Page 40 of His Elder
"Samuel—"
"Getawayfrom me!" I was shouting now, my voice ragged. "You don't understand. You don'tbelieve.You think this is all just some game, some oppressive system you can walk away from whenever you want. But this is mylife.This is my eternity. And you've ruined it. You've ruinedme."
Eli stood slowly, his expression shuttering. "I didn't ruin you. I showed you that you're not broken."
"Iambroken." The words were a whisper now, all the fight draining out of me. "And I can't be fixed."
Eli stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then he turned and walked to the door, his hand on the knob.
"We have district meeting in an hour," he said, his voice flat. "I'll be outside."
The door closed behind him, and I was alone.
I sank to the floor, my back against the wall, and pulled my knees to my chest. The chapel was silent around me, the morning light streaming through the high windows, illuminating the dust motes in the air. I closed my eyes and tried to pray.
The words wouldn't come.
12
SAMUEL
Isat in the back row of the district meeting room, my scriptures open on my lap to a page I wasn't reading. The words blurred together, meaningless symbols on thin paper. Across the room, Eli slouched in his chair, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the window. He hadn't looked at me once since we'd arrived.
Elder Kempton stood at the front, his shoulders squared, his voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "—and that's why commitment is essential. Without it, we're just tourists in the Lord's vineyard, brothers. Tourists."
Elder Moss and Elder Brown exchanged a glance. Elder Torres scribbled notes with the fervor of a man desperate to avoid Kempton's attention.
"Now," Kempton said, his gaze sweeping the room, "I want to address something that's been concerning me."
My stomach dropped.
"We've had some strong companionships in this district.Elder Brown and Elder Moss, despite your... creative interpretation of the rules, you're bringing people to Christ. Elder Michaels, your baptism last month was a testament to your dedication."
He paused, his eyes landing on me.
"Elder Price."
I straightened, my hands gripping the edges of my scriptures.
"You've been a model missionary since you arrived in Spain. Your numbers are excellent. Your testimony is strong. President Dalton speaks highly of you." Kempton's smile was thin, sharp. "But I've noticed something lately. A change."
The room went silent. Eli's jaw tightened, but he still didn't look at me.
"You're distracted," Kempton continued. "Your focus has shifted. And I have to wonder—" He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture radiating judgment. "—if perhaps you're being spiritually weakened by... influences that don't share your commitment to the work."
Heat flooded my face. Eli's hand curled into a fist on his lap.
"Now, I'm not accusing anyone of anything," Kempton said, his tone suggesting the exact opposite. "But the Apostle Paul warned us about being 'unequally yoked.' When one companion is striving for perfection and the other is merely going through the motions, the stronger one will inevitably be dragged down."
My throat closed. The words were a brand, burning into me.
"I'm going to be reassigning companions next week," Kempton announced. "President Dalton has given me authority to make adjustments where necessary. Elder Price, I think you'd benefit from a companion who shares your spiritual maturity. Someone who can help you regain your focus."
Eli finally looked at me. His expression was unreadable.
"Any questions?" Kempton asked.
Silence.