Eating the Fruit of Lies

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Eating the Fruit of Lies Page 9

by Sandra Thompson Williams


  With a brief case in one hand and a grocery bag in the other, he tried to maneuver the outer door to his apartment building. A young man standing on the inside of the building saw him and came to his rescue.

  “Thanks a lot,” David said.

  “Don’t mention it,” replied the young man. “I was just standing here waiting for my wife to get home.”

  “Then we’re neighbors,” David said. “I’m David Edwards, I met your wife shortly after you moved in.”

  “Oh yes, she mentioned that. I’m Michael McCain. I was in such a rush that I locked my keys in the car. That’s why I’m standing in the hall,” he explained.

  “Well, you’re certainly welcome to wait in my apartment,” David offered.

  “That will be great. Brenda should be home within the hour,” he said. David put the key in the door and let Michael McCain in.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said as he put the groceries on the kitchen counter. “Don’t ask me why, but I’m in the mood for chili,” David admitted. “I stopped at the grocer and picked up all the ingredients. I can never quite remember what I have or don’t have in my cabinet.”

  “I’m a fan of chili too,” Michael said. “Brenda has a special recipe for making it real spicy.”

  “She must be a good cook,” David said.

  “Oh, she’s a great cook, when she’s got the time to spend in the kitchen,” her husband said.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you two been married?” David asked.

  “Five years; hey you’ve got nice furniture,” he said changing the subject. David knew then that Michael wasn’t going to volunteer any information about his private life. He thought he could try another tactic to get him to open up.

  “Hey, since you both like chili, why don’t you join me for dinner tonight? I always cook enough for at least six, because I never learned to cook for one person,” David explained.

  “Well, if it’s alright with Brenda, it’s fine with me,” Michael said. “I guess it just depends on how tired she is. Are you much of a sports fan?” Michael inquired, while looking out the window at his car.

  “I’m a basketball enthusiast. I also like to shoot hoops at the gym when I can,” said David, as he started pulling out a skillet and a pot to start the chili.

  “When I was a little younger I used to play a lot with my father,” David said; “but that came to a sudden stop.”

  “Did your Dad die?” asked Michael. “No,” said David, “something worse than death. He separated from my mother two years ago.”

  Michael looked a little stunned. “You mean leaving your mother is worse than dying?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Sure,” said David. “Dying is something you do when you can’t help it. Separation and divorce are both choices you make,” he said with confidence.

  Michael put the coat down that he had been holding and came closer to the kitchen area.

  “So are you saying that you would prefer that your father was dead?”

  “Not at all,” David said. “What I’m saying is that death is more honorable than the stigma attached to a man who walks out on his family. He can be rich and he can be successful, but somebody, somewhere will always say, I remember when he walked out on his family.”

  “So what do you suggest a man should do when he can’t stand to be married anymore, shoot himself?” They both laughed, just as the onion started to sizzle in the skillet.

  “I can only answer from the perspective of a Christian,” David said.

  “Alright then, what does a Christian man do?” Michael asked.

  “Well, it’s just my own opinion, but I think a Christian man has to examine himself to see when and where he stopped planting his fruit seeds.”

  “Fruit seeds?” Michael repeated as if the term was foreign.

  “Yes,” said David. “In my Bible study at church I learned that there remains two times in the earth: planting time and harvest time. This principle is alive and working in every area of our lives. In marriage, seeds of kindness, forgiveness, longsuffering, etc. are planted. If you stop planting these seeds but continue to need those things, there is a great deficit. Instead of having a bumper crop, you will have a famine and therefore divorce is the only option you will see.”

  “But doesn’t marriage take two individuals who want this healthy crop?” Michael asked.

  “Well, I’ll put it this way,” David said. “The harvest comes much easier and faster when one plants and one waters. But that’s where faith and steadfastness comes in. You’ve got to be willing to plant and water too, if necessary, to keep your marriage alive. But that takes work and patience and many couples choose not to invest in their marriage because there are other options available.”

  “Did I ask you what you do for a living?” Michael asked. “You must be a minister.”

  “No, I’m a Christian counselor,” David said.

  “Well, that explains your wealth of knowledge. I’m a high school administrator,” Michael said.

  “Hey, that looks like Brenda’s car. I’ll check with her about dinner,” he said, as he grabbed his coat.

  “Thanks for letting me hangout.”

  The door closed and David could hear their muffled voices in the hallway. He dropped his head and said a prayer of thanksgiving. Not only had a door been suddenly opened, but for the last few minutes he had been able to start to minister in a way he had not done before. He was pretty sure they would be back for a chili dinner, but he had so much more to offer them than spicy beans and beef.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dinner was not quite the same in the Taylor household this week day evening. While most of the talking lately had been done by Sister Marie, even she seemed noticeably distracted. Before Rose’s breakup with David, she kept her Dad and stepmother abreast of her plans to have a simple wedding with an elegant reception. She’d bring magazines to the dinner table with the latest fashions and she would ask their opinion on certain wedding traditions. Since the breakup, she talked more about the weather than anything personal. It was quite apparent that her private life was not to be discussed.

  Pastor Taylor always ate engrossed in deep thought about the next sermon or an organizational meeting.

  “What’s on your mind tonight honey?” he said, without looking up, as he carefully cut his chicken breast into small bite sized pieces.

  “Nothing,” answered Rose.

  He smiled at his daughter sweetly as he replied, “I wasn’t talking about you sweetheart.”

  “Oh,” she said, with a giggle that hid her embarrassment.

  “I’ve just been a little confused about the fellowship meetings that have been taking place,” Sister Marie said, stabbing at her overcooked broccoli.

  “I thought you said the meetings had been very productive,” he said in an interrogative way.

  “Oh they have,” she quickly responded. “It’s not the meeting that concerns me as much as the people who attend them.”

  “Wait a minute honey,” he said. “You told me yourself that the people were hand-picked by you. How can there be a problem, if you invited them?”

  “Honey, I told you in the beginning that this ministry was birthed out of a word that came to me in prayer. The Lord had me to hand pick all married women but two. I’m just still wondering why He included the two single women.”

  “Maybe they’re engaged,” Rose said.

  “No, I kind of doubt that, after talking with them in the meeting,” Sister Marie said.

  “Well we could suggest answers from now until next week and still not figure out God’s mind,” Pastor Taylor said. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. When is your next meeting taking place?” he asked.

  “Saturday at eleven,” she answered. “I sure would like to be a fly on the wall at one of those meetings,” the pastor quipped.

  “That’s just too bad honey because these meetings are for women only, with no exceptions,” she said laughing. “You’ll ha
ve to start a club of your own.”

  “Somehow, I find it difficult to imagine Dad as a member of anybody’s club,” Rose said.

  “What’s so strange about imagining me in a club?” he asked.

  “You speak whatever is on your mind Dad,” Rose said. “Clubs don’t like that. They want you to be in agreement with the way the entire body feels,” she explained.

  “Maybe that’s why God called me to preach,” he said. “I don’t have to agree with anyone except God.”

  “How do you know, you’re always agreeing with him?” Rose asked.

  “By His Word, honey. I always have to line up with His Word,” he said, as he pushed his chair back to get up. “Dinner was delicious honey,” he said, giving his usual official blessing of what he had eaten before leaving the room. He always finished dinner first.

  Sister Marie turned her attention to Rose. “How’s your chicken, Rose?” she asked.

  “Oh it’s very good,” she answered, although she had picked at it throughout the meal.

  “How do you like the potatoes?” Sister Marie asked.

  “They are very tasty and so is the broccoli and the corn bread. I think I’ve lived with you long enough to know that you have something you want to say to me and I’m sure that it has nothing to do with tonight’s dinner,” she said, putting down her fork to look directly at Sister Marie.

  “Alright, you’re much smarter than I give you credit for. I’d like to invite you to this Saturday’s women’s fellowship.”

  “Alright, I’ll be there,” she said. “Don’t faint from shock. I know you expected me to give you a hard time. But I know if I said no, you wouldn’t give up, because as you put it, you are on a mission or you heard from God or something like that. I’ll come so I can get it over with.”

  “Thanks Rose,” she said as she started clearing the table. “You just made my mission a little easier.”

  When Friday came, David’s routine was just a little different. He awoke before his alarm went off, probably because he hadn’t slept well. He hadn’t dreamed, or at least he didn’t remember any. There was just so much on his mind. His father’s plans, his sister’s song and his neighbor’s situation. He was still ecstatic about them joining him for that chili dinner. It was even more productive than he had hoped, since they disclosed that they had a few marital concerns. He was careful not to push too hard, as he tried to generalize about how he had counseled people who were in similar situations. He knew he couldn’t take any credit for any of the things that had been happening in his favor.

  During his hour of prayer, he now specifically prayed for the debt that was plaguing his neighbors and adding to their problems. They told him they had lost their home and had to move into the apartment until they could again get financially stable. Neither of them seemed to remember when they got above their heads in purchases. David couldn’t tell them, but he knew that it was when they were told they probably wouldn’t have children that the trouble started. They had borrowed money to travel to a number of exotic and fancy vacation spots. He found it interesting that the subject of children never came up. There are only so many things that you will tell a stranger.

  It seemed his hour of prayer was getting more specific each day. Yet it was a sweet hour, because there was something humbling about praying for the needs of others. He felt compelled, even driven, to stand in the gap for hurting people, in spite of the fact that he was hurting too. Yet, after prayer, he always left his room with a sense of being sustained by nothing less than the power of Jesus Christ.

  Today he opened his Bible and his eyes fell on Daniel 2:28. But there is a God in heaven that revealeth secrets, and maketh known to the King Nebuchadnezzar what shall be in the latter days. Thy dream and the visions of thy head upon thy bed are these; As for thee, O King, thy thoughts came into thy mind upon thy bed, what should come to pass hereafter: and he that revealeth secrets maketh known to thee what shall come to pass.

  David closed the book and returned to his bed to meditate on the passage. It was nearly time to get up and prepare for work. Just as he closed his eyes, the telephone rang. Startled by the piercing of the silence, he jumped up and grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello,” he said wondering with anticipation who would respond on the other end.

  “David, it’s Dad,” the voice said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I was awake. Is there something wrong?” David asked.

  “Well, I’m fine physically, I just haven’t slept much since our lunch meeting. I think I was too upset to call you the first couple of days. I keep thinking about what you said to me, about discussing my plans with God. I’m not saying one way or another what I’m going to do,” he said.

  “Well Dad,”

  “Please son, just let me finish,” Mr. Edwards said, interrupting him.

  “I remember that when you were a little boy you told me about a dream that helped to save my life. Well, this time, I’m having the dream. Almost every night this week I’ve dreamed the same thing. I go to visit my special friend and I give her a gift. She opens this package that’s neatly wrapped and inside there’s a bundle of money. I expect her to be thrilled. But instead she looks at the money and gives it back to me. On another night, I dreamed that I was taking her shopping and I tried to give her a lot of money. She gives it back to me. I’ve dreamed this same dream at least three nights. Look, I don’t want anyone to know about this. I just want you to pray for the understanding. I’m sorry to call you so early but I just can’t seem to rest with this on my mind. I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye,” David said. He was astounded. While he had been praying sincerely for his father, he never expected this result. He didn’t want to chance telling his father his own insight, so he decided to fast that day. It wouldn’t be easy because he had a full load of clients to see. Yet, to get a word from the Lord would be worth it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Darlene used the microwave oven to warm the baby’s food. She was not especially hungry at the moment because of her late lunch. She figured Keith could have the leftover meat loaf along with fruit salad when he got home. He seemed to be consistently late for the past few weeks. But that was alright, because she had a strange sense of peace. Ever since she began making her confessions, things went from bad to worse. Yet she seemed in control. A month ago, she might have reacted with a loss of appetite, but this time she was steadier in her home and on the job. She also seemed to delight more in Janie. Every day that she picked her up from her mom’s, she could hardly wait to get her home and play with her. She wished she could spend most of her time with her, but that was not feasible right now.

  The buzzer went off on the microwave just as the telephone rang. “Hello,” she answered in sort of a hurry as she reached into the microwave to pull out Janie’s food.

  “May I speak with Mrs. Darlene Smith?” a voice asked, above light static in the background.

  “This is she.”

  “Mrs. Smith, my name is Lieutenant Bob Richardson of the County Police Department. Is your husband’s name Keith Smith?”

  “Yes it is,” Darlene answered nervously.

  “Mrs. Smith, I regret to inform you that your husband has been involved in a traffic accident. Can you come to the County Hospital as soon as possible?”

  “What? My, Oh my God!” she stammered. “Is he ok?” she said, fighting back the tears.

  “Ma’am, I really don’t have the details on his condition,” the officer said as comforting as he could. “If you can’t drive, we can send a car for you shortly.”

  “No, I’ll drive,” Darlene said in almost a whisper. It’ll just take me a few minutes to get myself together.”

  “Just come to the emergency room of the County Hospital. Do you know how to get here?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do,” she said, leaning on the refrigerator. “I’ll be right there, goodbye.”

  Darlene called her mother as soon as she hung up, an
d told her the situation. Her mother offered to go with Darlene, but Darlene insisted on going alone. She would take Janie to her mother’s and still be only 10 minutes away.

  She prayed all the way to the hospital, that he would still be alive. Rushing into the hospital, she pushed through two large swinging doors that seemed to squeak with an unnerving sound. Darlene followed a long red arrow that was painted on the wall that read “Emergency Room.”

  A young lady sat at a computer with doctors & nurses moving busily around her. “Excuse me, my name is Darlene Smith, is my husband here?” she asked, nearly out of breath.

  What’s your husband’s name ma’am?” the receptionist asked.

  “Um it’s Keith, Keith Smith, he was in a car accident.”

  “Oh,” the receptionist said, with a strange look on her face. “Just a moment, I’ll get Dr. Jones, he’s the attending physician.”

  “Is he OK?” Darlene asked.

  “Dr. Jones will answer all of your questions Mrs. Smith.” The receptionist dialed two numbers and paged Dr. Jones over the telephone. In about two minutes a short and slightly overweight man with a stethoscope about his neck entered the room. His wandering eyes found Darlene.

  “Are you Mrs. Smith?” he asked.

  “Yes, yes I am,” she said.

  “I’m Dr. Jones the attending physician,” he announced.

  “Where’s my husband? How bad is he hurt?” she asked with her eyes filling with tears.

  “Calm down Mrs. Smith,” the doctor said, trying to avoid an overly emotional situation. “Your husband sustained a head injury when he was thrown from the car. Unfortunately, he was not wearing a seat belt.” Darlene hid her face in her hands and let the tears flow.

  “Will he be alright?” she said, sobbing.

  “It’s really too early to give the prognosis, but we’re watching him very closely,” he said. “Unfortunately, the driver received head lacerations and broken ribs due to the steering wheel,” he said. Darlene slowly raised her head and wiped her eyes as she listened to the doctor explain that Keith was not alone.

 

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