Seeds and Fruit

1/6/1996

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.Galatians 6:7-8

80

THOUGH IT HAD BEEN THREE WEEKS since Steve Parker’s last conversation with Fred, the wounds were still tender and Steve was still frequently tempted to hide inside himself. The choices he had made over those same weeks, however, demonstrated a Godly confidence and a desire to go on caring for others, regardless of his weakness and pain. Despite his wounds and temptations, he was pursuing the Life of the Body of Christ — the best he knew how. On this particular day, for example, he had eagerly embraced Teresa’s suggestion to invite some saints over for dessert. He had been excited all afternoon by the prospects of his growing relationships, and was eagerly anticipating the evening.

And now, armed with a small plate of cheesecake and a soda, he made his way toward the hum of conversation coming from his living room.

He was barely out of the dining room when Ashley Davidson scurried past him, roughly brushing his leg. He caught his balance quickly, saved the teetering fork, then stepped against a kitchen cabinet just in time to clear the path for little Marie Stone. He laughed to himself as he watched after the dark-haired Marie, warmth filling his heart. Precious freedom!

At the entrance to the living room, he leaned against the wall and took his first bite. Though the room wasn’t as full as it had often been on Thursday nights — it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was warm and, to him, a breath of fresh air. Thanks a lot, Jesus.

“Hey, Steve, thanks for having us over.”

Steve turned and smiled warmly at Eric, who stood beside him palming three peanut butter cookies in his left hand and holding a fourth, poised near his mouth, in his right.

“You’re more than welcome, Eric. But be careful not to kill yourself with all that sugar,” Steve lectured mockingly with his fork. “I’d hate for your first time at my house to make you sick. You might not want to come back.”

“Not a chance of that. I’d come back.” Eric took a bite of his cookie, then continued as he chewed, “Besides, I’ve got plenty of carbohydrates in me to dilute the sugar. Mom made spaghetti for dinner.”

Steve laughed slightly at Eric’s frankness as Wayne and Ted walked up.

“Hey, Steve,” Wayne asked, “what do you think about heading to the backyard? It’s a nice night, and I know my children could use a chance to burn some energy.”

“That’d be great. We’ll just have to keep an eye out. There’s a creek about fifty yards beyond that big elm.” Steve pointed to a distinctive moonlit, old tree looming forty-five feet into the air.

“We’re going to take the children outside,” Steve told Teresa, who was sitting on the couch beside Carolyn and Virginia. Emily and Amy were seated on the floor in front of her, talking. “Would you ladies like to join us?”

Teresa looked to the others for a hint, then back to her husband. “Would it be okay if we stayed in here?”

“Sure. I think the five of us can handle it.” Steve winked at his wife and headed out the door.

“It is so good to see him enjoying himself,” Teresa remarked to Carolyn as Ted slid the door shut. “These past few weeks have been hard for him.”

“I really appreciate the attitude you’ve both had through all of this,” Carolyn began. “Times of rejection and pain really make it clear who we are on the inside. You’ve encouraged me tremendously by the way you keep turning to Jesus and choosing to embrace His people and His ways. Thanks.”

Teresa smiled, a little embarrassed, as she fought the urge to tear up. “Thanks. I don’t think I could have done it without you guys.”

Silence held the moment as the ladies each savored the supernatural fellowship Jesus had so graciously given them.

“Can I ask you all about something?” Teresa produced a neatly-opened envelope from the drawer in the end table. “It’s a letter I got today.”

“Sure,” Emily said as Carolyn and Virginia nodded in agreement.

“Carolyn, I’m sure you remember Renee Clark?”

“From college? The leader of the campus women’s Christian group?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” Teresa’s face showed a hint of pain as she considered what to say. “Well, we’ve sort of kept in touch over the last ten years, and I hadn’t heard from her in about six months until I got this letter yesterday. I’m not sure what to think about it.” She pulled her legs up underneath herself. “So, I was hoping I could get your input.” She scanned the four faces around her. “And see if you can help me find out what God might want me to do.”

“What’s the letter about?” Carolyn asked.

“Well…I normally wouldn’t want to share a letter this personal with others, but she specifically asked me to. She’s pretty desperate for a solution.”

Teresa proceeded to read the lengthy letter, skipping over some parts that seemed the most personal. The letter explained that Renee had found out her husband, a deacon in the local church, had been unfaithful. Renee described her heartbreak and fury over the news. She said her husband had begged her for forgiveness and assured her he wanted the marriage to heal and grow stronger. But Renee wasn’t sure she was ready to stay committed to their marriage. She told Teresa she had “scriptural grounds” for divorce and was leaning that way. The tone of the letter revealed some bitterness, but mostly the pain that accompanies a betrayal.

Teresa finished reading, and no one spoke for several moments.

“What’s her marriage been like up until now?” Emily asked.

“It’s been pretty rocky, lately,” Teresa answered. “That’s one of my concerns. I hope she’s not just seeing divorce as a way out of what’s already been a difficult situation.”

Virginia felt tears stinging her eyes as she thought about Renee. She knew what Renee was feeling. It hadn’t been too many months since she’d faced very similar struggles herself. Tension, animosity, betrayal. The memories of Hal’s sordid life were vivid…and painful.

Virginia clearly remembered the morning last fall when she faced Jesus about it all — honestly expressing her frustrations and her desire to abandon the marriage. As she faced Him that morning, a thought had pricked her. She knew in her heart it was from God — “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Through that verse, the true tenacity of God’s love struck her deeply, and she knew God wanted her to lay her life down for her husband and trust Him in her circumstances. It hadn’t been easy since then, but she had found peace and life as a result of her obedience.

She now cleared her throat and spoke in a soft voice. “I…don’t know the answer for this exact situation, but I do know the answer won’t be found until Renee faces Jesus. Whether or not she has technical grounds for divorce isn’t the main issue. The main thing is, what does the Father want? Maybe He wants to teach her something through all of this. And she’ll lose out if she runs away from it.” Virginia fought back the tears. “I’ve been living for the past year in a marriage that hasn’t seemed salvageable. But by sticking close to God and not giving up, He’s using it to deepen me. It’s been hard, but I wouldn’t trade the Jesus-centered suffering I’ve been given for anything.”

Teresa nodded, thoughtfully, thankful for this look inside Virginia’s heart. Carolyn was also rejoicing and thanking Jesus. He had taken the pain — which normally crushes and embitters — and turned it into a tool to deepen her sister. He had also provided a unique situation for this quiet sister to express her heart. God is good!

“Well, I don’t know about all of you,” Carolyn said, “but that sounds like something Renee ought to hear.”

“Maybe you and I could write a letter together,” Teresa suggested to Carolyn. “I’m sure she remembers you.”

Carolyn waited for a minute, considering Teresa’s proposition. “I don’t know,” she mused. “I was thinking face to face might be good. There’s nothing like being able to look someone in the eye and share Jesus’ heart with them.” She looked toward Emily and the others. “How’s that sound to you?”

“Sounds good,” Virginia responded.

“Do you think we could?” Teresa asked eagerly. “I’d like that.”

“Well,” Carolyn noted, “here come our husbands. Let’s see what they think about the idea of taking a trip together.”

“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING about, Steve?” Ted asked, sitting in the motel chair with his feet propped up on the bed.

Steve placed a pillow from the bed under his chest as he supported his weight on his elbows and shifted his body toward Ted. “Oh, I was just thinking about the look on Renee’s face earlier when we dropped Teresa and Carolyn off at her house. She looked so empty, so despondent. It’s hard to imagine she was once someone that both of our wives looked up to spiritually.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I used to think things like this couldn’t happen to Christians…”

“Hey, Ted, let’s pray for them.”

Both men lowered their heads and closed their eyes. Steve’s clasped hands gave expression to the strong desire he felt to see Renee’s life turn around. “Father, please breathe Your Life into Renee’s house this afternoon and tonight. Enable Teresa and Carolyn to inspire hope and faith in Renee’s heart. Please open her eyes so she can see that You are mighty to save, that You forgive sins and are willing to make all things new. Allow the choices in front of her to be very clear. We ask in the name of Your Son, Jesus. Amen.”

Both men were silent for several moments as they considered the seriousness of the situation with their wives’ friend.

“Hey, Steve—” Ted sat up, “you grew up here. Do you have any idea what we could do for the next few hours?”

“How would you like to go for a run? There’s a hill I used to run up that has a great view of the city.”

“Sounds great.”

TED’S FACE STRAINED as he made his way around the bend in the road and saw the crest of the hill a hundred yards ahead. He surged forward, despite his heavy breathing and burning muscles. Glancing next to him, he noticed Steve running with relative ease — his breathing measured, not heavy, his gait bouncy and light.

At last they reached the top and both men stopped running. Ted bent over with his hands on his knees and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Steve walked to the lookout where he could see the city’s skyline in the distance. The sun was low in the sky and cast a reddish hue on the faces of the buildings. He looked thoughtfully at the city for a long time while Ted caught his breath.

“Hey,” Ted asked, his breathing still heavy, “where did you learn to run like that?”

“Oh, I ran cross-country in high school and in college. Since then, I’ve tried to get out a couple times a week, but I haven’t had as much time lately.

Ted nodded.

Steve’s eyes returned again to the view of the city before them. “You know, the first time I ran up this hill, I was a freshman in high school. I remember looking out at the city and dreaming of being famous one day.” The city loomed before them, towering and impressive. Steve pointed to an especially tall skyscraper with copper-colored glass. “See the round structure on top of that building? That’s supposed to be the finest restaurant in town. When I was in college, I used to look at that restaurant; I wanted to become rich and have a beautiful wife and eat in places like that all the time.” Steve shook his head. “That seems like a distant memory now — like it’s not even me.”

“It’s not you,” Ted interjected. “You’re a new creation. Remember? The old has gone, the new has come.”

“You’re right,” Steve nodded, “this is the same hill I used to run up. It’s the same road. It’s the same city. But somehow, it’s a different me.”

“I used to feel the same way about football stadiums when I was growing up. No matter where I was, I couldn’t pass a football stadium without dreaming of becoming a star and playing in the pros one day.” Now Ted shook his head, marveling at the changes he had experienced in his life. “Compared to following God and knowing Him, all of my old dreams seem empty and meaningless.”

“No kidding!” Steve exclaimed. “And this is only the beginning. God’s going to continue to change us for the rest of our lives and show us more and more of what life’s all about. All we have to do is stay close to Him.”

Steve pointed back to the horizon, where the setting sun blazed like a fireball.

“Wow, that’s beautiful!” Ted exclaimed. “A somewhat better destiny, don’t you think? Eternally befriended, enlightened and empowered by the Creator of stars of fire! Not bad.”

The two watched quietly as the sun continued it’s journey.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.”

THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN shone brightly on Renee’s house as Ted and Steve carried their wives’ bags to the car. It was a large, attractive house with a well-kept yard — the type of place one usually assumes is the home of a happy family.

“Well, how’d it go, ladies?” Ted asked, as the last door was shut and he put the van into gear.

Carolyn and Teresa looked at each other, both uncertain how to characterize their last twenty-four hours with Renee.

“I think it went okay,” Teresa began, “although it sure got off to a rough start. She feels very hurt, and at first a lot of pent-up resentment and anger came out. There were a lot of loud outbursts and tears. It was very ugly for awhile just after we got there.”

“It was a delicate situation, for sure,” Carolyn added. “On the one hand, we wanted to support someone who is going through a very traumatic time. But on the other hand, we had to help her see that many of her attitudes were unlike Jesus — and she needed to soften her heart and turn away from them. I found myself having to call out to God in the midst of it all. And He really came through, showing us His wisdom and providing keys to her heart that we might have otherwise missed.”

“For example,” Teresa said, “I think it was a turning point when you asked Renee what she thought Jesus wanted her to do, not just what He would allow. It seemed to stop her in her tracks. From then on, she stopped hiding behind ‘her rights’ and how she’d been hurt and whether or not she was justified in leaving Frank.”

“Well, that really is the point of following Jesus, isn’t it?” Carolyn asked. “Sometimes we forget He’s alive and has an opinion about what we do. I know I’ve been guilty of forgetting that.”

“So she softened?” Steve asked.

“It took some coaxing,” Teresa explained, “but just before lunchtime today, she seemed to honestly face God on all of this. She was shaky and fragile, but I think something genuine transpired between her and God.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Ted looked back to his wife. “So, it looks hopeful?”

“Yeah.” Carolyn furrowed her eyebrows. “I’d say so. But she is very weak, and doesn’t have much support close to her.”

“What about some of the other women here?” Steve asked. “Aren’t there other women in the church who are trying to help her?”

Teresa shrugged. “Maybe one or two. But they don’t seem to know quite how to help. They encouraged her to talk to the counselor on staff.”

“That’s a shame!” Steve shook his head, grieved to again face how the normal, daily work of the priesthood of believers had been stolen and assigned to the “professionals.” Did Jesus promise to be with us where two or three are gathered…unless no one has a degree? No way! We’ve got to believe and trust Him for what He said.

“You know, Steve, something really is wrong with the way Christianity is practiced today.” Teresa was speaking with the energy of a first-time discovery. “It’s been on my mind a lot this weekend. I was at Frank and Renee’s wedding. Remember, they were planning to become missionaries? Now, they’re separated and considering divorce. It’s like things went backward, not forward. They should be busy changing other people’s lives by now. Instead, their own lives have fallen apart. Renee was in better shape ten years ago. Something is very, very wrong when things like this can take place. And the shocking thing is that this is not an isolated case. There are thousands of Franks and Renees out there. It’s tragic.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s tragic,” Carolyn said. “It’s tragic for the children, too. I looked into their eyes several times while we were there. It was obvious they’ve been affected by all this. Their young eyes showed confusion and pain. My heart just wanted to break when I saw them. They deserve better than this. But even with the children, the posters on their bedroom walls gave subtle hints of a worldly upbringing. Nothing terrible by the world’s standards — posters of athletes and singers — but still, it’s holding up unbelievers as role models. And that stinks!”

“Right,” Ted joined. “It’s crazy to idolize someone because he’s got great hand-eye coordination or a nice voice. Our children’s only heroes need to be men and women who have a deep devotion to Jesus. When we give our affections to something besides Jesus, we are cultivating a love of the world which makes us enemies of God.”

The car became silent as each of its passengers was struck deeply by the tragedy and pain that are so much a part of “modern christianity.”

Carolyn looked out her window, deep in thought. “If the Body of Christ had truly been functioning as the Body of Christ,” she began, “none of this would have needed to happen. But today’s church can’t function that way, often because too many people’s priorities are all wrong. Most people in most churches lead independent lives that center around their own homes and families. It’s ironic, but by focusing on the family rather than on Jesus, His commands, and His Body, they lose both — not a good idea! A healthy family is the product of focusing on Jesus and His life in the Church.”

“That’s what got Frank and Renee into this mess,” Teresa added. “Renee said that Frank had been staying up late to watch movies on cable TV. But nobody in the church knew about it because they only saw each other once or twice a week at a church function. It’s all so shallow! It falls so far short of what God wants and intends for His people. Frank was filling his mind with trash, so it’s no wonder he got himself in trouble.”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way for us or anyone!” Ted reminded. “Our lives and our children’s lives can be different!”

“That’s true, Ted,” Carolyn said. “There is something very special about walking it out together. This weekend alone has proved that to me.” Carolyn turned and looked at Teresa. “You know, Teresa, it has really been special being with you this weekend. I’m sorry it had to be on an occasion like this, but I am grateful to God that He gave us the opportunity to do His work together. I’m looking forward to many more days of working side-by-side, being about our Father’s business.”

81

PHIL MALONE LOOKED UP from the home group attendance records as Nelson Reynolds walked into his office.

“Hello, Nelson. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Phil wasn’t sure, but he thought it might have been the first time Reynolds had ever paid him a personal visit.

Reynolds closed the door behind him. “I’ve made a decision, Phil.” He moved close to Phil and spoke quietly. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“What is it?”

“Twenty-five years ago, I began to build Metro Chapel from the ground up.” He raised his voice and gestured with both hands. “And here it is.” He watched out the window, looking from the lawn to the parking lot and back to the building. “I’ve worked hard…it’s paid off, and I’m glad I did it. But I’m ready to move on.” He turned back around. “Phil, I’ve decided to retire early.”

Phil remained expressionless.

“And you, Phil, are the man I want to see as Senior Pastor once I leave.”

82

WAYNE WAS LEARNING the absolute reality of “the eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you.’” Although his spiritual life had grown tremendously over the last two years, he still realized that he needed the other gifts the Body of Christ had to offer — even when, as in the Bible, those gifts lived in other cities. This recognition prompted tonight’s conference call.

“Luis, this is Wayne. Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here — but it sounds like you’re in a tunnel.”

“Nope, no tunnel. I’m here with George, Ted, Steve and Eric, and we’ve got you on the speaker phone. Is that okay?”

“Sure, no problem. That’s fine. That’s what modern technology’s for, right? God’s purposes.”

“Righto. It’s the next best thing to being with you there in Miami, though that would be great.”

“So, how can I help you guys?”

“Well…we’ve got a situation here we’ve not quite been able to figure out what to do with. We were hoping you could help.”

“I’ll try.”

“Well, there’s a woman in her middle fifties we met recently. She’s the next-door neighbor of Virginia Ramsey. She’s been over a few times…but really, we hardly know her.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Well, last night while we were together, she told us she didn’t have a ‘church home’ and that she wanted to be part of ‘our group.’ I didn’t know what to say.”

“That does sound like it might have been a little tricky. So what did you say?”

“For one thing,” George interjected, “we tried to make it clear that we don’t have a ‘group’ to join.”

“Did she seem to understand that?”

“Not really,” Wayne answered. “But I’m sure it will come up again. That’s why we called. We don’t want to be rude to her, but none of us is really comfortable with the thought of her just being around, thinking she’s a part of something — just because she sat in our living room.”

“I can understand your desire to be fair to her,” Luis began. “But it would be even more unfair to her and to Jesus to prop up any shallowness by allowing her to ‘attend’ your living room. If it’s not going to go any deeper than that, it shouldn’t continue.”

“We completely agree,” Ted said. “But how do we communicate that in a way that’s both clear and hopeful?”

“You might start,” Luis said, “by letting her know that God’s Kingdom isn’t a place — nor is it a group! According to Jesus, the Kingdom isn’t here or there but within you. It’s found on the insides of people. You can attend a group but you can’t ‘attend’ George or Wayne or Carolyn or Emily…get it?

“Yes, there is something that God views as a local Church, or lampstand — as Jesus would call it. But, according to Revelation chapter two, it is something that God grants or takes away. Gathering a number of people together for religious purposes does not make a group of people into a true Church, no matter how often they meet! Even mighty Ephesus was on the verge of losing its right to be called a true Church — from Heaven’s perspective. If they didn’t repent and return to their first love, it wouldn’t matter if there were ten thousand people who considered themselves a ‘part’ or a ‘member’. God wasn’t going to call it a true Church any longer.

“So, not everything that calls itself a ‘church’ is one — though, no doubt, there are saved people there. Ephesus had more going for it than just about any place today, yet was just about to have the privilege of Jesus’ Special Circulating Presence removed. They were saved perhaps, but no longer a Church.

“Secondly, people can’t ‘join’ or ‘place membership’ even if it is a true Church, or Lampstand. In order to find the Kingdom, you must lose your life by melting it into the lives of those around you. It’s like a mashed potato in a bowl of mashed potatoes instead of a whole potato in a bowl of potatoes. When you give your heart away to others and you receive their heart in return, then you can share in the Kingdom that’s within them! But not before!

“You could attend meetings seven days a week until you were a hundred and three and still not be part of the richness of His Kingdom, because you had never melted your life into the lives of others. The hand doesn’t attend the arm for meetings, does it? NO! It’s vitally connected! Tissue, veins, bones — life. The body of Christ is no different. As Paul said, ‘We are members of one another.’”

“We should have recorded this!” Eric blurted. “Then we could have just played it for her.”

“The Teacher lives inside of you, too,” Luis encouraged. “And the Spirit promises to remind us — so you’ll be fine.”

“O-K!” The men surrendered in unison.

“Hey, Luis, thanks a lot for your time,” Wayne concluded.

“You’re very welcome! Glad I was able to help.”

83

DING! DING! DING! DING!

Eric looked up in dismay. “Uh, George? There’s a train coming.”

George looked down the track in both directions. “No, Eric. There’s a bell ringing. That’s all.”

Eric sprang from the car and peered at George through the open window. “That bell means there’s a train coming, George. Get out and help me push.”

“Do you see any trains, Eric?”

“No, not yet.”

George smiled. “Well, trains don’t just sneak up on you. Relax. The engine’s just flooded. I’m sure it will start right up in a few seconds.”

Reluctantly, Eric climbed back into the car. He sat fidgeting, his eyes darting back and forth between George and the horizon.

“Couldn’t we just push the car off the tracks and then try to start it?” Eric swallowed hard as he spoke.

George looked at him and smiled again. “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

“It’s not the adding I’m worried about,” Eric muttered. “It’s the taking away!”

A few seconds later, George turned the key again and the engine started. Eric watched until they were clear of the tracks, then sank into an exhausted heap. George peered at his watch. Already 5:30. Wayne would be wondering whether anyone was really coming to pick him up from work.

“How did I let myself get talked into taking the back way to Vito’s, anyway?” George wondered playfully.

Eric shrugged. “Hey, did I tell you my sister called last night?”

“No. How did that go?”

“Oh…I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not like we ever get into any arguments or anything. She thinks I’m a really great brother, and she’s happy that I’m happy. But I wish there could be more to it than that.”

George pulled up to a traffic light and turned to face Eric. “Like what?”

“Well…her life’s a mess. And I don’t think she really takes my life with Jesus all that seriously. She thinks it’s good for me, but that’s as far as it goes. And I can’t say I blame her. Why should I expect her to take me seriously when I’m always cracking jokes about everything? She probably just thinks this is one more kick I’m on. Know what I mean?”

“I think so.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed as he sat up. “You know, I always have something to say. A quick comeback for everything. Ahhhhk! It bugs me!”

George pulled the old Continental up to the curb across from Vito’s. He nodded slowly, collecting his thoughts. “There’s a certain amount of risk in making wisecracks because it does make you the center of attention,” he began.

“But,” Eric cut in, “it’s not the kind of attention you get because God is overflowing in your life. It’s a safer kind of attention. One that’s not meant to be taken seriously. I don’t want God’s life inside of me to be hidden behind my personality.” Eric pounded the dashboard with his fist. “Maybe I just need to practice being more sober!”

George shook his head. “You need to practice being more real — with yourself and everybody else. How do I become more like Jesus? By acting stoic and serious? No. While it’s true that Jesus was a man of sorrows and familiar with grief, He was also full of joy in the Holy Spirit. So how do you know which way to act? By current fellowship — communion with Him. By not doing anything you don’t see the Father currently doing — exactly the way Jesus said He functioned. The most serious side effect to joking around all the time is the loss of fellowship with God, not how you’re perceived by others. Stay connected to the Head, and as John three says, you’re guaranteed to be like the wind. Not predictably comical or serious.”

Eric ran both hands through his disheveled locks. “You’re a good friend, George. You know, I’m gonna need some help learning how to listen to Jesus’ voice over the noise of my loud personality. This is uncharted territory for me.”

George laid a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “God designed your personality; it’s not the enemy. It just has to be brought under His government, or it becomes twisted into something that was never His idea.”

Eric swallowed hard, then smiled. “That’s what I want then, for sure!”

VITO LOOKED UP from behind his cash register as the two men entered the restaurant. With a warm smile and a friendly nod he gestured toward the kitchen.

George and Eric spotted Wayne in the far corner of the large room loading the dishwasher, while Tony scurried from station to station, lending a hand wherever it was needed.

“Now mosta my customas really prefer their Alfredo a little creamier,” George heard Tony say to one of the new cooks. “Maybe if ya wouldn’t mind addin’ just a little more parmesan.”

Wayne looked up from the pan of baked-on lasagna he was scrubbing and smiled broadly at George and Eric. He noticed a distant look on George’s face — something in his eyes. Hmmm. Wayne made a mental note of it as he quickly shoved the pan into the dishwasher and untied his apron.

“I was beginning to wonder if you guys forgot about me,” he said with a smile.

“We ran into a bit of car trouble,” George apologized.

Eric grinned and resisted the temptation to chide George about the car. Thanks, Father! I want to learn to walk with You — and to encourage my brothers with lightheartedness as YOU see fit, not as I see fit.

Wayne noted Eric’s grin and raised an eyebrow.

“Inside joke,” George explained.

Tony looked up and spotted the friends in the corner. He came bounding across the room and stood next to Wayne, beaming from ear to ear. “Hey, thanks for lettin’ our star dishwasha stay late taday.”

“No problem,” George returned with a pat on the back. “Glad we could help.”

Just then, Vito poked his head into the kitchen. “You might as well take off, Wayne. I think we’ve got the rest under control.” He started to leave, but stepped fully inside instead. “Besides, if you are still here when the dinner rush pours in—” he raised his eyebrows in mock seriousness, “you’re mine again!”

Wayne smiled and put the last of the dishes in the washer. Then grabbing a wad of steel wool, he quickly scoured a spot on the stainless steel sink. Wayne caught one last look from Vito, then raised his hands in surrender. “All right. I’m outta here.” He waved to Tony, then threw the steel wool onto the counter.

GEORGE SLID BEHIND THE WHEEL and forced the key into the ignition. Eric scrambled into the back seat and leaned forward on the large, middle armrest.

“I know a shortcut to your house, Wayne,” Eric offered.

“I’ll do the driving, thank you,” George scolded playfully. “Remember, we want to keep Wayne alive. Right?”

Wayne fought back the urge to pry this joke out of them, thinking it would be safer not to know.

The three rode in silence for several minutes. Then Eric, leaning over the seat to catch Wayne’s attention, asked, “So how’s it going with Tony?”

“To be honest, it’s hard to tell at times. He’s so easy-going, and with his quick wit, I’m not always sure how deep things go.”

Eric nodded slowly, reminded again of his own need. “Do you guys have much time to talk while you’re working?”

“Well, not so much during the lunch and dinner rushes. I hardly even see him while we’re both serving tables. But we do get to be together a decent amount when we’re getting things ready. And at night, sometimes, when we’re both closing.”

“Anything we can be asking Jesus to help with?” George inquired.

Wayne turned in his seat in order to see Eric and George better. “Actually, something that’s been on my mind is that I really don’t want to see Tony or anyone else after the flesh. If I walk away from a conversation feeling good about it, I don’t want it to be because he made me laugh or because I enjoy being around him. I want it to be because I see God’s thumbprint there. I want to see the Spirit at work in his life, convicting him and drawing him into a love relationship with Jesus.”

George eased the large vehicle into Wayne’s driveway. “Well, let’s make every minute we have with him count.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne said. “There have been some good signs along the way. Like the other day, Tony came up and told me that he’s been treating one of the cooks pretty bad for over a year. You know, lots of sarcastic remarks here and there. He wanted to make things right, and it seemed like he was actually broken about it. Anyway, he was asking me what I thought God would want him to do.”

Wayne unfastened his seat belt and breathed a sigh. “I don’t want him to just start becoming ‘moral.’ He still needs a revelation, a seeing, an experiencing of the person of Jesus in his inner man, just like the Scripture says. I’d really appreciate your pleadings with the Father, guys.”

“Can we do that now?” Eric suggested.

“Sounds good,” Wayne said as they moved closer together.

“HELLO?”

“Hi, George, this is Wayne. I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“Oh, not at all. I was just staying up late to do a little reading.”

“Well, the reason I’m calling is because I noticed an unusual expression on your face when you walked into Vito’s tonight. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with you.”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Eric and I had just finished a pretty important conversation in the car right before we walked in. It was good. I’m really glad we got to talk.”

“So what did the look mean, if it’s okay to ask?”

“When I walked into the restaurant, it was occurring to me that I never could have had that conversation with Eric if I had stayed behind my rostrum and behind my desk at the university. The verse that came to my mind was from First Thessalonians chapter two: ‘We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us.’”

“That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Jesus said He came to be with them that He might send them out. It was the ‘life that became the light of men’ — not ideas that became the light of men.”

“Exactly! Isn’t it so much different than just sharing truths in a classroom or a sermon? It’s the way Jesus lived. He shared his life with the disciples day in and day out. And it’s the way Paul lived, too. He always seemed to have a group of people with him wherever he traveled. And when he spent some time in a city, he shared his life, not just ideas, with the people. He wasn’t a religious expert who dispensed truth at assigned times and places. No pulpit. No speeches or sermons. No titles. No religious garb or lingo. He simply loved people and gave his life away to them.”

“I’ve felt the same way since I started working at Vito’s,” Wayne added. “It isn’t glamorous to do ordinary things with ordinary people. But I’m convinced that daily, real life, countertop-level interaction — and not distant teacher-student information exchanging — is the way God wants us to build into each other. That’s the way lives change. That’s the Kingdom being enlarged — not so much the glamorous, untestable stuff, but hearts being enlarged for Jesus! ‘In the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed.’”

“Absolutely,” George nodded. “Anyway, those were some of the thoughts flooding my mind when I walked into Vito’s tonight. I felt like God was confirming to me that I had made the right decision in leaving the Bible department. I felt awed by God’s Goodness and Majesty.”

“It makes me think of the verse, ‘For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.’”

“Amen, Wayne. Exactly.”

84

PHIL STEPPED DOWN from the stage, confident his delivery was crisp and engaging and the message sound. On this, his first Sunday as Senior Pastor of Metro Chapel, everything was going like clockwork. The audience had received him with applause as he stepped on stage. They had given rapt attention to his sermon, “Blueprint for the Future,” in which he had laid out his plans for taking Metro Chapel into the next decade.

“Wonderful sermon, Pastor Malone.” This first compliment came from one of the members seated on the front row. “It’s comforting to know we’ve got a visionary like you at the helm now that Pastor Reynolds has retired.”

Phil beamed. “Thank you very much.” He made his way to the lobby to greet his members on their way out. After the last of them had left, he went upstairs to get his things.

Walking into his office, something new caught his eye. He took two steps back and stared at the wall by his door. Philip J. Malone, Senior Pastor. “Hmmm. Looks good in gold.”

He only planned to grab his briefcase but was drawn to sit and think before joining his family downstairs. He picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desk. This is my office. He liked it…although, somehow, it just didn’t seem as large from this side of the desk.

He sat in his chair, soaking up his new surroundings. “Malone, you’ve done well.” The people love me. This is what I’ve always wanted. For God’s Glory. Even before he finished his thought, he was stung by an almost unconscious discontentment, as if he were talking himself into rejoicing rather than just letting it out.

He quickly suppressed those thoughts and continued the inventory. Trophies…his diploma…summa cum laude…an aerial photo of the property. He felt a swell of pride, but that sense of dissatisfaction remained. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?

On his desk sat a new computer, the latest and the fastest. Beside it was a photo of his family, framed in mahogany. His wife and children were all smiling. As he stared at it, he again felt…regret. Oh, it’ll all turn out okay. He’s just a teenager. He’ll come around.

He shook the thoughts, or tried to, as he continued to scan the room.

SNAP!

He jumped in his seat as the pencil broke in his hand. What’s bugging me?! He ran through the possibilities in his mind. I have all I ever wanted. This is the pinnacle I’ve been living to reach.

He sat for a few moments in silence, then felt his heart stop as he heard a loud rap at the door.

“Who is it?” Phil snapped, perturbed by the interruption.

“Sergeant O’Donnell with the State Police Department. Could I have a word with you, Mr. Malone?”

Phil’s stomach tightened but he maintained control and answered evenly, “Come in.”

The solemn face of the state trooper only tightened the knot. His heart rate accelerated and his palms became instantly moist.

“Are you Philip J. Malone?” the blue-uniformed officer asked in an official tone.

Phil swallowed hard, fighting to sound unaffected by this still mysterious visitor. “I am.”

“Sir, do you have any idea where your son, Philip, Jr., is right now?”

Phil relaxed a bit, wondering what trouble his son might have caused. “Yes, I believe he’s in his room.” Phil shuffled, slightly embarrassed. “He usually sleeps in on Sunday mornings.”

The officer took a deep breath. “Sir, it is my duty to inform you that there was a single-car, drunk driving accident at four this morning.” The man took off his hat. “We believe one of the young men killed in that accident was your son.”

The broken pencil slipped from Phil’s hand and landed on the carpet.

85

“PIZZA!” DECLARED a young girl full of blonde curls, barely able to balance the pizza box in her hand.

“How much do I owe you, Miss?” Wayne Davidson asked.

“Four hundred seventy-three dollars,” the girl said without flinching. She smiled broadly as her father repeated the number incredulously and then opened his hand in her palm, filling it with imaginary money.

“There you go,” Wayne said, carefully receiving the box from his youngest daughter, Ashley. “This better be good,” he warned with mock seriousness. Ashley, full of delight, carefully placed the imaginary tender into her little pink purse covered with a thousand shiny beads. She looked up and was about to leave when her dad, seeking to enhance the role-playing that she was so obviously enjoying, startled her. “Hey, what about my change?”

Ashley looked wide-eyed, taken back by the question. But she resumed her fantasy with a smile when her father’s grin and sparkling eyes revealed he was still playing.

“Hey, Dad, it’s your turn,” Blake entreated eagerly. They were sitting opposite each other in the living room with a ripe backgammon game on the table between them.

“Hold your horses, Champ. I’ll be with you in a sec.” Wayne slowly pivoted in his chair as he watched his little girl skip off to her room to prepare another pizza with her sister Amanda. He savored the moment, reflecting on the changes in his children.

“I think you’re just trying to stall, Dad—” Blake said with a playful grin, “because you know the outcome is in-evable.”

“That’s inevitable,” Wayne said as he poured the dice from his shaker onto the board.

“In-ev-i-ta-ble,” Blake enunciated slowly. “Two and a three,” Blake observed. “With rolls like that, I may be right no matter how you say it.” Wayne looked up and smiled at his son’s quick wit, then resumed his study of how to maximize his unfortunate lot.

Wayne moved his piece, then gathered his dice, internally sifting thoughts triggered by Blake’s new vocabulary word. His musing was interrupted when his son announced his own good fortune. “Double sixes, Dad. Sor-ry.” He quickly moved various pieces around the board, and as he finished, announced his father’s current condition. “Doesn’t look good, Dad. Now you have two on the bar, and the only way you can get out is with a five.”

Wayne surveyed the situation, conceding his son’s analysis with a slow and heavy nod. And that word once again invaded his thoughts.

“Inevitable, Dad.”

Wayne rolled a two and a six, neither number able to help him.

“See?” Blake said, rolling his dice. He quickly positioned his pieces as the numbers allowed, grimacing as he debated whether it was wise to have left one of his tokens vulnerable in the fifth position of his home row.

“Do you know what inevitable means, Blake?” Wayne asked, tasting an opportunity.

“Sure,” Blake answered robotically. “It means: not able to be prevented or avoided.” He smiled proudly. “I’m home-schooled.”

“I know what Mr. Webster thinks. Now, can you put that in your words?”

Blake thought for a minute. “Um…It means that something has to happen, that it can’t be stopped. That there is no way out of it. That it’s a sure thing.”

Wayne smiled and tilted his tumbler, and to Blake’s dismay, when the white cubes rested, they reported double fives. Wayne moved his pieces deliberately around the board, noting Blake’s expression as the tide of the game turned.

“You know, some things are inevitable, Blake, but many things aren’t. God’s law of sowing and reaping is inevitable. We will reap what we sow. But what we sow is not inevitable. We have choices.” Wayne could see Blake was trying to understand but wasn’t quite connecting.

“In this game, for instance, I rolled, by chance, certain numbers and I had to make choices about what to do with those numbers. Some pieces move forward and are given safety; others, I had to leave vulnerable. You also made those kinds of choices. You see, the outcome was never inevitable. You had choices to make within the rules of the game.” Wayne pointed at Blake’s piece. “You took a risk and left that guy open on the five position, and it may have cost you the game.

“The rules of the game, like God’s law of sowing and reaping, don’t change — though our choices can affect our outcome. And of course, in backgammon and in all of life, there’s God’s Sovereignty involved as well — to keep us from ever getting too smug in our thinking.”

Wayne hoped some of what he said was making sense. However, it was as much for his own benefit as it was for his son’s that he was verbalizing these thoughts.

Blake rolled his dice. “Double sixes again, Dad! You’re going to have some tough choices to make.” Blake beamed as he moved his pieces around the board with zeal.

Wayne smiled in his heart, and sighed, “That’s true, son. That’s true.”

“Pizza!” Both of his girls now stood in front of Wayne and Blake, boxes in hand, ready to engage in imaginary barter.

“Decisions, decisions,” Wayne said playfully, shooting a smile at Blake. “Now who has the peanut butter pizza?”

The girls twisted with giggles. “Daaad.”

86

“TONY VENEZIANO, who do you say Jesus is?” Wayne and Tony were standing knee-deep in a stream. On the bank were the disciples Tony had come to know and love.

“He’s LORD. Lord of heav’n and earth. He is the Son of the Living God. And today, I’m makin’ a vow with Him that I will make him my Lord and follow Him for the rest of my life!”

A series of “Amens” and “All rights” exploded from the bank.

“Tony, are you ready to die?”

“Ready ta die and ta live!”

More cheers.

“Tony Veneziano, based on your choice to surrender your life to Jesus and be washed in His blood, and by the authority of our Brother and Lord Jesus Christ, I bury you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Enjoy, for a billion years, the forgiveness of your sins and the deposit of the Holy Spirit to protect and guide and teach you.”

SPLASH! Claps! Cheers!

As Tony came up out of the water, he threw his arms around Wayne and gave him a big bear hug. Tears of joy escaped from Tony’s eyes as he whispered to Wayne, “Thanks, man. Thanks.” Then Tony tackled Wayne.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I read in my Bible that they both went down into the water! Right?” Wayne succumbed and went under.

Songs filled the air as various saints welcomed Tony into the family of God. “I’m so glad I’m free, I’m so glad I’m free…” swelled the musical chorus.

The flock of believers made their way up the hill into Steve Parker’s backyard. “Isn’t God great?” George said to Steve.

Steve smiled broadly at George. His whole countenance said, “Amen!”

“Hey, George,” Amy called from across the lawn, “I got a letter today that I think you might like to take a look at.” George was taken back at Amy’s excitement. She was bubbling.

“It must have been quite a letter. Who was it from?” George asked.

“Rick!” Amy reached into her pocket and pulled out an opened envelope. “I sent him a short note with some pictures of Hope over a month ago, and he has finally broken the silence.”

“You’re kidding! Can I read it?”

“That’s why I brought it,” she teased.

George’s hands almost trembled as he quickly glanced at the beginning of the letter. It had been so long since they had heard from Rick, he had given up on hearing from him again.

Dear Amy,

I am very, very sorry I haven’t written or called. I don’t know why you and George have continued to send me letters of encouragement when I have been so rude and cold to both of you. Thank you so much for sending the pictures of Hope! She’s beautiful! I thought my heart was going to melt, and I really regretted not being there.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and have begun to try to pray again. I’ve planted a lot of bad seeds and lost a lot of ground. I hope it’s not too late for me. Please ask everyone to pray for me every day, if they’d be willing. I hope we can all talk more soon…

As George continued reading, the emotion of the moment surged. The small circle of saints embraced and offered a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving for this window back into Rick’s life. They were grateful because it seemed his heart was drawn to the Father, rather than to some worldly sense of guilt or chivalry. There was a hearty and tearful, “Amen.”

The solemn moment was interrupted once again as Carolyn let out a cry from her edge of the circle. “Look, Amy, she’s walking!”

All heads turned to see. Little Hope tottered off balance, pressing on toward the sound of her mother’s voice. Amy called to her daughter who was struggling against the contours of the lawn, trying to make her way across the circle.

“You can do it, Hope. Hang in there. Walk to me, walk to Mommy.” Amy’s eager tone was echoed by the rest of the backyard onlookers as little Hope made her first trip on foot toward her mother’s outstretched arms.

“One, two, three…” Ted and Carolyn led the count, the excitement building with each step.

An eager round of applause punctuated Hope’s arrival into her mother’s arms. Amy beamed at the unexpected surprise.

“I can’t believe how much she has grown,” Carolyn cooed. “She will be running soon.”

“Oh, don’t grow her up so quickly, now,” Amy chastised playfully. “I want to enjoy her.”

“I have a song that’s been on my mind all day,” Teresa offered. “Can we sing Sovereign King?”

A chorus of deep, genuine gratitude erupted from the small band of happy saints and echoed through the neighborhood. It was clearly a day of Sovereign beginnings.

This book ends here, but like the book of Acts, this writing is intended as a plea for YOU to continue this journey. You write the chapters that are to come. Add your life and Church experience to this book — for the Glory of God and the advance of His life’s work in the Church.

“Go ye therefore…”