Hearts Surrender

by Marianne Evans

  She bit her lips together to ward off the pain, the ache of longing. Her counterparts didn’t even notice the fact that she’d retreated, inch by inch, during the course of the meal. They were so wrapped up in their own worlds they didn’t focus outward. Meanwhile, Kiara picked at her mandarin salad and did her best to simply endure.

  Conversation ebbed and flowed while she faded into the background and discreetly checked her watch again. She could make a getaway soon. A beautiful Sunday called, and she longed to spend it in a more productive, contented way.

  If only, if only, if only…

  “Hey, Kiara.”

  The summons came from behind and she braced against the sound of a deep, perfectly modulated voice. Kiara stifled a cringe, but it took tremendous effort. Andrew. Perfect. Her day glided into an even steeper downward angle. She wanted to scream she felt so displaced and sad. Now, on top of it all, Drew. She did the best and only thing she could. She surrendered herself for a few precious seconds, and prayed:

  Lord Jesus, please help me. I miss Ken so much. I miss the constancy of our connection during the mission trip. I miss the love we shared in furthering Your kingdom, and discovering one another. Lord, please help us and guide us according to Your will. I promise to try to trust You even more. I can’t fight any longer. Forgive me for even trying. I’m tired and I feel broken. Ease this ache, this longing that keeps tearing away at my spirit.

  Polite behavior dictated she turn and greet Drew, so that’s what she did, but all Kiara really wanted to do was leave. She wanted Ken.

  “Hi, Drew. How are you?”

  “Good.” He quickly scanned the faces of the people at the table. “Ah, if you have a few minutes, I’d like to talk to you.”

  Kiara’s mind raced through the scenario, and within it, she sensed an escape hatch. She could dismiss herself from the table, spend a moment or two with Drew, then leave. The promise of an imminent exit from 220 beckoned to her like beautiful music.

  So after a quick goodbye, a couple of air kisses to her girlfriends and empty-sounding promises of outings to come, Kiara shouldered her purse. She hitched her sweater from the chair and followed Drew to a couple of empty stools at the nearby bar where they settled.

  “Want a drink or anything?”

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  Drew just nodded. Kiara waited, and resisted the urge to check her watch for what had to be the dozenth time.

  “Welcome back,” he offered.

  Drew’s hesitance softened Kiara’s heart, and she smiled at him. “Thanks. It’s good to be home, but I’ll be honest. I miss the Kidwells already. I love what we were able to accomplish for them. It was the best—we helped fixed a roof, built a bedroom addition, landsca—”

  Drew wasn’t really listening. His attention was focused elsewhere. As her words trailed off, he reached out to touch Kiara’s wrist. Brows knit, he studied the simple and precious bracelet that had not left her possession since Amber settled it into place.

  “What's this?” he asked.

  His interruption struck her as rude, and his tone felt accusing. In counterpoint, she kept her reply smooth. “A gift from the family we helped out. It was made for me by one of the kids.”

  Andrew shrugged, and made a noncommittal sound. Meanwhile Kiara touched the beads, absorbing the memory of faith and love, the gratitude built in to each one. Her focus rested on the piece as a memory slid against her like satin.

  “Thank you—for being the face of Christ to these people, Kiara, in word and in deed. Your commitment has made a huge difference in their lives.”

  Ken's words sang through her mind, a source of reassurance. In phantom, she felt his kiss, his tender touch. Most of all, though, his powerful example lent her fledgling spirit some much-needed strength of resolve, as well as the assurance of God’s unconditional love.

  Andrew interrupted those thoughts. “You know? I have to say, I just don’t get it. Frankly, I'm shocked that someone as worldly as you would get pulled in by a program like that. I mean, they're fine enough I suppose, but at the end of the day—”

  “They’re fine enough? Someone as worldly as me? Gee. Thanks for the show of support, Drew. This was, and is, important to me.”

  His eyes widened with surprise. “OK. I get it.”

  She sighed inwardly, saying, “I wish you did. What about the equation of me helping people and committing myself to God, doesn't make sense, Drew?”

  For a moment, he just looked uncomfortable. He shrugged again, and astonishment flooded her. To think, just a short time ago she had been tempted to abandon her core dreams and beliefs in favor of a sensual odyssey with this man. Paris had called, as had the fleeting promise, and arms, of a successful, sexy man who, at his center, remained woefully empty.

  It occurred to Kiara that chasing a placebo to loneliness might very well have been her undoing. Self-doubt may have cost her one of the most precious relationships God could provide.

  Images skimmed and weaved through her mind, then clicked into focus like a high-res digital photo display: Amy and Tyler’s playful sparring, Ken leading a campfire bonding session, the simple and breathtaking beauty of a country lake, its surrounding woods and the stars sparkling above, a grateful, jubilant family.

  But it was Ken's image that repeated most often. The most powerful recollection was not of his pastoral uniform—the crisp black suit and white collar—nor his formal vestments. Instead, she recalled him decked out in an old WSU sweatshirt speckled by a trace of grease. Her heart held fast to the way he kept an ancient van in shape because it ran great, shuttled batches of kids efficiently, and remained reliable and performance-ready by virtue of his caring hand and commitment.

  Even in loneliness and longing, Kiara treasured the time she had spent working side by side with him, helping a destitute family struggling to overcome life's harshest blows. Her heart swelled, filled by a love deeper, richer and more intoxicating than any emotion she had ever known.

  At last, Drew continued. “You asked why this doesn’t make sense to me. You want my answer? Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because in all honesty it’s the reason why I want to talk to you.”

  Kiara waited. Meanwhile, Drew shifted in his seat. His disquiet seemed to grow. “I guess I'm more than a little surprised.”

  “At?”

  “At you.” He faced her fully now, and the look on his face made her bristle. There was dark challenge in his eyes. Big-time skepticism. “I have to admit, it surprises me that the modern-thinking, enlightened woman I know and wanted to get to know even better, has turned into a Jesus freak all because her pastor is some kind of an idealistic do-gooder.”

  How Kiara kept from gasping aloud would remain a forever mystery, attributable only to years of well-practiced control and emotional shielding. She blinked a few times. She leaned back and away from the close proximity of their shared space at the bar. Her voice, however, she regulated to low and even. “Ken Lucerne isn’t a do-gooder. He lends a helping hand to those in need. Yes, that’s idealistic. But my question to you is: when did that become something negative?”

  “Maybe it’s a jealousy factor,” he retorted hotly. “Maybe I’m being negative because all you’ve been doing lately is singing his praises. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were going all warm and cozy for your religion and a man of the cloth who’s transforming you into something you’re really not.. You—one of the most cosmopolitan people I know. I mean, Jes—”

  “Stop it right there. And while we’re at it, stop thinking you know me well enough to make any kind of informed judgments about my life.”

  “You mean to tell me you intend to waste that beauty,” he gestured at her expansively, “that body,” he gestured again. “And that sex appeal of yours? Get serious, Kiara!” With that, he sank against the edge of the bar and just stared.

  Each word he spoke socked into her stomach like a fist, robbing her of precious air. She looked at
him for an open-mouthed second and Andrew continued hotly. “Oh, come on! Are you surprised I feel this way? You're too intelligent and too vibrant a woman to waste time on the moral opiate of religion. That's not what life's about.”

  This time her breath caught. “Wow,” she whispered. She shook her head, feeling hot and dizzy. “Just…wow.” Kiara’s breaking point came and went. “Let me make something clear to you, Drew. In my world, the sacrifice and love of my Lord and Savior isn’t a moral opiate; it’s the entire universe.” She stood abruptly and hoisted her purse from the next seat. She yanked her sweater from its spot on the bar ledge and balled it in her fist. To heck with cashmere. “All I'm going to add is this: If being a Jesus Freak kept me from making the mistake of taking a hedonistic voyage with you to Europe, and kept me from a relationship that would have ended in emptiness and disaster, then I say more power to Him.”

  Kiara spun away; Andrew grabbed her hand. She jerked free of his touch, but stayed put while he said, “This kind of overreaction is exactly what I’m talking about. Sit down and stop acting so offended!”

  She’d thought she couldn’t be any more shocked. She was woefully wrong. “You ridicule my beliefs, mock a part of my life that’s increasingly important to me, a part of my life I’m exploring, and growing into, yet you tell me to not act offended? Well here’s a clue, Drew, I’m not acting.”

  His gaze darted left and right, no doubt checking for eavesdroppers and the attention of nearby patrons. “Would you lighten up? Seriously, do you see yourself as being that, I don't know, holy? Or righteous?” His tone made it sound like the terms holy and righteous were a bad thing. Thank God she had learned differently.

  There was no need for more. Kiara shook her head, giving him a long, last look. “Goodbye, Drew.”

  Without another word, she left the restaurant. Her eyes stung, yet remained miraculously dry. She gasped a bit, struggling to still herself and just breathe as she strode to the nearby public lot where she had parked her car. She slid behind the wheel and started to drive. Tears built, periodically blurring her vision. Once they fell, Kiara dashed them away with a careless swipe; anger burbled through her bloodstream until she thought she would overflow with a blend of sadness and rage.

  Not fully realizing her intent, not even aware of the direction she took, Kiara pulled into the parking lot at Woodland and stopped. There she sat in the car, resting her head on the steering wheel, finally letting the sobs overwhelm.

  Nobody would understand her now. No one would recognize the impact of God’s presence, or the turning of her heart toward service and faith rather than self-centered pursuits. But that was OK.

  Because God does. Because, no matter what comes to be between the two of us, Ken does, too.

  Right now, she wanted Woodland’s sanctuary. She wanted Ken’s presence, his tenderness, so desperately. At the same time, she heard the echo of Andrew’s every word. The conversation brought her worst fears and self-doubts into a sharp and unforgiving focus. She wasn’t worthy. She didn’t deserve a man like Ken. Her life, to the point of meeting him, had been too vivid a compilation of unsuccessful relationships and selfish pursuits, the pain of which she masked with empty moments in dimly lit clubs and bars, competitive professional pursuits. The resulting circle of friends, save a few, weren’t truly friends, for they didn’t know her in the least. Hers was a quest for fulfillment. Yet the closer she came to authentic contentment, the more those around her watched in confusion.

  Everyone except Ken. He thoroughly understood her evolution as a Christian; he encouraged her attempts and saw past her failures at faith building. Furthermore, in his hands rested the unquestioned key to her heart and happiness.

  Dear Jesus, she prayed in silence, please help me. I’m trying. I want to be worthy of You. I want to be worthy of a man who carries Your word and mission and truth into the world. I feel inadequate, and unfit to travel the pathway You’re opening up in my heart, yet it answers every longing I have. I want to serve You, and I want to fulfill that role at Ken’s side. Is that Your will? Is that Your plan? I just don’t know. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I leave everything to You in surrender and trust. I want to give more of myself to You, Lord. Please give me the chance. Please help me.”

  In the calm, pervasive stillness that filled the car, Kiara fought to regain control. She grabbed a couple tissues from the storage compartment next to her seat. She dabbed her eyes, and cleared her runny nose. Steadying her trembles, she exited the car, considering a plan. She’d go inside and pray. She’d rest for a time inside the church.

  That’s when she surveyed the grounds of Woodland…

  And there he was.

  Hearts Surrender: Woodland Series

  17

  Ken walked the perimeter of the pond, tossing bread bits to the newest members of Woodland’s family—a flock of Canadian geese. Kiara’s heart performed a somersault, expanding with an emotion so powerful, so perfect it could only be captured in one small word. Love.

  So this is what it felt like to leave behind a world full of haze and smoggy pollution to come upon fresh air, warmth and a tender, perfect light.

  Overwhelmed once more, tears filled her eyes. She didn’t even care. Need spurred her forward. She left the car behind and literally ran to him.

  When he heard her footfalls, he turned, an expression of curiosity transforming immediately to concern when he saw her face. He didn’t speak, and either did Kiara. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted…she wanted…

  At that exact moment, he opened his arms.

  Kiara tumbled into his embrace and Ken held her steady and sure. He rubbed her back, and silently squeezed her tight.

  Home. Her soul came to sureness and rest. This is home.

  A sigh passed through her body, exiting on a soft release of air as she tried to wipe away tears. Ken still wore his pastoral uniform—the black slacks and shirt—the white collar and black suit coat. Her tears fell and she tried to pull away so she wouldn’t make a mess of him, but he held her fast. Kiara rejoiced. Laying her head on his shoulder, she snuggled close and slid her fingertips beneath the lapel of his jacket, breathing in the sandalwood scent of him. “I’m blubbering all over you.”

  “It’s OK. I missed you at services today. Very much. It was like a piece of me went missing.”

  Urgency coated his words. She knew the feeling well, so she opened herself and responded from the heart. “I’m so sorry for not being here. You have no idea what a mistake I made. But I learned something important today, if that’s any consolation.”

  Ken swayed slightly, taking her with him on a subtle dance. “What’s that?”

  “It seems God can teach me a lesson whether I attended church or not.” She leaned back, wanting to look into his eyes. She absolutely loved those sparkling, gentle eyes. “You’re still dressed for work,” she observed lamely. “Am I interrupting?”

  He visually puzzled while studying her face. “Not at all. I’m headed to St. John’s Hospital in a couple hours. I found out Pat Dunleavy is having an emergency heart cath procedure, so I want to visit him.”

  Typical. Did he have any clue at all what a miracle he was? Probably not. Meanwhile his warm, calloused fingertips slid against her cheek. He looked into her eyes, waiting on explanations. Kiara felt her eyes fill again, whether from gratitude for his presence or gratitude for peace and joy, she couldn’t quite tell anymore. Cushioned within the haven of Ken’s arms, she didn’t even care.

  “Come here, angel.” He led her to a metal bench positioned at the edge of a pathway that cut through the lush grounds of the church. There they sat. Before them rolled a deep green carpet of grass that was pleasingly damp and dewy smelling. A few hearty, last-of-summer blooms colored the scene. Old trees with thick trunks held leaves bursting with fiery color. The pond and its geese, the arch of Parishoner’s Bridge spanning its width, formed a lovely scene.

  Ken fingered back the fall of her hair and slid it over her shoulder. He
settled his arm along the curved back of the bench, opening himself, encouraging her close. She tucked in gratefully at his side.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

  This wasn’t a pastor asking a church member. This was man to woman. The difference was distinct, and bone melting. Lord, she beseeched, please, please let there be love here. Deep, holy, abiding love…

  The instant his arm slid against her shoulder, the moment he drew her into the warm, solid wall of his body, Kiara wanted nothing but to dissolve into the respite he offered.

  “Just for now, can explanations wait? Can I please just rest here? With you? It’s all I want.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  Kiara tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder and closed her eyes, doing just as she wished, and dreamed. She allowed herself to melt away and go absolutely calm, thinking: If I could only have this for a lifetime...

  “Why is it I get so emotional around you?” she asked. “Why do all my emotions rise to the surface and spill over, whenever I’m with you?”

  “Because you’re safe. I promise that. I’ll try not to hurt you, or ever judge.”

  Kiara dipped her head, wiping her eyes with fingertips that were already moist. On cue, Ken handed her a handkerchief. Accepting the offering, she gave him a watery laugh. “I still have the one you gave me at Jeffrey’s baptism, plus the one from Pennsylvania. My collection seems to be growing. I should get them back to you, but I keep forgetting.”

  Ken leaned in and dotted her nose with a lingering kiss. “Don’t worry about that.” He paused for a beat. “What happened, Kiara?”

  It was time. It was time for the ultimate heart gambit—with God guiding the way. In His hands, no matter what the outcome, she knew without question she’d find a way to goodness, and grace. Such was her newfound faith.

  So, Kiara took a deep breath. She looked out, at the waterline of Lake Saint Clair across the horizon, at the fiery tree leaves that heralded autumn in Michigan. Sunlight danced in and out of large, gray puffs of pure white clouds, painting the world around them in vivid, tantalizing colors.