A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but envy the rottenness of the bones.
Proverbs 14:30

Johanna
"Johanna!" I heard Pastor Fernando call out as the rest of the worship team began to gather for our opening prayer. I quickly made my way toward him, joining the group that was forming near the front.

Just as I found my place among them, a striking woman entered the church and walked gracefully toward us. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, and the outfit she wore—sassy yet elegant—made her look effortlessly stunning.

"Geneva! So glad you made it. Where's your sister?" I heard Pastor Trina ask warmly as she stepped forward to greet her with a hug.

So her name is Geneva. I smiled faintly to myself, quietly admiring her poise. She looks like she could walk right onto a runway.

"Ugh... she's having a terrible headache," Geneva replied, her voice laced with subtle irritation. "Says she can't make it."

"Oh, I see. We'll be praying for her," Pastor Trina nodded kindly. "By the way, you're just in time—we're about to begin practice."

"Yeah... I was also told we've got a new member on the worship team?" Geneva asked, slipping effortlessly into the circle.

"Yes!" Pastor Fernando turned to me, gently taking my hand. "In fact, she'll be leading worship tomorrow. This is Johanna Dumay."

I offered a small smile, but the moment Geneva laid eyes on me, I felt it—her gaze swept over me from head to toe, sharp and inspecting. I looked down quickly, suddenly unsure of myself. What was that all about?

"Oh? Great!" she finally said, extending a hand toward me. "My name's Geneva Sepnayen. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine," I replied softly as I took her hand.

"So, Sister Johanna..." she started, her tone casual but pointed. "How long have you been a believer? I've been in this church for the last eighteen years."

Her words hit me like a sudden gust of wind. Eighteen years? I froze. What could I possibly say to that? I'd only been a believer for less than a year.

"Well, I—uh—"

"She just got here a few months ago," came a calm voice from the side.

I looked over and saw Melchour stepping out of the Minister's office, walking toward us with quiet authority.

"But who's counting, right?" he continued, looking around the circle. "When someone is saved, fully commits to God, and you can see the fruit of transformation—well, that's what really matters, isn't it?"

The air felt thick for a moment. Geneva's posture stiffened just slightly.

"O-of course, Pastor," she replied with a soft stammer, her smile forced.

I breathed out slowly, relieved I didn't have to explain myself. Thank You, Lord...

"Alright, everybody—let's gather in," Pastor Fernando said, motioning with his hands. "Let's begin in prayer."

Everyone started moving to their places. I saw Geneva take a microphone and head up to the platform. She must be one of the backup vocals.

I tried to focus, to settle myself—but something inside me still squirmed. The idea of standing up there beside her made me suddenly aware of every little insecurity I had.

Oh Lord... what is wrong with me? Please help me focus. Help me worship with a pure heart.

Geneva
"She just got here a few months ago..." Melchour's voice echoed through the church as he stepped out of the minister's office. "But who's counting, right? When someone is saved, fully commits to God, and that transformation is reflected in their life—then that's all that matters, isn't it?"

His words struck something in me, but not in the way a typical pastoral statement would. Was that just a leader stepping in to clarify? Or was that... someone defending a person who meant something to him?

"O-of course, Pastor," I responded quickly, masking my unease with a polite smile.

I glanced at him discreetly as he joined the circle, catching a faint gleam in his eyes as he looked at her. That subtle shift in his expression—soft, familiar—made something twist in my chest. Who is she to him?

I knew how things worked in our church. Pastor Fernando was always clear about it: if someone had a gift and a willing heart, no matter how new they were, they would be given a chance—trained, encouraged, and entrusted with leadership. And I agreed with that in principle. I really did.

But deep inside, questions were rising that I didn't know how to silence.

How are we so sure she's truly living for God? What if it's all surface? What if we're just drawn in by charisma and not character?

"Alright, everyone! Song copies are being handed out—let's begin. Key of E!" Pastor Ryan called out, signaling the start of our practice.

I watched her climb up the platform and felt a sting in my heart. I'd been here for over eighteen years. I've served faithfully. I've led worship—yes—but mostly in our outreach locations, never at the main church, never in front of the full crowd.

And here she was, barely a few months in, already leading worship.

What does she have that I don't?

Even as the thought crossed my mind, guilt crept in right behind it. Lord, I know this isn't pleasing to You. I don't want to feel this way. Please help me surrender this. But... even if I do, will that stop the ache?

The music began, and her voice rose above the rest—not forcefully, but with a natural clarity that drew attention. Even without a mic, it carried beautifully. Her movements were confident, her feet subtly dancing to the rhythm, and though it was just practice, it already felt like a full-blown worship service.

She had presence. That much was clear.

I tried to focus, to worship. I really did. But the thoughts wouldn't leave me alone.

She's talented, sure... but is that all it takes to stand up there?
And what if what I saw in Melchour's eyes... was real?
What if he sees something in her he never saw in me?

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling slightly as I joined in the chorus.

Lord... what if I'm not just losing a moment—I'm losing something else entirely?

Johanna
As the closing prayer ended, everyone began to move around, chatting and enjoying the moment. Praise God, I thought to myself. Everything went well. I stood up and began to gather my things.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Geneva walk toward Melchour. They seemed to be talking about something lighthearted, and I caught a glimpse of her holding onto his arm playfully. I paused for a second. It wasn't jealousy I felt—but rather, a gentle awareness. A curious kind of noticing. But I reminded myself to stay grounded. Whatever their relationship was, I had no place assuming anything. I took a deep breath and continued fixing my things.

"Anna, are you going home already?" I heard the familiar voice of Melchour behind me.

"Y-yeah... I should probably run off now. I need some sleep for tomorrow." I gave him a soft smile as I lifted my bag. Deep down, I expected he might offer to walk me home again—but with so many people around, I didn't want to make anything feel complicated.

"Bye!" I gave him a quick wave and started walking away. I couldn't quite name the heaviness I felt, but I knew I just needed a little space to clear my head.

"Anna, wait!" I heard him call after me, but I gently raised my hand and spoke without turning around, "Enjoy your night!"

Before I could even get out of the gate, someone suddenly called out, "Hey Anna!"

I turned and saw Jason—my schoolmate and fellow believer from the same church—approaching with a big smile on his face.

"Jason? What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, I heard your team practicing earlier and decided to drop by to see how things were going. I only live a few blocks away, you know," he said with a grin. He was one of those effortlessly charming people. His features—sharp nose, deep-set eyes, that quiet confidence—definitely explained why many of the girls in school admired him.

"Oh, right. Well, practice is already over. I'm actually on my way home, but if you want to hang out with the others, they're still inside," I offered.

"Ah, well... to be honest, I actually came here to see you," he said. "But since you're going home, maybe I could walk you?"

That caught me off guard. "Oh? You came to see me? Why?" I asked as we started walking side by side.

He scratched his head a little, then said, "Well... let's wait 'til we're outside the church grounds first. It's... kind of personal."

As we exited the gates, I noticed the moon hanging brightly above us. It brought back a memory—the night Melchour once walked me home under the same kind of moonlight. I tucked the thought away. That was then. This is now.

"So," I asked as we strolled, "what did you want to tell me?"

Jason stopped in his tracks. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. There was a seriousness in his face I wasn't used to seeing.

"Johanna... I honestly don't know how to say this right, but I've been carrying this for a long time." His eyes locked onto mine. "Seeing you join our church... that was the sign I needed. I think... it's time to be honest."

I blinked, unsure of what was coming.

"Honest about what?" I asked gently.

He hesitated, then finally spoke. "About how I feel. Johanna... I've liked you since we were in first year. I just never had the courage to say it. But now, seeing you again... and the woman you're becoming... I felt like I needed to say it out loud. I don't expect an answer right now. But I hope you'd give me a chance—to show you how much I care."

I was silent for a moment. It was a lot to process. Not in a bad way, but... unexpected. I never saw him in that light before. He'd always been a familiar face—someone I respected, someone kind. But nothing more.

"Well... I-uh..." I fumbled for words as the breeze swept past us. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, but my heart wasn't ready to give an answer.

"Jason... thank you," I finally said, "Thank you for being honest, and for trusting me with this. I don't take it lightly. But I really need to pray about it first. I want to make sure I'm led by God, not just by emotion. I hope that's okay."

He smiled and nodded. "Of course, Johanna. That's more than fair. Take your time. I'm just... glad I finally told you."

As we continued to walk, I couldn't help but feel grateful—for his honesty, for the peace I still felt in my heart, and for the grace to handle things the right way.

Melchour
Watching Anna walk out the door with another man stirred something in me I couldn't quite shake off. There was this gnawing uneasiness building in my chest. Why would she just walk off like that? Did I do or say something wrong?

My jaw tightened slightly as I caught a glimpse of her disappearing down the path. She seemed... distant. Not just physically, but in the way she moved. It didn't sit right with me. And seeing her walk alongside that guy—Jason, was it?—didn't help the feeling creeping up my spine. I could only pray she'd be safe.

A gentle pat on my back pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Melchour, are you alright?" Geneva's voice came with concern as she looked up at me.

I gave her a small nod. "Yeah... I'm okay."

She studied my face for a moment and followed my gaze toward the church entrance.

"You sure? You look like something hit you hard. Is it about her?" she asked, her voice softer now, her eyes reading mine.

I let out a slow breath. "I've just never seen Anna like that before. It was... unexpected, that's all. But don't worry, Sis. I'm fine."

Geneva gave a small, understanding smile and glanced once more toward the doorway before nudging me gently. "Well, if you say so. C'mon now, the coffee's already brewed. Might help clear your head before it gets cold."

I forced a thankful smile and nodded. "Thanks, Geneva."

As we walked toward the fellowship hall, I tried to shake off the thoughts chasing me. I couldn't afford to dwell on emotions right now. I had a mission waiting for me tomorrow. And if God was going to move through me, I needed my heart settled, not distracted.

But even as I sat with a warm mug in hand, my mind wandered again to her—her expression, her silence, her sudden leave.

Lord... if there's something I need to know, speak to me. If this is just me, help me lay it down. But if not... show me what I must do.

Johanna
"That was wonderful, Anna! You did great!" I turned and was quickly enveloped in Pastor Marina's warm embrace.

"Thank you... I still have so much to learn," I replied, smiling as I held her hands.

"Aww, it's alright. You did very well—glory to God," she said with a cheerful nod before leaning closer to whisper with a grin, "Though, you do have to befriend the microphone. You've got to learn how to handle it properly—it really affects how your voice comes out, you know."

"Oh!" I chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Yes, I'll definitely keep that in mind. I'd love to learn more tips from you next practice—if that's okay?"

"Sure thing, my dear, sure thing." She squeezed my hands. "By the way, I need to run—I've got to grab a few things for our Church Anniversary next week."

"Wait, really? Our church anniversary is next week?"

"Yes! So be prepared, okay? Starting tomorrow, we've got a lot on our plate. Keep in touch!"

"I will, Pastor! Thank you again." I waved as she headed for the exit, a sense of excitement rising in me. A full week of preparations... thank God classes don't start until next week, or I'd probably have to skip work again at the restaurant.

"Great job, Anna..."

I turned and saw Melchour standing behind me, smiling. My heart skipped a little at the sight of him, but I wasn't quite sure how to respond. The image of him and Geneva yesterday briefly crossed my mind. I quickly lowered my gaze.

"Oh, glory to God," I replied softly.

"By the way... where's Geneva, Manung?" I asked, trying to sound neutral.

"Oh, her? She had to leave before noon. Her job keeps her on a tight schedule."

"Oh? What does she do?"

"She's an English teacher—and she does tutoring in the evenings too, so she's not always able to make it to services or practices."

"I see..." I nodded thoughtfully. So... she's a teacher too. That's admirable. And honestly... they seem like such a natural pair.

"Uhm... by the way, I saw Jason with you last night as you were leaving. Did you have plans with him?" His tone caught me off guard. It sounded different... almost hesitant. I lifted an eyebrow slightly, curious. Was that concern in his voice?

"Oh no," I shook my head. "He just came by, actually. Even I was surprised. We just talked a bit, and then he left afterward."

"Talked?" His gaze lingered on mine for a moment. "About what kind of stuff?"

"Well, it's kinda—"

"Pastor Melchour!" A voice from behind us suddenly called out. We both turned to see Pastor Ryan waving from across the church.

I looked back at Melchour for a second before the conversation faded into the background. Whatever that was... it felt unfinished.

And I couldn't help but wonder what he was really thinking.

Melchour
"Yes, Brother?" I asked as Pastor Ryan approached, his chest rising and falling with every breath like he'd just run a mile.

"What is it, Ryan? Are you okay?" I asked, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"It's... it's my wife," he managed to say, his voice trembling. "She just got rushed to the hospital. Nina said she fell down the stairs and hit her head."

The words hit me like a jolt. No wonder he looked so shaken. His expression was full of worry, the kind that went beyond words.

"I'm really sorry, Melchour," he added, trying to keep it together. "I won't be able to go with you today. I need to see my wife."

"Of course, I understand," I replied, tightening my grip on his shoulder for a second before letting go. "Go take care of her. I'll figure something out. I'll just take Pastor Marina with me."

But then Anna, who had been quietly listening, stepped forward. "Uhm... Pastor Marina already left. She said she needed to buy things for the church anniversary next week."

She looked genuinely concerned. I could see the same thought I had written all over her face: What now?

"I'm sure God will make a way, Melchour," Ryan said, backing away as he glanced at his phone. "He always does. Right now, I really need to go. I'm sorry again..."

I nodded and watched him head out, clearly carrying the weight of worry on his shoulders. I started to feel that same weight pressing on me. This wasn't just any small church—this was one of our main centers, and I'd been asked to minister there. The musicians had already left earlier, and Ryan was supposed to lead the worship. Now... it was just me.

"Melchour, are you alright?" Anna's voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to her. "I didn't expect today to turn out like this. If Pastor Ryan's not around, that's going to be a problem. You know I don't sing."

"Well... couldn't you tell the members of the church you're visiting to prepare someone to lead the worship?" she asked, trying to offer a solution.

"I would," I said, "but there's no signal that deep in the woods. You know that. I won't be able to call or text anyone until I'm already there."

A bit of silence settled between us. I looked at her. She was trying to hold a calm face, but I could see she was troubled too.

"Johanna?" I asked.

"Hmm?" Her eyes met mine.

"Would you be willing to come with me?" I said it straight. No pretense. Just honest.

She paused, then glanced down, thinking. I waited.

Finally, she looked back up, a soft smile forming on her lips. "Of course I would."

I exhaled slowly, a sense of relief washing over me. That one answer lifted the weight I had been carrying in my chest. But what caught me most off-guard was the way she reached out and gently placed her hand over mine. It wasn't just a gesture of agreement—it was... something more.

For a second, I just looked at her, not saying a word. A quiet assurance settled in me. Maybe—just maybe—this is the help I had been praying for all along.

Johanna
The thought of being able to assist Melchour filled my heart with joy. It wasn't just about going with him—it was the opportunity to glorify God again through worship, through my voice. It was something I deeply missed. A gentle smile formed on my lips as I turned to him.

"By the way, Melchour... how much time do we need to get there?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm, probably about an hour and a half. It's near the church we went to last Monday, but today's destination has a longer walking trail—if you're commuting, that is..."

"Oh, I see. And what time does the service start?"

"5 p.m."

My eyes quickly dropped to my watch. "Wait—5 p.m.? But it's already almost 3!"

I looked up at him with concern. "Are we going to make it in time?"

He just chuckled softly, his voice calm and reassuring. "We'll make it. Don't worry, Anna. We'll be using the motorcycle."

"The—motorcycle?" I blinked. Did I hear him right?

"Yeah," he replied casually, already turning toward the pastoral house.

I stood there for a second, completely frozen. Is he serious? Oh my goodness...