She sat up in the blackness, hating what this outage had done to her. It had caused tension in her marriage, made her angry and brooding. She and Doug were moving through their days like business partners rather than lovers. Loneliness enveloped her.
She got out of bed, slipped into her bedroom slippers, and felt her way through the house. She saw a yellow glow coming from the study, and stepped into the doorway.
Doug sat at his desk, studying the Bible that lay open before him, under the glow of the kerosene lamp.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He looked up at her, and she saw the dark circles under his eyes. “No. You either?”
She shook her head. “It’s too dark, if you can believe that.”
He smiled and reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. She melted like butter when he did that. Sliding her arms around his neck, she kissed him.
It had been a long time since it was just the two of them.
Keeping her head against his, she looked down at his Bible. “Find any answers there?”
“Yeah. Even some I didn’t want to see.”
“Oh yeah?”
He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “We’re doing this all wrong, Kay. All the hoarding, all the clinging. I was just flipping through, trying to find relevant passages. Trying to understand what God might be doing, and what He might want from us.”
“And?”
“And Matthew 5 and 6 kind of hit me between the eyes.”
She looked at the page. “The Sermon on the Mount?”
“That’s right. It’s full of stuff we need right now. Like in chapter 5, verse 42. ‘Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.’ ”
“But, Doug, that’s for a time of normalcy. We’re in survival mode. If we gave to everyone who asked for something, we might not have what our family needs. I understand why you didn’t want me to give the bike away.”
“And I understand why you didn’t want me to give the gun. But look at chapter 6, verses 25 through 34.”
Kay almost didn’t want to know what it said. Grudgingly, she looked down at the passage, and began to read: “ ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?’ ” She paused and looked up.
“Go on,” Doug said.
“ ‘Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?’ ”
She stopped reading and got off of Doug’s lap, moved across the room to a chair in the shadows.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She sighed. “It’s not that simple. People all over the world go hungry. They starve to death. I know God can feed them, but sometimes He doesn’t.”
“Sometimes He sends us to do it.” Doug’s eyes held hers.
“So what do you want us to do? Give away all our food? Put our family in jeopardy?”
“I don’t know.” He looked back down at the passage. “Look what Jesus said here: ‘Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’ ”
Kay pulled her feet up beneath her. “Boy, that’s for sure.”
Doug rubbed his tired eyes. “Kay, I know you hate uncertainty. I do, too. I hate not knowing what’s going on, why this happened. I hate wondering how I’m going to provide for the family, when I’ve always been able to do a good job of that before. But I think God is telling us something tonight. He’s saying that we don’t need to worry. We need to have faith. And we need to give to the people around us who have needs. Instead of worrying, we need to be seeking His kingdom and His righteousness.”
Kay came back out of the shadows and sat on the desk, just inside the circle of light. “I want to be a Christian in this, Doug. If there’s some kind of test He’s putting us through, I want to pass it. But how? What does it mean to seek Him first? I’ve always thought it meant starting your day reading the Bible and praying, going to church, thinking about Him. But what does it mean in this context? When people are out there looting and killing, and all the things we’ve relied on aren’t working? When our minds are so full of all the stuff that has to get done, how do we seek Him first?”
Doug studied the passage again. “It says to seek His kingdom and His righteousness. Maybe that means that we look at this as an opportunity. Maybe we see it as a way to do His kingdom work. What would Jesus do if He were here? He wouldn’t be hoarding, I’ll tell you that. He’d be out going door-to-door to see who needed what. He’d help people. He’d show them love. And because He loved them, they’d want to follow Him.”
She sighed. “Is that why God let this happen? To see if we had it in us to be like Christ?”
“Why wouldn’t He let it happen? There are countries where most of the population functions without electricity. Why are we so special? He knows we can get by without it. He might just want to see what we’re made of.”
“I think He might be disappointed.”
“We might be disappointed in ourselves. But we need to think about what He wants to teach us in all this. And we need to be ready to learn it.”
Kay started to cry, and Doug reached up and wiped the tear from her cheek. She caught his hand and pressed it against her face.
“What if we used this as an opportunity for God’s kingdom, Kay? What if we didn’t see it as being about us, but about them? In Matthew 5, He talks about being salt and light. What if we really were salt and light, Kay? What would we do?”
Kay laced her fingers through Doug’s and wiped her tears. They were tears of purpose, like the tears she cried in church, when the preacher talked of their kingdom work, and reminded them that they were to continue the work that Jesus started.
“I’ve always thought I trusted Jesus,” she whispered. “But it was kind of easy, living in a four-thousand-square-foot house, parking my Expedition next to your Mercedes, cooking in a state-of-the-art kitchen and relaxing in the air-conditioning, in front of twenty-four-hour television that entertained us and informed us about everything going on in the world.”
“Now’s your chance to show that you trust Him without all that stuff, too.”
Her face twisted as she met his eyes. “I hope it’s true. I hope I do.”
His smile warmed her. “There’s one way to find out. It’s time to start storing up our treasures in heaven, instead of hoarding them on earth.” He got up and pulled her into his arms, and held her while she cried. Then, sweeping her hair back from her face, he whispered, “I think we need to pray. If we have willing hearts, we need a plan. And I don’t have a clue how to start.”
She pressed her forehead against his, and slid her arms around his neck. “You’re right. Let’s ask God how.”
Clinging to each other, they began to pray.
thirty-two
The windup watch that Doug had found in the back of his dresser drawer said it was seven a.m. From his children’s reaction when he tried to wake them, one would have thought it was still dark.
They assembled at the kitchen table in the light of the bay window, looking bleary-eyed and disheveled as they munched on the last of the Pop-Tarts.
“Dad, why can’t w
e sleep late every now and then?” Deni muttered. “Everybody else in their right mind is sleeping.”
“Yeah—” Beth yawned—“why can’t we just sleep?”
“Because we have work to do,” Doug said. “We need to get an early start.”
“Work?” Jeff spoke with his mouth full. “Dad, if I had more sleep I could work harder. I don’t even get a whole night’s sleep. Shouldn’t I get to sleep in?”
Doug almost felt guilty. It was true that Jeff had it worse than the rest of them. But he needed his help more than the others.
He looked from one child to the other. How would he ever motivate them? Deni looked hungover, as if she’d just come in from a wild party the night before. Jeff looked almost as bad. He hunched over his Pop-Tart, his hair stringing into his eyes. He needed to shave as badly as Doug did.
They could all stand a bath. All except Deni, whose hair looked cleaner than the rest of theirs. The sweat from the last few days had left a sour smell on their skin and in their clothes. Their sponge baths with lake water had left a lot to be desired. Doug was glad when Kay opened the door to let some air circulate.
Beth looked bored, as if she had little interest in whatever her parents were going to say, and Logan, the one who seemed the most awake, flipped through a comic book he’d brought from his room.
Doug reached over and took it away from him. “I need to talk to you, and I want you to pay attention.”
All eyes settled on him, annoyed.
“Guys, I’ve been thinking about our situation. It’s been ten days and the power hasn’t come back on. I’m guessing it’s not likely to any time soon. Some people are getting desperate by now, and others are hoarding.”
“People like us?” Beth said.
“Yes, exactly,” he said, proud that she’d seen it. “People like us. But God dealt with your mom and me during the night, and we’ve realized that, as Christians, we’re supposed to act differently.”
“Uh-oh.” Deni wiped her fingers on her paper towel. “Here it comes.” Sighing, she tipped her head. “Different how?”
“I’m going to tell you. But first, is it all right for me to assume that everyone at this table is a Christian?”
They looked at each other as if they were insulted.
“Deni?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. You were there when I went down the aisle and got baptized.”
“Was it real? In your heart, real?”
She huffed. “Yes, Dad. I’m a Christian, all right? You raised me that way. I’ve been indoctrinated.”
Doug didn’t know how to interpret that. “Wow. That sounds really sincere.”
She looked away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you can’t really be raised in this family without being a Christian, you know? That’s all I meant.”
“Being from a Christian family doesn’t make you a Christian any more than sitting in a garage—”
“Makes you a car,” Jeff finished. They’d heard it a million times.
Doug looked at Jeff now, since he’d jumped into the conversation. “And since you understand that principle, where do you stand?”
“I’m a Christian, Dad.” He sounded as defensive as his sister. “It’s not like we’re drug addicts. We haven’t given you reason to doubt us.”
“I’m not doubting. I just want to hear it.”
Beth spoke up. “I’m a Christian, Dad.”
“Good, Beth.”
“See?” She made a face at her brother. “He didn’t even have to question me.”
Doug met Kay’s eyes. She shook her head.
“What about you, Logan?”
Logan got on his knees in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. “Hello–o. Weren’t you there when I got baptized at Easter?”
“Yes, I was there.”
Deni gave him that sour look she reserved for those she loved most. “Hey, punk, you can come out of that water just as dirty as you went in.”
“Well, I didn’t, moron!” he shouted across the table. “I came up clean. Didn’t I, Mom?”
Kay didn’t answer. She looked almost amused, but struggled not to show it. “You were saying, honey?”
Doug took back the baton. “Okay, so it’s established, pretty much, that we’re all Christians.”
“You didn’t ask Mom,” Jeff pointed out.
“I’m confident in your mother’s sincerity, since she puts up with me. That’s the greatest act of charity I’ve ever seen.”
The kids moaned, and Beth pretended to gag.
“So if we’re all Christians, then we’ll all be interested in what the Bible says about our situation.”
“The Bible talks about this?” Deni asked. “Where?”
“In the Sermon on the Mount.” He turned his Bible to the passage he and Kay had been reading, and read to them about being salt and light, trusting God to provide for them, giving away what people asked for. When he finished, he looked up at the four of them.
“What are you gonna make us do?” Jeff asked.
Doug left the Bible open, but he crossed his hands over it. “In light of what we’ve just read, our family is going to approach this thing differently today. We’re going to be proactive. We’re going to think of this as an opportunity instead of a crisis.”
Deni propped her chin on her hand and narrowed her eyes. “An opportunity for what?”
“An opportunity to shine for Christ. We’re going to realize that God put us here for a purpose, in this exact time, in this exact neighborhood, and we’re going to fulfill that purpose.”
“Like Esther,” Kay said. “Maybe we’re here for such a time as this.”
“Esther who?” Deni asked.
“Queen Esther from the Bible, genius,” Jeff said.
Doug sighed, but pressed on. “It’s going to take all of us, working together. Today, we’re going around to every house in the neighborhood. We’re going to ask everyone to write down what they need and what they can share. Then we’re going to tell them to come to the lake after dinner for another neighborhood meeting. We’ll work out the exchanges, talk about what’s happening, maybe get the sheriff to come for an update.”
Deni folded her arms. “What if they need what we have?”
“Then we’ll give it to them. Or maybe someone else can. We’ll try to work it out so that no one has to do without, but everyone has what they need.”
“There are a lot of houses out here, Dad,” Logan said. “We’re gonna do all of them?”
“That’s right. I looked in my files where I keep all the Homeowners’ Association newsletters. We have sixty-three homes here. We’ll go in groups of two. Deni, you and Jeff go together. I’ll take Beth, and Mom will take Logan.”
“I want to go with Jeff!” Logan said. “I’m not some little kid who needs to be with his mommy.”
“And please don’t make me go with Jeff!” Deni cried. “Come on, Dad, he’ll embarrass me. Let me take Beth.”
“Yeah, I want to go with Deni!”
Kay looked at Doug. “What does it really matter?”
Doug shrugged. “All right. Jeff and Logan, Beth and Deni, and Mom and me. But I don’t want any of you alone at any time. Don’t split up. Got it? And don’t go into anyone’s house.”
They all agreed.
“Each of you take a legal pad for writing down things that people tell you. Needs they have, things they can share. But don’t try to carry the stuff yourself. Tell them to bring what they can share to the lake tonight if they can. If they can’t, we’ll try to work it out where they can make the exchanges themselves. That way we get everybody involved.”
“This is a good plan,” Logan said, catching the vision.
“It could work,” Deni conceded.
Doug felt encouraged by that. They sat down with the map of the neighborhood and divided up the streets. Then they armed each pair with legal pads and pens.
Before he sent them out, they stood in a circle, holding hands and praying that God w
ould protect them and use them for his purposes today.
thirty-three
Deni was one of the first to arrive at the lake that afternoon, despite her exhaustion from the grueling day of getting the word out. She’d planned to stay home while the neighbors had their swap meet, but then her father came home with news that Sheriff Scarbrough had agreed to come to answer questions about the murder investigation. Almost as important, Hank Huckabee, the Homeowners’ Association president, had just gotten back into town. He’d been in Washington, D.C., when the power went out, and was full of news about the state of the country. He planned to share it all tonight.