~David~
He’d been halfway through his sermon when he’d seen her.
Cammie Evans, sitting several rows back, watching him with rapt attention, tears streaming down her face.
He was more than comfortable preaching to a crowd of students, but when the audience extended beyond that, he often found himself nervous.
And she was Cammie Evans, after all.
Camille. Camille Evans.
He could picture her listening to his own father, back in high school, her attention just as focused but minus the tears, of course. He’d crowd himself into the pew with Hope and Charity, never because he wanted to sit with them especially but because Cammie was there, too. He’d listen to his father, of course, but he’d watch Cammie as well. She always listened, always took notes, and always nodded affirmation.
But tonight as he saw her, there were just tears.
It had very nearly thrown off the whole rhythm he’d been keeping.
Paul Connor, a commanding presence in the pulpit.
David Connor, making people weep with his incompetence.
But that hadn’t been it, he assured himself as he walked to the restaurant there in the hotel with her. She’d said it was that she “got it,” just like he did, he reminded himself as they were directed to a table, and he pulled her chair out for her. She knew what he was talking about because she was living it as well on the other side of the world, he affirmed, as they ordered their food and began eating, as she told him similar stories about Tokyo.
He was about to ask her about her long-term plans in Asia, when a student walked right up to their table there and said hello to Camille.
David could see that he’d come from a table full of other young men, all of them grinning over, watching their friend as he stared at Camille and smiled.
He was an older high school student, probably done with his last year and looking towards college. And looking at Camille with clear interest in his eyes, of course, even as she turned to him and smiled politely.
“Miss Evans,” he said. “I was in your first session this afternoon... it is Miss Evans, isn’t it?”
David frowned at this. Sure, he’d said nearly the same thing earlier, but this guy? Was a kid. (Though had he been David’s own age, it still would have been annoying.)
“It is,” Camille said kindly. “Did you enjoy the session?”
“It was great,” the kid kept on, never even glancing at David. “I really liked what you said about semester missions opportunities.” He paused. “In Japan. Where you serve. I’d really like to join you in your work there.”
Good grief. David glanced over at Camille, wondering if she could see through this blatant flirtation.
She could if the patient, carefully unaffected expression on her face was any indication.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. “Of course, to do the semester program, you’ll need to have at least eighteen hours of college credit already earned.” Another pause. “Are you in college yet?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I start next fall. I just turned eighteen.” Another pointed look at Camille.
David could read a whole lot into that pointed look.
But Camille went on without acknowledging it, reaching down to grab her purse. “I’ve got a card for you, then,” she said. “With a number for more information once you get those eighteen hours completed. Or if you have questions before then.”
She was giving this kid her phone number? David was ready to open his mouth and protest this when she handed the now grinning kid the card.
“That’s the number of one of my colleagues here stateside,” she said. “His name is Chad. He’ll be thrilled to hear that you’re interested in the program, and he’ll be happy to talk you through the process.”
The young man regarded the card with a look of dejection. “Oh,” he said. “Well, that’s... great. Thanks, Miss Evans.”
And with that, he turned and left.
David watched the young man walk away with a strange desire to hurl a spoon his direction, aimed right at the back of his head. Looking at Cammie like that, trying to put the moves on her when he was just a kid...
“Look at you, Camille,” he said instead, keeping his spoon on the table and his tone light. “Inspiring a whole new generation of young men towards the mission field.”
She raised an eyebrow at this and suppressed a smile. “Just trying to do my part,” she said. “But that guy? Won’t end up overseas. They never do.”
David frowned at this. “What do you mean?”
“A kid like that,” she said. “Look at him.”
David did, even as the kid sat back down and his buddies laughed at him. He looked annoying. Irritating. Butt ugly, too.
“Yeah?”
“Good looking young man,” she said. “Well spoken. Clearly thinks well of himself and has confidence. Likely the darling of his home church, right? If he expresses any legitimate calling to ministry beyond just wanting to get a good look at my cleavage –”
And at this mention, David had to force himself to not glance that way, consciously warning himself to keep his eyes on the prize, so to speak.
“–well,” Cammie continued on, with thankfully no clue what he was thinking, “there are so many other options for him, none of which require moving to the other side of the world where the pay is horrible, the work is hard, and the benefits are non-existent.”
“You make the mission field sound like an awful place,” David said.
“Not an awful place,” she said. “No matter where I’ve been, it’s been wonderful. But it’s been hard. Not that ministry in the States isn’t equally hard in its own ways, I’m sure, but there’s something different about being overseas, isn’t there?”
David nodded at this, knowing the truth of it.
“But I’ve been called to it,” she said, “so it’s been infinitely better than I could ever have imagined.”
David smiled, ready to tell her it was the same for him.
“But you,” she cut him off. “You can’t tell me you haven’t gotten offers for a lot of other opportunities here in the States that were very attractive.”
He had. Just the day before, actually. Student ministry, New Life-Dallas. He wouldn’t tell her this, of course, but it was there in his mind as the glaring example of what she was saying.
“And if you wanted to, David,” she said, looking up at him, “you could do something different, surely. Could get the keys to the kingdom, likely, given who you are.”
She had no idea. His dad and those deacons had practically had the spare keys to the kingdom already copied and in his pocket before he could finish his steak.
“But I’m called overseas as well,” he said, affirming this again for himself and to others, just like he’d spent the whole weekend doing. “Just like you.”
She nodded. “But you have options,” she said. “Much more than women in your position do. And you can see why the mission field is full of women, not men.”
“Not where I’m at,” he said. “I’m only the lonely out there.”
She smiled. “Yeah, that was mentioned. Impressive. Blazing a trail all on your own. Being the big man and all.”
“Not so much,” he said, thinking of how often he’d found himself on his knees praying that God would do the work He’d called David to do on His behalf. Because that’s what it was. Being called to witness a task that only God Himself could do, sometimes by David’s very human efforts, much to his shock and all to His glory.
David tried to put this in words for her. “Just figuring it out as I go. Getting out of the way so that the real Big Man can do the job.”
She watched him with something that looked like... admiration.
Glory. Admiration. From Camille Evans. In his mind, he could see his twelve year old self jumping up and down, cheering. Hey, even his twenty-five year old self was wanting to jump on the table and celebrate as well.
“Well said,” Camille noted softly
. “Wonderful things happening. All the time.”
“Very nearly.”
“Even still, though... it gets lonely probably. By your own admission as only the lonely and all, like you said.”
And it did get lonely. There were the students. There was Piet. There was Kait. He was luckier than most, having so many people there surrounding him and being a part of the same work.
But it was still lonely.
“You get lonely out in Japan?,” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” she sighed. “Not sure how you can be in a crowd of people all the time and still feel alone. But you can.”
He knew this better than she could guess, probably.
“It costs something,” she murmured. She looked up at him. “Makes it more of an offering, a sacrifice, going out and doing what we do when it costs something, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“But your work,” she said, smiling. “You do it all on your own?”
“I have friends who help out,” he said. “But as far as the board goes, it’s just me. Well, for another couple of weeks, at least. We’re getting a new guy on the field.”
At this, her face brightened. “Are you? That’s great news.”
And it was, of course. As they talked about all that he hoped to do with more help on the field, about people they both knew from home, about the past, and about the future, David found himself wishing that he had more time here in the US to spend with her.
What for, though? She had a life in Japan, and he had a life in Namibia.
Even as they took the elevator back upstairs and walked to their rooms, he thought about how far apart the two destinations actually were.
“Well,” he said, when they got to their doors, “it was great seeing you again, Camille.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other a few more times this week,” she said, smiling.
Oh, he wished they would.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” he said, deflated at the thought.
And was it his imagination, or did the mention of him being gone make her look a little disappointed as well?
“Really?” she asked. “You’re not staying for the rest of the conference?”
“No,” he said. “Gotta get back to work. Taking the first flight out tomorrow. 5am.”
“That’s early,” she said, looking at her watch. “And I’ve kept you out way too late with all my talking.”
He’d loved every minute, every word.
“It was great,” he said. “No other way I’d have rather spent my last night in Texas.”
And she blushed just slightly at this, even as she smiled at him.
So beautiful. Even all these years later.
“Well, then,” she said, looking at him. “Good luck to you. With all of your work. And the new guy coming to help you out.”
He nodded. “Thanks. You, too.”
And before he could even ask her for her number or a way to get in touch with her... well, he watched her unlock her door and step inside, offering neither.
It was probably for the best.
Namibia