spent so much of her time doing things for others—enough that it made him feel unworthy. If he could come home from the meeting and present her with the funds—well, it might just make up some of the difference.
“You’re worried about more than just the meeting. What’s up?”
He pasted on a smile and glanced at her for just a moment. A hundred ways to tell her what was on his mind went through his head. But none of them would help right now, and he was late. “Just your average preacher jitters.”
She reached out and brushed her fingers down his hand before grabbing and squeezing. “You’re going to do great.”
Okay, now he was a real jerk for not telling her. He opened his mouth just as the reminder on his phone buzzed in his pocket. “I gotta go.”
“Go.” She grinned. “Be amazing. I’ll be here making knots in my yarn.”
“You’re the amazing one.” He touched her cheek and thrilled at the way the contact filled him up and made his heartbeat rush through his ears. On that feeling of floating, he rushed out the door and over to the church.
The board was already set up in their semicircle of chairs. He took the one facing them, much like he had in his interview, and hated the sense of being on trial. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He should have been here a half hour ago, shaking hands and kissing babies. Not that there were any babies in the room. There should be. They should have a building full of families.
The meeting started out like any other meeting. But it felt like there was more to it, like the very air was charged with anticipation.
Finally, Mrs. Miller announced the budget section of the meeting, taking a moment to acknowledge the generous donation and praising the Lord for opening the windows of heaven. Seth scooted forward in his chair and straightened his tie. A small bead of sweat trailed down his back, making him squirm. This was his chance.
Mr. White cleared his throat, taking command of the meeting. “I think we are all in agreement that receiving these funds now is a sign that we should increase our advertising for funeral arrangements and redo the parking lot.”
Seth stared down at his palms. He had calluses from shoveling, raking, and emptying the collections bag on the lawn mower. When he looked up, he found all of the heads around him nodding in agreement. “I know I’m new here,” he interrupted, “but I have an idea that I think might bring new life to this ministry.” His palms grew clammy as he took in the stern faces of the church board.
“New life?” barked Mr. Green. “If you haven’t noticed, son, most of our current congregation is more worried about the end of life.”
Mrs. Green elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t joke about death like that.” She turned to Seth like a teacher in a classroom. She very well could have been one once up on a time. “Go ahead, tell us what you have in mind.”
“I understand the concerns about taking care of the people who have been faithful parishioners. I do. But I also know that a ministry needs youth and families to thrive.” Seth hated how his voice sounded unsure. He had years of training in oration and speech, not to mention diction, so why was it so hard to express himself in front of these people? Perhaps it was because they held his future in their hands—or, more likely, because they held Evie’s future in their hands. He didn’t want to mess that up. He didn’t want to squander her faith in him.
“It would be nice to see a few cherub cheeks during Sunday services,” said Mrs. Miller.
Seth grabbed on to that small glimmer of hope like a man aching for a glass of water. “Yes. Yes! And to have a teen group. One that would meet during the week to offer support to youth and provide friendships for those who may feel alone in their faith at a delicate age.”
Mr. White shook his head. “Teen groups are a lot of work. They take volunteers. Where are you going to get them?”
Seth through a deep breath before answering. “For now, my wife and I will oversee the group.”
“You two are already doing so much.” Mrs. Miller shook her finger at him. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to wear that wife of yours out.”
“I doubt that’s possible. She