Still holding Mama’s hand, Jimmy entered the sanctuary and anxiously looked toward their pew. A man and a woman with gray hair were sitting beside each other in the center of the pew.
“He’s here!” Jimmy exclaimed in a loud voice that caused several people to turn around and stare.
Releasing Mama’s hand, he ran down the aisle. He slid into the pew and greeted Grandpa with a quick hug and smile.
“Good morning, Grandpa!” he said.
Grandma touched her index finger to her lips. “You don’t have to yell.”
Grandpa held out his arms, and Jimmy scooted next to him as close as when he was a little boy and Grandpa read a book to him.
“Thanks for coming,” Jimmy said in a softer voice.
Grandpa smiled. “A promise is a promise.”
Daddy and Mama joined them. Mama sat on the other side of Jimmy, who happily watched familiar faces enter the room and take their accustomed seats. The choir entered, followed by Brother Fitzgerald, who strode to the platform and sat in a big chair with a high back and large arms.
“Don’t let me bother you,” Jimmy whispered to Grandpa. “I want you to listen to Brother Fitzgerald.”
“You’re not bothering me,” Grandpa replied. “I promise to pay attention if you do too.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jimmy had never concentrated so intently on a worship service. He followed along with the hymns and listened to the prayers in hope that his actions could somehow pull Grandpa into the flow of the meeting. When Brother Fitzgerald stood and read the Scripture passage for the day, Jimmy slowed his breathing to focus on the words that so often proved difficult for him to understand.
In his best preacher’s voice, Brother Fitzgerald proclaimed, “Our Scripture today is found in John 3:16.”
“I know what that says,” he whispered to Grandpa.
“Me too.”
Jimmy glanced sideways in surprise. He wanted to ask Grandpa a question, but the preacher’s voice stopped him.
“‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’”
The preacher shut the Bible and let his eyes roam across the congregation. Jimmy felt the minister’s gaze pause for a second when he reached the people sitting on the Mitchell family pew.
“Many of you have known the familiar words in this verse since before you could read,” the preacher continued. “But knowing the words is not the same as believing the good news they proclaim.”
For the next few minutes, Brother Fitzgerald spoke in a conversational tone so different from his usual preaching style that the sanctuary felt eerily quiet. When he began to warm to the task and his words began to roll like distant thunder, Jimmy sat mesmerized, his eyes fixed on the minister and his attention drawn into the message, not the preacher’s method of delivery.
“In conclusion, I want to share my own journey to the wells of salvation.” The preacher once again spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Picture a cool, north Georgia evening in the fall of the year after the corn and the soybeans have been harvested. My favorite uncle took me to a revival meeting beneath a brown tent on the outskirts of Dawsonville. It was a Thursday night, and there weren’t many people. My uncle marched down a sawdust aisle to the front row. We sat so close to the platform that I thought the preacher was going to jump into my lap. I’d been to church a few times in my life, but I’d never heard anything like this.”
The preacher paused. “The speaker was an auto mechanic who sold his business and bought a tent so he could tell people about Jesus. As a thirteen-year-old boy, I heard a similar message to the one I’ve preached today. The call of God came to my soul, and the Son of God came into my heart. I’ve been preaching the gospel for over twenty-five years, and that revival preacher whose name I’ve forgotten has a stake in every soul I’ve led to Jesus. Whether you’re thirteen or seventy-three, today can be your day of salvation. Don’t ignore the inner witness of the Holy Spirit calling you to give your life to Jesus. Obey God! Come forward and find mercy and grace for your time of need.”
Jimmy licked his lips. His heart was pounding, and he felt shaky on the inside. He’d heard about salvation his entire life, and belief in Jesus had never been a problem for him. But the preacher’s message caused new thoughts and emotions to swirl in his head. He felt an ache, a longing for something he didn’t have but wanted with all his heart.
Jimmy had never been encouraged to respond to an altar call. The important people in his life assumed his low IQ qualified him for a free pass into heaven. But at that moment, the theology of salvation for those with borderline intellectual ability didn’t apply to Jimmy Mitchell. The call of God came to his soul. Brother Fitzgerald prayed; Jimmy closed his eyes. The choir started to sing softly. Jimmy leaned over to Mama.
“I want to go up front,” he said.
“Why?” Mama asked in surprise.
“To get saved.”
Mama leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You’re already saved. Pray for your grandpa.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jimmy peeked sideways at Grandpa, who sat with his eyes closed. Jimmy tried to get his mind off himself and think about Grandpa, but his own uneasiness didn’t lift. He tapped Mama on the arm.
“I want to go up front,” he repeated.
Mama put her hand on his arm and leaned over to Daddy. Jimmy couldn’t hear what she said, but she turned back to him and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.
“Jimmy, it’s not necessary. You’re just worked up over your grandpa.”
Jimmy tried to settle back into the pew. The choir finished the third verse of the closing hymn. So far, no one had come forward. Brother Fitzgerald usually stopped the music to give another plea before the start of the fourth verse. If no one responded, the service ended. The choir grew silent. Brother Fitzgerald spoke.
“I have a sense in my heart there are least two people who need to respond to the message this morning. If you feel that tug of God in your heart, please don’t resist his great love. There will never be a better opportunity for you to come to Jesus than this moment.”
Jimmy’s anxiety increased. The choir started to sing the fourth verse. He couldn’t stand the thought of staying in his seat. Without saying anything to Mama, he slipped from the pew and moved so fast that Daddy’s hand fell off his shoulder before he could slow Jimmy down. Once he’d set his feet in motion, the distress Jimmy felt while sitting in the pew lifted, and upon reaching the aisle, he walked quickly toward the front of the sanctuary. A thirteen-year-old boy responding to the invitation at the conclusion of a service wasn’t an unusual event. But Jimmy Mitchell wasn’t a usual boy. Whispers on each side accompanied his journey. Brother Fitzgerald saw him coming and moved from behind the pulpit to the floor of the sanctuary. He held out a beefy hand with a welcoming smile on his face. They shook hands. Brother Fitzgerald didn’t let go.
“What do you want Jesus to do for you?” the preacher asked, leaning close to Jimmy’s face.
Jimmy looked at Brother Fitzgerald, saw the choir behind him, and suddenly realized that he’d left the security of the family pew. He started to turn around and flee to safety. Only the preacher’s grip on his right hand prevented him.
“Do you want to get saved?” Brother Fitzgerald asked.
Jimmy managed a weak nod. The preacher flipped the switch for the wireless microphone clipped to his tie.
“People of God!” the minister boomed. “Jimmy Mitchell wants to give his heart to Jesus this morning. Pray for us, while I pray with him.”
Brother Fitzgerald got on his knees and pulled Jimmy down with him.
“Repeat after me,” the preacher said.
Brother Fitzgerald prayed three or four words at a time. Jimmy repeated the words. It was a standard prayer, probably used by the preacher on hundreds of occasions, but on this day, for Jimmy Mitchell, it wasn’t rote; it was real. As he repeated the words
of the prayer, something changed.
“In the name of Jesus, amen,” he repeated.
Brother Fitzgerald pulled Jimmy to his feet and turned him around to face the sanctuary.
“Everybody welcome our new little brother in Christ.”
There was polite applause. A smile on his face, Jimmy peered through his glasses in the direction of his family. Mama held a tissue to her eyes. Daddy was looking around the sanctuary. Grandpa sat with his arms crossed.
The preacher bustled down the aisle, leaving Jimmy alone for a second before a congratulatory crowd of people descended upon him. Jimmy felt overwhelmed and did not know what to say. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. It was Mama, with Daddy close behind her. They’d worked their way down the aisle to reach him. Mama leaned over and hugged him.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “I didn’t realize the Lord was really calling you.”
Mama and Daddy took over management of the crowd. All Jimmy had to do was smile and shake hands with the men and allow the women to give him a hug. Several lipstick-laden kisses smudged his forehead and both cheeks. The informal reception lasted only a few minutes, but it seemed much longer to Jimmy. When the crowd thinned, he turned to Mama.
“Where are Grandpa and Grandma?”
“They had to leave. Grandpa wasn’t feeling well.”
“He should have come down with me. I didn’t feel well either, but I’m a lot better now.”
Mama nodded. “Yes. You led the way. All he had to do was humble himself like a little child and follow. He missed a great opportunity.”
— Twelve —
Jimmy and his family ate lunch at the Springdale Restaurant. The restaurant featured a Sunday buffet that united all God’s children. Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, and Pentecostals might not be able to gather in the same sanctuary, but they had no problem fellowshipping around roast beef, pan-fried okra, and creamed corn.
Mama always helped Jimmy select the food for his plate. Otherwise, he had a tendency to load up with meat and potatoes, leaving little room for anything green, yellow, or orange. He reached the end of the line with a plate heaped high with roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots, green beans, and a cornbread muffin perched on top of the pile. Daddy waited for them at a table toward the rear of the restaurant. He clicked off his cell phone as they joined him.
“He’s having chest pains, and he went to lie down as soon as he took off his shoes,” he said to Mama.
“Should he go to the hospital?”
“He claims it’s not any worse than usual, but I don’t trust his self-diagnosis. I’m going over to see him after we eat.”
Jimmy knew they were talking about Grandpa.
“I could listen to his heart,” he volunteered.
“That always makes him feel better,” Mama replied, “but he needs to see a doctor to make sure he’s okay.”
In public places, Daddy prayed a very short blessing over the meal. After he finished, Jimmy cut off a juicy piece of meat and chased it with a bite of mashed potatoes. It was one of his favorite flavor combinations.
“Jimmy,” Daddy said, “tell me in your own words what happened to you today. Don’t try to sound like a preacher.”
“Are you going to cross-examine him?” Mama asked. “I told you at the church we shouldn’t try to challenge what the Holy Spirit—”
“No,” Daddy interrupted. “I’m willing to listen. Go ahead.”
“Can I eat another bite of food?” Jimmy asked. “Getting saved made me real hungry.”
Daddy smiled. “Okay, but don’t forget your carrots and green beans.”
They waited in silence until Jimmy swallowed his bite. “Something inside made me want to go up front,” he said.
“Did you see anything?” Daddy asked.
“Yes, sir. Everyone in the choir was staring at me, and I wanted to go back to my seat, but Brother Fitzgerald held on to my hand. Then he prayed, and I repeated the words.”
Daddy lowered his voice. “Did you see a Watcher in the sanctuary?”
“No, sir. Did you?”
“No. I’ve never seen one.”
“Neither have I,” Mama added. “But I believe they’re real.”
“Even if that’s true,” Daddy said, “I don’t understand why he would claim divine revelation to take my father to church. It seems like the wrong person went forward. You’ve claimed for years that Jimmy was already saved, and I agreed with you. He’s always been a good boy who prays and tries to be good most of the time.”
Mama shook her head. “It’s not about being good enough. We don’t know everything in his heart. You saw me. I tried to hold him back, but when I saw him walk down the aisle, something inside me jumped for joy.” She turned toward Jimmy. “Did you mean it with all your heart when you prayed with Brother Fitzgerald?”
“Yes, ma’am. And the bad feelings went away. I felt happy and then hungry.”
“Maybe it’s another step in growing up,” Mama said. “A child starts out relying on his parents’ faith but at some point has to believe because it’s his or her choice to do so. I wasn’t sure that would ever happen with Jimmy, but it has, and we should be glad about it.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” Daddy answered. “I guess there’s just a part of this I won’t be able to understand.”
As they neared the end of their meal, Brother Fitzgerald came over to their table. The preacher had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
“May I join you for a minute?” he asked Daddy. “I was going to call you later but wondered if we could talk now.”
“Sure,” Daddy replied.
The preacher sat in the extra chair and placed his large hands on the edge of the table.
“I’m so proud of Jimmy stepping out and coming down front to receive Jesus into his life. It will be a memory I carry with me for a long time.”
“Thank you,” Mama said. “And we appreciate the sensitive way you treated him.”
“He’s a fine boy,” Brother Fitzgerald said, patting Jimmy on the shoulder. “God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform. I’ve led lots of people to the Lord, but you’re one of the most special.”
Jimmy winced.
Brother Fitzgerald continued. “I’ll have to double-check the church calendar, but I think we’re going to have a baptismal service on Sunday night in two weeks. I realize it’s close to Christmas, but it’s a great time of year to follow the Lord under the water. If your family is going to be in town, I’d like to put Jimmy on the list. He’ll be in a group with the Cole family. They were Methodists before moving to Piney Grove, and all six of them are going to be baptized. I’m also talking to a young man who works as an industrial engineer at Southwire. He wants to be baptized and join the church. All in all, it will be a nice assembly. The sooner, the better, is my theology of baptism. Philip baptized the Ethiopian at the first sign of water.” Brother Fitzgerald winked at Jimmy. “And no matter how cold it is outside, our baptismal pool is a pleasant eighty degrees.”
“That should work fine,” Daddy replied. “We don’t have any plans to be out of town until after the holidays.”
“Good.” Brother Fitzgerald pushed away from the table and stood to his feet. He smiled down at Jimmy. “God bless you, son. Your baptism will be one of the greatest days of your life.”
Jimmy didn’t respond. He’d seen many baptisms. Watching and participating were two entirely different matters.
“Do either of you want dessert?” Daddy asked. “I think there’s a piece of coconut pie with my name on it.”
“Lee,” Mama replied in a low but intense voice. “What were you thinking? Do you really believe Jimmy is going to let Brother Fitzgerald baptize him?”
“Uh, it shouldn’t be a problem. The baptismal pool isn’t any bigger than a bathtub.”
“When was the last time Jimmy took a bath?”
Daddy didn’t answer but looked at Jimmy. “Tell your mama that you’re not afr
aid to be baptized.”
Jimmy kept his eyes down and spoke in the direction of his plate. “I don’t want to do it.”
“The water is less than four and a half feet deep,” Daddy answered, trying to keep his voice calm. “There will be children in the Cole family younger and smaller than you getting baptized. It will all be over in a few seconds. The preacher is holding you steady the entire time. Brother Fitzgerald is strong enough not to let anything bad happen to you.”
Jimmy couldn’t close his ears, but he could shut his eyes. He hid in the self-imposed dark.
“Don’t try to argue with him,” Mama said. “Leave him alone.”
“You should have kept quiet,” Daddy retorted. “You put fear in his head.”
There was silence at the table for a moment. Jimmy opened his eyes, but the image of the water closing over his head seeped into his mind.
“No,” Mama said in a steely voice. “I think there is someone else to blame for that.”
Daddy didn’t eat any coconut pie.
THE SUBJECT OF BAPTISM DIDN’T COME UP DURING THE SILENT drive home. Daddy dropped off Jimmy and Mama then continued to Grandpa and Grandma’s house. Jimmy walked up the steps beside Mama. Inside, Mama stopped him before he could run upstairs to change clothes and gave him a heartfelt hug.
“Don’t let anything ruin this day,” she said. “The angels in heaven are rejoicing over what you did at the church.”
“What would that look like?”
Mama smiled. “You probably know more about that than I do. Someday we’ll both find out. Now go upstairs and change clothes. Be sure to hang up your pants and jacket in the closet.”
JIMMY PUT ON A FLANNEL SHIRT AND BLUE JEANS SUITED TO the cool December afternoon. Before going outside to play with Buster, he lay on the bed and looked out the window that gave him a broad view of the front yard. It was a familiar sight viewed from a safe place, and he often liked to lie on the bed and stare out the window. Today no one passed by on the sidewalk. No breeze blew. The scene was as still as a painted landscape.
But today his world looked different.
Jimmy took off his glasses, rubbed them with the corner of his soft shirt, and returned them to their place. The sense that he was seeing things in a new way didn’t go away. Puzzled, he remained on the bed, unable to understand a reason for the difference. The green grass, the texture of the bark on the trees, the rich brown of the fallen leaves. Everything seemed more alive. Then a message came into the stillness of his heart.
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