Cherished by Kim Cash Tate

out—though, admittedly, she had to do it several times. Brian? In the music industry? Even now, she had to admonish herself not to go there. His life was his business and none of hers. She hated that he was still in St. Louis, at Living Word, no less. But she’d made up her mind. She wouldn’t stop attending Living Word because of him. If she ran into him, she’d look past him. She’d do what she’d been doing the last seven years—pretend he didn’t exist.
    â€œWhat is she doing here?”
    Stephanie was looking toward the back entrance, so Kelli turned as well. In fact, many were taking a gander at the woman with the sleeveless deep V-neck top and skinny jeans and the long flowing hair.
    â€œWho is that?” Kelli asked.
    â€œHeather,” Cyd said.
    â€œHold up.” Stephanie shifted to get a better look. “Why is Logan with her?”
    Heather . Kelli remembered the name. The one who had the affair with Scott.
    Heather’s eyes connected with theirs . . . and fell. She whispered something to Logan and sat in the back.
    Cyd turned back around. “So Heather’s a songwriter?”
    Stephanie shrugged. “Who knows? Opportunist more than anything.”
    Logan walked up from behind and whispered something to Cyd. She got up and followed him out of the room.
    Stephanie stared after them. “What in the world?”
    From a front entrance, Rita Miller walked in with her husband, followed by Monica Styles, Mallory Knight, and Ace Vincent. Everyone but Rita sat behind his or her nameplate at the front. Rita stood behind a lectern at the end of the table and waited as the room quieted.
    â€œGood morning,” she said, her smile bright. “I’m so excited about our first workshop session this morning. Typically we focus on the technical and creative aspects of songwriting, the business of songwriting, and so on, and that’s all good. But this morning we’re going to take a step back. We want to talk about the most important aspect of this ministry of songwriting—and it’s not a pen, a piece of paper, or an instrument. It’s the heart.
    â€œSongs of worship begin with a heart of worship and a life of worship. So we’re calling this session ‘Heart of a Psalmist.’ Our panelists are going to be open about their struggles in keeping a right heart in the midst of all the busyness and the disappointments and the successes. Temptations do come, and if we yield to them, we can be taken off track. If our focus is not ever and always on glorifying God—trust me—it’s easy to lose our way.”
    Heads nodded around the room, Kelli’s among them. She remembered when songwriting was as natural as breathing, back when her relationship with God was strong. In all these “off track” years, she hadn’t heard a new melody or lyric in her head.
    â€œLet me introduce our panel members,” Rita was saying. “To my immediate left is my husband, Jim . . .”
    Kelli turned as Cyd slipped back into her seat.
    â€œ. . . and there’s Logan Duncan,” Rita said, looking toward the back, “who apparently had lost his way.”
    The attendees chuckled as Logan gave a sheepish grin and took his place among the panelists.
    Stephanie leaned toward Cyd. “What was that about?”
    Cyd whispered, “Tell you later.”
    â€œWas it about Heather?”
    â€œLater.”
    â€œ. . . and lastly, Ace Vincent, drummer and songwriter for No Return,” Rita said. “Thanks, all of you, for giving of your time for this conference.”
    The room applauded.
    â€œMonica, I want to start with you,” Rita said. “You told me something just now in the hallway and said you didn’t mind sharing it with the group.”
    Monica nodded. “But I have to warn you, I didn’t say I’d share it with a right heart—because it’s still fresh, and I’m kinda