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for?”
    “Someone like Jesus.”
    “Well . . . I can tell you straight up that I’m a long way from that, sir.”
    Paul Hudson sounded young. Samuel took a pad and pen. “Why don’t we start with your qualifications?”
    “I graduated from Midwest Christian College.” He hesitated. “It might be best if you spoke with Dean Whittier about my work there. Since graduating, I’ve been on staff at Mountain High Church.”
    “Youth?”
    “New Christians. All ages.”
    Sounds good. “How long have you been there?”
    “Five years. I just completed my master’s in family counseling.”
    A jack-of-all-trades. “Are you married?”
    “Yes, sir.” Samuel could hear the smile in Hudson’s voice. “My wife’s name is Eunice. I met her in college and married her two weeks after I graduated. She was a music major. She plays piano and she sings. I don’t mean to brag, but Eunice is very gifted.”
    Two ministers for the price of one. “Any children?”
    “Yes, sir. We have a very active three-year-old son named Timothy.”
    “Children are a blessing from the Lord.” Samuel was about to launch into stories about his daughter and son, but pulled himself up short as the pain of Donny’s loss struck him again. He cleared his throat. “Tell me about your relationship with the Lord.”
    He leaned back against the kitchen counter as Paul dove enthusiastically into his personal testimony. Born into a Christian family. Father, a pastor of a church in Southern California. Hudson? The name was ringing bells in Samuel’s head, but he wasn’t certain if they were fire alarms or chimes.
    Paul went on talking. He accepted Christ at the age of ten, active in youth groups, counselor at church camps, worked summers for Habitat for Humanity. Between college classes, he volunteered at a senior-citizens center near the college. He worked with disadvantaged youth and tutored students in reading at an inner-city high school.
    Paul Hudson sounded like a gift from heaven.
    There was a long pause.
    “Mr. Mason?”
    “I’m still here.” Just flabbergasted at the energy of the young.
    “Should I e-mail my resume?” Paul sounded embarrassed.
    Samuel was drawn to his youthful zeal. “We haven’t got a computer.”
    “Fax machine?”
    “Nope.” Samuel rubbed his chin again. “Tell you what. Send your resume to me FedEx.” Since there wasn’t anyone on staff at the church, Samuel gave Paul his home address. “What’s your situation? I’m assuming you have responsibilities at Mountain High Church.”
    “I work in a number of areas, but my primary responsibility right now is teaching two foundational classes.”
    “How long is the course?”
    “Both classes will finish in three weeks. We have a covenant ceremony the week after for those who have made a decision for Christ.”
    “So you wouldn’t be available for four to five weeks.”
    “That’s right, sir. And if I was called, I’d need time to pack and move and settle my family.”
    “That would be no problem. But we don’t want to move too fast. I’ll notify the other elders. We all need to pray about this. Considering all your qualifications, this may not be the best place for you. We’re a small church, Paul. Fewer than sixty people.”
    “It could grow.”
    It would have to grow or they couldn’t afford to pay a new pastor. “Send your resume. I’ll talk with Dean Whittier again.” Samuel wanted to make sure Paul Hudson was the young man the dean meant. “I’ll get back to you in a week or so. How does that sound to you?”
    “Wise, sir.”
    “I’d hire you right now, Paul, but we’d better slow down and see if this is where the Lord wants you.”
    “I can tend to run on overdrive, Mr. Mason. I’ve been praying that the Lord would call me to pastor a church.”
    Samuel liked the sound of his voice. “Nothing you’ve said to me will work against you.”
    They exchanged a few pleasantries and Samuel hung up. He went back into the living room. “Do,