Short Story #2

Here’s another short story I wrote and sent to Woman’s World, but it wasn’t accepted. (I read that the magazine receives about 2,000 stories a month for the 4 slots they have available. That’s fierce competition!)

DOUBLE TAKE

Gretchen’s stomach rumbled as she walked along the crowded downtown sidewalk beside her friend, Myra. They were taking a late lunch, and Gretchen was thankful for the break from her busy job.

         Myra glanced at her watch. “It’s almost one-thirty. Most of these people are walking back to their offices. At least the restaurant won’t be crowded.”

Gretchen opened her mouth to comment just as a handsome businessman, wearing a navy blue suit, bumped into her elbow. He glanced at her. “Sorry.” He looked away but then did a double take, his green eyes gazing into hers.

Then he was gone.

Gretchen watched his retreating back, feeling like an eternity had passed in that one moment.

“Oh rats!” Myra’s voice penetrated her thoughts. A small line stood outside the door of the Bistro. “Looks like everyone else is taking a late lunch.”

“Did you see that good-looking guy I bumped into?”

Myra stopped at the end of the line. “That man in the blue suit?” She laughed. “He’s probably married with 2.5 kids. When you get to be my age, you’ll stop thinking about men and concentrate on your career.”

“I already tried that.” Gretchen took a step forward as the line moved. “Remember my boyfriend, Jeff? He said I was working too much, and now he’s history.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could quit.”

         “You do?” Myra look incredulous. “Hey, you have a dream job, girlfriend.” She ticked off her fingers. “The only secretary of the big boss, your own private office, a whole wall of windows with a panoramic view, and a big fat paycheck.”

         “There’s a problem with that dream—the big boss.” Gretchen shook her head.

         Myra lowered her voice. “Mr. Whitten won’t be your boss forever. He’s getting old.”

         Gretchen had to laugh. “That man is a workaholic—he’ll never retire. This afternoon he has an important meeting at two o’clock with some V.I.P., but I’m not rushing back.”

         An hour later, Gretchen entered her office and looked out the windows over the city. Myra was right. She should be thankful for this job. But then her thoughts drifted to the handsome guy on the sidewalk. What would it be like to date a gorgeous man like that?

Before she took another step, Mr. Whitten’s voice came over the intercom. “Gretchen! Get in here—Now!”

         Grabbing a notebook and pen, Gretchen entered Mr. Whitten’s office, barely glancing at the talking businessman who sat across from the boss’s desk. She took a seat next to him, only to drop her pen right beside the man’s chair. How embarrassing! She whisked it off the floor, then caught her breath as she glanced up. It couldn’t be, but it was—that guy in the blue suit! Covertly, she gazed at his handsome profile and down to his left hand. A shiny gold band encircled his fourth finger.

         Her shoulders slumped. Myra was right again.

         Gretchen took notes of the meeting, becoming more amazed as she wrote in shorthand. Mr. Blue Suit was going to become a junior partner, taking over some of Mr. Whitten’s duties so her boss could eventually retire. That meant Gretchen would someday answer to this handsome man. She sighed with relief and frustration all at once. Why did he have to be married?

         It was after five o’clock when the meeting ended, and Mr. Whitten finally acknowledged her presence. “Oh! This is my secretary, Miss Gretchen Howe. Gretchen, this is Karl Parker.”

She smiled as she shook Karl’s hand and exchanged greetings. They exited to the outer office. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. “Have I met you before?”

         A warm flush crept up her neck as she nodded. “You bumped into me—literally—on the sidewalk.”

         “Oh, yeah.” He studied her. “Funny thing. You look like my wife, Tracey. In the face, that is. She’s gotten a little plump with having two kids.” He grinned. “We have a third on the way.”

         With a slight smile, Gretchen sat down at her computer. Chalk up another one for Myra!

         “Say…” His grin turned thoughtful. “I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Cody. He said if I ever find a girl who looks like Tracey, he would take her out on a date.” Karl laughed. “I know that’s crazy, but would you consider it?”
         Gretchen shrugged. She hated blind dates.

         “Tell you what—Tracey and I will make it a double date. Could my wife call you tomorrow at work about the details?”

         She smiled. “Sure.”

He turned the doorknob. “And by the way, if you’re wondering what Cody looks like…” Karl winked. “He’s my double. We’re identical twins.”  

It was a good thing Karl left, because Gretchen’s mouth dropped open in a most unbecoming way. Myra would never believe this! 

* * *

Come back tomorrow to learn about my book drawing! You might win!

Until then, God bless!

Short Story #1

Today I’m posting a short story I wrote, published in Woman’s World magazine in their October 5, 2009 issue. When the editor accepted the story, she said, “Thank you for sending us this amusing romance!” —and then she took out all the funny parts!

         Here is the original story I sent to the magazine.

HOT LUNCH

Jack Weaver opened the refrigerator in the fourth-floor break room. Way in the back, he found his brown bag lunch with Jackie written on it in pink gel ink.

         Jackie? Why did his sister write his childhood nickname on the bag? And in pink!

         Taking a seat at the table, he pulled out a sandwich, an apple, and a Snickers bar. Bob, the only person he knew in Claims, walked into the break room.

“Hey, Bob! Have a seat.” Jack crumpled the bag to hide the pink writing.

         “How was your first morning at the new job?” Bob took a large bite of Twinkie as he sat down. “Congrats on your promotion, by the way.” His words were muffled.

         “Thanks.” Jack slipped the candy into his shirt pocket for later. He had to hide it from Bob, who obviously ate his dessert first.

         Their table began to fill up. Bob introduced Jack to the other employees.

         “Good to meet you, Jack.” Teresa, a stout woman with glasses, sat across from him. “Are you related to Kim Boswell in Accounting? She mentioned she has a brother named Jack who works here.”

         “Yeah, she’s my sister.” He pointed to his crumpled brown bag. “Since we work in the same building, she always makes my lunch and sticks it in the refrigerator for me.”

         “How nice of her!” Teresa removed a Tupperware container from her bag.

         Jack shrugged. “She makes lunches for her kids every morning, so she says she might as well make one more.” He lowered his voice. “I think she feels sorry for this single guy who lives by himself.” Taking a bite of his sandwich, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He lifted a corner of the bread. Deli turkey with crisp lettuce and tomato met his eyes. Kim was using actual meat? Maybe she was celebrating his promotion.

         Twenty minutes later, after eating every delicious crumb, Jack threw the bag in the trash. As he was leaving the break room, a woman brushed past him. For a second, his eyes met her deep blue ones.

         Wow, she was hot!

“Hey, girl, we missed you at lunch.” Bob’s voice floated back from the break room.

Jack paused, hoping to hear her voice.

“I had to go down to the coffee shop on the first floor, and they were out of everything except cheese sandwiches. It was still frozen in the middle.” She paused. “I don’t know what happened to my lunch, but it wasn’t in the refrigerator.”

As Jack wound his way back to his cubicle, the woman’s pretty face lingered in his mind. 

         Later, he entered the copy room. Only one person stood at the copy machine—the pretty woman with the blue eyes. He introduced himself.

         She smiled. “My name is almost like yours. I’m Jaclyn Carpenter.”

         “Jaclyn. Great to meet you.”

         “My friends call me Jackie.” She gathered up her papers and breezed out the door.

         He stared after her. Jackie.

         A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach—right where Jackie’s lunch resided. Taking out his cell phone, he rang his sister’s number.

         “Kim, did you write Jackie on my lunch bag this morning?”

         “Why would I do that?” She sounded distracted, as usual.

         “Did you give me a turkey and tomato sandwich with lettuce?”

         She paused. “All we had was peanut butter and jelly.”

         “You didn’t happen to put my lunch in the second-floor refrigerator instead of the fourth, did you?”

         Kim gasped. “Oh no! I forgot about your promotion! I’m sorry, Jack.” After promising to get it right tomorrow, she hung up.

         Jack took the elevator down to the second floor. Sure enough, a lone brown bag sat on the refrigerator shelf with Jack printed on the side.

         In black ink.

         He took the bag upstairs and walked through the cubicles, searching for Jackie. He found her sitting at a desk, her head in her hands.

She looked up at him. “Oh—hi, Jack.”

         “Rough day?” Jack hoped he wasn’t the cause of her headache.

         She smiled, her pretty blue eyes gazing into his. “I’ve had better.”

He set the bag on her desk. “I have a confession to make. I ate your lunch.”

Her smile faded.

“It was an accident.” He explained how his sister had put his lunch in the wrong refrigerator. “But I saved your dessert from Bob.” He pulled the Snickers bar from his shirt pocket.

She laughed as she took it. “Thanks.”

“I’d like to make it up to you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Lunch out tomorrow? A hot lunch—not a frozen cheese sandwich.”

She sat back. “I’d love that.”

Smiling, he walked back to his cubicle. He would call Kim and tell her not to bother with his lunch tomorrow. He had a hot date.

* * *

If you have friends or family who enjoy reading contemporary Christian romance, please tell them about my blog.

Until tomorrow, God bless!

Taking a Breather

We’ll begin reading a new book next Monday, November 5^th, and I’ll tell you about that story on Friday. For this week, our plans include a recipe, two short stories to read, plus a drawing to win a free book! Be sure to come back each day!

If you’d like to re-read Romance by Design, or read the chapters you missed, this would be the week to do that. The easiest way to read the book is to scroll back to the beginning on September 3^rd (going through “older posts”). Or you could go into the Archives on the sidebar and click on each chapter (from bottom to top).

         Today I’m posting one of Ryan’s favorite recipes, a main dish chicken entrée. Try it!

Ryan’s Creamy Chicken Skillet

Ingredients:

1 Tbsp. canola oil

1 lb. boneless chicken breasts, cut into strips

3-4 cups cut-up vegetables

    (broccoli, carrots, red pepper, onion)

6-oz cream cheese, cubed

1 can chicken broth

1 tsp. basil (or more, to taste)

Heat oil in large skillet, add chicken. Cook and stir until lightly browned. Add chopped onion and red pepper. In the meantime, steam broccoli and carrots in a separate pot for about 15 minutes.

Combine the chicken and veggies in the skillet. Add the cream cheese, broth, and basil. Cook and stir until sauce begins to thicken and chicken is cooked through.

Serve over rice (cooked separately). Enjoy! 

God's Design

Epilogue

Goldie and Ryan were the first couple to be married in the newly constructed church, designed by the groom himself.

Goldie designed the wedding she always wanted, and she was marrying the man she had wanted to marry since—well, since she had met him eleven months ago in an accidental blind date.

Before she knew it, the ceremony was over, and she and Ryan were greeting people in the church fellowship hall at their reception. The room still smelled new, like paint and carpet. And the scent of sugar hung in the air from their five-tier wedding cake, which Frieda had made for them.

         “What a lovely wedding.” Mary Jane Collins, Goldie’s new mother-in-law, hugged her. “You’re a beautiful bride, Goldie.”

         “Thank you, Mrs. Collins.”

         “No, no. Don’t call me that.” Her brown eyes, so much like Ryan’s, gazed at her. “It’s Mom. I’ve been praying for my only son’s wife since he was born.”

         Spenser, Ryan’s dad, joined them. “The Lord gave our son a wonderful woman.” He clapped Ryan on the back. “Take care of this girl.”

         “I will, Dad.” Ryan winked at Goldie.

         Goldie gave a happy sigh, thankful Ryan’s parents had made the trip from Africa to attend their wedding. She loved her parents-in-law already.

         “Oh, Brunhilda!” Goldie’s mother swept toward them in a long shimmering gown. “Fantastic! Just a fantastic wedding!”

         “Thanks, Mom.” Goldie hugged her, wishing her mother hadn’t dyed her hair platinum blonde. And her makeup was heavy enough for a theatrical production. But Goldie had learned to accept her mother the way she was—blonde hair, heavy makeup, and her insistence on calling her daughter Brunhilda.

         Someone tapped Goldie on the shoulder. She turned to find Frieda behind her.

         “Time for yous to cut the cake.”

         Hand in hand, Goldie and Ryan walked to the cake table. Frieda had decorated the wedding cake with pink roses and green leaves—symbolic of the rose bushes in front of each of their houses. But now Goldie’s house was for sale, with an interested buyer. And someday, after Ryan designed and built their dream house, they would put his house on the market, too.

         “Okay, here’s the knife.” Frieda handed a fancy silver server to Goldie, telling Ryan to place his hand over hers.

         Together they sliced a piece and fed each other. Goldie was thankful Ryan wasn’t the type to smash the cake into his bride’s face.

         “Mmm…that’s good, Frieda.” Ryan wiped his mouth with a napkin.

         “Glad ya like it.” Frieda smiled. “I knew yous belonged together the first time ya ate at the Kaffee Klatch.”

         Goldie hugged her. “Thank you for everything, Frieda.”

         “Yeah.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for your advice.” He smiled at his bride. “I’m glad you told Goldie to stay after me.”

         Goldie gazed into his eyes. “Me, too.”

         Ryan pulled her into his arms, clearly intending to kiss her.

         Frieda cleared her throat. “You two love birds need to move. I have to cut cake pieces so all these people can eat. They only came for the cake, ya know.”

         Ryan laughed. “You’re the best, Frieda, but you can’t stop me from kissing my wife.” Which he did.

         After the kiss, Goldie leaned her head against Ryan’s shoulder. She couldn’t believe they were married!

Glancing around at the wedding guests, she spotted her dad talking to Mike and Anna. In just two months, Anna would give birth to their first child. Goldie hoped the Lord would give her and Ryan a child someday—or maybe three children, or five.

She didn’t know what the future held, but the Lord would lead them in His will. She was confident of that. The years ahead looked bright with this handsome man by her side.

The man God had designed just for her.  

 

THE END!

* * *

It’s always bittersweet to close the book on two people we’ve come to know, but I hope you’ve enjoyed the story of Goldie and Ryan. Romance by Design will stay on my blog, and you can read it again.

Next week I’ll tell you about the book we’re going to read as our second story.

Until Monday, may the Lord give you a wonderful weekend!
 

Future Plans

Chapter Thirty-five

Pastor Thomas glanced around the large table at the eight-member building committee before his eyes stopped at Ryan. “The Lord has provided an architect right from our own congregation, and we’re grateful.”

         Ryan nodded at him. Now that he had committed to design the church, he was excited about the project. And the church was going to pay him 8%! Combined with his job at the Blue Haven, he’d be making decent money.

         But now he knew—money wasn’t everything. Taking the job in Connecticut would have given him twice as much in dollars, but half as much in peace. Being in God’s will was so much better.

         Sitting next to Ryan, Goldie typed notes on her laptop. Ryan was glad he could look at them later, since he wasn’t taking notes himself.

“So…” The pastor cleared his throat. “What type of church building should Ryan design for us?”

         Across the table, Frieda smiled. “A churchy building with a tall white spire.”

         Everyone laughed. 

         “Perhaps Frieda is referring to colonial-type architecture.” John Zeller glanced at the others. “A brick façade with white columns in the front, topped by a tall steeple.”

         A picture of the building formed in Ryan’s mind.

         “We’ll definitely need a wing off the sanctuary.” Joe Cranston looked at Ryan. “For Sunday school classrooms.”

         Ryan nodded.

         The conversation picked up. Ministry needs were spelled out, and the building started to expand.

         This would be no little country church.

         Almost an hour later, the pastor closed the meeting in prayer. Ryan had agreed to bring some sketches to the next meeting. He hoped the committee liked them.

         One by one the members got up and left the room.

         Ryan turned to Goldie. “Did you get all that?”

         “I hope so.” With a smile, she closed her laptop and turned to him. “I’m so glad you’re designing our building, Ryan.”

         “So am I.” Joe Cranston stepped beside Ryan’s chair and stuck out his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

         He stood and shook Joe’s hand. “Thanks.”

         “Here’s something to keep in mind, Ryan.” Joe’s dark eyes stared into his.

         Uh-oh. It looked like some well-meaning but unwanted advice was forthcoming. Always one of those types in every church.

         “I’m part of the board for the Science Museum in Allentown. They’d like to build a new building next year.” Joe paused. “Would you consider designing it?”

         Ryan’s jaw dropped.

         “It will be a big project.” Joe spread out his hands. “The building will cover three acres, and the museum is willing to give you 10% of the total cost.”

         Ryan’s head spun. “I’d love to do that.”

         “Good.” Joe slapped him on the back as he turned to leave. “Like I said, something to keep in mind.”

He exited out the door, leaving Ryan and Goldie alone in the room.

         “Wow.” Ryan turned to Goldie who stood beside him. “Did you hear that?”

         “God is good.” Goldie’s pretty blue eyes held his. “You gave up the job you really wanted, and the Lord is rewarding you with something far better in the future.”

         “No kidding!” Ryan pulled Goldie into his arms. “And speaking of the future, I want to go forward into it with you by my side.” He hesitated, but only for a second. “Goldie, will you marry me?”

         Her eyes widened. “Yes!”

         That was all she could say before Ryan kissed her.

         Peace seemed to surround them like a cloud. They would get married, live in Knotty Pine, Pennsylvania for the rest of their lives, attend their newly constructed church, have children in their house…

         Ryan lifted his head. “Wait a minute. We both own a house. Which one are we going to live in?”

         Goldie frowned. “You stopped kissing me to ask that?” Grabbing his neck, she pulled his lips back to hers.

         Ryan didn’t mind at all.

* * *

         Ah, young love. But that’s not quite the end, dear reader. Come back tomorrow for the Epilogue.

         Until then, God bless!

All's Well that End's Well

Chapter Thirty-four

On Friday evening, Goldie stood outside her house with the garden hose and watered her rose bush. She only had one bush, but the pink flowers were so pretty. If only they bloomed like this all summer.

         She turned off the water and put the hose away. When she turned around, Ryan stood in her driveway.

         “Ryan! Hi.” Her mind flew to the photo she found at the Gallery, the one of the two of them, and his words on the back: “You’re the only one for me. Can we start over?”

         Without speaking, he reached out and plucked a rose off the bush. No stem, just the rose. With a smile, he handed it to her. “For you.”

         “Thanks, Ryan.” Goldie breathed in the sweet scent, looking at him over the flower.

         “I should have bought you a dozen long-stemmed red roses for winning the pottery commission on Wednesday.” He shrugged. “Anyway, congratulations. I’m glad Ms. Wakefield liked the Presidential line.”

         “Yes.” Goldie smiled. “Thanks for bringing that in. Sometimes I can’t believe my pottery is going to be sold in New York.” Her smile faded. “And thank you for putting that camera in my booth.” She sighed. “I still can’t believe Carl damaged my pottery.”

         “Yep, that was a big surprise.”

         Goldie stood there a moment, feeling awkward. “Um, won’t you come in?” She motioned toward the house.

         “Sure.” He followed her inside. “Just so you know—I got a job offer from an architectural firm.”

         Catching her breath, she turned to him. “Ryan, that’s wonderful! Now both our dreams will come true!”

         “Well, if I take the job, I’ll have to move to Connecticut.”

“What?” Goldie pressed her fingers against her mouth. “I mean…Connecticut? Really?” She swallowed. How terrible! “When are you moving?”

“I’m not.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not taking the job?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I’d have to sell my house, leave my friends, find another church.” He gazed at her. “I’d have to leave you, Goldie.”

Her heartbeat took off. Ryan was staying here for her? “But Ryan, it’s your dream job. You went to college for this. You earned a Master’s degree. Don’t throw away your education!”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. God will provide another job for me someday, but this job is not His will. The Lord wants me to stay in Knotty Pine, work at the Blue Haven, and…design the new church building.”

“The church! Oh, Ryan!” It took all her willpower not to throw her arms around him. “Pastor Thomas will be so happy.”

“I already talked to him. I’m attending the building committee meeting next Tuesday night.”

“That’s great!” Goldie hugged herself. It wasn’t as good as hugging Ryan, but she had to hug someone.

“I wanted to let you know, before you heard it from someone else on the committee. And another thing—there’s nothing between Elisa and I. We were engaged at one time, but our relationship is over.”

“Elisa told me.” Goldie walked into the kitchen and looked for a bowl to put her flower in.

Ryan folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen doorjamb. “When you saw us the other day, uh, you know—when Elisa had her arms around my neck?”

Goldie pulled a bowl from the cupboard. She didn’t want to talk about Elisa. She didn’t even want to think about her.

“Well, uh…” Ryan huffed out a breath. “Elisa’s kind of possessive, and what happened on Wednesday was none of my doing.”

The phone picture lay on the counter. Goldie snatched it up and thrust it at him. “I found this in my booth.”

He glanced at the photo, then looked at his writing on the back. “What did you think about it?”

         Goldie raised her eyebrows. “What did you mean by it?”

         “Exactly what I wrote, Goldie.” Stepping close to her, he took her hands in his. “You’re the only one for me. And from now on, I’m going to be an open book to you. Completely honest. No more secrets.” He gazed into her eyes. “Will you be honest with me?”

         “Yes.” She whispered the word. Her heart was beating so hard at his nearness, she could hardly think. “But I do have a secret I need to tell you, Ryan.”

He didn’t say anything. Just cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Goldie had never told anyone this, but she wanted Ryan to know. She took a deep breath. “My real name is Brunhilda Gertrude Silversmith.”

His eyes widened. “Brunhilda?”

She nodded. “My mother’s idea, from an opera.”

“And Gertrude?”

“I was born on my great aunt Gertrude’s birthday. She turned seventy-three the day I was born, and she reminded me I was her namesake until the day she died.” She rolled her eyes. “Please promise you’ll always call me Goldie!”

Ryan laughed. “I promise.”

“And I promise to be totally honest with you, and not keep any secrets.”

He raised his eyebrows. “In light of being totally honest…” He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Goldie Silversmith.”

“Oh, Ryan.” She tightened her arms around him. “I love you, too.”

Pulling her closer, he kissed her.

Goldie kissed him back. This was exactly where she belonged—in Ryan’s arms.

* * *

Until tomorrow… (last chapter!)

Ryan's Dilemma

Chapter Thirty-three

On Thursday afternoon Ryan drove home after working the breakfast and lunch shift at the Blue Haven of the Poconos. 

         Passing Goldie’s house, he sighed. He hadn’t seen Goldie since yesterday at the Gallery Connection when Carl Trennen got busted. She must have found the phone picture he left under one of the plates, as well as his message. Knowing Goldie, Ryan figured she’d call him as soon as she saw it, or maybe stop by his house.

         But… nothing. Not a word. Now he didn’t know what to think. Did Goldie still want to date him?

         Or maybe she never found the phone picture. Maybe some clerk at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York City would find it under that same plate, and either throw it away or show it to everyone else in the store.

         How embarrassing!

         He pulled the Sunfire into his driveway and parked. Leaning his head against the headrest, he prayed.

         “What should I do, Lord? Should I call her? Go over to her house this evening?”

         Yesterday at the Gallery, Ryan had kept an eye on Trennen and barely looked at Goldie. Then he left—when he should have stayed and congratulated her on her commission. But he wanted her to find the phone picture by herself. He wanted to surprise her. But what if she didn’t see it? What if it got shipped to New York?

         He moaned.

         His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Taking it out, he glanced at the number but didn’t recognize it.

         “Ryan Collins.”
         “Hello! This is Dean McCracken from Boyer, McCracken, and Straus. You interviewed with our branch firm last week in Stroudsburg.”

         Ryan sat up. “Yes, sir.”

         “I’m calling to congratulate you, Ryan. We’d like to hire you as an architect in our company.”

         Praise God! “That’s wonderful, sir!”

         Mr. McCracken talked for several minutes about the job, and what the firm expected from him.

         Was this really happening?

         “So when can you start?” Mr. McCracken paused. “I suppose you’ll need to give your present job a two-week notice.”

         “Um, yes.” He’d hate to stop working at the Blue Haven, but wasn’t this what he dreamed of?

         “That’s fine, Ryan. It’ll give us time on our end. We need to scout out an apartment for you in Hartford. Later, if you want to find your own place—”

         “Wait a minute.” Hartford? “Won’t I be working at the branch in Stroudsburg?”

         “Not at first. All new employees start at our home office here in Connecticut.”

         “Connecticut?” Ryan slumped down in the seat.

         “If you want to move back to Stroudsburg in a few years, we could transfer you.”

         A few years? “Uh, could you give me some time to consider this job offer?”

         “Oh sure! Let’s see…” Some papers rattled on the other end. “I’ll give you a call on Monday morning. Would that be enough time?”

         “That would be great. Thanks.”

Ryan concluded the call and turned off his cell phone. He finally got an architectural job with a good firm, and it was in another state!

         He rubbed a hand down his face. If he took this job, he’d have to sell his house—which he just bought—and move away from Knotty Pine. Away from Goldie. Away from the church where he was making friends—good Christian friends.

         If he moved to Connecticut, he’d have his dream job but he’d have to start over. Again. New church, new friends, and a lonely life with no Goldie.

         Ryan sighed. A scrap of Scripture pierced his mind. “Neither know we what to do, but our eyes are upon Thee.”

         He remembered the story—King Jehoshaphat in Second Chronicles chapter 20. The king was faced with an invading army coming against his paltry army, and he had no idea what to do. But he turned to God, Who fought for him.

         “Lord, I don’t know what to do either, but my eyes are on You. Please help me make the right decision.”

         Design the church.

         Ryan raised his eyebrows. That thought came out of nowhere, but was that his answer? Should he turn down the job with Boyer, McCracken, and Straus? Should he stay in his house, keep working at the Blue Haven? Design the building for the church?

         To be honest, he liked those thoughts better than the thought of uprooting his life and moving to Connecticut.

         He spread out his hands. “I surrender, Lord. If You want me to stay here and design the church, please let me know. I want to follow Your will for my life.”

         Ryan spent a few minutes in prayer until peace filled his heart.

         He would wait for Mr. McCracken’s phone call on Monday, but he already knew what his answer would be.

         Ryan got out of the car and stretched. He breathed in the warm summer air. It was good to be alive. It was even better to be in God’s will.

         He gazed up at the blue sky. “One more thing, Lord.” He took a deep breath. “About Goldie… Could we get married someday?”

* * *

Until tomorrow, may the Lord bless.