Decisions
1/6/1996
Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, “This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.”Luke 14:28-30
56
GEORGE ARCHER’S BLUE LINCOLN glided easily down the thoroughfare as he and Wayne talked, returning from a trip to the local supermarket. Spring weather had finally come and they were looking forward to a cookout at Wayne’s home. Their ice-maker was on the blink, plus they couldn’t eat barbecue without coleslaw — so the two men nobly volunteered to run up to Al’s Food Emporium.
As they crested the next hill in their journey homeward, Wayne spotted a car stranded on the side of the road — jacked up, with two flat tires lying on the shoulder next to it. “Looks like Tony’s car,” Wayne mused.
“Sure does.” They drove past slowly, scrutinizing the scene for signs of life. “Do you think we should go back and check it out?”
“No, look up there.”
About 200 yards ahead, they recognized the familiar profile of Tony Veneziano, thumb out, walking backward. George pulled the car to the shoulder. As the car approached, Tony eyed it cautiously, hoping the occupants had good intentions. When the car stopped, Tony recognized them and ran to the passenger side with a broad grin.
Wayne rolled the window down and teased, “Now, is that the same Impala you’ve been trying to sell me?”
Tony released a stammered chuckle. “Really, there’s nothin’ wrong with it. It’s just that my spare musta’ lost its seal and wasn’t no good, see.”
“Sure, I understand,” Wayne laughed. “Climb in.”
Tony didn’t hesitate. He opened the rear door and jumped in. George pulled back onto the highway and spoke first. “You have any plans tonight, Tony?”
“Well, I was gonna do some laundry ‘til this happened. See, it’s my night off and I got kind of a routine, ya know. Now, I’m not sure what I’m gonna do.”
“Where do you live?” George asked.
“I live over behind the McDonald’s on 18th and Spencer. My washa’ is broke, so I’ve been takin’ my stuff up to the Quick-Mat.”
“You don’t live too far from me,” Wayne chimed in. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. We’re on our way back to my house for a cookout with some friends. What if we swing by your place, pick up your laundry and bring it to my house? Then you can get your laundry done and we’ll treat you to some great food and company.”
Tony’s expressive face curdled in concern. “Hey, listen, you don’t hafta do all that. I can just—”
“Really, it’s no trouble at all.” Wayne turned to face him. “We’d like you to come.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
THE SWEET, PUNGENT SMELL of barbecue sauce filled the dining room as Emily placed a large pot of corn on the cob on the table to complete the buffet. Wayne gathered the children as everyone assembled around the table. Tony seemed to be enjoying himself and beamed as if he hadn’t been with a family in a long time. His face displayed surprise as Ted began a song of thanksgiving to God.
“Give thanks with a grateful heart, give thanks to the Holy One…”
Tony looked around, smiling broadly as he noticed even the children joining this simple song of devotion. They repeated the chorus, and Emily’s eyes lit up as she heard Tony’s deep voice making an effort to join them.
When the song ended, there was a brief silence. Then Wayne spoke for the household of believers. “Jesus, we’re very thankful for the way You treat us. You’re really good to us, in spite of the fact that we frequently fall short of Your Glory. If You hadn’t made provision for us, who knows where we’d be now. But You feed us. You clothe us. You shelter us. We live like kings, better than Solomon ever did. You’re our God. We’re Your children and Your servants. We want to bring You joy, Lord. We want to make You smile, to fill Your heart with joy the way You’ve filled ours. We love You, Jesus. We appreciate the feast You’ve laid before us and acknowledge that You are the Giver of all good things. Please join us as we share this meal together. Amen.”
While those around him echoed Wayne’s “amen,” Tony reflexively reached for his left, then right shoulder with his hand. He stopped himself when he noticed no one else did…These guys ain’t Catholic. He dropped his eyebrows. I never heard anyone talk like that to God before. So real…and honest. Wayne talks like he knows Him. He sensed a freshness he’d never associated with God and he kind of liked it.
“HEY, IT’S GETTIN’ LATE. I’d betta’ run.”
“No problem, I’ll give you a ride,” George volunteered.
“Hey, Tony, before you go…should I pick you up at nine in the morning?” Wayne noted the puzzled expression on Tony’s face and explained, “So we can get that tire fixed?”
“Oh…yeah. That’d be great. Thanks a lot!”
“No problem…Oh, don’t forget your laundry.”
“Wow, I can’t believe I almost left that.” Tony found his way to the kitchen where Eric was folding Tony’s sheets and neatly placing them in his plastic laundry basket.
“Thanks. You didn’t hafta do all that.” Tony muscled the heavy, flimsy basket up onto his knee, then squeezed it against his chest.
“You’re welcome, Tony.” Eric waved as Tony and George made their way out the front door.
During the short trip to his house, Tony expressed curiosity in his usual frank manner, “So, what religion are you guys anyway?”
When George didn’t answer right away, Tony spoke up again. “I hope that’s okay to ask, I dunno.”
“No, that’s fine. We really aren’t a part of any ‘religion’ in the sense of a denomination. We’re just Christians.” George parked the car in Tony’s driveway, cut off the ignition, and turned toward him.
“Just Christians? Wha’d’ya mean?”
“We’ve come from different backgrounds and different denominations. But we’re trying to see past some of the man-made religious stuff we’ve taken for granted and just love God and each other.”
“Sounds kinda simple. I mean, in a good way.”
“It’s what Jesus intended, though it got Him in a lot of trouble in His day. Things have really drifted a long way from simply loving God and caring about one another — to the mostly cash-register, plug-and-play religion we see around us today. We’ve really made a mess of things. As most people in the world are quick to point out — accurately, I’m afraid — there is way too much hypocrisy in religion today.”
“Yeah, that stuff drives me nuts. It ain’t right.”
“You’re right, it’s not. And it was never meant to be that way.” They sat for a minute in the dark. “Tony, can I ask you something?” Tony consented with a nod. “It’s really easy for us to talk about the rest of the world, but how about you? Do you have a real relationship with Jesus?”
Tony thought for a long time, contrasting what he saw tonight and the void that existed inside. He was long in answering. Honesty was painful. “I’m not even sure I know what that means.”
57
WAYNE PACED ACROSS his bedroom. I don’t want to speak at a meeting. He shook his head. But I don’t want to pass up an opportunity you’re giving me…What should I do, Lord?
Wayne sat down on the bed as Emily walked in. “Are you still trying to decide what to do?”
“Yes. Any suggestions?”
“Why don’t you call one of your friends in Miami?”
“Now, there’s an idea.” Wayne scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed the phone on the night stand. He pulled Mark Wallace’s card out of the top drawer and dialed the number.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Mark, how’s it going?”
“Wayne! It’s good to hear from you again. I just got back from the marina, and Carlita’s finishing up dinner. She’s making some of her famous tortillas.”
“Sound’s great. Wish I could join you. I bet it’s nice and warm there in Miami.”
“Ah, you wouldn’t like it. It’s been eighty-five and sunny. I’ve had to drive around with the windows open. But I’ll tell you what, we’ll share it with you. Just take the next plane out. We’ll hold dinner.” They both laughed. “But bring your wife and some others this time.”
“Sounds tempting.”
“How’s the job hunt going?”
“Oh, okay. Still working temp.”
“George? The Stones?”
“They’re all doing great. It’s been a blast learning to walk together.”
“Hey, did you guys ever hear back from David Trueblood?”
“No, but we didn’t leave an address on the note, and he may not feel comfortable enough to call. We’re just hoping he read it and took it to heart.” Wayne hesitated. “Mark, let me get to the real reason I called. I’ve been asked to speak at a home group meeting. I haven’t ‘spoken’ in a long time. And I kind of hate going back into that role, but we’ve been getting to know the leader of this home group, and he seems hungry and soft. So, I was hoping for some wisdom on how to view it.”
“Well, something we’ve found helpful is bringing other trusted brothers along. So, maybe George and the Stones could go with you. And as brothers, not ‘teachers,’ you could share some of what God has been teaching you together. Then God could use each of you in the measure and way He wants.”
“That’s a great idea. I bet Steve would go for that.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“You bet. Well, I won’t keep you from your dinner. Talk to you soon, bro. Good night.”
58
STEVE PARKER SWEPT the last of the cut grass off of the sidewalk just as the long blue sedan parked against the curb. It was the first time he had cut the grass since before winter. He was glad to do it, but hated to ruin his reputation as the best dandelion farmer in the neighborhood. He chuckled to himself, put the broom away, and walked toward his arriving guest. The tall, dark-suited Phil Malone walked briskly across the freshly-cut lawn, heading straight for Steve.
“Phil, you got my message. I’m glad you came.”
“Parker, are you crazy?” Phil stopped right in front of Steve’s face. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the last hour to find out what in the world you think you’re doing!”
“What do you mean, Phil?” Steve was puzzled at Phil’s tone.
“You’ve invited someone from outside of Metro to speak to your home group.”
“Well, that’s why I chose Tuesday night.” Steve was relieved as he thought he found the source of Phil’s dismay. “This way, it won’t disrupt the schedule.”
“But Steve—” Phil’s shoulders dropped as he explained, “it’s not the schedule. It’s bringing this guy in here at all. There are proper channels for doing this sort of thing. You’ve got to think! You’ve got to let those in positions of responsibility decide who should and should not be teaching the members. We need to stick to the curriculum we’ve laid out, so it will coincide with the Sunday celebration.” His words were calmer than his thoughts as he acquiesced to Steve’s naïveté. “Do you understand?”
Steve swallowed hard. “I think so. But I didn’t think it through at the time. It just seemed like a good idea. Like I said on your voice mail, I met these guys a few weeks back and we’ve had some good time together.” He gained some confidence. “Last week we were together over dinner for several hours and the time was excellent! I just wanted to share the good news with all the members of my home group and with you.” Steve was beaming. “Maybe I acted impulsively, but I was excited.”
“Good news? What are you talking about?”
Steve looked up across the lawn and saw a mini-van parking behind Phil’s car. “Looks like they’re here now. I’ll let them explain it.” Steve walked toward the mini-van as Ted, Carolyn, Wayne, Emily and George piled out.
Phil, still frustrated with the predicament, glanced at his watch. Betsy’s expecting me in thirty minutes. He let out an exasperated breath. I can’t leave now. He rolled his eyes. Parker! He shook his head and followed Steve toward the small group now on the sidewalk.
Phil politely shook each hand as Steve generously introduced him. The sandy-haired Wayne Davidson looked Phil in the eye and set him oddly at ease. Who is this guy? Phil wondered. For a moment, he was taken off guard by the warmth of the new arrivals. He checked his emotions and squinted. Be careful, Malone.
Dusk was setting in and Steve led the way toward the house just as headlights announced the next arrivals.
The house smelled wonderful. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of fresh-baked cookies. “Smells great!” Steve kissed Teresa on the cheek and snagged a cookie from the pan while it was still soft and hot enough to sting. “Mmmm.”
“I hope there’s enough of those for everyone,” Ted chuckled, accepting the cookie Teresa handed him. “Thanks.”
Phil talked with Wayne, inclined to like his open manner and direct speech, but instinctively wary of the potential threat. I still don’t like this. They found their way with the others into the living room and took seats on a long floral couch.
“So, you work for a book publisher?” Phil offered polite interest.
“It’s a temporary job. I’m not sure what God has in store for me beyond that.” Wayne felt at ease. “So, how about you? Do you find a minister’s life fulfilling?”
“Yeah. I do.” Phil nodded his head as he eyed the entrance, making careful note of each person who arrived. “It’s just what I’m cut out for.”
It was now 7:40 and, to Phil’s disappointment, the living room was full. Steve, who was sitting across the room from Phil, announced a song he wanted to sing and the room swelled with thanksgiving and worship.
Finally, Steve looked toward Wayne and Ted. “Well, guys, I guess it’s all yours.”
The three men exchanged glances, then Ted spoke up. “Hey Wayne, why don’t you mention the things we were talking about in the van?”
“Good idea,” Wayne replied. “On the way over here we were talking about how essential it is that everyone, from the least to the greatest, have a living, vibrant relationship with Jesus. There is no substitute for that.”
This is Steve’s revelation!? Phil snorted to himself. There’s nothing special about that. It’s elementary.
“I know this sounds elementary,” Wayne continued, grabbing Phil’s attention. “But, you’d be surprised how many people agree with that and understand it — yet still spend none of their lives cultivating an honest, open, real relationship with God.”
Phil felt a twinge, a spark — something inside of him he hadn’t felt for a long time. He temporarily surrendered to an urge to look inward. When was the last time I really did that? He remembered being nineteen, a freshman at Bible college. There was something fresh and alive about that time. It was a time when he had talked to God…Talked to God? Phil closed his eyes. This is strange. I haven’t thought about that for a long time.
His eyes shot open as he heard a deep voice nearby. He turned his face toward George, though his eyes darted around the room, making certain no one had thought him asleep.
“Something we’ve been learning,” George was saying, “is that Christianity is two-fold. First, it means Jesus has made a way for us to have a real relationship with God, as Wayne was saying. But it also means that Jesus has provided the context for us to have real relationships with each other. And, that’s the Church.
“In Acts 28:23, Paul made a clear distinction between the good news of the King and the good news of the Kingdom. Philip made that same distinction in Acts chapter eight.” George cleared his throat. “Most people have very little understanding of what the Gospel of the Kingdom is. Or, perhaps, they’ve just assumed it has to do with something off in the future, rather than something ‘now,’ as Paul said in Ephesians 3:10 or ‘at hand,’ as Jesus said. To most of us, ‘church’ has always been a thing we do, not a family we are a part of. It’s a meeting to ‘attend,’ not a Holy Civilization of people whose lives are intertwined with each other on a grass-roots level seven days a week.”
Seven days a week? Come on! That’s just in Acts two, and that was a temporary situation. Phil folded his arms and looked toward Steve.
“Listen to some of the descriptive phrases from the Scriptures,” Ted interjected, opening a small New Testament. “It’s all through the New Testament, not just in Acts two. Twenty years after Pentecost, the Church is described as:
‘Publicly and from house to house…’
‘Members of one another…’
‘The hand cannot say to the eye I have no need of you…’
‘Joined together by every supporting ligament…’
‘When one part suffers, they all suffer; when one part rejoices, the whole body rejoices.’”
Ted closed the Bible and leaned forward. “That’s not poetry. That’s real connectedness!! As Jesus promised, if we’ll lose our lives, we’ll have a ‘hundred mothers, brothers and sisters.’”
Bizarre! Phil relaxed his arms and stared intently at Ted. Are they reading my mind?
“How does the Hebrews writer instruct second-generation Christians to live?” Wayne asked. “Long after Pentecost, the writer commands believers to ‘encourage one another every day’ — which means that every single person should be engaged in heart level, side-by-side interaction every day! And the writer repeats himself to make sure we don’t skip over it. He said that if we wouldn’t live that way then we would be hardened and slowly tricked by sin.
“Try to catch the flavor of what I’m saying. It’s who we are. It’s not something we attend. The Redeemed are the Church. Fish live in schools, geese live in flocks, humans live in cities…and Christians — those who have truly been born from above — are meant to LIVE in real CHURCHES!! While ‘attending Church’ is common today, it is certainly not Biblical! How does one ‘attend’ family? How does one ‘attend’ life?
“Paul says that our lives are being built together to become a place where God comes to live. We are God’s House. The place where he lives. If our lives are being joined together.
“You see, it’s not about adding ‘home groups’ onto an existing structure of impersonal meetings, while our lives remain disconnected from one another. It’s about setting aside our worldly, self-centered priorities and giving our lives to each other instead of to our jobs, clubs, little leagues…”
Phil churned on the couch in an internal stalemate. His heart was drawn by the message of a vibrant, committed Church. But his mind fought back, challenging the practicalities.
Wayne caught a glimpse of Phil’s struggle as he scanned the room. “Oh, it’s so much easier to just add an informal home group so we can all feel good because some optional percentage of the membership talk to each other a little more than we used to.” He shook his head. “But please hear me. It falls so short of our God-given destiny.” He pleaded with his hands. “Don’t trade your birthright for a bowl of stew like Esau! Oh, what we could share together if we’d humble and empty ourselves!
“Picture in your minds what things could look like if we would only give our lives away. It’s so much bigger than we have ever imagined!! Most of us have not seen the reality of a whole Church functioning in, and defined only by, relationship with God and each other. But it is God’s Heart! We must not settle for less! God won’t! The Church is the very reason the planet was built — so that God could demonstrate to Heaven, hell, and Earth His incredible wisdom. That’s what Ephesians 3:10 says. Think about that for a minute. Think back on your Church experience of sitting in pews and listening to speeches. Could that really be all there is? Could that, really, be why the planet was made?! Certainly not. The Father wants to prepare a Bride for His Son!”
THE NEXT DAY, a maroon Toyota Celica cut a soggy trail down Grand Boulevard as Amy pulled a pink envelope from her coat pocket. Hope had already fallen asleep in the car seat next to her, thanks to the intermittent rhythm of the wipers and the constant whooshhhhh of the tires.
“Don’t you worry now, Hope,” she reassured the sleeping child. “God’s gonna take care of us — just the way He always has.”
Amy switched on the turn signal as she approached the subdivision. She looked down at the envelope again. With love, Mom and Dad. It was on time, as always. She couldn’t help smiling as she imagined her mother stuffing twelve envelopes with twelve different cards, enough for the whole year, in advance.
Amy was relieved to find her fears of being observed unfounded. The streets were perfectly empty. Pulling up to the curb, she set the parking brake and took a deep breath. “For You, Jesus.”
She reached into the card on her lap and drew out a $100 bill. Taking a plain white envelope from her purse, she quickly stuffed the money inside and sealed it. She swung open the car door, then turned back toward Hope.
“Stay there. Mommy will be right back.” Amy kissed her daughter on the cheek and jumped out of the car. Her boots, squishing in the evening drizzle, seemed unforgivably loud as she climbed the steps to the kitchen door. The envelope slid effortlessly under the door, and in an instant she was back with Hope.
59
GEORGE AND WAYNE sat quietly at George’s dining room table, waiting for Phil Malone’s arrival.
“Lord,” George said as he closed his eyes, “we don’t know why Phil wants to talk with us. We’re hoping some of the things shared last night have stirred his heart. Or perhaps…this will be an evening of heartache. Would You let that cup pass, Abba? Please give us Your wisdom and grace from heaven.”
The dull thud of a car door lifted his bowed head. “I guess he’s here.”
George turned on the entry light and opened the door. “Come in. Come in.” George shook Phil’s hand firmly as he stepped inside. “Good to see you again.”
“Thanks for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.”
“No problem at all,” Wayne said as the three converged in the brown-tiled entryway. He noted Phil’s patterned country club shirt and “Ping” cap. “Did you watch Norman’s win on Sunday?”
“At the Masters?” Phil answered as they walked toward the living room. “Yeah.”
“I watched the last of it with Ted. He finally won the major he wanted most.”
Phil gave a slight smile and shrugged. “He’s top caliber. It had to happen sooner or later.”
Seeing Phil’s solemnity, Wayne asked, “So…what’s on your mind?”
Phil took a seat on the fireplace hearth and wrestled inside, unaccustomed to vulnerability. “I guess…the reason I’m here is because of last night.” Phil rubbed his neck. “I felt challenged in a way I haven’t been for years. The things you said at Steve’s house had a ring of truth.” He wrinkled his forehead. “But I’m having trouble seeing how that approach could work at Metro. Maybe for you. Maybe for a living-room size group, but we have a few thousand members. How could we shut down the structure and just be a family? It doesn’t seem realistic.”
George and Wayne carefully considered their next words. The stakes were high. Metro was a large place, and they knew a lot of lives were on the line. Wayne began, “Phil, let me say how much I appreciate your heart in coming here. I know it was difficult.
“First of all, we weren’t speaking of an optional way to ‘have church’ or an alternative system. Secondly, as far as ‘shutting down the structure,’ I don’t think that’s the next step. If a person hasn’t walked in decades, you wouldn’t just take his wheelchair and crutches away — at least not all at once.” Wayne leaned forward and motioned with his hands. “If a man has become dependent on crutches, then he will need a time of ‘physical therapy.’ It’s not healthy to rip the wheelchair out from underneath him, but it’s even more unhealthy to just accept his wheelchair as part of life and do nothing about it. The goal is to make the man whole and not allow him to depend indefinitely on the crutches. There are some steps you can take right away that would please God and be a move in the right direction, but even the first steps of physical therapy can be painful.”
Phil nodded as Wayne carefully studied his eyes for clues. “It was never God’s intention that we, as His Body, become atrophied, dependent, and immobilized by the crutches we’ve invented. In most places, if you remove the structure, the congregation would disappear — because, in reality, it’s just a loose connection of people held together by a scaffolding of programs and personalities. Or, perhaps, it’s held together by convenience, comfort or habit. And sometimes, people are only there because of family ties and traditions.”
George sat up to interject. “Phil, what would happen if you announced this Sunday that you had sold the building, eliminated the programs, the Sunday school, the scheduled meetings, home groups, etc. — all of the trappings, none of which are even mentioned in the New Testament? They’re as unbiblical as rosary beads and purgatory.” George spoke slowly. “If you removed all of it, whatever you would have left is really all you have now.”
“I doubt there would be anything left if we did that at Metro,” Phil conceded slowly, with agony and reluctance. He genuinely felt as if he’d done a pretty fair job and was as sincere and God-fearing as any minister in town. He leaned his head against the fireplace stones and considered the implications.
The gravity was evident in Phil’s eyes. Wayne and George remembered that battle.
“We’re not trying to be harsh at all,” Wayne tempered. “We realize there are a lot of innocent lambs who are just caught in the machinery we inherited from our forefathers. But if we’re going to move forward, toward God’s true desire,” Wayne’s eyes pleaded, “then we must be firm in our convictions. If we view Sunday morning Christianity as an acceptable alternative — while we hope against hope that at least people are hearing the Word — we’ll end up dragging our feet forever under the guise of ‘being patient.’”
“Unfortunate but true,” George admitted. “It’s one thing to agree with a vision, but not know how to get there. It’s quite another thing to justify using the man-made props, considering ourselves exempt from God’s true plan and clear commandments. After ‘beginning in the Spirit’ in the church world, we have tried again and again to birth Isaac out of the womb of Hagar. All we’ll ever get out of our slick oratory, flashy presentations, gimmicky small group and worship techniques…is Ishmael — ‘the child born in the ordinary way’ — just like IBM or Amway would bear a ‘child.’” The look on Phil’s face caused George to pause. He guessed he’d struck a nerve. “If our convictions are firm,” he started again, “and based on the Word of God, then we might be able to temporarily use the present Sunday/Wednesday format as a means to reach people — without accepting it. But we’ll have to fight to keep a clear understanding that it’s not God’s heart and mind at all, and in fact creates obstacles to God’s Work. The same is true of male-bonding organizations, evangelistic organizations, music ministries, and other man-made institutions and professions. Good people, but the house is not the one God wants to build.”
This was almost too much. Phil wrestled inside, half wanting to blow this discussion off as heretical and get back to his life. His years of ‘ministry’ success and position had given him a lot of momentum in the wrong direction. But something stronger urged him to listen, to consider. Something rang of truth. “Is it really as cut-and-dry as all that? I mean, it’s a pretty heavy accusation to suggest that how all of the world practices Christianity is essentially wrong. How can you take such a clear-cut stand without coming across as arrogant and exclusive? Doesn’t it seem ‘holier-than-thou’ to act like you have the corner on the market of truth?”
“To be honest,” Wayne replied, “I don’t have it all sorted out.” He shook his head, half smiling. “I wake up some mornings and wonder if I’m crazy.”
“So, how do you resolve it?” Phil’s interest was piqued by Wayne’s transparency.
“Well, again, I don’t have all of it resolved, but I do have some touchstones I use for a sanity check. First, I go back to the inspired record of the first century Church and I ask myself: ‘Is the kind of Christianity recorded in the Scriptures — under the leadership of Jesus Himself and those He trained in person — an accurate picture of what I see around me?’ I don’t mean wearing togas and the cultural food and dress. I mean what was their priority system? What was life to them? What were the components of their days, according to the Scriptures? That simple test clears up a lot for me.” He looked to George, then back at Phil.
“Another test I use is one Jesus suggested when He said, ‘A tree is known by it’s fruit.’ When I see the ‘fruit’ of rebellious teenagers in droves, worldly men and women, little real spiritual relationship, and leaven throughout the batch — which is forbidden by God in any Church He would claim — again, I’m forced to draw the same conclusion.
“And, lastly, I’ve seen it for myself. I’ve visited Churches that function as a family — some of them quite large. But still they have no hierarchy, programs, gimmicks, devices, or cracks that people just fall through. And once you’ve seen it, you no longer feel the need to justify the impossibilities.”
Phil blew out a long breath. “What you’re saying…makes sense.” He sat up. “But how on earth can we turn the tide of all the centuries of…distortion?”
“Just like Luther did in his day,” George replied. “One day at a time and one life at a time — but the standard must never be lowered. Never! For Jesus, and for the lambs, we’ve got to risk everything!”
PHIL MALONE SIPPED his first cup of coffee the next morning, anticipating it’s needed help in beginning the day. Sleep had been hard to secure the night before. His thoughts had returned again and again to his conversation with Wayne and George. As was his morning routine, Phil isolated the sports section from the rest of the paper and began sifting through highlights and box scores.
He read the same opening sentence a third time: “NBA Western Division playoffs heat up as…” Finally he realized something was different this morning. The words he read seemed empty and hollow.
Has something changed? He felt a charge of excitement. Maybe I’m being silly. As he thought that, he eyed the bookshelf in the living room. He walked across the room, pulled his Bible from the shelf and returned to the breakfast nook. Setting the newspaper aside, he placed the Bible in front of him and opened it. It felt nostalgic, like driving through an old neighborhood he hadn’t been in for years. Everything still where it always had been, aged, yet familiar.
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness, O Lord.”
Is this a second chance? He stared through the window, taking mental inventory of his life. He now knew there had to be more than he was experiencing, though until two nights ago he had lost any sense that there was even something missing. Things had seemed pretty comfortable. He had a family, a good job, a big house with comfortable amenities. But now he’d been reawakened to that void.
Thundering footsteps descended the stairs, ending with a loud thud at the landing. Within seconds, Phil saw his oldest son foraging through the refrigerator in search of breakfast. Phil checked his watch, then addressed his son. “What time do you catch the bus?”
Startled, his son looked up, surprised to see his father home this late in the morning. “I don’t,” he responded with a hint of disrespect, then returned to his search.
“What do you mean you don’t? How do you get to school?”
His son hastily threw what he’d gathered into a plastic grocery bag and moved toward the front door. Two short blasts from an irritating car horn beckoned from outside.
“I ride to school with Kenny, Ricky and Toast.” He put his jacket on while holding his notebook between his knees and the plastic bag in his mouth.
“Toast? Who’s Toast?”
His son smiled mischievously as he opened the door and looked at his father’s concerned expression. “Eddie Sanchez. That’s what we call Eddie Sanchez.”
“Why?”
Two more horn blasts penetrated the house and sounded even more obnoxious through the open door. “Hurry up, Loner!”
Philip looked out the door and back to his father with a smile. “You don’t want to know, Dad. I gotta go.”
“No. Wait!” Phil stood up and reached out his arm. “Why do they…”
SLAM! The door closed with finality. As the tires gave a short screech, Phil walked over to the window. Blue-gray exhaust hovering in the air and two black tire marks on the white concrete driveway were the only evidence they had been there.
Phil tasted the other side of the bittersweet reality that had found him this morning. The investment he always intended to make in his son “someday” had been postponed for too many tomorrows. Is it too late, God? No, this is the chance You’re giving me to turn it around. Hope flickered in his heart.
60
IT WAS SATURDAY AFTERNOON and the Stones’ mini-van rounded the corner of the lot and pulled to a stop in one of the parking spots nearest the brightly lit sign: Mid-City Fun Bowl.
Ted cut the engine and looked over at Carolyn. “It looks like Steve and Teresa decided to come.”
Carolyn nodded. “Yep, that’s their car all right. I think that’s the same one she drove when we were in college.” She helped Marie out of the car seat while Ted gathered the wooden puzzle pieces Marie had dropped during the drive.
“Bye-bye,” Marie waved back into the open van as Carolyn set her down.
“No, Honey. Daddy’s coming with us. He’s getting your toys.” Carolyn took her daughter’s hand. Her little two-year-old was certainly growing up.
“Daddy go bye-bye.” This time Marie giggled, hugging her daddy’s leg as they made their way into the bowling alley.
Wayne saw them walk in and hurried over to the front door. “There you are. We just reserved three lanes side by side and it looks like they’re ready.”
The Stones rented their shoes and set out with the others for the lanes at the far end of the building. Carolyn had just sat down to change her shoes when Amy sat down beside her and pulled Marie into her lap. “Hi, Pebbles.”
Marie laughed and pulled at Amy’s cheek. “Hi, Maimee.”
“Pebbles? Where did that come from?” Carolyn quizzed as she tied her shoe. Amy shrugged. “She’s a little ‘Stone,’ right?”
Carolyn rolled her eyes and laughed. “Cute.” She slid her tennis shoes under her seat. “How was your time with Emily?”
“Good.” Amy tickled Marie under the arm. “I like talking with her.”
“I’m glad you offered to help out. How did Hope do?”
“Oh, she was a little fussy in the grocery store. But we managed. Amanda was quite the little helper.” She pointed to lane six where Amanda cuddled the squirmy Hope.
At lane seven, Wayne and his son, Blake, emerged from their ball hunt. As Blake deposited his spoil, Wayne walked up to his wife, who seemed entranced by the other bowlers.
“Hey, Em.” He sat down beside her. “Virginia has her children with her today, so I’d like Blake to bowl with you. He still idolizes her Tim a bit much and I don’t think he’s a good role model…at least not yet. I know it’s a little thing, but God’s House is built with wisdom. So I think it’s important we put some thought and prayer even into small things like that.”
“Sounds great. Believe it or not, I was considering that on the way over.” She paused. “I remember Carolyn showing me in the Scriptures that discernment is our inheritance.”
Wayne looked in his wife’s eyes. “Absolutely.” He smiled. “So, how about you bowling with Virginia and her daughter this time around? Will that work for you?”
Emily returned his smile. “Sounds fun.”
George was first in line on lane seven. He got up, hesitated to remember which foot to start with, then took three steps, sending the black and white ball down the center of the lane.
“Strike! Way to go, George!” Ted cheered from his post at the scoring table.
“That may be the only one,” George said as he took a seat next to Eric.
Tim Ramsey was next. He positioned his lanky, fifteen-year-old frame behind the far line. Then, awkwardly, he sent the ball sailing into the gutter. He turned back, embarrassed, as Ted got up to give him pointers while the ball cycled back.
Wayne smiled as he watched Tim and Ted from his seat. Things were definitely changing. Two years before, Tim had grown tired of his role as an “elder’s kid” and started looking elsewhere for his identity. Everything about him — his clothes, his language, his attitudes — betrayed a secret lifestyle away from home. It was something his parents, out of insecurity or perhaps pride, had chosen to ignore.
But things were different now. Tim was badly shaken when his dad was forced to resign and rumors began to circulate about the reasons. A new softness toward his mom spurred Virginia to seek help from Wayne and Emily. After many heart-to-heart conversations, as well as a few difficult situations, some good fruit was becoming evident. There were still reasons for being cautious, of course, but Wayne was glad for opportunities like today.
“You can be praying for him,” Wayne leaned over and whispered to Steve Parker. “We’re working hard to salvage his future.”
Steve nodded thoughtfully and watched as Tim prepared to throw his second ball.
Tim measured his steps and mechanically swung his arm as he tried to follow Ted’s advice. He unconsciously jumped as seven pins fell.
“Way to go, Tim,” Wayne rewarded from his seat. Steve applauded while Ted gave Tim a high-five. Tim couldn’t hold back his smile as he walked back to his seat.
“What do you say we young guys challenge these old fellows to some competition?” Eric slapped Tim on the back as he got up to take his own turn.
“Think you’re up to it?” George raised his eyebrows, pretending to take the challenge seriously.
Eric’s first ball sailed straight for the head-pin, but fell one pin short of a strike.
“They always glue that one down when I bowl,” Eric complained. “But you watch. I’ll get it. I’ve got a secret weapon.” He winked at Tim and shot George a playful grimace.
He lined up carefully, holding the ball up to his eye. He then sent the ball sailing straight at the lone pin to clinch the spare. Tim jumped out of his seat and offered Eric a hand in the air.
“All right,” George resigned. “Show them how it’s done, Ted.”
As the men battled it out, Teresa sat down in the seat that was back-to-back with Emily’s. “How’s Wayne’s job search going?” she asked, sitting sideways to be able to see her.
Emily laughed. “After a year, it’s kind of funny to still call it a job search.” She turned to face Teresa. “He’s still working temp jobs.”
“Are you able to manage all right without a steady income?”
Emily spoke softly. “It’s been hard at times. But God has been faithful to care for our needs. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve been up against the wall, and then at the last minute a refund check would arrive in the mail or the temporary service would call with a job offer. Recently, we were past due on the car insurance. Wayne had forgotten about it until late that evening, and we were exactly $100 short. We decided we would have to call George or Ted the next day and see if they could help us out.”
“What happened?”
“The next morning, without having said a word to anyone, we found an envelope that had been shoved under the kitchen door. Inside was a $100 bill.”
Teresa gasped. “Where did it come from?”
“I’m sure it was one of these guys,” Emily said, waving her arm toward the other two lanes.
Behind lane six, Amy was huddled on the floor with Amanda, Ashley and Marie, while Hope shared her smiles and babbles with the ladies waiting to bowl. The three girls giggled with delight as they pressed around Amy, each straining to see the brightly colored illustrations. This was one of Amy’s favorite books, a collection of short stories given to her by Carolyn on her birthday. It had been written primarily for children, but the lessons behind the stories were good for adults as well.
The reading was interrupted by loud screams and ecstatic cheering. Amy looked up to see everyone crowd into lane seven, congratulating Emily. A glance at the scoring monitor revealed she had just scored a spare and a strike in the last frame.
As Amy looked into each of the faces, a very special thought occurred to her. This is my family! It may not be “a hundred mothers, brothers, sisters” just yet, but Jesus’ promise is definitely true!
61
NO ONE ELSE is here yet. Good. Phil Malone felt a little awkward coming to Steve’s house to talk. He peeked tentatively into the window that overlooked the Parkers’ kitchen on his way to the front door. Looks quiet. Hope they’re home.
Reaching for the doorbell, he was startled as the door swung open.
“Hi, Phil. I thought I heard a car pull up. Come on in.” Steve pushed open the screen door and stood back to give Phil a clear path.
“Thanks. Did I interrupt your dinner?”
“Nope, we’re finished. But we’d have made room at the table. I was back in the bedroom, if you want to come on back.”
Steve led him back to a large bedroom, where several little piles of books were stacked on the floor.
“I was just cleaning out my bookcase. I’m almost finished. I didn’t realize you were coming to our home group this week.”
“Actually, I was hoping to talk with you before everyone got here.” Steve noticed Phil was carrying himself differently. Quiet. More measured. “Here, Phil, you can help me with the books. What’s on your mind?”
Phil bent down and grabbed a couple of textbooks. They were almost all on chemistry, Steve’s major in college.
“I had lunch with your buddy, Wayne, today.”
“Oh really?” Steve stopped putting books on the shelf and faced Phil.
“Yeah, we went to some Italian restaurant across town. It was a good time.” “What did you guys talk about?” Steve sat down. The books could wait.
“We talked some more about the nature of the Church — eye opening. I’ve just been so conditioned to read the Bible as if it were a story of someone far, far away — rather than God’s heart now.”
“You’re right,” Steve agreed. “Imagine the potential of this home group if we’ll apply the Word of God today and remain devoted to each other. Satan could be beaten up badly in a lot of lives! God could really use this home group in a big way!”
“Oh, it’s even bigger than this home group.” Phil was excited.
“What do you mean, Phil? What’s bigger?”
“I…I’m beginning to see that what I’ve built, what I’ve trained for, what I’ve worked for…might be something less than God desires.” Phil showed a hint of regret. “Maybe fixing and improving the organization we call ‘church’ isn’t what God wants. I see it as a much bigger issue than this home group or even Metro. It encompasses all of Christianity.” He laid down the books in his hand. “Has our whole way of thinking for the past nineteen hundred years been that far off track?”
“Wow, some lunch!”
“Some week!” Phil exclaimed. “I just hope I’m up for the task. It’s not an easy thing, being a leader. You can lose sight along the way of who you’re building for and what it is you’re building. I’m not sure I even understand what a ‘leader’ is anymore! Or what a Christian is, for that matter.”
“You’re right,” Steve responded. “But when we do see the standard, the high calling — we must respond. We must ‘buy the truth and sell it not.’”
Phil nodded contemplatively.
The chime on the living room clock rang. “It’s 7:30, we’d better get in there. Hey, Phil, would it be all right if, tonight, we leave the lesson plan…and try to let Jesus be in charge?”
Phil perked up. “Sounds great, Steve. I’m not sure what that will mean. But like your T-shirt says, ‘I’d rather die trying than to have never lived.’” With that, he clapped Steve on the back and they walked out of the room.
THE TIME TOGETHER began comfortably and spontaneously, though a little slow at first. A song was started, followed by another, then another. Phil Malone, normally fearful of spontaneity, found himself enjoying it. I don’t know why I thought this was so dangerous. He relaxed and joined in loudly.
As a song stopped, Steve Parker began to pray. “Father, we’re grateful to be Your children. Thank You for leading us, not only as individuals, but as a people when we’re gathered in Your name. Thank You for not leaving us as orphans. Please lead us now in the time we have together. Jesus, please be Lord of Your Church and Lord of each of our lives. Thank You so much! Amen.”
“Amen!” Steve’s prayer warmed the hearts of those present. Faith and expectancy filled the air.
“Phil and I were talking just a few minutes ago and thought we would leave the plan tonight and try to let Jesus lead us. We don’t want to be so committed to a prearranged way of doing things that we become insensitive to the things on your hearts and Jesus’ heart tonight. So, as Paul said in First Corinthians fourteen, if anyone has a song or a prayer or a word of instruction, feel free to speak up.” Steve looked around the room, anticipating something good. “And hey, if it seems awkward, maybe we all just need to get to know the real Jesus a bit better — the ‘meeting’ is no biggie.”
A man in his early forties, seated by the sliding glass door spoke up, looking only at Steve. “This morning I was reading ahead for what would have been tonight’s lesson, and I read a verse that I have a question about.”
“Okay, let’s look at it,” Steve responded eagerly. “Where is it?”
“Ephesians 2:10.” Fred nervously looked for the Scripture in his hardbound Bible. It took a few seconds before he began to read, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Steve waited for a few seconds. “What’s your question, Fred? Maybe someone here can help.”
“Well, it’s not so much the verse itself.” He closed his Bible. “I started thinking about what it meant and I got excited. I’m glad God has prepared work for us because I really do want to live for Him.” He hesitated again. “But I’m afraid, with all the junk in my life, I’ll never be able to hear His voice or be useful to Him.”
“What do you mean, Fred? What junk?”
“Well…” Fred swallowed hard. “I’ve been struggling for a long time with…anger. I blow up at the littlest things.” He shook his head. “I know it gets in the way of being useful to God. I’m sick of it and I need help!”
“Fred, let me set your mind at rest,” Phil began without hesitation. “The key to overcoming sin is simply appropriating the grace of God. Fred, you need to appropriate the grace of God. Don’t focus on your difficulties or your weaknesses. Look at God’s grace.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as Fred slowly shook his head with disappointment. Phil felt awkward, knowing he had missed the mark. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Words were unusually hard to find.
Fred’s head was still down as he broke the silence. “I know about God’s grace. I’ve thought of that again and again. Somehow, though, I’m still a slave. Paul said that sin won’t be my master…so, why is it?”
Across the room, a timid hand went up. It was Judy — shy, quiet Judy.
Steve acknowledged her hand. “Judy, did you want to say something?”
“Yes.” She opened her Bible, humbly but courageously looking Fred in the eye. “Fred, I don’t know if this will help, but I noticed a verse the other day in Titus that I don’t think I had ever read before. Would it be all right with everyone if I read it?”
Fred nodded his head. “Please.”
She cleared her voice. “It’s from Titus chapter two, verses eleven through fourteen.
For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope — the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for Himself a people that are His very own, eager to do what is good.”
She stopped, looked around for a minute, then started. “I always thought the grace of God was something to turn to for comfort after we’ve fallen into sin. And that’s true. But in this passage, it says the grace of God teaches us to say no to ungodliness. That means there’s something wrong with our understanding of the grace of God if it doesn’t teach us to say no to sin.”
STEVE AND TERESA WERE CLEANING up the room after everyone left. Teresa gathered napkins and cups while Steve rearranged the furniture and put away the folding chairs.
She closed the dishwasher and stood at the entrance to the living room. “What was wrong with Phil tonight? He seemed awfully quiet most of the evening.”
“Yeah.” Steve bumped the couch with his thigh, settling it into the familiar carpet impressions. “He just had a lot on his mind.” Steve straightened the cushions. “We had a wonderful conversation just before the meeting. With all the stuff God’s been shaking up inside him lately, I’m not surprised that he seemed a little mellow.”
“I don’t know…” Teresa didn’t move. “He still seemed… troubled.”
62
VIRGINIA RAMSEY COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time she felt so alive spiritually. Because of the faithful encouragement of Wayne and Emily Davidson, she’d been able to persevere through one of the most difficult times of her life.
It was Saturday morning. Virginia was sitting down at the dining room table finishing a cup of coffee and a list of prayer concerns she’d been entering into her journal. Taking her last sip of coffee, she wrote:
Pray for Phil Malone — Metro Chapel. Seems soft. Critical time.
“Ginny, do you know where my blue shirt is?” Hal’s voice came from the master bedroom.
“I’ll be there in a minute!” She quickly finished her note and sandwiched her pen in her journal.
“Ginny!”
“Coming!”
As if she wasn’t rushed enough, now the horn of Emily Davidson’s mini-van announced she was in the driveway to pick Virginia up for their shopping trip. She ran to the bedroom and frantically searched for Hal’s favorite blue shirt.
“BEEP-BEEP!”
Finding it, she handed it to Hal. “I’ll be back around two! Okay, Dear?”
“BEEP-BEEP!”
She grabbed her purse and darted out the front door.
Hal stared out the window as the van pulled out of the driveway.
63
SENIOR PASTOR NELSON REYNOLDS stood at the front of the auditorium, talking with one of his members. Steve, distracted from the conversation he was involved in, watched as Reynolds placed his hand on the lady’s forehead and prayed for her.
Steve turned back to his own conversation. He caught enough of the question to respond. “As I see it, that all depends on what the economy does. And I really don’t think that’s anything we’ll have to face until election year.” He glanced again in the direction of Reynolds, just in time to see the lady walk away.
Steve interrupted his fellow political theorist with a finger. “I…I really need to catch the pastor.”
“Pastor…Pastor Reynolds!” Steve called, running toward him.
“Hello Steve. Good to see your glowing face. How’s Teresa? I didn’t see her this morning.”
“She’s here, somewhere.” Steve scanned the large auditorium, then turned back to Reynolds. “I wanted to tell you about something exciting.”
“Oh, what’s that?” Reynolds glanced over Steve’s shoulder to the clock on the back wall and shifted his weight.
“At our home group meeting Thursday, we were talking about grace and—”
“Good topic,” Reynolds interrupted, then nodded for Steve to continue.
“Actually, it was the best meeting we’ve ever had. It was so different. It was like…Jesus was really there, teaching and guiding us — calling the shots Himself.” He saw Phil Malone approaching out of the corner of his eye. “Hey Phil, you tell him about the great time we had the other night.”
Oh no, Parker. What are you getting me into? “What night was that, Steve?” Phil asked politely.
“You know, the home group meeting at my house. I was just telling the pastor about it. Tell him what it’s like to really let Jesus lead.”
Phil Malone was unaccustomed to being caught off guard. He cloaked his emotions and was noticeably slow in answering. “Steve, I believe you’re referring to what we called an experiment. Bear in mind: not every experiment is a success. That’s the nature of experiments. They serve to test the waters and warn us of ways not to go.” He emphasized the words warn and not.
Steve was confused. He looked at Reynolds, then at Phil. Did I miss something? He looked again in both men’s faces, then directly at Phil. “Phil, don’t you remember the time together before the home group meeting…?” He was trying to be sensitive and protect Phil’s attempt to be vulnerable. “Do you remember…?”
Phil responded, “Oh, I remember. And I’ve considered the ideas you shared with me…”
Steve’s thoughts interrupted: I shared with you? I thought you shared with me!
“…and I think the place for leadership, guidance and preplanned teaching is still obvious. I’ll be the first to admit that ideas can come, at times, from the bottom up. And like I told you the other night, I’ll give some serious thought to the things you suggested. But, change takes time. And realize that not all change is for the good. It can lead to anarchy and damaged emotions. We do need to watch out for the sheep. Don’t you agree?”
Phil looked to Reynolds for a reaction. Steve creased his forehead and looked from one man to the other.
Reynolds saw his exit opportunity. “Gentlemen, it seems like you’re on track to working this out. Steve, thanks for your ideas and hard work with the home groups. If you men will excuse me, I need to see some other people.”
Phil watched Reynolds until he disappeared into the comforting crowd that lingered in the vestibule. He wished he could keep looking. He wished he could be lost in that same crowd. But he had to turn around. Seeing Steve’s face, he felt an ice cold chill run down his back.
Steve was speechless and confused. He stared into Phil’s face in disbelief. Phil stared back, trying to disguise his confusion and shame. “I’ve got to go.” With that, Phil turned and walked toward the vestibule, leaving Steve to collapse in a nearby pew.
PHIL REELED. What just happened? He walked aimlessly, weaving his way through the sea of departing members. Their faces were a hazy fog. Undefined. The noise of conversation became a dull roar behind his screaming thoughts.
Steve, why did you have to do that?! You don’t have to rattle off everything that’s on your mind. And in front of Nelson Reynolds! Don’t you realize there are consequences?
The effort of the stairs brought him back to his surroundings. His instincts had carried him to his office, to seek refuge from battle and to safely gather his thoughts.
On the way up the stairs, the thoughts hit again. None of this had been far from his mind since that meeting with Wayne and George. Okay, so we both have seen some things — some real things — that God has in mind for His Church. And I know you mean well — but things are just more complicated than that. I just can’t commit like that. I need more time!
Phil slammed his office door behind him as he flicked on the light, surprised at the turmoil swirling inside him. He sensed a fondness for Steve and a kindling friendship he had been unaware of until now. The pained disbelief in Steve’s eyes had brought it to light.
Steve, you’ve got to understand, you can’t change everything in a day. You tell Reynolds we’re changing everything…Do you know what it means? It means all my work…has been for nothing. You can’t expect me to do that!
He buried his face in his hands. There is more to it than sincerity and idealism. There’s effort. Planning. Leadership.
I want to do things God’s way, too. Phil breathed easier, almost convinced it was true. But does that mean I ignore seven years of Bible training? Turn my back on thousands of scholars and pastors and missionaries who’ve spent their lives for this? Am I supposed to pitch all of that so I can sit in a room and…and let Judy or Fred or whoever be in charge?! The pent up energy and tension peaked. He sat in silence. Even his racing thoughts had stilled. No emotion. Nothing. He sat there, staring at the bright, early afternoon sky.
“NO!” he shouted, slapping his desk with a force that sent his pencil holder toppling. “I’ve worked too hard and too long! I’ve come too far to see all of this handed over to a bunch of housewives and untrained, emotional laymen who want to throw their ideas around in a living room!”
His ears were ringing. He sat back, spent, breathing a sigh of utter relief and release. It was over. The struggle was finally over.
RRRRRRNNNNNNG
“Phil, call on line one.”
64
“WHAT ABOUT VIRGINIA?” Wayne called from the garage. “Did you call her?” Wayne tossed the remaining backpacks and the small beverage cooler into the back of the mini-van.
“Yes. She was thrilled.” Emily sealed the rest of the sandwiches in a Ziploc bag. “She asked if we could pick her up on our way to the park.”
The day was beautiful. The azure sky reminded Emily of the mountain lake where her family had vacationed when she was young. As they pulled out of the driveway, she handed sunglasses to the children, who tried them on in a flurry of giggling and teasing.
Wayne turned the air conditioning off and opened the windows. “Perfect day for a hike.”
The car rolled into Virginia Ramsey’s driveway, where she was waiting for them in a lawn chair. Emily got out and opened the van’s sliding door.
“Hop out, Blake. You can sit up front with your dad. I’ll stay back here and keep Virginia company.”
It was a half-hour drive to the state park. While Wayne recounted his teenage wilderness hike for Blake, Emily focused on Virginia.
“You’re sure quiet. Something on your mind?”
“It’s Hal.” Virginia wrinkled her face. “I get so frustrated.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, nothing new. It’s mostly my attitude about it all,” she admitted. “He can be demanding, and I find myself complaining in my heart when he asks me to do things for him.” She shook her head. “I just don’t feel any respect for him at all.”
Emily raised her eyebrows in concern. “I understand your situation and it is difficult…but, Virginia, there are many saints with unbelieving spouses. It’s not impossible.” She smiled. “You can treat your husband with respect, not necessarily because he’s earned it, but because you love God — and because that’s how God wants you to respond to Hal.”
Virginia looked out the window for several minutes, working through the implications. “Thanks, Emily. That helps.” She turned back. “I know that’s what Jesus wants.”
Passing through the gate, they found the Stones’ mini-van parked in front of the entrance to the trail. Just beyond it, Ted was tossing a football with Eric, while Amy and Carolyn sprayed their girls and themselves with insect repellent.
“Where’s George?” Wayne inquired.
“He went to find hiking sticks for the children.” Ted lobbed a spiral to Blake as he made an eager exit from the van. “He should be back any minute.”
Just then, George emerged from the woods carrying several long, stout rods. “What do you say we hit the trail now, and have lunch when we get back?” he suggested, handing Blake and Amanda their walking sticks.
“Sounds great,” Eric agreed.
“Yea! Yea!” the children shouted.
“I am concerned about the trail,” Wayne said. “It’s pretty long according to the map. Do you think the children will be all right?”
“They’ll be fine. If they get too tired, we could always carry them,” Ted suggested. “It wouldn’t hurt to make this a little more of a workout for us, you know.”
“ARE WE GETTING ANY CLOSER?” Wayne puffed. “I’m starting to get a little out of breath.”
“A little!” Ted chortled. “If your wheezing gets any louder, I’m gonna have to call 9-1-1.”
“What about you, Ted?” George chimed in. “Is that perspiration, or did you fall into that last stream?”
“I’ll tell you what: you carry Marie for the next mile. We’ll see how you look.”
“No, no. Looks like you’re doing just fine.”
“Don’t forget, George,” Wayne added, “I’ve seen you play racquetball.”
George laughed. “Okay. Okay.”
The ladies chuckled at the men’s teasing.
“Amy—” Carolyn reached up to steady Hope in her backpack, “are you holding up all right? I’m sure one of the guys would be happy to carry this little load.”
“Oh, thanks. I’m fine.” Amy launched up a small rocky incline. “It feels great to get the exercise.”
Emily watched Blake and Amanda skipping merrily ahead of the adults. Even Ashley, who was holding her hand, seemed undaunted by the rugged terrain. “Slow down, children. Wait up for your tired parents.”
65
THE OFFICE SEEMED deathly quiet. His torturous thoughts were silenced. He sat staring at the blinking red light on his telephone. Why don’t they give up? It continued to blink. Oh, all right!
He sat upright. “This is Phil Malone.”
He had no energy for this conversation. What is this guy talking about? “Warn me…about what?”
“Divisive? Heretics? Well, uh…” Phil positioned his finger over the phone, preparing to disconnect. “I think you have the wrong number…Yes…I know that name.” He relaxed his hand, letting it fall beside the phone. “You’re kidding! That’s a pretty serious accusation…you have what?” He leaned forward, listening intently. “No, actually, I’m not surprised. I’m very glad you told me.”
He tapped a pen on his desktop as he considered the caller’s request. “Get together? No, I can’t see any reason to do that. You’ve helped enough already…Oh…yes…I see what you mean…okay, I’ll see you then.”
