CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LANCE HAD PRAYED HE COULD SOMEHOW GET TREY AND KENDRA to church today. But Trey didn’t come home last night, and Kendra woke feeling nauseated and went back to bed. As he drove, he thought more about it, how hard it would be. Trey hadn’t been in over a year, and Kendra in over a decade, plus her sickness made it that much harder. But by the time he got to Living Word, his mind had begun working in reverse.

Why not bring church to them?

He walked into the youth building with that one thought, unsure what to do with it. What did it mean? Was it something he’d come up with? Or was it God? When Pastor Lyles had raised the idea of starting a church plant in Clayton, he hadn’t felt led to take it on. He couldn’t see himself at the helm of a new church, trying to fill pews in a building. And he cringed at the thought of his name circulating around Clayton as pastor of a new church. Given his former reputation, the only thing that would start was a boycott.

But what if they did something in the home?

Maybe Molly would even come.

He entered the auditorium where the students had service. The worship band was rehearsing, and he stood there a moment, processing. What if he didn’t think of it as church at all? He was known for meeting friends and strangers alike at the Bread Company, hearing their hearts, talking about life, studying, and in the midst of it all, sharing the gospel. Why couldn’t the same thing happen at home?

But how would Mr. Woods feel about that? And what would it look like? Who would even come?

He thought about the circles Trey and Molly ran in, the friends who were a little wild, or troubled, bucking the conventional side of life. They wouldn’t flock to pews in a building anyway. But maybe they’d come for a meal and fellowship.

Lance felt a churning inside. He needed to flesh this out with Pastor Lyles, and—“Cyd!”

Lance didn’t know why he called out to her, but as soon as he saw her walking through the auditorium, the idea popped into his mind. Cyd London lives in Clayton. Her parents had been members of Living Word for three decades. Now in her forties, Cyd had become known herself for a love of discipleship. Nothing was framed in his mind, and yet he already knew he’d be more excited if she were part of it.

Cyd came near, smiling. “Hey, Lance, we were talking about you last night.”

“Uh-oh.”

She laughed. “You know it was all good. We had dinner at my parents’, and Pastor Lyles was raving about you as usual. Then he said something curious—‘Pray about whether the Lord would open a door for Lance to minister in Clayton.’ I wondered what that was about, since you don’t live in Clayton.”

“Actually, I’m staying at Marlon Woodses’ home,” he said.

Her eyes lit up. “Really? That’s awesome. Should be really good for Trey.”

“You’re familiar with the situation?”

Cyd nodded. “From the Living Word side of things and also, I’m a professor at Wash U. So I know Marlon, and I know Trey’s professors. They’re concerned.”

“I forgot you teach up there,” he said.

Lance’s wheels turned all the more.

“Listen,” he said, “are you and Cedric busy after church? I’d love to talk to you about something.”

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Once Lance and Cyd got talking, the ideas flowed. They’d been sitting at the kitchen table in the Woodses’ home for over an hour. Cyd’s husband, Cedric, had bailed before it started.

“I know how my wife is when she gets going with something like this,” he had said. “I’m taking the little man home for a nap.”

The plus was that they lived only three blocks away. Cyd had kissed her toddler son good-bye, and she and Lance got to it.

“So what are our next steps?” she said.

“Prayer, talk to Pastor Lyles to see if he green-lights it, talk to Mr. Woods to get his okay, and more prayer.” Lance looked at what he’d written down. “I want to be sure we’re hearing from God about what to do, how to do it, and even when to start.”

Cyd nodded. “I’m really excited about this, Lance. I’ve always had a heart for younger people, which I guess is no surprise. I think this could have a huge impact.”

“It’s exciting to me, too,” Lance said, “mainly because I feel like it’s God, the way it came out of the blue and—”

They both looked up as Kendra walked into the kitchen, slowly, hand to her stomach, hair unbrushed.

She straightened when she saw Cyd. “Professor Sanders, I didn’t know you were here.”

Cyd rose from her chair. “I didn’t know you were here either.” She hugged her. “Two things, though—it’s London now. I got married three years ago. And please call me Cyd. I’m not that much older than you.” She smiled.

“Sorry, old habits die hard,” Kendra said. “I remember meeting you just after you became a professor at Wash U. My dad introduced us. I must’ve been about fifteen, and I totally looked up to you.” She smiled. “And congrats on getting married.”

“Thanks,” Cyd said, “and didn’t I hear you have a wedding upcoming?”

Lance winced a little.

“It was supposed to be this weekend actually, but . . . it got canceled.”

Cyd looked at her. “How are you, Kendra?”

Kendra tightened her robe. “I’m fine.”

“No, sweetie, really . . .” Cyd took her hand. “How are you?”

Kendra glanced at Lance. “He told you?”

“Lance hasn’t mentioned you at all,” Cyd said.

“I guess you could say I’ve been better, Profess—Cyd.” Kendra stared downward several seconds, then looked at Cyd. “I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer, Stage IV.”

Cyd’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh my Lord.” She brought Kendra close, embracing her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“I know,” Kendra said. “Can we sit down? I’m feeling tired.”

“Absolutely.” Cyd pulled out a chair for her. “I’m glad you decided to come home. I imagine your dad’s on his way back to the States.”

“No.” Kendra paused. “I haven’t told him. I’ve hardly told anyone.”

Cyd leaned in. “Why, sweetheart? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I don’t know,” Kendra said. “When the wedding was canceled, I kind of shut down. Didn’t want to talk to anyone. Didn’t want to have to explain. Didn’t want pity . . .”

“I can understand that,” Cyd said. “So you’ve started treatment? The cancer center at Barnes-Jewish?”

“Yes,” Kendra said. “Right now, it’s chemo every three weeks. I had my first session last Thursday.” She attempted to smile. “Some days are better than others.”

“Probably some moments are better than others,” Cyd said. Her eyes filled with compassion. “I don’t know you that well, Kendra, but I hope I can say this.”

Kendra waited.

“I’ve never walked this road personally, but I’ve walked it with others, and I know it’s a hard one.” She grabbed Kendra’s hand across the table. “You’ll have people who will sincerely want to help you through this. Please . . . let them on your team.”

Kendra glanced at Lance. “I’m learning that.”

“One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

Cyd squeezed her hand. “I’m on the team, whether you like it or not.”