by Nancy Moser
“You and the baby would have all sorts of support.” Merry laced her fingers together. “And babysitters.”
They were jumping way ahead. “I’m not ready to give up on my marriage. That wouldn’t be fair to Forbes. Or to me. So I can’t move—”
“But you could stay for awhile,” Claire said. “Wouldn’t some distance be…helpful?”
Susan knew it would. She had a lot of thinking to do. And praying. She would talk with Forbes, tell him she needed some time to sort things through. As did he. “But what about my job?”
Claire pondered that. “What do you do?”
I’m a nurse.
Merry clapped her hands once. “We have a hospital. I’m sure they could find a position for you.”
Susan put a hand to her forehead, trying to take it all in. “But where would we live?”
Merry patted the love seat. “You could live here. For now. Until you get your own place. Until you decide what you want to do with—”
Susan stopped her. “What God wants me to do with my marriage.”
Merry shrugged, then nodded.
Sim leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. She took Susan’s hands in hers and looked her straight in the eyes. “Let’s do it, Aunt Susan. It feels right. I know it’s right.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. Sim sat back. They shared an awkward silence. Susan’s emotions collided; she felt relief, but also great sorrow. If she’d thought life was complicated before…
And yet one thing was clear: Sim’s coming to Steadfast was not a coincidence.
Nothing was.
Epilogue
Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess,
for he who promised is faithful.
HEBREWS 10:23
“YOU LOOK GREAT.” Claire stood back to get a better look.
“Very pretty,” Aunt Susan said.
“Not bad for a cool chick,” Merry said.
Sim shook her head. “I always feel like a freak on the first day of school. Especially this year.” She shook her head and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. “Who would have thought I’d ever wear a skirt to school?”
“I called the ten o’clock news.” Claire winked. “They’re doing a special feature.”
Sim rolled her eyes, then checked them in the hall mirror. Her eye shadow was a nice, neutral shade, her lids unlined. She liked the look. She noticed the three women watching her. “What?”
“I’m feeling very blessed.” Aunt Susan put her hand on her belly.
“Yeah, yeah, praise the Lord, I’m a gem.”
“Don’t be impudent, Sim.” Claire nudged her. “I didn’t come visit to hear such piffle.”
“Piffle?”
“It’s a new word.”
Sim ran a finger over her lip gloss. “Actually, you didn’t come down here to see me off on my first day of school at all. You came to find a place for your new studio.”
“And to see you. And to see you.”
Sim gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, yes. The pain of second billing.”
Claire flicked the tip of her nose. “Oh, you.” Then she put her hands behind her neck and unclasped her cross necklace. “Turn around, kiddo.”
Sim couldn’t believe it. She shook her head. “Claire, you don’t have to—”
“I want to. It was my grandmother’s. Since you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a daughter, it’s yours.”
Sim’s throat tightened. She turned around and let Claire fasten the clasp. “Thank you.”
Claire kissed the top of Sim’s head. “You’re welcome.”
Sim took one final look in the mirror. She liked the feel of the cross against her skin. She touched it and suddenly understood Claire’s familiar gesture. There was comfort in the cross’s presence. She’d never take it off.
She thought of another thank-you that was due. “And Merry, thank you for the new outfit. I love it. But you shouldn’t have spent so much on me.”
“Face it, she’s a pushover,” Aunt Susan said.
They all were. Sim had never been so content. Just two weeks previous she and Susan had gotten their own place—a permanent place, since Uncle Forbes had decided he didn’t want to work on the marriage after all. He didn’t want to be a husband anymore, or a dad at all. Apparently without the free use of Sim’s trust fund, the advantages of having a family had paled. He’d shocked everyone when he’d been the one to ask Aunt Susan for a divorce.
Whatever. His loss was Sim’s gain.
Her aunt was having a hard time letting him go, feeling guilty and dwelling on if-onlys. But every day she was getting stronger. And Sim’s unborn brother or sister was getting bigger. Yes indeed, life was good.
Sim hooked her backpack over her shoulder and pivoted toward the door. “Ta-ta, ladies.” She stopped with one hand on the knob. “You’re not going to be waiting for me after school with milk and cookies, are you?”
Aunt Susan put her hand on her chin, her eyes wide, considering. “It’s a thought…”
“Then make them chocolate chip.”
“You got it.”
Sim grinned. “And you call Merry a pushover?”
She left them to argue the point without her.
Bailey was just leaving for work when the phone rang.
“I’m calling for Jered Manson.”
“He’s not here.”
“Where can I get ahold of him?”
Good question. “Who is this?”
“My name’s Jamison Smith. I’m an executive with Hiptone Music.”
Bailey changed the phone to the other ear. “What do you want with my son?”
“A while back I got a call from Sim Kellogg about him. She said he was interested in having some of his songs heard.”
Jered really had songs? He’d actually composed something?
“Sir? You there?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here. But I’m afraid I don’t know where Jered is.”
“Why not?”
“He’s…he’s taken a sabbatical.”
Jamison laughed. “Yeah, right. Whatever. Well, if you see him, let him know I called.”
“But what do you have to offer him?”
“Nothing unless I hear from him. Hey, I’m just doing Sim a favor—better late than never. I don’t know if your son has talent or not. And even if I heard his stuff, who knows if I could do anything with it. But I certainly can’t do something with nothing. Here’s my number. Tell him to call.”
Bailey jotted down the number, then hung up. He stared at the slip of paper, unseeing. Jered really was a musician. His dream was viable. He had a chance.
But he was gone. And Bailey had driven him away.
Jered had chosen the park in Kansas City because he needed a place to sleep. The alley he’d parked in had been the scene of a mugging the night before, so he decided it was time for yet another change of residence.
He pulled his truck into the far end of a parking lot, under the shade of a tree, and curled up on the seat. The lowered window let in some much-needed air, and the sounds of kids playing and a ball game going on nearby helped lull him to sleep. It was a quiet place. A safer place.
Laughter woke him. Hard laughter. Bitter laughter. He sat up and found it was dark. The dome of the nearest streetlight just missed his truck. In fact, no vehicles were parked within the brightness of the lights, as if the other, laughing tenants had purposely chosen the shadows to conduct their business.
And there was business going on.
Though Jered had never gotten into drugs, he’d seen enough during the past month to know what a drug deal looked like. And the shadowed meeting that was happening across the lot fit the image.
He scooted down in the seat, hoping not to be seen. He wanted to drive away but knew that the sound of the truck’s engine would draw attention, and they would immediately brand him a witness— to whatever was going on.
The bass beat of a stereo preceded the sound of another car coming
into the lot. It pulled near the others, and the bass beat died. Shouts. Laughter. Bottles breaking.
Jered’s back hurt from the odd position. He needed to move. If only he could turn on his side and slide—
Bam! The truck shuddered with the slam of a hand. “Hey! What choo doin in der?”
Jered tried to see the face belonging to the voice but only saw two silhouettes standing outside the cab of the truck, one on each side. Suddenly the truck rocked and two more figures jumped into the truck bed.
I’m dead. Literally dead.
A hand reached through the open window and unlocked the driver’s door. It was yanked open and a face appeared inside. A sneering face. A mocking face. A challenging face. “You like watchin’ what we’re doing, don cha, man?”
Jered swallowed, his mind searching for something—anything— that would make foe into friend. “I like doing better. Got any beer?”
The face laughed and withdrew, pulling Jered with him. “Sure. Come on, kid. You want some beer? I’m sure we can find something you’d like.”
The face put his arm around Jered and led him away.
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
PSALM 139:7-10
The publisher and author would love to hear your comments about this book. Please contact us at: www.multnomah.net/nancymoser
VERSES FOR A STEADFAST SURRENDER
PROLOGUE
Hiding/Job 34:21-22
CHAPTER 1
Riches/James 1:11
Thirst/Psalm 63:1
Opportunity/Colossians 4:2-6
CHAPTER 2
Seek/Matthew 7:7
Sacrifice/Mark 10:17-23
CHAPTER 3
Sacrifice/2 Samuel 24:24
Giving/Luke 12:48
Hope/1 Peter 3:15
Blessings/James 1:17
Widow’s mite (paraphrased)/Mark 12:41-44
Giving/2 Corinthians 9:7
Calling/John 10:3
Wounds/Isaiah 53:5
CHAPTER 4
Sacrifice/Luke 9:61-62
Blessings/James 1:17
Calling/Isaiah 6:8
CHAPTER 5
Jesus/Philippians 3:8
Light/2 Samuel 22:29
CHAPTER 6
Work/2 Chronicles 15:7
CHAPTER 7
Trust/Proverbs 3:5-6
Waiting/Psalm 37:7
Charge!/Jeremiah 46:9
Waiting/Zephaniah 3:8
Waiting/Psalm 27:14
Waiting/Isaiah 30:18
CHAPTER 8
Pursuits/2 Timothy 2:22
CHAPTER 9
Perseverance/Jam es 1:2-4
Pride/Proverbs 16:18
CHAPTER 10
Fulfillment/Proverbs 13:12
CHAPTER 11
Love/Proverbs 3:3-4
CHAPTER 12
Direction/Psalm 119:35-36
CHAPTER 13
Sin/Jeremiah 9:5
CHAPTER 14
Dissension/2 Corinthians 12:20
CHAPTER 15
Protection/Psalm 91:14
CHAPTER 16
Sin/James 4:17
CHAPTER 17
Self-image/Galatians 6:3
CHAPTER 18
Trials/James 1:2-3
CHAPTER 19
Yes/Isaiah 52:6
Yes!/Isaiah 6:8
CHAPTER 20
Fleeing/Jonah 1:3
Comfort/Revelation 21:4
CHAPTER 21
Pruning/John 15:1-2
Comfort/Romans 8:31
CHAPTER 22
Redemption/Colossians 1:13-14
CHAPTER 23
Motives/1 Corinthians 4:5
Strength/Ecclesiastes 4:12
CHAPTER 24
Love/Psalm 31:7
CHAPTER 25
God’s work/Habakkuk 1:5
EPILOGUE
Hope/Hebrews 10:23
Hope/Psalm 139:7-10
Dear Readers:
Every novel evolves during the writing process, but some stories go through a drastic metamorphosis. That is the case with A Steadfast Surrender. The idea started with a newspaper article four years ago about a transient who was found living in the attic of an old library. Interesting. The first character I put up in my attic was an angel named Gilroy who only spoke in Bible verses. Gilroy teamed up with an orphan boy named Sim in a story called The Secret Son that focused on the boy—and the town keeping his secret. Whatever. Yawn.
Wisely I let Gilroy dissipate into character heaven and replaced him with a woman named Claire… I have always been fascinated with the story of the rich man who asks Jesus how he can get to heaven. Mark 10:21 says: “Jesus looked at him and loved him. ‘One thing you lack,’ he said. ‘Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’” Not liking the answer, the man walked away—“because he had great wealth.” What if someone felt compelled to give up everything? It’s just not done. The world would think they were crazy. I called the hugely revised manuscript The Outcast.
Then in 2002 my own faith was challenged. I found myself consumed with a new issue: total surrender to God. Up until then I thought I had surrendered to Him, but little by little, God showed me I was still holding back. It was during this time that I realized my story—about a woman who gives up all her material things—was not a complete representation of the biblical story. We each have a different “everything” that’s important in our lives, that stands between us and total surrender to the Father. To my character it was her possessions and fame; to someone else it might be pride, or hobbies, or stubbornness, or… At this point, the manuscript went through another transformation that made the story richer, deeper, more applicable to our lives. At this point I sold it to Multnomah Publishers.
But that pesky title, The Outcast… I have never had trouble titling a book. But this time, I must have made a list of a hundred possibilities, none quite right. And time was running out. The story was in place, but the tide was not. Then one day I heard Sara Groves sing “This Journey Is My Own.” The lyrics matched the essence of my book exactly. (It could have been written as my book’s theme song!) Especially when I heard the line, “Now I live and breathe for an audience of One.” Later that day I realized I’d been given that phrase the month before as I listened to Lee Strobel quote Søren Kirkegaard: “We are all players for an audience of One.” This could not be a coincidence.
Okay. Go ahead. Point out that the name of this book is A Steadfast Surrender, not An Audience of One. That’s another evolution. But the point is that the phrase “an audience of One” became vital to the book and helped further form the plot into a story about not caring about the accolades of man and saying yes to God (before we even know the question). This phrase is even quoted in the book, affecting the faith and lives of the characters as it has affected me.
As I hope it affects you. So go on. Live your life for an audience of One, in total, steadfast surrender. You’ll never regret it.
And may all your metamorphoses be as satisfying as mine has been. The joy is in the journey.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
What was your initial reaction when Claire gave up her fame and possessions to follow Jesus?
What would people’s reactions be if you did such a thing? Would you do such a thing?
If your “everything” is not possessions or status, what stands between you and total surrender to God? Can you surrender that now? Why or why not?
Do you think Claire should have gone back to her art? Why or why not?
What nudges have you experienced from God and what have they
led you to do? Or did you say no?
If you have ever lost someone close to you, have you ever created a kind of shrine to their memory? Did it help? Did it hinder healing? Do you still have it?
What would you like to see happen in order for Aunt Susan and Uncle Forbes to reconcile?
Who have you known like Bailey—consumed with his or her own dreams at the expense of others?
What do you think will happen to Jered?
IS THERE A HERO IN YOU?
That strange, snoring, legroom-invading person next to you on the airplane—have you ever imagined owing your life to him? Nancy Moser tells the gripping story of five passengers and their seatmates who get casually acquainted—then plunge headlong into an icy river in a sudden plane crash. The moments that follow are more intense than any they have ever lived, changing the way the passengers see God and the meaning of life itself. This book reveals the eternal impact a brief interaction can have and the drastic measures it takes for some to reexamine their souls.
ISBN 978-1-57673-884-9
“If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.”
Julia, Walter, Kathy and Natalie: four ordinary people with little in common, until each of them receives a small white invitation from an anonymous sender. It reads: “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed… nothing will be impossible for you. Please come to Haven, Nebraska.” At first, they all resist. But amazing circumstances convince them that they should heed the call and go to Haven. In this rerelease of The Invitation, Nancy Moser crafts a captivating story of everyday people who come to realize that even a small faith, combined with a heart led by God, can change the world.
ISBN 978-1-57673-352-3
They never imagined doing God’s will would make them targets for evil…
Book two in Nancy Moser’s Mustard Seed series is the continuing story of four ordinary people whose lives are forever changed after they are invited to the very supernatural town of Haven, Nebraska. The paths of Natalie, Walter, Kathy, Del, and Julia are once again joined in a quest of faith—and a battle against the forces determined to stop them—as they implement the decisions and direction they received in The Invitation and discover the meaning of Matthew 7:7: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” When the heat’s turned up and the enemy unleashes his greatest opposition, the Havenites learn that it’s not enough to know what’s right—one must, with God’s help, do what’s right. No matter what the cost.
