Myra Johnson - Their Christmas Prayer

“Let’s think on these and meet again in a few days,” she suggested. “I’ll do more research, too.”

Shaun fingered his empty coffee mug, his brows converging to form a pensive crease down the middle of his forehead. “You know, there’s one thing we haven’t done yet, and I’m embarrassed for not suggesting it.”

Brooke looked up from tucking her tablet into her tote. “Oh? What have I missed?”

“We haven’t prayed about what we’re doing.”

Now Brooke was embarrassed, and more than a little ashamed of how her mother’s lengthy illness and death had slowly eroded her prayer life. “You’re right. I can get so focused on the details that I forget to bring God in.”

“But I’ve got no excuse.” Shaun’s mouth twisted in a pained smile, and he lowered his voice. “I’m a pastor, remember?”

The resignation in his blue-gray stare shifted something in Brooke’s heart. Diana was right—there was much more to Shaun O’Grady than met the eye. “Would you like to say a prayer now?”

Shaun bowed his head, and Brooke did the same. “Lord, we’re two newcomers to this town and church, but for whatever reason, we’ve been called upon to serve. Guide us and help us to do our best for You and for those who will be blessed by our efforts. In Your Son’s name, amen.”

“Thank you,” Brooke said, a catch in her voice. “Remind me to have you pray at each of our meetings.”

“We could take turns, you know.”

“Uh, no, that’s okay. You’re the pro in the prayer department.” With a quick breath, she stood and slid the strap of her tote to her shoulder.

Walking out together, they agreed to meet again on Saturday, and Brooke hurried across the square to the chamber office. There, at least, she could pretend for a while that she had everything under control.

The next few days had Shaun overanalyzing everything about Wednesday’s meeting with Brooke—including his openness to pray. Proved he and God were still on speaking terms, anyway, even if he was still light-years away from discerning the Lord’s plan for his life.

Walking one of Kent’s horses out to pasture on Saturday morning, he gave the gentle sorrel mare a scratch under the chin. Posey snorted her appreciation, her warm breath forming clouds in the chilly air. “You’ve got it good here, girl,” Shaun said as he unbuckled her halter. “Maybe if I spent my days munching grass and rolling in the dust, life wouldn’t seem so complicated.”

“Talking to horses is good therapy.”

Shaun turned to find Kent grinning at him across the fence rail. “One thing’s for sure—they don’t give me grief like my future brother-in-law.”

Kent released the gate latch and waited for Shaun to amble out. “Thought you were meeting with Brooke again today.”

“We’re having an early lunch at the supermarket deli.” He looped the halter and lead rope over the rail. “Which means I need to finish my chores pretty quick and clean up.”

“Work any harder around here and I won’t know what to do after you move on.”

Laughing, Shaun started back to the barn. “Maybe hire someone you’ll actually pay?”

“Room and board’s not enough for you?” Kent gave him a playful slug in the arm. “If you’re holding out for cable TV and maid service, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

They traded a few more friendly gibes before Kent saddled Jasmine and rode out to check on his cattle, and Shaun got busy mucking stalls.

He’d enjoyed getting to know Kent over the past few weeks. Watching him with Erin evoked not only joy at seeing his sister so happy after her failed first marriage but a twinge of envy as well. Serving on the mission field, Shaun had encountered more than a few single women his age who shared both his faith and his passion for those in need. He’d even had a couple of relationships he thought might actually go somewhere.

But something always held him back. In one case, it was because he’d felt the call to transfer elsewhere, but she hadn’t sensed the same leading. His second time around, they ultimately agreed their personality differences would only lead to problems down the road. But a huge factor for Shaun was the fear of divided loyalties. Could he sustain a healthy marriage while also devoting himself to mission service? And what of children? Starting a family involved a whole different set of decisions.

Now here he was, ankle-deep in soiled shavings and doing nothing remotely close to the plans and goals he’d set for himself as a seminary student. Was that the root of his current dissatisfaction—that he’d rushed ahead with his own agenda instead of listening more closely for God’s direction?

He couldn’t deny he’d experienced a sense of peace and relief when he’d first returned to the States and Greg had suggested he spend some time in Juniper Bluff. So maybe his stay here—yes, even the Christmas outreach project—was part of God’s will.

As for meeting Brooke Willoughby? Guess he’d have to wait and see.

Two hours later, he climbed into the battered green hatchback he’d held onto since college, mainly so he’d have something to drive during his stateside visits. Arriving at the deli, he claimed a table to wait for Brooke. When she sauntered in, curls loose about her shoulders and wearing a tunic-length striped sweater over black leggings, he allowed himself an appreciative grin. Working on this project with someone as sharp and as pretty as Brooke Willoughby definitely earned a mark in the plus column.

Pulling out the chair across from him, she nodded as he stood to welcome her. “I like a guy who’s prompt.”

“Don’t get used to it. A fresh deli sandwich just sounded a lot more appealing than another PB and J with Kent.”

Brooke laughed as she set her tote next to her chair. “Can’t blame you. Shall we talk first or get some lunch?”

“Breakfast was a long time ago. I vote for lunch,” Shaun said over his rumbling stomach. “Tell me what you’d like and I’ll place our order.”

He returned shortly with two sandwiches, potato chips and iced teas. “The one with the straw is your sweet tea,” he said. “Everything else is the same.”

Unwrapping her sandwich, Brooke cast him a smile. “You got the ham and Swiss on rye, too?”

“My favorite. And sour-cream-and-onion chips—missed those like crazy overseas.” Shaun ripped open the bag.

“Not a fan of sweet tea, though?”

He grimaced. “Makes my mouth pucker.”

Remembering his commitment to start these meetings with prayer, he offered thanks for the meal and asked the Lord to bless their discussion. Considering how long it had taken them to narrow down their top-three list the other morning, agreeing on a single best plan of action would require God’s help in abundance.

They settled into comfortable silence while they ate. The way Brooke held her sandwich just so, keeping the bottom half in the wrapper so the juices didn’t drip, then dabbing the corners of her lips after every bite, Shaun couldn’t picture her ever being comfortable in a Third World country. And since it looked more and more like his sabbatical would be over by the end of the year, whatever other common likes or dislikes they might discover were moot.

Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, Brooke wadded up the wrapper. “Guess we should get started.”

After another swig of tea, Shaun reached beneath his chair for the steno pad he’d been using to collect his thoughts.

He watched with amusement while Brooke cleared a space on the small table for her tablet computer with attached keyboard. She laid her cell phone beside it. After several keystrokes and a few scowls and hmm s while she appeared to search for her notes, she looked up with a satisfied smile. “Okay, all set.”