Then, one by one, he began to introduce those who had come, welcoming them to the family of God, embracing each one of them. Sam was there to accept the hugs and thanks of all who had come. When Rob came up, Sam reached for his hand. Rob pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, overcome.
“You didn’t call,” Sam said. “I haven’t even seen you at work.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all week,” Rob said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. You may have saved my life. I owe you, big time.”
“No,” Sam said. “It’s not me you owe.”
By the time everyone had been welcomed and greeted and most of the congregation had left the church, Sam was exhilarated. A handful of people lingered behind.
Lawrence Shipman, the chairman of the deacons, approached him with a concerned look on his face. “What are you doing to get these people into church?” he asked. “Bribing them? Offering them food? What?”
Sam hadn’t expected a question like that. “I’ve been telling them about Jesus.”
“I want to know what they expect,” he demanded as if he hadn’t heard Sam, “coming here and bringing all their friends like that. Do they think they’re gonna get something out of it?”
“They’d be right if they think that,” Sam said. “They are gonna get something out of it.”
“But some of these people don’t fit in with our congregation,” Lawrence said. “Did you see how some of them were dressed? Like they’d come straight from a bar. Church may not be the place where they need to be.”
Sam’s face began to grow hot as it had with Rob in the office the other day. He opened his mouth to tell Lawrence that people with his attitude were the reason for the stagnant state of their church for the past few years. But before he could formulate the words, he heard the man’s inner voice. “I’m powerless. I don’t have any control.”
Sam’s anger vanished. “Lawrence, there isn’t a person on the face of the earth who wouldn’t be welcome in this sanctuary, as far as I’m concerned.”
“We have to exercise some kind of decorum. These people can’t just sluff in here wearing tennis shoes and torn up blue jeans and bleached hair with black roots. Look around. That’s not how we look.”
“No, we wear all our sins on the inside, don’t we? Packed away nice and tight, in clean little packages.”
The man looked as if Sam had just slapped him across the face.
“Lawrence, I know you feel kind of powerless right now, but we’re not supposed to be in control. God is. It’s his house, not ours.”
“Powerless? This isn’t about power!”
“Of course it is,” Sam said. “There are people at this church who would rather die than give up their power to the Holy Spirit.”
“John!” Lawrence raised his voice, summoning the pastor over. John turned from talking to two other deacons and joined them. “You can’t just stand there and let this happen. They’re gonna ruin our church and change the whole face of our congregation.”
John grinned from ear to ear. “I should hope so, Lawrence. I’ve been trying to do that myself for a long time. It looks like the Holy Spirit has decided to answer my prayers.”
Lawrence shook his head and muttered something about calling a deacons’ meeting and bringing this before the outreach committee. Then with a red face, he stormed out of the sanctuary.
John’s expression lost its joy as he watched the man leave. “What did you hear in that, Sam?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think he’s a Christian.”
“He thinks he is, though,” the pastor said. “The Pharisaical kind. Setting a bunch of rules, but forgetting the relationship.”
Sam set his hand on John’s shoulder. “Don’t let him ruin it for you, John.”
John’s face slowly lit back up. “I won’t. Sam, thank you for helping with the greatest Sunday I’ve ever had in the pulpit.”
“I just did what you taught me and what the Holy Spirit gifted me to do.”
“Then you’ll be back this afternoon to visit with the class?”
“I sure will,” John said. “And let’s pray for some of them to help us out.”
But that afternoon, there were only eight at the evangelism class, and they all still had reasons why they weren’t ready to talk to others about Jesus just yet. Still, they couldn’t help being inspired by the number of people who had come down that morning. One of them suggested that they plan a “Let Us Rejoice” party for Friday night and invite the whole church to celebrate with the new believers, as the angels in heaven rejoiced. John thought it was a wonderful idea and an excellent opportunity to baptize them.
“We’ll have to have food, lots of food,” John said. “Kate, would you mind heading that up?”
“Not at all,” she said. “We may not be able to recruit people to witness, but they’re always willing to make food.”
Sam didn’t have much to say about the party. His joy in introducing people to Jesus was at an all-time high. He didn’t see a reason for celebrating when there were still so many people out there who didn’t know Christ. So many needs. So many people hurting. Every moment he spent with people afraid to be obedient to the command to evangelize the world was a moment that he was taking from people who needed him. He couldn’t wait for the meeting to end so he and Kate could head to the mall.
That night, they led eighteen people to Christ.
Friday night, Sam showed up at the “Let Us Rejoice” party and congratulated all those he’d led to Christ. Modestly, he accepted words of praise for his good work from congregates who’d had several days to think about what he had done. He cried through the baptisms, but when they were finished and the party began, Sam grew restless. There were places he had to go, he thought, people he had to see. Needs he had to hear. He told Kate he was going to slip away, then quickly, he disappeared.
It was the Luke 15 kind of thing, he thought. He had to tear the house up and find that coin. He had to leave the ninety-nine sheep and look for the one. He had to scan the horizon for that lost son.
Tonight, something told him there would be lost sons coming in from out of town.
He drove to the bus station, where he had refused to go with John a few days earlier, and timidly, he walked in. There wasn’t a bus there, but several people in the lobby were waiting for one to arrive. He sat down on a bench next to a woman with a baby . . . and began to listen.
But instead of her voice, he heard the sound of his cell phone ringing. He had started carrying it in his pocket so that anyone he’d witnessed to who might have questions could get in touch with him night or day. Quickly, he pulled it out and answered.
“Sam, this is Bill. Where are you, man?”
He hesitated. Bill, who’d had little to do with him since the game, had been at the party when he’d left. “I’m at the bus station. Why?”
“Because I was just thinking,” he said. “Looking around at all these people who look so happy and thinking that never in a million years could I have led any of them to Christ . . .” His voice cracked. “Look, man. The Lord’s really been working on me since that game the other night, and I’m thinking that maybe I need to come and help you out.”
Sam got slowly to his feet. “Really?”
“Yeah. You got enough to go around? Because Jeff and Steve are standing here with me, and they’d kind of like to come too.”
Sam threw his head back and laughed out loud. This was too good to be true. “There’s a bus due in twenty minutes,” he said. “There’ll be plenty for all of us.”
“All right, stay put. We’re on our way.”
A tear rolled down Sam’s face as he dropped his phone back into his pocket.
12
KATE WAS ALREADY HOME WHEN SAM RETURNED THAT night, and he came in and called out for her. She rushed into the room, her hands on her hips. “How many?” she asked with a grin.
He shrugged. “I can’t even say. Some of them listened. Some
didn’t. But the main thing is that Bill and Jeff and Steve got initiated into the harvest.”
“I know!” She clasped her hands and did a little dance. “I couldn’t believe it when they told me where they were going. Did they have any success?”
“Each of them led at least two people. It was phenomenal. They were practically jumping up and down. You should have seen it. And then I gave Bill a ride home, and all the way he kept thinking of different people he was gonna tell tomorrow. I think it’s gotten into his blood now. There’s no turning back.”
Kate squealed and threw her arms around him. “You know, I have never been so proud of you as I have these last two weeks.”
“Well, I’m pretty proud of you too.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t done nearly what you’ve done.”
“Well, like you said the other day, I have an edge.”
She sat down, and he told her about some of the people he’d met, their needs, the ways he’d answered them. They laughed and wept and prayed together.
Later, when she went to bed, Sam stayed up. He was too energized to sleep, and he wanted to spend some time with the Lord. Humbly, he got down on his knees and thanked God for the blessing of ears with which to hear, for the needs he was able to fulfill, for the heart of flesh that had replaced his own heart of stone. And then he thanked God for the soul-winners he was raising up among Sam’s friends and his brothers and sisters in Christ, and among the babes in Christ who had new stories to tell and new circles of friends who needed to hear.
Then he sank down in his recliner, opened his Bible, and began studying the Scripture. There was so much he had to learn, he thought. His soul soaked up all he read, digesting everything he saw.
Hours later, he fell asleep with the Bible in his lap.
And again, he began to dream . . .
13
HE DREAMED OF THAT LOST COIN, BUT THIS TIME HE was the one searching his house, looking under things and on top of things. And then he heard that divine, powerful voice that he’d heard almost two weeks earlier. But the words were different.
“And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age.”
He jolted awake and realized he had fallen asleep in the recliner with his Bible in his lap. He felt as touched by God as he had that first night when he’d wakened in a cold sweat with his hands trembling and his heart pounding. Breathless, he got up and went into the bedroom. Kate was still asleep. He didn’t want to wake her, because he didn’t know what to say.
Finally, he stepped into the shower and let the water cool and calm him as it rained down on him. When he came out, Kate stirred and looked at the clock. It was 5:00 A.M. “Did you ever come to bed last night?” she asked in a groggy voice.
“No, I fell asleep in the chair,” he said quietly. He pulled on his robe and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Kate, I had another dream. I heard God talking to me again.”
Kate sat up in bed, her eyes squinted. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age.’”
“Well, that’s a nice thought. Right out of the Bible. Jesus said it after he gave the Great Commission.”
“Yeah, but why did I dream it?”
“Maybe to remind you of the Great Commission he gave you?”
Sam thought that over as he got dressed and headed early to the diner for breakfast. Since it was Saturday, he left Kate to go back to sleep.
Sam parked in front of the diner and went in. He scanned the patrons as he walked to the counter. Some of them were people he had talked to over the last two weeks. Some of them had prayed with him. Some had even come to his church and the “Let Us Rejoice” party the night before. They looked up at him and smiled, and he gave a cursory wave and went to his usual stool at the counter.
He sat down and glanced to his side, smiled and nodded at the elderly woman next to him.
Janie came up. “Hi, Sam. Ready for the usual?”
“Thanks, Janie.”
As she scurried away to get his breakfast, it dawned on him that he hadn’t heard any voices yet. He sat up straighter on his stool and swiveled around, looking one by one into the faces of the people closest to him. Normally, he would have heard three or four by now. But even the woman right next to him remained silent. He leaned closer to her and tried to listen. But nothing came. She was eating her bacon, nibbling on a piece of toast, and there weren’t any words coming out of her heart or her mouth.
Janie came back and put the plate on the counter in front of him. He looked up into her eyes, frantically listening, trying to hear.
“What is it, Sam?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Something’s different.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” He got up and started backing out. “Uh, look. I can’t eat right now.” He threw a five-dollar bill down on the counter. “Maybe I’ll come back in a little bit.”
She nodded with confusion, and he bolted out of the diner and onto the sidewalk. A group of Girl Scouts passed by with boxes of cookies. Out here, when people passed him, he used to hear souls crying out their deepest needs. Now he heard nothing except the sounds of car engines going by, an occasional horn, voices from people chattering as they passed. But not the needs. Not those deep needs that stirred his heart.
Almost frantic with the fear that the gift was gone, he went to his car and drove to the bus station. There he would be able to tell if he had really lost his gift, he thought. There, where needs ran rampant and people were in turmoil. In the middle of a crowd, he would be able to tell.
He got there just as a bus was pulling in to let people out. It had been driving all night, he supposed, and the people were tired. They looked rumpled and wrinkled as they disembarked. He bypassed the terminal and headed straight for the bus. One by one the passengers got off, and he tried to hear.
But there was nothing. The gift was gone.
Tears burst into his eyes, and suddenly, he felt helpless, insignificant. Useless.
He ran back to his car. Where he would go, he wasn’t sure, but he had to do something, he thought. John, his pastor, came to mind as he had on that first day. If anyone could help him, John could. So Sam pulled out and headed to John’s home.
14
JOHN WAS SITTING AT HIS DESK IN HIS STUDY, HUNCHED over his Bible, when his wife let Sam in. Sam was as shaken as he’d been that first morning. He was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and pushing trembling hands through his hair. “John, you’ve got to help me.”
John looked alarmed. “Sam, are you okay?”
“It’s gone!” he cried. “It’s all gone!”
“What is?”
“The gift.”
John got slowly to his feet. “How do you know?”
“I had another dream last night,” Sam ranted. “When I woke up, I felt like something was different, and when I went to the diner, I couldn’t hear the voices. I can’t hear them anywhere, even at the bus station.”
John’s face went slack, and Sam realized how much of his hopes John had been pinning on Sam’s gift. “Maybe it’s just fading,” John said. “Maybe it’ll come back.”
“No.” Sam sat down and shook his head. “I just know that it’s gone. I think I knew on some level when I woke up this morning. After that dream . . .”
John took the seat next to him and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about that dream,” he said. “Sam, what happened in this one?”
“It was about the lost coin again,” he said. “This time it was my coin, and I was looking instead of just watching someone else look. And then God spoke to me.”
“What did he say this time?”
Sam hadn’t thought about it since he’d told Kate earlier. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. “He said, ‘And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age.’”
John sat back in his chair. “That’s the last verse in the Gospel of Matthew. The last words Mat
thew recorded before Jesus ascended.”
“Why would he say that to me?” Sam asked. “What does it mean?”
“Just what it says, I’d imagine.” He stared at Sam for a long moment. “Sam, are you sure it’s gone?”
“Gone,” he said. “I’ve tried. I can’t hear a thing. Just normal voices. Just what you hear.”
He saw that John was struggling to hide the disappointment on his face. “I had kind of counted on it staying. I mean, I don’t know what I was thinking,” John said. “Guess I was exploiting you in some ways.”
“That was fine,” Sam said. “After I got a taste of it, I wanted to be exploited. God gave me the gift for a reason.”
John walked wearily back around his desk and dropped into his chair. “I really don’t know what to think, Sam. Sometimes when I’m at a loss, the best thing to do is pray. Let’s pray.”
Sam gratefully hunched over, and as they began to pray, he felt a sadness fall over him. He knew with a certainty that the gift would not return. The Lord had given it, and he had taken it away. When they’d said “amen,” John looked up at him, thoughts passing like shadows through his own eyes.
“Maybe the gift was just for a season, Sam. Let’s not look at the removal of it as something to grieve about. Let’s remember the joy while you had it. Maybe it was just to give you a glimpse of the urgency of the harvest.”
“Maybe so,” Sam said. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.” His mouth twisted as he tried not to cry, and he covered his face. “I was getting used to winning people to Christ. The confidence I had when I could just walk up to someone and know what their needs were. Hear inside them, just like the Lord does. What am I gonna do now?”
“You don’t have to quit,” John said. “You can still tell people about Jesus, just the way I do, and everybody else you taught does.”