Resolve

1/6/1996

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.James 1:22

17

THE BELIEVERS IN Pine Ridge were gathered to share the highlights and concerns of their day. They did not gather for “services” or “sermons” but to renew their affirmation and commitment to each other. This particular night’s discussion had centered around First John and a challenging chapter about the cross by T. Austin-Sparks. After the discussion came to a close, they all held hands and spent some time worshiping together.

As the touching evening came to a close, everyone began bundling children and gathering belongings. They still managed to make it out the door by eleven o’clock.

It appeared no different than any other night they were together — except Carolyn felt strangely stirred. A peculiar dissatisfaction. Normally, she was encouraged by a night with the saints. What’s wrong? Why do I feel this way? Carolyn reflected on the time together, trying to find the source of her discomfort. No tension. Normal conversations. She recalled the familiar faces of her sisters. Why did I feel like a stranger…?

“Carolyn.” Ted placed his hand on his wife’s knee in an effort to get her attention. “Carolyn, we’re home.” It was a short drive and her thoughts were abruptly interrupted.

The evening routine of feeding Marie and preparing her for bed passed in silence as Carolyn continued sorting through her thoughts. Ted broke the silence as they climbed into bed. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Honey. Are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, I feel fine. I just have some things on my mind. That’s all.” Carolyn was still desperately trying to make sense of her thoughts and emotions and wasn’t sure what to share.

After a light kiss, they said good night, and Ted soon drifted off to sleep. Carolyn lay awake, trying to squelch the questions still spinning in her head. Unable to find peace, she quietly got out of bed and made her way to the living room floor.

“Father, help me understand. What is going on?” She pressed her face against the carpet, trying to communicate the dull ache in her heart — finding no words, only painful silence and inward groans. Several minutes later, she pushed herself up to her knees and struck the floor decisively. “There is something missing!

“There has to be more than teaching the children how to read and share their toys, cleaning homes, preparing meals together, reading a lot about being led by the Spirit…God, I’m not content with my life.”

She closed her eyes and sat quietly for a minute. Her life suddenly struck her as empty. Nowhere did she see anything from Heaven breaking through. It seemed so normal, so human. That’s it — it’s of the earth in every way. Nothing life-changing, nothing heart-wrenching, nothing freeing. I want to get past the earthliness and share the inside of my life with Susan, Marsha and the others! The pleasant, spiritual meetings and organic lifestyle are not enough! We’ve got to get inside of each other’s hearts! We’ve got to help each other walk with God and obey Him — not just have a ‘granola lifestyle’ about Him.

Carolyn began asking God what to do and how she could open up the curtain of her own heart with the people around her. And she meant it.

THERE WAS A FRESH BLANKET OF SNOW when Carolyn awoke the next morning. To her, the snow was a testimony that God was doing a new thing. With an energy she hadn’t felt in a long time, she set off for the Harts. Sisters regularly gathered there for coffee and some time together in the Scriptures. Carolyn was eager to be with everyone.

As people were piling in, Marsha was in the kitchen getting mugs, coffee, tea, doughnuts, cream and sugar all in line — just right for everyone. All the women were anxious to get to the hot coffee this cold morning. As everyone stood around talking about the latest household happenings, Carolyn tried to look each person in the eyes and really care about what they were saying. While she was a little uncomfortable, she could sense the renewing of her spirit. This is right. Something about this is right.

Carolyn wasn’t the only one excited about the day. This was the first big snow and the children did not want to miss it. After the last little hand was squeezed into its mitten, the ladies all smiled and let out a “Whew!” in unison as the door slammed shut.

“Does anyone know of a prayer need this morning?” Traditionally, this time together consisted of an hour of just simple prayer and intercession, some reading from the Scriptures, and a few songs. Even though they had been reading through Esther, Carolyn was hoping they could talk about the chapter that had been read the night before.

Carolyn tried hard to contain her excitement. “Did anyone look back over or think more about that chapter Brian read last night?”

“Not me,” Marsha explained. “I haven’t had a chance. I was busy cleaning and getting everything ready for this morning.”

“I thought what Brian read was really encouraging,” chimed in a sister leaning against the back wall. “Why, did something specific stick out to you, Carolyn?”

“Yes, very much so. I would describe it…more as challenging than encouraging. The part about truth-centered relationships rather than friendship-centered relationships, I found very convicting.”

“Yes,” Brian’s wife, Susan, spoke up. “Just think. All we used to do is sit in pews near each other once a week. I can’t imagine having to live like that again.” She took a careful sip of her hot coffee. “Once again, I am just in awe of how good God is to have delivered us from shallow relationships and brought us here to have real fellowship with one another.”

Carolyn’s heart sank deep within her. All the previous energy from the morning had evaporated, swallowed in confusion. She could hardly think, much less respond. As the others went on to read in Esther, Carolyn was stuck in that moment, trying to make sense of the last twenty-four hours.

Surely, we didn’t just exchange pews for living rooms. Is this all that there is? God, am I just making all this up in my head?…No, there’s just got to be more!

18

HIS HANDS FELT uncomfortably sticky against the leather steering wheel. Wayne wiped them on his pants and took a deep breath. He was absolutely positive he had never attempted anything this difficult in his entire life. He had been fasting all day, though unintentionally.

He pulled into the Ramseys’ driveway and was disappointed to see Hal’s car. It would have been fine with him to try another day. This kind of thing wasn’t covered in seminary. What pastor in his right mind wants to confront one of his own elders, one of the few that still likes him, about serious sin? He was well aware that this could blow up in his face. What about Hal’s marriage? Did his wife know? Was this just the tip of the iceberg?

He had stalled long enough. If he stayed in the car any longer, they would know something was up. He took a last deep breath, very slowly, and opened the car door. The trek across the yard to the front door passed more quickly than he had hoped. He wrung his hands one last time, trying to keep his sweaty palms from being too obvious. He rang the doorbell.

“Hey, Wayne, what brings you by on a Tuesday evening?” Hal’s voice sounded from the open doorway. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Well, I need to talk to you before you leave town…It’s kinda serious.”

Hal noted Wayne’s demeanor. “We could go to my study. It’s private.”

They quickly made their way through the living room and down the short hallway to the den. Virginia gave a quick glance toward Wayne and could tell he was not himself. As the door clicked shut, she went quickly back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.

“Well, hurry and tell me what’s on your mind before you pass out, boy,” Hal started.

“Hal, remember the football game Saturday?”

Hal gave a consenting nod.

“I’ll try to get right to the point. During the game, Ashley accidentally wandered into the back of your bedroom and got into your VCR tapes…Hal, I had no idea you had a problem with pornography. Why haven’t you said something? If it really is a stronghold for you, I want to help.”

For a split second, a strange tension hovered in the room. Hal blushed slightly, but quickly composed himself. An instant later, he let out a hearty but somewhat spurious laugh that caught Wayne completely off guard. Wayne was about to caution Hal that this was no laughing matter when Hal continued.

“What do you…Oh! I know what you’re referring to. Those weren’t pornographic tapes.”

“Huh, they weren’t?” Confusion clouded Wayne’s relief.

“No,” Hal reassured, “those were some cases I picked up at a flea market. I guess I should have removed the liners, but…I never really thought about it.”

Hal seemed so genuine. Could I have misjudged him? But those covers — could anyone be that naïve?

Wayne prayerfully considered his next move. “Hey, Hal, I’d like to believe you. I mean, I do believe you. But it would really help me to sleep better if I could just, maybe, look inside those cases.” His boldness surprised even himself.

“What would be the point? I told you, they’re just cases.” As Virginia quietly approached the door to see if she could offer some beverages, Hal continued. “Wayne, I know what it must look like to you.” His reddened face betrayed his true emotions. “But you’re just going to have to take my word for it — friend.”

Wayne paused and internally asked God for the courage to push one more time. “Hal, I’m not trying to be obnoxious. I really do care about you. And I really want to be wrong about this thing. If you could just show me…”

Now Hal stood up, glaring at the still-seated Wayne. His intimidating voice blared. “Wayne, are you calling me a liar? This is my house! I don’t have to put up with this kind of harassment!” Hal put his finger in Wayne’s face. “You may be the pastor, but that doesn’t give you the right to go flinging accusations around.”

Wayne tried to soothe Hal’s temper. “I just thought…”

“You think too much! You need to get your imagination under control, Wayne. What have you been feeding your mind that you would assume I am involved in pornography? Maybe you’re the one with the pornography problem and you’re just pushing it off on me! Well, I don’t have to put up with this!”

Virginia slipped quietly away from the door.

Wayne sat in stunned silence, wishing he were anywhere but there. He wished he knew what to say to make everything right again. This was not what he had envisioned.

Hal opened the door and gestured, “Wayne, perhaps you ought to leave now, while we’re still friends.”

Wayne looked up, bruised, wanting to apologize, but not sure why or if he should. He walked slowly out of the den and down the hall to the front door. The air around him felt thick, and the noise echoed as if he were in a tunnel. As Wayne opened the front door, the sound of traffic seemed dream-like. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. As he stepped out of Hal’s house, he thought he heard the sound of a woman crying.

EMILY BEGAN QUICKLY changing the sweat-dampened linens, hoping they could still salvage the rest of their night’s sleep.

The dream had come again. This was the seventh and most vivid time. Wayne still trembled as he relayed to Emily this episode’s most recent details. With the wet sheets in the hamper, she paused from her work and sat down by Wayne as he continued.

“Em, this time the dream ended at Judgment Day. I had to give an account for Hal, for Tom, for John Carley. And Jesus was just standing there…standing right in front of me.” Wayne suffered as he nervously related the details to his wife. “I always knew I would give an account for everything I taught, and I’ve tried to be faithful and accurate with the Word of God…But I had no idea I would have to give an account for the spiritual condition of everyone at Hampton Street!”

Emily wasn’t sure what to say. “Just be glad it was only a dream,” she consoled. But as the words left her lips, they felt empty and hollow. Was it really just a dream? Seven times he’d been assailed by vivid images challenging his work at Hampton. She wondered if she’d been so dull that she hadn’t recognized God’s thumbprint.

As she tucked in new sheets, she recalled how fresh her walk with God seemed before she married Wayne. Every day seemed to be an adventure in faith. “What will God do today?” she would wonder.

When did things change? She and Wayne had intended to change the world, to do great things for God. At one time they had seriously considered joining a mission team going to Africa. Maybe she’d let herself become too distracted by the children, by the mundane responsibilities of motherhood. Or maybe she hadn’t understood God very well. Who knows?

RRRRING!

What’s that? Already morning? Wayne hit the top of the alarm clock. The ringing persisted. Telephone. He reached for the receiver.

“Hello.” Wayne’s froggy voice revealed his slow morning start.

“Oh, hello, Wayne. This is Virginia Ramsey. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, no. That’s okay. I was going to get up.” Wayne looked at the clock. 8:38.

“Um…” Virginia stammered for words. “Oh, you left your jacket here yesterday. And I thought I’d…let you know that.”

“Are you okay, Virginia?”

“Yes. I just wanted to thank you for coming over yesterday.”

Wayne’s mind raced wildly. Why would she…Did she hear…But why?…Oh, the crying! “Virginia, when I left yesterday, were you crying?” His heart burned as he waited for Virginia to break the silence.

“Uh-huh.”

“You heard us talking?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you know what we were talking about?”

“I think I do.” She paused for a moment, then conceded with a sigh, “About the videos.”

“Then it’s true?”

“Yes,” she said softly, the pain now coming through her voice. She proceeded to tell Wayne the whole sordid history through muffled sobs. It was worse than Wayne had imagined, and he felt incensed as he recalled how Hal had so sincerely defended himself.

“I want you to know we’re with you. We want both you and Hal to make it, with each other and with Jesus. We really do.”

“Oh, Wayne,” she tearfully interrupted, “maybe it’s too late for us. Maybe I should just give up. What about the children?” She was sobbing again and losing her coherency.

“Virginia, get a hold of yourself,” Wayne calmed. “I know it’s painful and, honestly, I don’t know how everything will turn out. But I can promise you this: if you will commit to doing things Jesus’ way, and trust Him, He will honor that and bless you.”

“I’ll try. But I may need help.”

“We’ll help you, Virginia. We’ll help you all the way.”

19

BACK ON CAMPUS, the students were packing up their books as Professor Archer gathered the remaining test papers.

“One down, three to go,” the professor said under his breath. “Monday’s finals are always the most difficult.” Professor Archer noticed a familiar ache in his heart. He longed for the truths he shared with his students to penetrate past their minds and into their hearts.

His thoughts were interrupted when another professor stuck his head into the room and cleared his throat. “George, have you seen Rick today?”

“Wasn’t he just taking a Greek final?”

“He never showed up.”

“That’s odd. Maybe he’s sick.”

“I would have thought he would have at least called me.” The Greek professor shrugged. “Maybe he overslept.”

LOUD SCREAMS echoed from behind a door plastered with posters. The entire building seemed to rock on its foundation. The deafening blast from the speakers, left-over fragments of fire crackers and empty shaving cream cans left no doubt — this was either the scene of some major disaster or finals week had arrived.

Has dorm life changed so much…or have I? Professor Archer walked around a stack of pizza boxes.

“Professor Archer! Uh…hi! Didn’t expect to see you here.” One of his students passed by, obviously hiding something in his hand.

“I’m looking for Rick,” the professor shot back.

“I haven’t seen him lately, Professor. But that’s his room down there. Last one on the left.”

Professor Archer swallowed hard as he approached the open door. It was odd for Rick to miss his Greek final, and the professor had been puzzled. But when he also missed his Old Testament final on Tuesday, it was time to find out what was going on.

He knocked lightly on the open door, scanning the room for signs of life. The two beds had been stacked in an effort to make the small room livable. The bottom bunk revealed a bare mattress, though the bookshelves nearest it bulged with Greek lexicons and Bible commentaries — evidence of Rick. A large poster of a lion and a lamb hung on the wall beside the bed.

“Professor Archer!” Eric was startled as he looked up from the sink.

“I was hoping I might find Rick here,” the professor began.

Eric rinsed the remaining toothpaste from his mouth. “No, Sir, he’s been gone for three days.”

“Three days?!”

“Yes, Sir. I came back to the room Saturday afternoon and all of his clothes were gone. I don’t know what happened.”

“Have you called his house?”

“Yeah. I tried three times…no answer.”

“Did you notify the school?” Professor Archer raised his voice.

Eric was taken aback by the professor’s tone. He hung his head. “You know Rick. He’s real strong. I figured he knew what he was doing. He’ll be okay.”

“Maybe,” the professor said calmly. “But strong or not, he might need our help.”

“How about Amy?” Eric asked. “Maybe she knows something.”

“She wasn’t in. I left a message.” The professor studied the room, thoughtfully. “Eric, can I have Rick’s home number?”

SEVERAL STATES AWAY, the aroma of roast beef mingled with pumpkin pie filled the Adams residence. White linen covered the long dining room table that was normally reserved for company. Home-baked bread and tossed salad were plentiful. Tall, white candles adorned the centerpiece and cast a warm glow on the room. Sarge, the family collie, barely managed to restrain himself as he waited for precious morsels to fall from the table.

Long after the family had finished offering thanks, Mrs. Adams’ head was still bowed.

“He’s going to be fine.” Mr. Adams took his wife’s hand and held it gently. His words were sincere, but she didn’t feel like being comforted.

“I thought surely his favorite meal would have lured him out of that room.” Rick’s mom glanced toward the empty chair. “He’s hardly come out at all in the four days he’s been home.”

“I know. It’s just not like our son to keep secrets from us,” Mr. Adams replied. “Tell you what — I’m planning on talking to him this evening. Maybe he’ll open up a bit when it’s just the two of us.” He looked up and smiled. “But for now, I think I’ll have some of those wonderful mashed potatoes that you worked so hard on. Could you pass them this way, Sweetheart?”

Everyone was a little startled when the telephone rang. “It’s for me!” Rick’s younger sister called out behind her as she rescued the phone from a second ring. She reappeared a few moments later, disappointed. “It’s for you, Dad.”

Mr. Adams lifted the receiver, half expecting to hear a sales pitch for storm doors and windows. “Hello,” he said cautiously.

“Hello, Mr. Adams.” Professor Archer’s heart was pounding with anticipation. “My name is George Archer. I’m one of Rick’s professors. I believe we met briefly during homecoming.”

“Professor Archer! Why, yes. Rick has always spoken very highly of you.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Is this a bad time?”

“No, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you called! You’ve had a tremendous impact on Rick’s life, and I know he has a great deal of respect for you.”

“I’ve been rather concerned about Rick.” The professor proceeded cautiously. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m not sure I know the answer to that.” Rick’s father sighed as the weight of their dilemma pressed him. “Professor Archer, to be honest, I’m very worried. Would you speak with him? He trusts you, and I think he might listen to you.”

“Sure. I’d like to do that.”

Without waiting for the answer, Mr. Adams had already sent his wife upstairs to get Rick. As Professor Archer waited, he carefully considered his next words. He was uncertain how to approach this.

Rick’s mom returned, visibly shaken.

“Honey! Are you all right?” Dropping the phone, Mr. Adams moved quickly to meet her. After several moments, he returned. “I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know what to say. Rick’s never been like this.”

“Is something wrong, Mr. Adams?”

“I’m sorry. He refuses to speak to you. In fact, he said he never wants to see or hear from you again. Forgive me, I…”

“Perhaps I should call back later?”

“Well, I think you might want to give him some time. He’s pretty upset. But would you pray for him?”

20

AS WAYNE PARKED at Hampton Street Bible Church, the night sky bore an eerie resemblance to the one he’d been witnessing in his haunting dream.

He had felt this coming for three weeks, ever since the incident with Hal. Only two days earlier, he had warned Emily, bracing her for their uncertain future. And now, that morning’s phone call. No surprise. “The elders would like to meet with you tonight, Wayne. 8:00 sharp.”

Hal’s car was in the lot, along with everyone else’s. It was now ten minutes before eight and everyone was early. As he opened the door, he could hear deep voices in the first classroom to the right. The closing door announced his arrival with a hollow boom, and the conversation subsided.

As he entered the room, some eyes darted nervously as if ashamed of participating in the proceedings. Others looked stone-faced, seeking to make eye contact with Wayne. Among the latter group was Tom, who broke the silence.

“Hi, Wayne,” he said pleasantly. “Please have a seat,” he invited with a gesture of his hand. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

Wayne sat in the chair that was prepared for him.

“Wayne,” Tom sighed heavily, “we felt that it was in the congregation’s best interest that we get together and have a talk.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

Tom was surprised by Wayne’s frankness and snickered nervously. “Well, no, not exactly, Wayne. We just need to discuss some…concerns that we have—and that others in the congregation have, too.”

“What kind of concerns?” Wayne asked soberly. His directness was setting the tone for the meeting.

As two or three of the elders shifted nervously, Tom pulled his trump card. “Wayne, as you’re aware, your annual review is in eight weeks. We’ve appreciated the fine preaching you’ve provided for our congregation over the past eight years. However, the tone of your messages, of late, has taken a direction that we feel may not be right for Hampton. Wayne, there’s a hardness to them, an edge that we feel isn’t really…healthy.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. My messages come straight from the Bible. Now I realize that I have deviated some from the syllabus, and I may have upset Katie Beuford. However—”

“Wayne, its not Katie. We just feel—”

“We think you’re coming across too harsh,” another elder clarified.

“Can you give me some examples?” Wayne challenged.

There was a long silence with glances electing who would answer Wayne’s challenge. Finally, Tom spoke again. “Wayne, it’s kind of difficult for us to put our finger on some specific statement you’ve made in your sermons. It’s more of an attitude that comes across.”

“An attitude,” Wayne said dryly. “But you can’t give me an example.”

Tom had his prey. “Well, Wayne,” he began with feigned cautiousness, “you came across pretty judgmentally concerning my son, practically implying he isn’t a Christian.”

“Tom, that’s not really—”

Now Hal interrupted, “You know, something very similar happened to me before my business trip. Wayne barged into my home and made some pretty bold accusations before getting his facts straight.”

Wayne was shocked at Hal’s arrogant audacity. He wanted to scream, yet somehow he managed to address Hal with composure. “Hal, before we continue, could I speak with you outside for a few minutes?”

“No,” Hal said boldly, “you’re not going to corner me again. This time if you’ve got something to say, I want some witnesses.”

Witnesses. Now, there’s an idea. Jesus did say if you spoke with someone about their sin and they wouldn’t hear you that you should bring in other witnesses. Maybe Hal was right. Maybe he should say everything in front of all of these men. Because Wayne still hoped to speak with Hal one on one, he decided to try once more.

“Hal, I really think it would be better if we could speak alone in the hall, just for a moment.”

“NO WAY!” Hal shouted. “I’ll tell you guys what he is driving at. Our nosey pastor accused me of having pornography in my house. Well, I’ll not be bullied! I’m not afraid of these men knowing what you have to say. They’ve all known me for years, and my character speaks for itself. So if you have anything to say, say it here and now.”

“Hal,” Wayne began slowly, “your wife called me in tears and confirmed everything. You’ve been living a lie for quite some time, and she can’t handle it anymore. She was so relieved for someone to know.”

Hal looked like a punctured inner tube. His jaw hung frozen open, and his face flushed. Everyone stared at the table in silence.

Finally, Hal slid his chair back and briskly left the room.

After sorting through some difficult details, the meeting ended as uncomfortably as it had begun. Gil was assigned to advise Hal to step down from the eldership and to keep things as quiet as possible.

The elders concluded that none of this was to leave the room. They would deal with their problems like they always had — secretly.

Things were still awkward with Wayne. He was right about Hal. It was undeniable. Still, in their minds, Wayne was the “bad guy.” They wanted a church that was inspiring, yet comfortable. A place with close friends, but where people had the good sense to not meddle where they didn’t belong.

Wayne could read the handwriting on the wall tonight as clearly as Daniel had centuries earlier. He knew his days were numbered. It’s fine to hold up a theoretical standard, but the direct application of that standard to individual lives was, in reality, unwelcome.

Wayne knew a line had been crossed. He wasn’t just playing church anymore. Either Jesus was Lord of the lives of the members, or it was a sham. And Wayne was more committed than ever to ending the charade — life by life — and calling men to honest reality before God.

If he was going to answer to God for their souls, then he was going to have to get personal with the Word of God and use it for exhortation, rebuke, correction, and training in righteousness — exactly as God commanded him. No longer was he just content to preach sermons and to teach men about God, he was now committed to call everyone that wore the name of Jesus to obey Him!

“HELLO.” Virginia Ramsey grabbed the telephone as she wiped flour on her apron.

“Hi, Virginia. This is Wayne. I just wanted to check and see how you’re doing today.” Wayne paused before continuing carefully. “So…how did it go last night?”

“Well, it was sort of strange,” she answered, wrinkling her brow. “I would have expected Hal to be very angry with me. But, instead, he was withdrawn and quiet. Like all the life and energy had been drained out of him. The house was very still all night.”

“So, he didn’t seem angry at all?” Wayne asked, puzzled.

“He wasn’t happy, that’s for sure. But he said so little, it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking.” She hesitated. Swallowing hard, she guarded her fragile emotions. “It’s obvious he’s bitter…but I’m not sure he cares anymore. I’m worried about him.”

“I’ve been hoping and praying you wouldn’t have to take the brunt of all this,” Wayne explained. “I’m sorry—”

“Oh no, Wayne,” Virginia cried out. “I’m grateful! For years I’ve been miserable. Just hiding his sin was destroying me. Maybe I never should have hidden it. Jesus commanded us to bring in other brothers and sisters when necessary. I see now that marriage isn’t an excuse to disobey Him. I’m so thankful things are out in the open. I don’t feel like I’m living in Achan’s tent anymore. Things may seem messy on the outside, but I haven’t felt this free on the inside in a long, long time.”

21

THE UPSTAIRS CLASSROOM was quiet. The window blinds were opened high and the bright mid-afternoon sun masked the December coolness outside. Professor Archer sat behind the large oak desk at the front of the room, grading the exams he had given two hours earlier. Finals were now over. For students and faculty alike, relief had come. Most of the students had scattered for home to recuperate. In three weeks, it would be business as usual once again — for most.

The professor let his pencil drop as he breathed a long sigh.

“Why?!!” It was more of a groan than a word. He sat with his face buried in his hands for a few moments. Quietly, he drifted, lost in his own questions.

Finally, he shook his head with vigor, as if to clear cobwebs. He gathered his scattered emotions and set back to the work before him.

Six more to go. The task had been tedious. Twenty-one students in the last class. Seventy-five short essay questions. Not easy work! He’d often mused that the hieroglyphics course he had passed up would have helped him with some of the handwriting. As he mulled over the answer to question 37, a familiar face passed his open door.

“Amy!…Wait!” Professor Archer rose and moved briskly toward the hallway. By the time he reached the door, she was already to the top of the stairs with her hand on the banister, ready to disappear.

“Amy!” His voice stopped her. “I’d really like to talk to you — just for a minute.”

She froze in indecision.

He walked toward her. “I tried to call Rick last night. He wouldn’t come to the phone. Amy, what’s going on?”

Her head dropped. She fought the urge to run down the stairs, afraid to face the consequences of turning around.

The silence was awkward. Finally, she relented and turned slowly to face Professor Archer. “Sorry I’ve avoided your calls, Mr. Archer.” She lifted her gaze slightly. “It’s been a rough week…Rick won’t talk to me, either.”

He offered a forgiving smile. “I understand. I’m sure this has been hard. Could we talk?” He motioned toward the classroom with his head.

Amy took a deep breath, then resigned. “Sure.”

Once inside the classroom, she found a student desk, rested her chin on the backpack she had been hugging, and closed her eyes.

Professor Archer pulled his chair out and sat down beside his desk. He leaned forward. Both were stuck for a moment in their own pain, their own feelings of rejection. This hadn’t been easy for either of them. The professor broke the silence. Slowly. Sensitively. “Do you know…surely you must know…what happened?”

“Yes, I do know,” she started softly, holding tightly the purse strings of her heart. “He…kind of gave up.” She looked up at the professor. “He feels like a failure, like he’s let everyone down.”

“Let everyone down? Why would he feel that way? I’ve never known him to be like that.”

She sighed. “Something…happened. He felt all responsible and left.” Amy closed her eyes again.

“What happened?”

She closed her eyes tighter, battling between the pressure to say more and the urge to run out the door in tears.

The professor noticed her pain and offered gently, “I’m sorry. I know it must hurt. But maybe I can help. Can you tell me what happened?”

Her heart began racing wildly. She knew what she needed to say, but the secrets of the pain she held had not been heard by human ears…other than Rick’s.

She opened her mouth. A stutter, then silence. She breathed a determined sigh and continued almost inaudibly. The professor leaned toward her as she whispered, “I’m…I’m pregnant.” She was almost in tears. She didn’t look at the professor, afraid of what his expression would do to her.

Finding strength, she continued. “I found out last Thursday. Then I told Rick. It didn’t go well. He got angry and then depressed. We talked, but he was confused and upset.”

Her confidence faltered, the pain obvious. She stared at the floor in silence. Regaining some of her strength, she continued through trembling lips. “The next morning, he called me and said he was leaving. He said he couldn’t face the failure. He kept saying he was ashamed. He told me he was sorry, but that he just couldn’t face it all. I know a lot of it had to do with feeling he’d let everyone down. He believed his career and all he’d dreamed of were gone.”

She let out a long breath. There! She’d done it. Somehow it really did feel better for someone else to know. She wished Rick could know the same solace.

The professor closed his eyes as he allowed Amy’s words to sink in. He was shocked Rick had given in to sin, but something else was still bugging him, something he couldn’t quite identify. He’d had other students make poor choices, even costly ones. But this seemed different.

Finally, he formed the one question he couldn’t help but ask. “Why didn’t he come talk to me?” As he asked, the professor was torn between self-pity and genuine confusion.

“He did try,” she said gently. “He talked to you one day in the cafeteria. He told me about it. He tried to get in to see the campus minister, too. That didn’t work out either.”

Professor Archer remembered. How did I miss it? He tried to remember Rick’s words. Why was I so naïve? At that moment, he felt the bite of his own failure.

He shook free from his introspection, remembering that Amy was in the room. He could deal with himself later. Right now, there was a troubled girl, an abandoned mother, in need of answers.

“Amy…I realize this may not sound particularly helpful right now. But I do believe it’s absolutely important that you let your parents know about this very soon.” The words were slow and deliberate. “Or have you already told them?”

Amy wasn’t shocked by his words. The fact that she’d wrestled with that imminent conversation seemed apparent as she answered. “I know…but I can’t.” Her answer wasn’t flippant. She calculated again in her mind the conversation she envisioned. She shuddered. Hadn’t her parents always told her to come to them for help? Weren’t they Christians? Why did she feel so uncomfortable at the thought?

“It won’t be easy. I’m not sure how to even recommend you go about it. But I do think it’s really important that they find out, soon, from you.”

Amy nodded assent, though it was more an acknowledgment of fate than a commitment to action.

“Please let me know if I can help.” The words sounded hollow. They rang of the trained professor and not the broken man he was becoming.

She thanked him quietly and left the classroom.

He put his head in his hands and let go the reins of his heart.

GEORGE ARCHER LIVED in a two-bedroom ranch home within walking distance of the campus. It had seemed pointless to stay in his northside home after leukemia had taken his wife seven years earlier. Too many painful memories. So, after moving, he buried himself in his studies. To George, those studies were meant to be an investment in his students. Instead, they had served to shelter him from vulnerability. But that was changing.

Today, he sat crumpled in the floor of his study. It had been three hours since he and Amy had talked. He replayed in his mind the conversations he’d had with Rick, words he could have spoken, help he could have offered.

God, how could I have been so blind? he prayed. Was I so caught up in my own agenda for his life that I didn’t notice the war going on inside his heart? George was feeling a kind of pain he’d never known. Yes, Rick’s leaving had hurt. But the greater pain was knowing he could have prevented it.

Father, it wasn’t the campus minister’s fault. It was my fault. Tears began to slowly trickle down his face. Father…please forgive me. I have been careless and unfaithful with a precious child of yours. “I’m so sorry.” He stayed there with his face in his hands, saying nothing.

Spent, George lifted himself off the floor and sank wearily into his desk chair. He still had more questions than answers as he turned to face his Bible, still open from that morning.

His eyes caught a phrase in Hebrews 3: “Sin’s deceitfulness.”

Boy, if that doesn’t describe what happened to Rick, I don’t know what does.

As George thought about the whole situation with Rick, he felt a surge of anger in his heart. He was angry, knowing the deceiver had maimed yet another one of God’s lambs through his lying tactics. Lord, does it have to be this way? Surely, there must be a way to keep this from happening. He looked again at the worn page, hoping for an answer.

“Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.” What?! He read it again, hoping he hadn’t missed something. That’s what it says! Sin’s deceitfulness can be prevented! Truth illuminated his heart.

Could obedience to one simple command really help keep people — people he loved — from being deceived and hardened by sin? It says it right here. He answered his own question, thumping the page. The Holy Spirit did write that verse, he reasoned. George’s heart began to surge with excitement and hope — hope that his efforts to care didn’t have to be forever subject to arbitrary failure.

As he sat and thanked God for opening up the Scripture to him, a torrent of other verses poured into his mind: “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love…Let us encourage one another…admonish one another DAILY…From Him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work…Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed…Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

He wondered if he had ever seen these verses before as he flipped from passage to passage, just to make sure they were really there. He had seen them. Many times. Today, though, circumstances brought them to life.

George winced at the implications. If we fulfill the law of Christ by carrying each other’s burdens, and if true fellowship one with another has to do with “walking in the light” together and “confessing sins”…what in the world have we been doing all this time? Worship services, potluck meals, and Bible classes haven’t done the job. Confused, George stood up and slowly paced the room. He’d always thought the Church needed revival. Now, he was beginning to wonder if the whole foundation was wrong. Had it been built on knowing about a historic Jesus and doctrines, rather than on obeying a living Jesus?

“Yes!” He slapped his palm against the desktop. “Perhaps it can’t be fixed by new and improved programs. The problem is foundational. A house built on sand needs more than a paint job. It needs to be rebuilt!”