The pastor and Alexis also knelt.
“Mom?” Sasha said plaintively.
“Take my hand, sweetie,” Alexis said.
“Let the Lord have His way, Zeke,” Pastor Bob whispered.
Zeke shuddered. “He’s reminding me what He told me this morning. It’s coming back.”
“Speak through Your servant, Lord,” the pastor said.
Suddenly, all Zeke could think was, I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy.
“What’s going on, Daddy?” Sasha said.
He didn’t want to frighten her but Zeke couldn’t speak, and that made him wish Pastor Bob had not suggested she be part of this.
When his voice finally returned, he found himself suddenly hoarse. “It was this morning, when I was listening to Katashi’s story. I was kind of daydreaming, you know? It was just something inconsequential, really. I was peeking out the window, looking out over Ocean Boulevard and remembering what it once was—”
“Daddy, we wanted to know what you meant when—”
Alexis shushed Sasha and said, “Just let him speak, honey.”
Zeke continued, “I was just sort of in my own world, remembering how I had told Mahir way back when I was like twenty-four and he would’ve been, what, twenty-one, I guess, that this drought was unlike anything we’d ever seen before.”
Zeke fell silent struggling to remember. Pastor Bob laid a hand gently on his back. “Yes?”
“The drought was in its infancy then, and I remember Mahir was fascinated by my take on it and wanted me to unpack it a little more for him. That was one of his favorite buzzwords back then—unpack. You know what I’m talking about, Lexi. In fact you got tired of hearing me talk about it—all that business about how all the other California droughts happened because of lack of moisture and precipitation but—”
“That this one’s totally about the heat and all that, yeah,” she said. “I’m not even a hydrologist but I could probably give my own lecture on that by now.”
“Right, this drought is entirely temperature-driven, and I predicted almost from the beginning that if it wasn’t extremely short-term it could be catastrophic. I didn’t think of anything like this, of course, but that’s what I was thinking about while Katashi was talking this morning and I was looking out the window.”
Sasha sighed as if she’d been hoping for more and was already bored with this.
“That’s when God spoke clearly to me, out loud, even though I didn’t realize at first that it was Him.”
“So, what did God say to you?” Sasha said.
“He said, ‘This was My doing.’”
“Wow,” Pastor Bob said.
“Sorry, Dad, but you didn’t know that was God? Who else would it have been?”
“Sasha!”
“Sorry, Mom, but—”
“No, I know,” Zeke said. “I should’ve known, but I was so shaken by it, I thought I was losing my mind. Plus remember, somebody was also touching me at the same time, so not only was I trying to figure out how to break this to your mother, I was also seriously considering asking Dr. Xavier if there was a prescription for stuff like that.”
Pastor Bob said, “It was during Katashi’s story that you looked so upset that we paused and I came back and prayed for you.”
“Yes! That was when I finally figured out it was God. He told me to listen to Him and said, ‘I am that I am.’”
“Doesn’t get much clearer than that,” Alexis said.
“It sure doesn’t, and He told me His mercy was from everlasting if I would fear Him and remember His commandments. He said He had established Himself in heaven and that His kingdom rules. Then He said, ‘Listen to Me! Hear Me!’ That’s what made me lurch forward and burst into tears. I was assuring him that I heard Him and I would listen, but I didn’t say that out loud, did I?”
“No,” Sasha said, “but you were crying, and that scared me.”
Zeke chuckled. “Pastor, that’s when you came back and asked the Lord to be with me in a special way. Had you only known—”
“You know,” Pastor Bob said, “that wasn’t the first time I’ve laid hands on you and prayed, but I have to say, I’ve never felt such tension in a man, let alone you. Was God speaking to you right then?”
“He was. And I remember now what He said. It was that passage about the last days when He will pour out His Spirit on all flesh and ‘your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams.’”
“Aah,” Pastor Bob said, “Joel 2 and Acts 2.”
“That’s a thrilling passage,” Alexis said. “But I don’t get the context for Zeke. What’s the Lord trying to tell him?”
“Yeah,” Sasha said. “Caleb and Kayla and I have been learning about the end times, and one of our teachers read us that passage—something about the sun going dark and the moon turning to blood.”
“That’s right,” Pastor Bob said. “I wonder if the Lord is preparing you to replace me and is giving you an idea of what your emphasis should be.”
“For us,” Alexis said, “or for the people we’re trying to reach?”
“Why not both?” Pastor Bob said.
“Hold on a second,” Zeke said. “There’s more. First I have to ask you, Pastor, why your message was just a chapter from Jeremiah, and why that chapter?”
“It’s just what He gave me, that’s all I can say. I asked the same question myself. I assumed it was a message for whoever was to replace me. I figured that whoever was chosen might be hesitant and need the encouragement of Jeremiah’s example of being exhorted by the Lord. You know, Jeremiah thought he was too young and the Lord told him He would go before him and give him the words to speak. So he needn’t be afraid of anyone because God would command him and would deliver him.”
Zeke nodded. “Yeah, well, I happen to know that the message was intended for me.”
“Easy there, cowboy,” Pastor Bob said, smiling. “Even before the elders replace me and then they follow a logical, biblical pattern of selecting a new pastor? You know how badly Doc wants the role.”
“Who doesn’t?” Sasha said. “Caleb and Kayla are already campaigning for him.”
“You’re kidding,” Alexis said. “That’s inappropriate.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Zeke said, “And I don’t even care—”
“Well, I hope you care,” Pastor Bob said. “This may be a very small congregation, but it’s one with what I believe is a God-ordained mission, and—”
“No, no, don’t get me wrong, Pastor. I’m just saying I don’t care about Doc’s angling for the pastorate, because I sincerely believe God’s hand will be in the selection. I don’t care whether it’s me or not, because if it is, I’ll give it my all, and if it isn’t, I’ll give my full support to whoever it is.”
“Even if it’s Doc?” Sasha said.
Zeke smiled. “The fact is, if Doc were God’s choice, yes, he would have my full support. Candidly, I don’t believe he will be the one, for the very reason that he wants it so badly. I think such a position requires a person who would view it with fear and trembling.”
Alexis held up a hand. “Rewind, Z,” she said. “You said you happened to know that Pastor’s message from Jeremiah was meant for you. How do you know that, and if it doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be the new pastor, what does it mean?”
“All right,” Zeke said. “Here it is: The Lord kept telling me, in essence, to listen up and be ready, that He was speaking to me. And when Pastor Bob asked us to turn to Jeremiah 1, again I felt a hand on my shoulder and God spoke clearly. He said, ‘Hear Me. This is for you.’ As I sit here now, that’s what really scares me. Just think about what that passage says. Before I was in the womb, God knew me, sanctified me—”
“Ordained you as a prophet to the nations,” Pastor Bob recited, just above a whisper.
“Uh-oh,” Alexis said. “Is he supposed to take that literally?”
The fo
ur of them sat in silence, alternately glancing at each other. Pastor Bob finally broke the stillness. “Let me just pose this for your consideration: We’ve established that this whole business of God speaking directly and audibly to one of us is outside our normal course, outside our comfort level. But it’s happening. We’re taking it seriously. Given that, how would you assess the manner in which God speaks directly to one of His children? Figuratively? Symbolically? Or literally?”
Zeke said, “When He said to Jeremiah, ‘I ordained you a prophet to the nations,’ He meant it literally. This morning people were turning the pages of their Bibles, looking at the passage you told them to turn to, and God told me, ‘This is for you.’ Then I hear, ‘I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations . . . You shall go to all to whom I send you, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of their faces, for I am with you to deliver you . . . Behold, I have put My words in your mouth.’
“Now, Pastor Bob, I didn’t ask for this, I don’t want it, I’m not looking for anything. But does this sound to you like an appointment to be the next pastor of the holdouts?”
“No sir, it does not,” the pastor said. “If this is real, and I have no reason to doubt that it is, you may very well be being called to a fearful role. And the fact that He impressed upon you that prophetic message from Joel could also mean that you are to foretell the beginning of the end.”
“But tell who?” Sasha said. “I’m proud of what Dad and Mom do here—what we all do—but we may be the only missionaries in the whole state of California. That’s okay. I mean, we’re here because we’re supposed to be here, but if Dad’s being called to deliver some big message, where’s he gonna do that from?”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we, Zeke?” Alexis said. “One thing I know: You’ll be up to it, right? You know this is of God, so we just plunge ahead.”
“I wish I could say I was that unequivocal from the beginning,” Zeke said. “But there’s a reason we’re all sitting here right now. I needed this input. I shouldn’t have, because it’s just come back to me what the Lord gave me when you asked me to pray for Jennie, Bob.”
“Yeah, Dad, what was that?”
“He told me He had made the earth by His power and had established the world by His wisdom and had stretched out the heavens at His discretion.”
“Grab me a Bible real quick, would you, Sasha?” Pastor Bob said. “I’m pretty sure that’s from Jeremiah also.”
When she returned with it, Pastor Bob quickly leafed through it and said, “Here it is in chapter 10: ‘He has made the earth by His power, He has established the world by His wisdom, and has stretched out the heavens at His discretion. When He utters His voice, there is a multitude of waters in the heavens: And He causes the vapors to ascend from the ends of the earth. He makes lightning for the rain, He brings the wind out of His treasuries.’”
“That’s what He told me,” Zeke said.
“I don’t know what more you need than that, love,” Alexis said.
“I don’t either, Dad, and I don’t even understand all that.”
“One thing I feel certain about, but I don’t know if it’s of God or just personal preference,” Zeke said.
“This is no time for secrets,” Alexis said.
“That’s just it,” Zeke said. “What I feel so strongly about is that I’d like to keep this calling just between us, unless the Lord tells me otherwise. Of course, Pastor, you can tell Jennie.”
“What?” Sasha said. “My dad’s called to be a prophet to the nations and I can’t tell anybody?”
Pastor Bob smiled at her. “Welcome to responsibility, young lady.”
PART 3
THE THREAT
10
THE HUMBLING
ALEXIS TOLD SASHA to say her good-nights, and when Pastor Bob rose to give her a hug, he said, “I’d better be going too.”
Zeke said, “Could you possibly stay a little longer?”
The pastor nodded. “I suppose. I won’t be getting many more of these times with you.”
“You sure Jennie’s okay?” Alexis said, rising to leave with Sasha.
Pastor Bob chuckled and reached into his pocket, producing a plastic box. “Remember the ancient beepers?”
“Vaguely,” Alexis said, “from the Dark Ages.”
“Jennie found ’em in a box of junk, and Raoul somehow got them working again. They don’t reach far, but Jennie can get me if she needs me.”
“Lexi,” Zeke said, “let me put Sasha down tonight.”
Zeke and Alexis had been able to carve out a modicum of privacy for Sasha, though there was little room for anything in her space but a single bed, a chest of drawers, and a rod jutting from the wall that served as a closet. They were intentional about spending time with their daughter every day, knowing that otherwise the sheer busyness of survivalist living could cost them any hint of normalcy. One of them spent at least a half hour with her at bedtime every night talking, singing, praying, or helping her memorize Scripture.
The older Sasha got, Zeke realized, fewer would be the nights left for this. For now, she liked having her long-legged dad lying on his back next to her in the darkness, hands behind his head, nearly crowding her off her pillow. He knew the day would come when a teenager wouldn’t want that anymore.
That night she lay on her side, facing him. “Does all the stuff scare you, Dad?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“It kinda does. Mostly I just wonder what it’s gonna be like. Pastor makes it sound like you’re going to have some big audience, but I don’t see how.”
“I don’t either,” Zeke said. “Biggest group I’ve ever spoken to has been about fifty in that tribe up by Santa Cruz. And I didn’t need any supernatural courage. They welcomed us, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll have to see what God has in mind. I just want to make sure you’re all right with all of it.”
“What if I wasn’t?”
“Well, you are our top priority, you know that.”
“I better not be, Dad. What if I was totally against this? What then? Say God’s telling you to do it and I’m telling you not to. Would I still be your top priority?”
“Hmm . . .”
“See? Gotcha.”
“What would you have me do in that case, Sash?”
“You’d have no choice. You’d have to tell me to take a hike and do what God tells you to do.”
“Wow. You must’ve been raised well.”
“Yep.”
“You know Mom and I are proud of you and love you, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But we feel guilty.”
“How come?”
“’Cause it’s not like you had a choice. We drag you out here to the middle of nowhere before you’re old enough to know what’s going on, and we make our mission your life. I know you get the magazines and the letters and all that from your cousins and you know what you’re missing: TV, movies, Internet, fashions, parties, friends your own age—”
“They think I’m brainwashed.”
“They do, eh?”
“I mean, they’re Christians and everything, go to church and stuff, but they say not everything can be about God. ‘You gotta live,’ they say.”
Zeke was glad Sasha couldn’t see his face in the darkness. This was what he and Alexis agonized about. Should they expose Sasha to the real world, let her make up her own mind, come to her own conclusions about how she wanted to live, what she believed? He could identify with people in cults, communes, extreme denominations. How must Amish parents feel when they allow their kids a year of freedom, wondering if they will ever return to the fold, to the faith?
“What do you say?”
Sasha didn’t respond right away, which both thrilled and scared him. He liked that she was a thinker, not impulsive. But what was she thinking? Finally she said, “There’s lotsa stuff I’m curious about. They seem
to have fun. But how much fun can you have? Who do they help? Seems like as long as there are people who need stuff, you ought to be looking for them every day. Okay, have a party, go to a movie, have a good time. But if someone’s hungry or poor or needs anything—and I can’t believe you have to come to California to find people like that—it seems like there’d be somebody to help every day. I don’t think I’d feel too good about myself if I went a whole day without trying to help somebody, even if it just meant telling them about God.”
“That’s some pretty good thinking, sweetheart,” Zeke said, trying to hide the emotion in his voice. He sat up. “I’d better get back to our guest. Should we be thinking about letting you spend a few months with your cousins sometime?”
“What? Months? No!”
“No?”
“I don’t think so, Dad. Don’t you need me here?”
“Well, sure, but—”
“And with this new thing happening to you? Mom’s gonna need me. Plus, I wanna see what it’s all about. Anyway, my cousins are kinda shallow, you know? All they talk about is their own stuff, never about anybody else. It’s just not how I think I wanna be.”
“You getting too old to hug your old man?”
“Sorry that took so long,” Zeke said as he emerged, but he stopped short when he noticed Pastor Bob wiping his eyes.
“Oh, I’m all right,” he said. “Just one long Sunday, I guess. Lots of stress.”
“No worries,” Zeke said. “Don’t feel obligated to stay. We can talk anoth—”
“No, Zeke,” Alexis said. “He needs to tell you what he told me. Or I can tell him, Pastor.” At that, Bob Gill broke down again and gestured that Alexis should go ahead. She said, “I was just telling him how much he and Jennie meant to us and how much we’d miss them, and I think the enormity of everything just got to him.”
“I sure get that,” Zeke said.
“They’ve been married as long as we’ve been alive. And it’s starting to hit him that he won’t be in ministry for the first time since graduating from seminary.”
The Valley of Dry Bones Page 8