The music started, and a sharp, professional praise band started in with “Blessed Be Your Name,” a beautiful number by Matt Redman. The music and words were familiar, but Kelly hadn’t heard them in so long that the memory of them almost seemed to belong to someone else. Even still, there was power in the sound of thousands of women’s voices singing the same song, believing the same message.
“Blessed be Your name, in the land that is plentiful …”
Kelly was familiar with the first verse, the picture of joy and prosperity during times when it was relatively easy to worship God. She let herself be drawn by the music, by the ebb and flow of it. By the time the song reached the first chorus, ladies all around her were rising to their feet, hands raised in praise. Kelly moved her mouth, singing along even if she didn’t feel the words.
The second verse kicked in and Kelly finally felt her heart engage.
The words seemed to hang on the screen longer than usual, and Kelly read over them again and again. Words about her being in the desert place. Wasn’t that exactly where she was now? She and Chase barely spoke to each other, and she couldn’t stop her cravings for more than a day or two, no matter how hard she prayed.
Suddenly it hit her that maybe there was a connection. It was times like this — when she was in a desert, in a wilderness — that she most needed to bless the name of the Lord.
She stood as the song played on, and she clasped her hands near her chest. Next to her, Laurie was already on her feet. God was here; Kelly could feel His presence. But what could He possibly want with her? She had no right to stand here with these other women, women who were better believers, more faithful followers.
The song built to a crescendo and Kelly was surprised to feel tears on her cheeks. She dabbed at them and remained standing as the next song blended with the last. It was a Hillsong praise number called “Mighty to Save,” and in the stronger days of last fall it had been one of her favorites. “Everyone needs compassion … love that’s never failing …” The music grew and built to the chorus and Kelly had the strong sense that the words, the melody, were for her alone.
After another few songs, the morning worship ended and a speaker took the stage. She talked about the battle of life and how in the end Christians had the privilege of knowing for certain that they win.
Kelly was knocked back in her seat by that simple truth. She hadn’t thought about that realization for far too long. No matter how tiresome and weary she felt today, with Christ she was on the winning team. She wasn’t supposed to grovel along, discouraged and depressed. She was supposed to draw strength from that one fact. Her team was going to win. Why couldn’t she just believe God would take care of them when they had so much to look forward to? She felt terrible, like the worst possible wife, the worst Christian ever. If only she’d heard this six months ago, before things had gotten so out of control.
More music followed but Kelly couldn’t sing along. She stared at her lap and let the tears fall. The second speaker talked about the struggles and disappointments of life and how wrong it was to drag them through each day when God called all people to trade them in.
“Give Him your ashes, and He’ll give you a crown of beauty,” the woman declared.
The entire auditorium burst into applause.
Kelly thought about that. How long had she walked around dragging a bag of ashes? And wasn’t there a point in time when it was too late to trade it in for beauty? Certainly God had to be tired of her weak attempts at living a Christian life. Maybe ashes were all that was left for her now.
The next speaker talked how each of them needed to accept their place in life, because God was the One who had done the placing. When she was finished, the speaker invited ladies to the front if they wanted to ask Jesus into their lives for the first time. “He’s calling you, my friends, calling you to a life of freedom and strength, peace and purpose. Come now; don’t let anything hold you back.”
Kelly fidgeted in her seat. She had fresh tears on her cheeks, but this wasn’t the time to go up front. Besides, she already had Jesus. She’d believed in Him, and she’d been baptized. What more was there? Someone might see her and wonder why she was going up when she’d been a Christian all her life. She’d served as a missionary, after all.
But when the first wave of women reached the front, the speaker invited another group of people.
“Maybe you’ve been stuck in your faith, unable to hear God or feel His strength in your life. If that’s you, then this is your day, your moment. Come and give Him your situation. Feel His loving arms holding you up, leading you to the front of the room where people can pray for you.”
There was no one holding onto her, no one pulling her to her feet, and no one keeping her stuck to her chair. But Kelly felt the struggle as surely as she felt her next heartbeat. A tug-of-war was going on between the life she’d been living and the life God was calling her to. A tug-of-war where she, Kelly Ryan, was the rope. She watched as one woman and then another, and then dozens of women made their way to the front. Emotions and heartache flowed freely and the floor of the HP Pavilion became wet with the tears of the women strong enough to accept the call.
But still Kelly sat. She hadn’t come here to make a decision or find renewal in her walk with Christ. She was simply taking a break for herself, spending time with Laurie. She needed more time before making a decision like the one the women around her were making. If she went up front, that meant she was willing to give up her resentment of Chase’s determination to make movies and find strength in Scripture — the way she used to find it.
Maybe tomorrow or next week, but not now. She remained seated, watching countless women find freedom. Next to her, Laurie leaned close and patted her knee. “Like I said, God’s doing something here today.”
No question. But it would take longer for Him to do something with Kelly. No amount of emotion or tears could change her life or the facts as they were. Chase had no patience for her concerns and he seemed to rush to get out the door and back to LA. She was overwhelmed most of the time and she would most likely remain so — even with the Prozac. If she went forward here and now, then what? That wouldn’t make her into the nice, supportive wife or clear away the work she had in running their home by herself.
Not now, God. I can’t surrender now … I’m not sure about anything. The pressure on the rope grew greater. She could feel it, feel the battle raging. But still she sat.
During lunch, Kelly excused herself to the restroom. But afterward, she stepped outside and sat on the edge of a cement block wall under an overhang, one of the few places outdoors that was still dry. She didn’t care about eating; a boxed lunch wasn’t interesting to her on a day like this, and there was no candy for sale inside — she’d checked.
“Okay, God … What are You doing?”
She’d had her phone off all morning, but now she turned it on. She felt a sudden urge to talk to Chase. Even for a few minutes. She clicked his name and immediately the phone began to ring. She waited — two rings, three, but on the fourth the call went to his voicemail. Her mouth opened to leave him a message, an apology or a plea that he call her later so they could talk. But nothing seemed right, and she hung up. Better to talk to him in person.
The rain had let up, but still the sky remained a dark gray. In a moment like this it was hard to believe the sky would ever clear again, same as it was hard to believe that for her life.
Why, God? Why am I fighting You?
She pictured the prayer lifting all the way to heaven, but there was no answer. No sign that God cared about her sitting here, lost in her own little world of ashes and self-pity.
Inside the music started up again. Laurie would wonder where she’d gone and how come she’d passed on lunch. Kelly pulled herself up and worked her way through the crowd back to her seat. The song was another Hillsong number, “From the Inside Out,” and they were halfway through the first verse when Kelly took her seat.
“Everything okay??
?? Laurie looked into her eyes, clearly trying to see the truth.
“Fine.” Kelly covered with a quick smile. “I went out to call Chase.”
“Oh.” Her friend nodded. “Good.”
She turned her attention to the praise band. No point telling Laurie she hadn’t even gotten through to her husband. She’d needed time alone — even in this massive crowd. The music filled the air around them. “Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades … never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame …”
The line seemed custom-made for Kelly. No matter what lay ahead, Christ’s light would remain, beyond the darkness and valleys, beyond the deserts and wilderness. Beyond any fame — whether their future involved a movie deal with Brandon Paul or not. God was King of all, Lord of all.
Kelly could still feel something holding her back from breaking completely, from giving in to the Lord’s calling. But the wall was crumbling.
Each word of the song seemed written for her, and she stood with the other women, joining her voice with the throng.
She wanted to believe the lyrics, wanted to let God have His way with her, but her shame and guilt were too great. What reason would the Lord have for wanting her? How many times had she given God control only to take it back the next morning — overwhelmed by worry and discouragement? She was stuck, but still she sang, and as she did she could feel her vision growing clearer, feel the Lord’s love nearer than before.
Finally, at the end of the day, came a concert by Nicole C. Mullen. Back in the days when Kelly listened to Christian music morning to night, Nicole had been one of her favorites. Her songs “Redeemer” and “Call on Jesus” were songs that marked eras in her life, times when she was a new mom and doubting her ability to stay strong for everyone who needed her. Kelly hadn’t known Nicole was closing out the day, and now her time here seemed ordained from God. As if the Lord Himself had arranged for this performance.
“I need a brainwash from my head to my soul … I need a brainwash, bring it down to my toes …” Nicole’s voice rang out across the auditorium. She was young and fit, and she easily danced as well as any of the teenage dancers behind her on the stage, including her fourteen-year-old daughter. The audience was on its feet singing along, enjoying the call to be of pure mind. Kelly swayed to the music, startled by the message.
The battle she was losing was in her mind. Each day she woke up overwhelmed only to wallow in self-pity the whole day — feeding the emptiness in her soul with comfort food. Only if she changed her mind, only if she gave God control over her thoughts, would she find freedom from her depression and mindless eating.
Nicole moved on to her hit songs, and all around her Kelly could hear the sniffling of women giving in to God’s gentle prodding. “I know … my Redeemer lives … I know, my Redeemer lives …” Kelly sang along, and for the first time that day she felt herself meaning every word. She was a failure, yes, and a sinner at the worst level. She’d ignored God and walked purposefully in a direction opposite the one He called her to. But still He lived, and He was hers. Her very own Redeemer. Even if she were the only one left on the face of earth.
The concert flew by, and toward the end, Kelly could feel tears on her cheeks again. She couldn’t fight God much longer. It was a losing battle. No matter how much she’d let Him down, He wasn’t giving up on her. She could feel the rope of her soul sliding in His direction.
Nicole ended her performance by introducing her last song with a brief story. “There was a woman in the Bible, desperate for healing. A woman who had been suffering for more than a decade. No one and nothing could heal her, but Jesus was passing by that day. There would be crowds of people, and hundreds more worthy of His attention than she could ever be.” Nicole walked slowly to the edge of the stage. “But she knew. She absolutely knew that if she could only reach out and touch the hem of His garment, she would be healed. Her belief in Him and His power was that strong.” She paused, letting the truth of the story sink in around the enormous room. “This song is called ‘One Touch.’”
The music was pretty and lyrical, and Nicole started in with the first verse.
Then, as she sang, something dramatic began to happen. First her daughter, and then the other dancers moved stealthily out onto the stage. The girls wore flowing white dresses and black sweatshirts. On the back of each sweatshirt was a single, simple word: Shame … Guilt … Loneliness … Doubt … Addiction.
Nicole reached the chorus as her dancers formed an ominous half circle around her. Then with every bit of her energy, she clutched desperately at the air in front of her. “If I could just touch the hem of His garment, I know I’d be made whole.“ But as she reached out, the girls with Shame and Guilt and Addiction on their sweatshirts used all their energy to hold her back.
Nicole pushed against them.
The harder Nicole tried to press forward toward Jesus, the more Shame and Guilt, Loneliness and Doubt and Addiction held her back. The image was overwhelming and for the first time — the very first time — Kelly could see an actual picture of her life, the way Jesus saw her. She could try to touch the hem of His garment, she could beg Him for the scraps of His kindness, but something was holding her back. Something she had felt deep inside her for all these months.
Shame, guilt, loneliness, doubt, addiction.
The second verse began, and the story followed the one in the Bible. A crowd of people, a desperate attempt to press through to Jesus. Nicole’s clear voice rang out. As she reached that part where Jesus looked back, every obstacle fighting for her soul stopped and stared.
Kelly began to cry, struck by the picture. That was how the battle went, wasn’t it? If she would only get close enough to Jesus to touch the hem of His garment, she could hear His voice, and the things holding her back would hear it too.
One by one, the dancers representing Shame and Guilt and Loneliness and the rest fell in a heap to the floor. The message was as clear as it was powerful. No barrier could stand in the presence of Christ. “If I could just touch the hem of His garment, I know I’d be made whole.”
As the song built, Kelly’s tears came harder. That was her, reaching out to Jesus and letting her shame and addiction hold her back. But not anymore. “Somehow He pressed His way through my madness,” Nicole sang out, “and His love has healed my soul.”
That was it, Kelly understood now. She needed to get close enough to Jesus to hear His voice, to touch the hem of His garment so she could be made whole again.
Laurie seemed to understand that something was happening with Kelly. She put her hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Let God have His way.”
Kelly nodded as the tears ran down her face and into her mouth. Salty and hot. I’m sorry, Jesus. I don’t want to fight anymore. I surrender. I surrender completely. She didn’t need more convincing. The picture of Nicole straining for Jesus and being held back was one that would stay with her forever. A picture of the battle. But the victory would also stay with her. She didn’t need to fight against shame and guilt and depression. She only needed to stay close to Jesus, where the things that warred against her soul didn’t stand a chance. Close enough to touch the hem of His garment.
The way she was standing now.
A NOTE FROM KAREN
Dear Reader Friends,
More than any other book I’ve written, I was amazed at how life imitated art while I was writing Take Two. Midway through the book, and even after I’d written my outline, I had the privilege of attending the Palm Springs Film Festival, where my movie Like Dandelion Dust was one of the featured films. Like Dandelion Dust was selected as Best of the Festival and received much praise from local news and even a stunning review in Variety. In addition, it won Best Picture at a number of other film festivals.
But that is pretty much where the similarities ended.
The brothers who produced Like Dandelion Dust experienced some of the logistical distractions detailed in Take One, but here in Take Two ficti
on took over. There was no Kendall Adams or Ben Adams in the lives of the real producers. Even so, I believe the storyline of the fictional producers represents an important truth. In today’s market, there is a great hunger for Christian films, for movies with a message and not merely a couple hours of mindless entertainment. That said, the struggle remains. The task of putting a movie onto the big screen is still daunting. I encourage you to pray for the many real-life producers like Chase Ryan and Keith Ellison who sacrifice much for the sake of changing the world with the power of film.
Also, I love that this series gives me the chance to follow Bailey and Cody and their group of friends. College life is very difficult for today’s young people, with many distractions to faith and family and all that is right. It’s important to see how differently a young Christian girl can meet those challenges and tests. Certainly as Andi goes her own way, the consequences will become clear. Likewise, as Bailey chooses God’s will, though she may have heart-ache at times, she will find the plans God has for her.
In the books ahead Tim and Bailey and Cody, Andi and her parents, Chase and Kelly, and Kendall Adams all will face great temptations and trials, and at the same time brilliant, tearful triumphs. As always, I’m grateful you’re continuing this new journey with me, and I look forward to hearing your feedback.
Take a minute and visit my website at www.KarenKingsbury.com, where you can get to know other readers and become part of a community that agrees there is life-changing power in something as simple as a story. On my website you can post prayer requests or pray for those in need. You can send in a photo of your loved one serving our country or let us know of a fallen soldier we can honor on our Fallen Heroes page.
My website will also tell you about my ongoing contests, including “Shared a Book,” which encourages you to let me know when you’ve shared one of my books with someone in your life. Each time you let me know, you’re entered for the chance to spend a summer weekend with my family. In addition, everyone signed up for my monthly newsletter is automatically entered into an ongoing once-a-month drawing for a free, signed copy of my latest novel.