They hurried out of the hospital and up the sidewalk, and Bree shook her head. Where in the world would Carl’s feet lead them now?
12
CARL DIDN’T LEAVE THE HOSPITAL CAMPUS. INSTEAD he led them around the building to the courtyard beside a pond, where patients and staff members sat on benches, smoking their cigarettes or staring at the water. Carl’s step slowed as he reached a man who sat facing the water, his arms crossed, a stricken, pained look on his face.
“Him?” Bree asked, and Carl nodded.
Bree stepped up to the man. “Excuse me, sir?”
He looked up, and met her eyes.
Flash.
She saw him holding his wife in a dark hospital room, lit only by the night light above her bed. She wept against his chest, and he wept with her. “My baby. Everything was going to be so perfect. One more week, and he would have been born. One lousy earthquake changed everything.”
“At least you’re all right.” The man’s voice was pained, strained.
“I wish I was dead,” she said. “I want my baby.”
Flash.
“Do I know you?” The man frowned up at them.
“Uh . . . no.” Bree wondered how to proceed. She couldn’t very well tell Andy what was wrong right in front of the man. No, she was going to have to start this herself. “I’m so sorry about the death of your baby. How did it happen?”
He shook his head. “The earthquake. My wife fell when our floor caved in. It’s a wonder she wasn’t killed too.”
Bree looked up at Andy.
He took the seat on the other side of the man, then held out his hand. “Hi, sir. My name’s Andy Hendrix. Do you mind if I sit down for a minute?”
The man shook Andy’s hand. “Sam Jones. No, I guess not.”
“I don’t know if you’ve ever read Psalm 116:15, but it says that ‘precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His godly ones.’”
Sam brought his wet eyes to Andy. “It’s not so precious to me.”
“No, it never is to us, but your baby’s in heaven, and you have the opportunity to see her again.”
“Him.” Sam cleared his throat. “He was my son.” He started to weep again and covered his face to hide it from them.
Andy touched his back. “God understands your pain. His Son died too. An excruciating, cruel kind of death.”
The man looked up at him, his features twisted. “I know all about the cross. Never made any sense to me. And the bit about God giving up His only son . . . If there were a God, why would He do that? Why would He let Him die?”
“He let Him die because that was why He was born,” Andy said. “Jesus came for one purpose: to die so we wouldn’t have to.”
“Then why do we?” Sam challenged. “If He came to die for us, then why isn’t my son alive? Why aren’t my parents still here? Why do I have to visit them at their graves?”
Bree watched Andy, waiting to see his answer. She wasn’t sure she could have answered that herself.
“It all goes back to Genesis,” Andy said. “When man fell. He had a perfect world, and then Satan tempted him. Told him he could be like God and that he wouldn’t die. But Adam died, and so did Eve, and so has everyone in the world since that time. Jesus came to stop that cycle, to give us a chance to live, to take on Himself the punishment that we’ve all deserved because we’ve all sinned. Hebrews 5:8–9 says that, ‘Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered. And having been made perfect, He became to all those who obey Him the source of eternal salvation.’”
“Obey Him in what? What has God ever asked me to do for Him?”
“Obey by believing in Him. If you do that, we’re told that we do not grieve as those who have no hope. That when Jesus comes again, the dead shall rise first. Yes, your little son will rise first, and then you’ll join him in the clouds. We’ll be caught up together with him in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and we’ll always be with the Lord.”
“Jesus is coming again?” Sam shook his head. “I don’t even know if I believe He came the first time.”
“I’m betting my eternity on it,” Andy said. “So are you, whether you do it consciously or not.”
The man stood. “I have to go back to my wife. She needs me. I just came out to get some air.” He looked at Andy, then Carl and Bree. “I appreciate you talking to me like this, but I’m not much into religion, you know?”
Andy sprang up. “We go to Brotherhood Community Church. Our service is at 11:00 tomorrow morning. If you can, try to come. At least hear the Lord out. He’s after you. He sent us to talk to you because He knows the pain you’re suffering.”
Sam nodded and offered them a weak wave. “Thanks. I’ll think about it. My wife’s getting out this afternoon, though. I don’t think I can leave her that soon.”
They watched him as he headed back up to the hospital, his head hung low.
“So much pain,” Bree whispered. “I wish you could have helped him. But I guess even a supernatural gift can’t do miracles.”
“Of course it can,” Andy said. “We planted some seeds. I’m sure of it. The Lord led us here as a team, just like He’s done with all the others. It wasn’t in vain.”
“So should we check on him later, or what?”
“Let’s just see what God urges us to do.” Andy grinned. “He’ll let Carl’s feet know.”
Already, Carl had started walking, and Bree and Andy followed.
13
THEY SAW SIX MORE PEOPLE ACCEPT CHRIST BEFORE the day was over, and planted seeds in the hearts of eight others. The next morning, Bree, Andy, and Carl showed up early for church, hoping to talk to their pastor before Sunday school and church began.
They found him in his office, going over his sermon notes. Carl knocked on the door, and the pastor looked up.
“Hey, Jim,” Carl said. “Can we talk to you for a minute?”
Jim got to his feet and laughed as he saw the three of them. “Well, sure. Come on in. I always have time for the miracle trio.”
“The miracle trio?” Bree shot Carl and Andy a look. “Why do you call us that?”
“Because that’s what you are. Pulled out of the rubble after being buried for five hours? And not one of you hurt? It’s a miracle, that’s all there is to it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Bree said. “I guess you’re right. I thought you meant . . . something else.”
“Something else?” He laughed. “Like what?”
Bree sat down, and Carl and Andy took seats on either side of her.
“Well, see, uh . . . it’s like this,” Carl began.
Andy blurted it out. “We’ve been given some real strange supernatural gifts, and we’ve been sharing Christ and seeing lost souls turn to Him all over town.”
Jim frowned. “Supernatural gifts? What do you mean?”
Andy looked at the others. “I mean . . . we can do things that we couldn’t do before. Soul-winning things. Fruit-bearing things.”
“Well, that’s great.” Jim clapped his hands. “That means you’re growing. I could tell last week when you said you were starting a Bible study at your office that you were growing and stretching. I’ve been so proud of you guys.”
“No, that’s not the kind of gift he means.” Bree shifted in her seat. “Not the plain old ordinary work-of-the-Holy-Spirit kind of gift.”
Jim laughed out loud. “The ‘plain old ordinary work of the Holy Spirit’? Bree, you’ve got to be kidding. There’s nothing about the work of the Holy Spirit that’s ordinary.”
“I just mean—”
“She means that we’re doing some really bizarre things,” Carl said. “I have this walking thing. My feet just start walking, and I find these people who need our help.”
“Well, that’s good, Carl. That’s great. We should all be willing to go where the Lord wants to send us.”
Bree wanted to shake him. “But I have this vision thing. I can look in someone’s eyes, and I see pain and lonel
iness and things in their lives that have made them into who they are.”
Clearly, Jim loved it. “The Holy Spirit is making you sensitive to other people, Bree. See? There’s nothing ordinary about that. Yes, it’s supernatural. It sure is.”
He wasn’t getting it. Bree looked at the others. “But Andy is talking, saying things he never would have said.”
“Yeah, man,” Andy piped in. “I’m quoting Scripture like crazy and teaching and explaining the gospel like I never could before.”
“Because you’ve been studying your Bible,” Jim said. “See, Andy? I told you that the more you knew, the more confidence you would have to talk to others. You’ve always had a teaching gift. That’s why I encouraged you to lead the Bible study at your office.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Stanley, the choir director, leaned in the door. “Jim, can I see you for a minute?”
He got up. “Excuse me, guys, I’ll be right back.”
When he was gone, they sat staring at each other.
“Do you believe that?” Bree asked.
Andy started to laugh. Bree joined in, and Carl followed.
“He doesn’t get it. He thinks we’re just doing regular Christian things.”
“I don’t know why,” Carl said. “We never did them before.”
“Well, maybe this is another God thing,” Andy said. “Maybe we’re not supposed to tell anyone. Maybe we’re just supposed to be obedient and keep it all to ourselves.”
Bree got up, went to the doorway, and looked out into the hall. “Do you think so?”
“I don’t know,” Carl said. “Hardly matters, though, if he isn’t hearing what we’re saying.”
Jim came back in and slipped back into his chair. “Sorry. Sound problems. We’re expecting a big crowd today, after the earthquake and all. Now, where were we?”
Andy looked at the others, then drew in a deep breath. “We just wanted to let you know that a bunch of the people who have come to Christ in the past couple of days will be visiting our church this morning.”
Jim clapped his hands together again. “Great. What are their names? I’ll make sure I meet them.”
Bree smiled. “Well, uh . . . there are about a dozen of them, I think.”
“No, fifteen, I’m pretty sure,” Carl said. “They may not all come.”
“Fifteen, if you just count the ones who gave their lives to Christ,” Andy said. “But some of the seeds God planted could take a little root. A few of those could come too. Could even be twenty or so.”
Jim straightened slowly in his chair. “You guys have talked to twenty people about Christ? What . . . did you speak to a rally this weekend or something?”
“No,” Bree said. “We’ve just used our gifts. The ones we told you about.”
Jim stood up. “This is amazing. This is just what I needed to hear. My message today is designed for the seeker and the new believer. I wanted to take the opportunity the earthquake gave us to reach those whose hearts were made tender by the disaster.”
Carl began to laugh. “Well, we’re bringing them so you can preach to them. Only some of them have some pretty serious problems. There’s a doctor who’s an alcoholic and a woman whose husband abused her.”
“The husband’s in jail,” Bree added. “And she wants us to talk to him . . . only I don’t think they’ll let us visit him until he’s been there a while.”
“There’s a man whose wife lost her baby in the quake,” Andy said. “And then there’s May—”
“May?”
“Yes. May’s an old woman we found who’d had a stroke and lay on the floor over twenty-four hours. She’s in the hospital. She might watch us from television.”
“Okay.” Jim paced back and forth. “I think I’m getting the picture now.”
Bree sighed in relief. “You are?”
“Yes. We can’t just stop with a sermon. We have to set up a kind of spiritual triage. These people are hurting. We have to rely on all of the parts of the Body. We have people who can help with grief, and others who’ve kicked alcoholism, and we have a group who does prison ministry, and there are dozens in the church who are great at serving . . . taking food and giving rides and checking on the elderly.”
Bree looked at Carl. “People with gifts that follow up where ours leave off.”
“That’s right,” Jim said. “We’re all gifted differently, for just this kind of thing. Trust the Body, Bree. Let it work. I’m so glad you gave me a heads-up this morning. I’ll use the Sunday-school hour to go around and gather up some help. Keep bringing them in, guys, and we’ll take care of them here. They won’t leave this place without knowing how much the Lord loves them.”
“Thanks, Jim. We knew we could count on you.”
“No. Thank you.” He came around the desk and hugged each of them. “One of the things you learn in seminary is that the true test of the effectiveness of your ministry is when you see your fruit bearing fruit. You’re doing it, guys. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
14
BY THE TIME BREE, CARL, AND ANDY MADE IT TO the front steps where their visitors were to meet them, Sarah Manning was already there. Her eye was still swollen and black, but it was clear that she’d tried her best to hide her injuries with the deft stroke of a make-up brush. She looked awkward and out of place.
Bree hurried toward her. “Hi, Sarah. I’m sorry I wasn’t out here sooner. I was talking to the pastor. I hope you had the chance to meet some of our members.”
“I sure did.” Sarah looked around. “That’s the problem. I’m not used to all this. I’m kind of the type that likes to keep to myself, you know? I don’t like crowds or a lot of people.” She seemed jittery, like she needed a cigarette. “I don’t know if this church thing is going to work out for me. I mean, I still want to be a Christian and all, but I just don’t know if I can do this crowd stuff every week.”
Bree looked around, wondering which of the members had insulted her. “Was someone rude to you?”
“Oh, no, they weren’t rude. I got, like, three invitations to lunch, and several invited me to sit with them. And I don’t know. I just kind of freaked out. I didn’t think I could handle it anymore. I was just about to leave.”
Relief and gratitude flooded over her. So none of them had undone her efforts with Sarah. She was just overcome by the love.
“They’re just trying to love you,” Bree said. “It’s what they do at church, at least when church is working well. Don’t hold it against them.”
“Oh, I don’t.” Sarah hugged herself. “It just blew my mind. I’ve never seen anything like that. It’s just going to take some getting used to.”
“I’ll stay with you, but please say you won’t leave. God brought you here for a reason. Some day you’ll think of these people as family.”
Sarah’s smile was tentative. “All right, I’ll stay.”
Bree wanted to hug her, but she feared making her change her mind. Behind Sarah, she saw Carl and Andy with the others who had come, and she recognized the man whose baby had died. A lump of emotion formed in her throat. She hadn’t expected to see him again.
“Come over here.” She took Sarah’s hand and led her toward them. “I have some people I want you to meet.”
She could almost feel the woman stiffening beside her as they headed to the group. But as she made the introductions, she felt Sarah relaxing. It was clear that the others were as nervous and uncomfortable as she.
Jim preached the best sermon of his life that morning. Bree sat among the people they’d met in the last couple of days. Sarah sat next to her, riveted on every word the pastor said. Her awkwardness seemed to have melted, and when the altar call came, she got up and went to the front. Bree sat stunned in her seat, amazed by the Holy Spirit’s work to make her take such a public stand. Several of the others went, as well.
When the service was over, Bree wiped her tears, then hurried to find Sarah in the back.
Sarah was dabbing
at her own eyes, but she had a serene smile on her face.
Bree had to laugh. “That took a lot of courage.”
Sarah shook her head. “I think it would have taken more courage to sit there and not go.”
“You seem more relaxed now.”
“Yeah. Church was different than I thought. I expected people to be judging me, but they weren’t, you know? They were nice.”
“Listen, why don’t you come home with my family and me and eat lunch? I mean, it won’t be much. Tuna sandwiches, probably, but the kids and my mother and I would love to have you.”
Sarah glanced at the exit door, then brought her big eyes back to Bree. “I don’t know. I’m not too good with kids.”
As if on cue, Bree’s children came running up to her. “Mom, Mom! Can we go home with Danny and his family?”
“Both of you?” she asked.
Danny’s age fell between the two of them, so they’d all been close friends since they were in the nursery together.
“Did Danny ask you, or did his parents ask?”
“His parents,” her son said. “Mom, please? We never get to do this.”
Bree had hoped to go to the hospital to look in on May today. “Well, let me talk to Danny’s parents.”
Her children ran and got Jeanine, the boy’s mother. “Let them come home with us, Bree,” Jeanine said. “Heaven knows, you need a break with all that you’ve been through lately.”
“Well, I just feel like I haven’t been spending enough time with them.”
“Mom, we can have quality time later!” Amy cried. “Come on. Let us go.”
Jeanine laughed. “We can keep them all afternoon, then bring them back to church tonight. You can take them home then. It’ll be fun. They’ll have a good time.”
Bree grinned down at her children. “Okay, but give me a kiss.” She hugged and kissed both of them, then watched them scurry off.
When they were gone, she turned back to Sarah. “Well, now that I don’t need to go home, I think I might just give my mother some quiet time to herself and walk to the hospital to visit a friend. Do you want to come? We could get a bite to eat there. My treat.”