Hope Springs (30 page)

As the song neared the end, she took her phone from her purse. Todd had texted first thing this morning that he was praying for her, as had her mom, Janelle, and others. But now it was Twitter lighting up her screen, tweet after tweet that had posted during her message. She scanned a few.

Listening to @BeccaDillon at @WorthandPurpose. Funny, transparent, poignant.

In tears @WorthandPurpose. @BeccaDillon's story is my own. So thankful for a perfect Christ.

“We don't have to hide the shame. God's glory is revealed within it.” ~@ BeccaDillon

Becca got tears in her own eyes now. God had truly answered prayer. There were women who'd been touched by the message. She was overwhelmed.

Security came to escort them out. As she walked past the women in the floor seats, many extended their hand to hers. She would meet and greet people on the main concourse level of the arena in a few minutes prior to heading back to the hotel. But first she stopped in the catering area to get her coat and tote bag.

Two members of the Worth & Purpose executive team walked in after her. Becca smiled, thinking they were about to encourage her about her message.

“Becca, we need to talk with you a moment.” It was Catherine, the one who'd gotten the vision to start the organization.

“Sure,” Becca said.

Catherine led the three of them to a table across the room away from staff who'd gathered there.

Catherine sighed. “This isn't easy for us, and we certainly wanted to wait until after you'd given your message . . .”

Becca had a funny sensation in the pit of her stomach.

“. . . but we also didn't think it prudent to wait much longer after that.” Catherine sighed again. “Becca, you won't be continuing with Worth & Purpose.”

“You mean next year?”

“I mean this year,” Catherine said. “Wendy Burns was unexpectedly cleared by her doctor to return. Looks like prayers were answered, and she and the baby are doing fine.”

Becca stared at them. “Okay.”

“We're very sorry. You did a great job. We were so proud of you. But we did include that contingency in your contract just in case.”

Becca didn't know what else to say.

“I know you're scheduled to do a meet and greet right now. Understandably, we don't expect you to do that. You can feel free to head back to the hotel.”

“I'd, um . . . I'd like to still do that . . . if that's okay.”

“Absolutely.”

The women looked at one another, clearly not relishing this task. They all stood.

“We really did love having you, Becca.”

She gave a faint smile, the only kind she could, and followed a staff member to the upper level. A line of women was waiting for her. She greeted the first, who began to share a similar story of a teenage pregnancy and the accompanying shame, and the next, who had a different story of shame. On down the line the women bared their hearts. Becca listened. And was thankful for the outlet to cry.

She wished she could stop crying. But back in her hotel room there seemed no end to things that would trigger the tears. She was sure it was self-torture, but she'd check Twitter now and then for tweets from the Worth & Purpose team. They'd gone to dinner, yet no one had asked her to join them like last time. But didn't they know she'd be seeing this? Didn't they care? Did they
have
to post about the grand time they were having with one another? Would it have killed them to make the kind gesture of inviting her? They probably didn't think about it. Just that fast she was nobody again—which made her cry all the more.

Then there were the continuing tweets from women who'd attended the conference, saying she was a great addition to the team. She wanted to scream,
I'm not on the team anymore!

She heard an e-mail notification and looked up from her slumped position at the desk. Someone had written on her fan page wall how much they enjoyed her message. She clicked to her Facebook window, went to her fan page—now with 317 fans—scrolled down, and clicked
Delete page
.

Are you sure you want to delete this page?
it asked.

She leaned forward and not only clicked the answer but yelled it. “YES!”

She slumped back in the chair. She'd have to tell her agent what happened. The book contract would be gone. She'd only gotten it because of this platform, and now it was gone. She was sure the publisher would breathe a sigh of relief that nothing had yet been signed.

Every “blessing” she'd received had been stripped. The tears started again.
This wasn't a blessing, Lord. You let me taste what it could be like, then You yanked it away
. She looked down at the clothes she'd borrowed from Janelle, and suddenly couldn't strip them off fast enough. She got up, took off the jacket, tank, and denim pants, and put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. She walked into the bathroom and washed off all the stage makeup. Then she went and found the Worth & Purpose program in her tote—the one she'd tucked away as a keepsake—and slung it into the trash.

Her phone notified her she had a text. She walked to the desk where she'd left it and looked. It was from Janelle:
I just know you knocked it out of the park. Can't wait to hear!

Becca didn't know what to text back. She didn't know what she'd say when she got home tomorrow. She didn't know what she'd do from here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sunday, January 31

S
tephanie was glad she could visit New Jerusalem once more on her last Sunday in Hope Springs. She'd worked at the diner on Thursday and told Lila she was willing to work Sunday, but another server had been hired in the interim.

Stephanie loved Living Word, her home church in St. Louis. Dr. Lyles, the pastor she'd grown up with, was a gifted preacher whose Bible studies were used around the world. She was blessed to sit under excellent teaching week after week. But here in this little country church it was clear—Pastor Travis was gifted as well.

She leaned over to Janelle. “Is he always on fire like this?”

Her cousin nodded. “Every time I've heard him. When he starts teaching, he's in another zone.”

Kory sat on the other side of Janelle, with Daniel beside him. Tiffany and Dee were beside Stephanie.

“Without Christ, you couldn't string a coherent thought together,” Travis was saying. “You couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time. Matter of fact, without Him, you would start to tilt as you walk”—people chuckled as he demonstrated—“because the earth would move off its axis and throw everybody and everything into chaos. Why? Because ‘in Him all things hold together.' ”

Travis walked down from the pulpit area and looked among them. “You can try to live without Him if you want to—and believe me, I tried. I found out how empty that path was and how messed up my life had become. And in all my trying, I hurt people.” He paused with a sigh. “And when you hurt people because
you
tried to live without Christ, it's the worst feeling in the world. And you can't always go back and fix it.”

Stephanie and Janelle looked at one another.

Travis concluded his sermon a few minutes later, and as the worship team began playing softly, Stephanie leaned over to Janelle again. “Between Travis and Todd, Hope Springs has got a pair of gifted preachers.”

“You just never know who God will raise up.”

They watched as people came forward for prayer and were directed to the side for further counseling. In a few minutes Travis said the benediction.

Stephanie high-fived Tiffany and Dee. “You girls did really well. I didn't hear as much giggling as I expected.” She was well aware it helped that they had candy to suck on.

Kory drove them all back to the house, and Stephanie checked the cars out front.

“Looks like Todd's back from church but Becca's not here yet,” she said. “I can't wait to hear how it went.”

“She didn't answer my text,” Janelle said, “but I know she was busy. I checked her blog this morning, thinking she'd post after the conference like she did last week, but nothing new was up there.”

When they stepped inside, Stephanie stopped to inhale. “Mmmmm.”

“Tell me about it,” Kory said.

They entered the kitchen where Aunt Gladys was holding court by herself, working pots and pans, checking the oven.

“Aunt Gladys, you didn't have to do all this. You've got it smelling like Thanksgiving in here.”

“I can't have my niece leaving without a special meal. That's not how I roll.”

Stephanie laughed, hugging her. “Thank you.”

Kory got some chips and dip and planted himself at the table with the Sunday paper.

“How's Grandma Geri doing?” Janelle asked.

“Stayed in bed mostly,” Aunt Gladys said. “No coughing episodes or anything. I've been checking on her.”

“Still withdrawn?” Janelle asked.

Aunt Gladys spooned out a bit of collards to taste. “Hard to tell if it's the illness or the secret being out or both. But she's not herself.”

News had traveled fast on the Sanders family grapevine. By the time Stephanie and Janelle returned from the Bible study, Aunt Gladys had called all of her siblings, save Aunt Gwynn, and told them what happened. Stephanie's dad then called to get her perspective, and Janelle's mom called her. And Stephanie was sure they'd talked to Grandma Geri and probably Todd too.

Calls had also gone out to Aunt Gwynn from all her siblings, but no one had spoken with her personally. With all the voice mails, she knew the secret was out and likely didn't want to talk.

The side door opened and Claire dashed past the kitchen, then dashed back, poking her head in. “Have you seen Tiffany and Dee?” she asked.

“Good afternoon, Claire.” Janelle was smiling.

“Good afternoon, Miss Janelle.”

“I think Tiffany and Dee are out back. And, Claire?”

“Yes?”

“Let us know when your mom gets back.”

Claire shrugged. “She's already here.”

Stephanie looked out the window. “She sure did ease in without us seeing.” She glanced at Janelle. “Should we give her some time?”

“Much as I've been praying? I'm going to get the report.”

The two of them got their jackets and walked over, entering the screen door. “Hello?”

“We're in the kitchen,” Todd said.

But when they got in the kitchen, only Todd and Ethan were there. Ethan was eating a sandwich.

“We're looking for Becca,” Janelle said. “Excited to hear how things went.”

Todd cast a glance in the direction of the staircase and sighed. “She's up in our room, but she's not doing well. They let her go right after her message.”

“What do you mean, ‘let her go'?” Stephanie asked.

“They brought her on board to replace a speaker who was having complications with her pregnancy. But the doctor cleared her to return. Becca had to step aside.”

“Oh no,” Janelle said. “I mean, it's great for that speaker and her baby, but Becca was really looking forward to spending the season with them.”

“And beyond,” Todd said. “She was praying to continue with them next year. She had her sights set on an upward trajectory for her ministry, and now she sees it as plummeting.”

“But she shouldn't see it that way at all,” Janelle said.

“I've been telling her that,” Todd said. “When she told me last night what happened, first thing I said was, ‘God still used you in a big way on that platform, and now He's got another plan. He wasn't surprised by this.' ”

“She wasn't hearing it?” Stephanie asked.

Todd shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Can we go up and talk to her?” Janelle said.

“Please do.”

Stephanie and Janelle ascended the steps slowly. What could they say in the face of such disappointment? The door was open and Becca was stretched across the bed.

Janelle rapped lightly on the door. “Becca?”

She rolled to her side. “Come on in.”

They pulled off their jackets, laid them on a chair, and sat beside her on the bed.

“Todd told us what happened,” Stephanie said. “I think it stinks that they couldn't give you a good twenty-four hours to enjoy your moment. I mean, who does that?”

“Well.” Becca stared downward. “Finding out today, tomorrow, or in two weeks would've been worse. I'm glad they told me when they did.”

“How did the actual message go, Bec?” Janelle asked.

“Great, I think. I got good feedback from the other speakers and from people in the audience. I think a lot of women connected with the message. I was on a high until I got the news.”

“Which gives it a double stink,” Stephanie said. “Just my opinion.”