The Heart Reader

  Sam glanced at Kate. Her grip on his arm tightened. “No, nothing like that. I don’t even know who you are.”

  The man gathered his food and turned away. “Look, I’ve got a game to watch.”

  “Sure,” Sam said, “you go ahead. But remember what I said.”

  The man started walking faster and faster, until he disappeared around a corner.

  Kate caught her breath. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I heard him,” Sam said. “He said, ‘What am I gonna tell my wife?’ That she was gonna leave him and he would be left alone. That’s his spiritual need right now. I was trying to address it.”

  “Well, that was pretty good,” Kate said. “Only next time, you might want to pick a guy who isn’t built like RoboCop. He could have smashed your face in.” She let go of his arm and stared up at him. “I’m sorry, honey, but this is a little strange. People aren’t going to accept having you just walk up to them out of the blue like that.”

  “But I was right. Didn’t you see the look on his face?”

  “Yes! That’s why it was so weird.” She lowered her voice as someone walked by. “Sam, do you really think God gave you this?”

  “Where else would I get it? I’m not psychic. I’m telling you, this is real, and it works. Just watch. You can help me,” he said. “You and I can both approach people, and you can soften what I say so I won’t intimidate them.”

  She looked as if she was about to cry again. “Sam, you know I want to. But I don’t think I can just walk up to someone and start talking like that.”

  “My emptiness is soul deep,” he heard a voice behind him say.

  Sam swung around and saw another guy at the concession stand, lurking in front of the candy window, as if that could fill him up.

  “If I could turn inside out, I’d just disappear.”

  Sam’s face twisted, and Kate stepped closer. “Did you hear something again?” she whispered.

  “Yeah. That guy over there. He said his emptiness is soul deep.”

  She looked at him, her eyes softening. “That’s sad.”

  “You got that right. Stay here. I’m gonna go talk to him.”

  Reluctantly, Kate turned to the counter as if trying to decide what to order. Sam got behind the man in the line. “How ya doing?” he asked. He reached out to shake his hand. “My name’s Sam. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “About what?” the guy asked.

  “About your soul.”

  “Oh, brother.” The guy rolled his eyes and waved him off as he started to walk away.

  “The void is so big that if you turned inside out you’d disappear,” Sam blurted.

  The man stopped cold and turned slowly around. His mouth fell open, and he tipped his head suspiciously. “Who are you?”

  Sam’s heart raced. “I’m a friend,” he said. “Someone, I think, the Lord sent to talk to you about that void.”

  The man behind the concession stand leaned over, trying to get the man’s attention. “Excuse me. May I help you?”

  The man glanced back. “Uh . . . no.” He looked back at Sam, surprise in his eyes. “Where do you want to talk?” he asked.

  “We could just step right over here,” Sam said. “It’s as good a place as any.”

  The man nodded and followed. Kate stayed back, across the corridor, watching with amazement on her face.

  The first quarter of the game had almost ended by the time Sam led the man in prayer. He met Kate’s eyes and saw that she was crying again. This time she wasn’t looking at him as if he was some kind of mental case. She was obviously awestruck.

  And so was Sam. The man had been hurting, and he needed to hear what Sam could tell him. He saw Sam as an instrument of divine intervention, and God was answering a prayer that he hadn’t even realized he’d uttered.

  The two exchanged business cards so Sam could check on him later, and as the man went back to his seat, Kate came over and reached up to hug him. “That was the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Sam felt like he was light enough to lift off into the air. “It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it? Man, if I’d known it felt this great to introduce somebody to Jesus, I’d have been doing it all along.”

  “There you are!” someone called.

  Sam looked up and saw Jeff coming up the corridor. “Man, we were wondering what happened to you. The first quarter is over. Pratt just scored a touchdown. It was beautiful. You should have seen it.”

  “I just scored one of my own,” Sam said.

  Jeff frowned and looked down at Kate, then stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I was just standing out here, and there was this guy here, and I started talking to him about Christ, and, Jeff . . . you’re not gonna believe this, but the guy accepted him. I prayed with him and everything.”

  Jeff frowned. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No, I’m not kidding. It happened. Kate saw the whole thing.”

  Jeff looked down at Kate, then back at Sam. “Man, John’s sermon Sunday must have really gotten to you.”

  He wanted to say that it had gone right in one clogged-up ear and out the other until the Lord himself had spoken, but he just grinned. “You should try it,” he said. “Everywhere you look there are people who need Christ. There are so many of them.”

  “Man, if I did that, atheism would probably soar to all-time highs.” He leaned over the concession stand and ordered a drink.

  Sam remembered what he’d heard from Jeff in the stands. “You think you can’t be used.”

  Jeff turned back. “Well . . . yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’ve got a lot of stuff in my past. Even since I became a Christian, there are a few things that would mess up my credibility.”

  “What’s that Jesus said? ‘If thy right eye offends thee, cut it out?’”

  Jeff grinned. “I’ve never heard you quote Scripture before.”

  Sam shrugged. “Man, I’ve been quoting Scripture all day. Most of it wrong, probably, but at least I’m trying. Did I get that one right?”

  “Sounds right.”

  “All I know is that there aren’t enough people out there who know about Jesus. Think how it would change their lives if they knew!”

  Jeff was beginning to look uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  “Just come with me,” Sam said. “Hang around here for a minute. You’ll see what Kate saw. It’s awesome. I’ll approach somebody and we can just start talking and . . .”

  “Man,” Jeff cut in, “I didn’t pay forty bucks for this ticket so I could spend the game back here.”

  Sam tried to hide his disappointment. “Okay, that’s fine. We can try it later.”

  “Fine,” Jeff said. He looked irritated as he paid for his drink, then turned back to Sam. “Are you coming back?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “It’s a little noisy, and my ears are feeling kind of sensitive.”

  Jeff shot Kate a look. “Is he sick?”

  “I don’t think so, Jeff.”

  He took a sip of his drink and headed back up the stairs. Kate looked up at Sam. “You know, maybe he’s not really a Christian. Maybe he just knows about Jesus. Maybe he doesn’t realize it isn’t the same thing as knowing him.”

  Sam shook his head. “No, I heard his need—it was about bearing fruit. He wouldn’t have a need like that if he wasn’t a Christian. He just doesn’t begin to know how to be used.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Sam looked down at her. “Just tell them what Jesus did for you. That’s what John told me this morning. That’s all it takes. It’s not complicated.”

  “But I can’t hear their needs,” she said. “I don’t have the edge you have.”

  “Yes, you do. I can tell you what I hear.”

  A woman walked up to get a straw, and his words trailed off as he heard her voice. “I can’t trust anyone. No one can be counted on. I need someone to tell me what to do, but there isn’t anyone.”


  “Talk to her,” Sam said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Go up to her and start a conversation.”

  Kate looked terrified. “I wouldn’t know what to say. What did you hear?”

  “She can’t trust anyone; she needs someone to tell her what to do. Go on, Kate, talk to her.”

  “But Sam . . .”

  “Kate, God is giving you an opportunity. You’re not going to blow it, are you?”

  “That’s not fair,” she said. “He gave you the opportunity, not me.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m gonna go over there and talk to that guy in a minute. And if you can talk to her and I can talk to him, in a very short time, we might just lead two people to Christ.”

  Kate looked over at the woman. She was gathering her food on a tray and was turning to leave. “I can’t do it!” she whispered. Sam looked down at her. “You can honestly know what she’s feeling inside, that she’s hurting, and not do anything about it? You’re a nurse. If she were to drop from a heart attack, you’d bolt forward and do CPR. What is the difference?”

  Kate watched as the woman walked over to the other counter to get ketchup. She shot Sam a look, took a deep breath, and moved toward her. “Excuse me!”

  The woman turned around.

  “Uh . . .” Kate had an expression on her face that said her mind had gone blank and she couldn’t think of another word. “You . . . you look like you have your hands full. I’d be glad to help if I could.”

  The woman gave her a suspicious look. “That’s okay. I’ve got it. I’m not going far.”

  Kate glanced self-consciously back at Sam. He winked at her, then started toward the other guy at the counter.

  “Look, I know this is weird,” he heard her say. “But I just had this sense . . . that you need someone to talk to but you can’t trust anyone, and well . . . I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I’m a good listener and . . .”

  Sam grinned as he reached the man.

  “If only someone bigger was in control,” the man was saying, “and I wasn’t at the mercy of that tyrant I work for.”

  Sam reached for the straws on the table and accidentally knocked them over. The man squatted and started helping him pick them up. “I’ve been so clumsy today,” Sam said. He extended his hand. “Sam Bennett.”

  And as they began a conversation, Sam told him who was really in control.

  8

  Sam didn’t return to the stands until the game was almost over. His friends, who usually gave each other the benefit of the doubt no matter how bizarre one of them acted, each asked Kate privately if Sam was all right. They were good guys, all of them. The four of them, plus John, their pastor, had become close at a Promise Keepers rally three years earlier. After that, they’d formed an accountability group that met once a week in Bill’s office. They prayed for each other diligently and held each other mildly accountable for their Christian walk. But it occurred to Sam as they pushed through the crowd out into the parking lot that none of them had been very fruitful over the years. They’d stayed cloistered in their own little group and had done essentially nothing to reach out to people in need.

  As they reached their cars, Kate turned back. “Look, I think I’ll just go on home. I’m pretty whipped from working so hard today. Sam, can you ride home with one of the guys?”

  Sam shot her a look and started to tell her not to go, but then he realized he needed this time to talk seriously with his friends.

  “I’ll take him home,” Bill said.

  “All right. I’ll see you guys later.” She reached up and pressed a kiss on Sam’s lips, then whispered, “Be careful.” He watched her as she got into the car, then he rejoined his friends. “So what’s this about you standing in the corridor the whole game, leading people to Christ?” Bill asked as they headed to his car.

  “Man, I know it sounds crazy, and you probably won’t believe it. But I’ve just had the most incredible day. I took the day off today and spent it with John. We met all these people and visited in the hospital. He was telling people about Christ left and right, and I got in on the act. It was the most amazing thing.”

  Bill’s eyes twinkled as he took in the story. “It sounds great, man, but do you really think somebody who prays a prayer in a football stadium really knows what they’re getting into?”

  Sam frowned. “What do you mean ‘what they’re getting into’?”

  “Don’t you think you’re selling them an easy believe-ism? A repeat-after-me kind of faith?”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” Sam said. “They need Jesus Christ, and I’m trying to show them where they can find him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bill said. “I don’t mean to be a wet blanket. I just think that sometimes when things come that easy, maybe they really haven’t come at all.” They reached his car and he unlocked the door. All the guys climbed in.

  “All I know,” Sam said, settling into the backseat next to Jeff, “is that we meet once a week and we talk about God and all the things he’s doing in our lives, and we ask for prayer for each other, and we do devotionals, but how many of us have really influenced anyone else?”

  They were all quiet as Bill pulled into the line of traffic waiting to leave the stadium. “There’s a harvest out there, and God needs workers,” Sam said.

  “I just believe I can influence people with my life,” Steve said, looking over his shoulder. “At work, people know I’m different. They tell me all the time, and then I’m able to share with them that God is the difference.”

  “How many times has that happened?” Sam asked, genuinely wondering. “I’m not criticizing, really. Just curious. How many times has someone come up and asked you what’s different about you?”

  Steve thought for a moment. “Well, last year, people commented on how I behaved when Joan had cancer. Several people mentioned it.”

  “And what did you tell them?” Sam asked.

  “I told them I relied on my faith to get me through.”

  “Did you tell them about Jesus? Did you pray with them?”

  “No, I didn’t have to.”

  “Are those people Christians today?”

  Steve was getting angry. “What are you trying to do, man? Pick a fight?”

  Sam sighed. “No, nothing like that. I’m trying to point out to you how lame it is just to hope that somebody will figure it out by the look on our faces.” The other two guys were acting peeved, too, so Sam backed off for a moment as Bill pulled into the Shoney’s parking lot. They were quiet as they went in. Sam closed his eyes, wishing he couldn’t hear the waitress’s soul saying how powerless and worthless she was. He tried to block out the sound of the man he passed who thought no one cared about him, or the mother who thought life was too chaotic, or the girl whose fear was an overwhelming dread in her heart, or the old man who rued the fact that he could never make anything of himself. All the needs, all the fears, all the dread, all the emptiness. His eyes burned with emotion as he reached the table and sat down.

  There are so many people in here, he thought. I would never have time to go to them one by one and address their needs. He needed helpers. He needed others to share the burden.

  They sat down and the other three guys quietly began looking at the menu. “Look,” Sam said. “Look around you at everyone in here. That girl over there, she’s scared to death. Feels like life is just too big for her, pressing down on her and she can’t breathe.”

  Bill glanced over at the girl. She didn’t look hopeless at all. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “And that old man over there,” Sam said, “he thinks he’ll never make anything of himself.”

  “Well, if he hasn’t already,” Jeff said, “then he probably never will.”

  “He can realize that God has already made him valuable by creating him in God’s image, that he’s special because somebody died for him. He can be a saint and a joint heir with Christ. We have that information. Why are we withholding it from him?
”

  “Withholding?” Steve asked. “Come on, Sam. You’re being a little melodramatic.”

  “Somebody needs to tell him, Steve,” Sam said. “And see that woman over there? She thinks nobody cares about her. She feels all alone. And the waitress who brought us to the table feels completely insignificant.”

  Steve looked at him with disgust. “How do you know these things?”

  “I just know,” Sam said. “Every single person in here has a spiritual need. Take you three for instance . . . you need to be fruitful and do the work that Christ started. But no, you don’t do it. And so your need isn’t being fulfilled. You’re the one standing in your own way. Not the church, not your jobs, not anything. Just you.”

  Bill looked down at the menu, his jaw popping. Steve stared across the table at him, still disgusted. Next to him, Jeff began tapping his fingers. “Sam, we just wanted to go out and have a good time. Watch a ball game. Crack a few jokes. Why do you have to make this so heavy?”

  “Because people are dying,” Sam said. “There’s a hell and it’s real and people are going there. Someone in this room may not make it home tonight.”

  Bill slammed his hand down on the table. The patrons around them looked up. “Since when are you so worried about people’s souls?” he whispered harshly.

  “It should have happened when I became a Christian,” Sam said. “But it actually didn’t happen until this morning.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Steve said. “You went out with John this morning and told a few people about Christ, and now you think you’re the apostle Paul?”

  “No, I don’t think anything like that,” he said. “I’m a Christian. Bottom line. That’s it. That’s all there is.”

  The waitress interrupted and took their orders, and Sam looked up at her, desperately wanting to tell her that she was valuable, that she was precious in the sight of her maker. But he was in the middle of making a point with his friends, and he couldn’t decide which was more important.

  She went around the table and took their orders for coffee and soft drinks. When the waitress had scurried away, he looked around at each of them. “Let’s make a plan,” he said. “Tomorrow night, we drop whatever we’re doing, we go out to the mall or a Laundromat or the hospital, somewhere . . . and we start talking to people about Jesus.”