, but with each passing week, that was the part that was challenging him.
Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything. It was a very real possibility that he’d be giving all this up shortly to focus solely on a years-long ambition, a PhD in biochemistry.
Brian came to his favorite part of the song, where he rattled off the names of God. He’d never forget God giving that to him over a bowl of cereal. The words were strung together beautifully in his head, already rhyming. He only had to write them down. He never would have believed God was calling him to do this, even on a secondary level, without moments like that, one after another. Brian Howard, Christian rapper? He hadn’t even been a big rap fan. Yet here he was.
The dancers struck their last pose as the song ended. Brian pumped his fist and took in the landscape of exuberant faces.
God, this is unbelievable, really unbelievable. Does this have anything to do with my prayers? Are You speaking through this?
“St. Louis, you’re awesome!” he said. “Thank you for the love and the support. Keep living out of this world, living for Christ.”
He gave a final fist-pump and turned, making his way through a black curtain at the back of the stage and down a set of steps, the dancers following. A security guy met him in the restricted outdoor area, then his manager and a dozen other faces, familiar and unfamiliar. Someone passed him a bottled water, and he took a long swig as they ushered him to a tent area set up for the talent.
“Alien! That was the bomb!”
“You rocked the house, dude!”
Red-shirted workers gave him kudos, and he gratefully shook their hands. It had taken him awhile to get used to being called Alien, his rap name. It was another thing he felt God had given him. He’d been studying 1 Peter when he was struck by the apostle calling Christians “aliens and strangers in the world.”
Harold put a hand on Brian’s shoulder as they walked. “Man, I’m telling you, you’re about to go to a whole new level. Did you see how that crowd responded? You’ve got the skills, but it’s more than that. They like you.” He pondered it, near giddy. “It’s that clean-cut, boy-next-door look. I’ve got to hand it to you, that was the right call. I wanted edgy, but you knew the image that would work.”
Brian glanced at his manager. “I’m just being me, Harold. That’s all I can be. But it’s not about me.” He stepped inside the tent. “Did you see all those arms raised in worship when I was praying? Gave me goose bumps. That was awesome.”
Harold pulled out his phone and started texting. “Yeah . . . that was something.”
Brian stared at him a second, waiting for more. Seemed whenever he wanted to rejoice in the spiritual side of an event, Harold was focused on business. That was his job, but still . . .
“I’m already on this.” Harold’s fingers flew across the phone. “Trying to figure out how we can capitalize on what we saw today. This is gonna be bigger than we thought. The demographic is wide open.”
“Don’t get carried away,” Brian said. “I told you, this is a summer of decision for me. I’m not