New Heart Church

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New Heart Church Page 37

by Jim Barringer


  Chapter Four

  Stanley was outside when I pulled into the parking lot twelve hours later. He watched me make the turn, and I didn’t make eye contact with him, because what face could I make that would sum up everything I was thinking?

  He was waiting for me when I opened the truck’s door, though. “Welcome back, Eli.”

  It hit me, then, the full strength of what had happened, the rejection I felt and the pain of opening my heart to my dad only to have it shot through, and I leaned back against the truck.

  “I take it things didn’t go quite the way you planned.”

  I told him. I’d never seen him so deep in thought as he heard me tell about the flat tire, the first feud with my dad, the talk with mom, the second fight with dad.

  “I just can’t believe he reacted that way,” I finished. “I’ve never known him to fly off the handle for any reason. I could see him getting angry, sure, but kicking me out of the house? That’s way over the top and I don’t understand it at all.”

  “Over the top is right,” agreed Stanley. “That’s just absurd. You must have hit him where it hurt.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Nobody reacts that way to a new idea. I mean, look at how you reacted when you and I started talking about the same kinds of things. If you were cocky, confident in the way you were doing life, you might not have listened when I started talking about a better way. You might have been annoyed at me, or confused, but you wouldn’t have gotten angry. You got angry because you were already thinking those same thoughts. I don’t know why it works like that, but it does. Anger only comes when you tell a person something they already fear might be true.”

  “Oh. That makes sense, I guess.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I would bet he’s had some of those same thoughts and regrets himself lately.”

  “Then why wouldn’t he want my forgiveness? Why did he pass up the chance to have a friendship with me, if that’s what he’s really wanted all along?” I put my hand to my forehead. “I don’t get it.”

  “Free forgiveness is hard to accept, son,” Stanley said gently. “The hardest thing about walking with God is understanding that grace is free and you don’t owe God anything. It’s really easy to go through life still feeling like you need to pay God back. You told me you thought that was why I’m so busy with ministry stuff, and I think you’re right. But either way, free love and free forgiveness are intimidating. That’s not how the world works most of the time.”

  “I just don’t get it,” I repeated dejectedly.

  “Do you think your visit was a success?”

  “Stanley, are you dense? After this conversation?”

  “I think it was a success.” His brown eyes found mine, and he smiled. “You went for the purpose of talking to your parents about love and forgiveness, right?”

  “Right…”

  “And you did that, right?”

  “Yeah, I did, but they –”

  “But nothing. You did what you went to do. Listen close, Eli, cause this is important. You can’t judge your success or failure by other people. You had no control over how you parents responded to you. All you could do was say what you came to say, and you did that. Success. It’s that simple.”

  I leaned back against the truck, looking up at the sky and exhaling. “It feels like it shouldn’t be that simple.”

  “Don’t go by your feelings, Eli. You know they don’t always tell you the truth. Take it up with God, if you want to. Ask what he thinks. I think you know what the answer will be.” Stanley checked his wristwatch. “I have to go, though. Can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas eve than flying to New York.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot all about that. I’ll be praying for you, Stanley.”

  He slapped my shoulder and moved past me toward his car, where a big piece of luggage was waiting in the backseat. He might have been right about my trip being a success, but I wished him more success than I’d had.

  On the way back up to my room, I ran into Danny coming down the stairs. Like Stanley, he seemed perplexed to see me back so soon, and like I’d done with Stanley, I’d told him the whole story. Right there in the stairwell, occasionally interrupted by someone brushing past us, I explained what had happened and what Stanley had told me.

  “Come on upstairs,” he said. “Elizabeth has some friends over, but we can go to the church’s room.”

  A few minutes later, with the halogen lights overhead flickering to life, Danny and I sat across the aisle from each other. “Got two pieces of news for you,” he told me. “First, we weren’t expecting you to be in town, obviously, but you’re welcome to come spend Christmas with Elizabeth and me. We don’t really celebrate it the way most people do, but we’re going to have a nice ham dinner together. Abbie’s coming, too. Does she know you’re back in town yet?”

  “No, I just got in ten minutes ago.”

  “Alright. Second piece of news, though. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of sending the magazine that one article you wrote about how you became a Christian. They love it and they want to print it. Cover stories pay twenty-five hundred dollars. The check will be in the mail soon and the story will run sometime around March.”

  I sat back in disbelief. “That’s some serious news.”

  “It is. I’m a little jealous, actually. They’ve never asked me for a cover story. But whatever,” he added with an easy smile, “my heart beats for this church and I wouldn’t want writing to interfere with that anyway.”

  “It’s good that you know what your mission in life is. For all the progress I’ve made, I’m still no closer to knowing.”

  “I think it will come in time. God’s only had a couple of weeks to work on you, after all. Maybe it’s writing, who knows. Or maybe he’ll tell me the church needs a worship leader. You’re curious, at least; you want to know the answer, and that’s a good thing. It’ll come.”

  “Yeah. I just have to remind myself.”

  “That’s right.” Danny glanced at the stage. “Have you ever wondered why you're living here for free, Eli?”

  “Cause my aunt Helen is still paying the rent.”

  “Yeah, but why would she do a thing like that?” His eyes shifted to me, and he smiled at my confusion. “Why would she move clear off to Arizona and keep paying for an apartment in Fort Worth?”

  “She didn't want to pay the fee for breaking her lease?”

  “Not quite. It's because she was hoping to come back here. Not just to the building. To the church.” His gaze drifted back toward the stage now. “Can you play that song you wrote one more time?”

  My guitar was still up on the stage, so I strapped it on and turned on my amp while Danny powered up the PA system. I strummed through the intro, thinking about the words and how much more they meant to me today, just a few days later, than they had the first time I’d sung it in this room.

  And I sang it with feeling, turning the words over in my mind before they came out my mouth, grateful to God for being my shepherd, my rest, my protector. When I finished, I set the guitar down. “I think I need to go spend some time alone for a while.”

  “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. See you tomorrow.”

  I hadn’t actually told him I was coming, but both he and I knew that I had no reason not to be there. Back in my room, I sat on the bed to think, but I was falling asleep almost instantly, the weight of the last few days bowling me over now that I was back in a place where I could rest. Part of me still kept hoping the phone would ring, my dad’s voice on the other end, wanting to talk. Even without that, though, Stanley was right; I had said what I went to say, and mom, at least, was on the same page with me.

  My eyelids drifted down and blocked out the golden twilight streaming in the window.

 

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