by T. K. Chapin
“What’s happened to you, Winston? Honestly, I want to know.”
He stopped and turned around. With furrowed eyebrows he glared as he shook his head. “What do you mean? Did you forget I’m paralyzed? My legs don’t work.”
Shaking my head, my eyes began to water. “No, not that. I’m talking about you, Winston! The real you. Your soul. Where is that man I fell in love with? The man who loved God?”
“Funny coming from the gal who wants nothing to do with God.” He rolled his eyes and turned around, giving me a cold shoulder.
I reached out and grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, stopping him from moving any further away from me. Forcing him to face me, I bent to look him in the eyes. “You’ve changed into this bitter and angry shell of a man … I look at you and I can’t even see you, Winston.”
“What?” he asked, angrily. “That’s ridiculous. I’m right here! Just a little shorter is all.” He laughed, and it felt like it was directed at me.
My aching heart he could not understand, my pain he could not see. A part of me feared he didn’t care in the slightest, and that hurt the most. Leaving him in the living room, I walked swiftly down the hall and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Walking over to the bed I sat down on the edge and folded my palms, my tears letting loose the pain I had been carrying inside for the past month. I couldn’t handle it anymore; the loneliness was killing me from the inside out.
After I let out a good cry, I lifted my moistened eyes and caught sight of the church flyer on the dresser. It was advertising the opening of their doors. It was that same church that Winston had been guarding the night he was shot—the night that forever changed our lives. I almost tossed the flyer straight into the garbage when I first saw it in the mail, but I kept it for some reason I wasn’t sure of. Maybe it was because I had prayed for the first time since I was a kid on the night Winston got shot.
Taking the flyer into my hands, I wiped my eyes. Maybe God had a reason for all this happening to Winston, maybe He didn’t. I wasn’t sure how the future would unfold for Winston and me, but I knew I owed God one for saving my husband’s life. Glancing at the bedroom door I had slammed in frustration not long ago, I decided I would give church another go after close to forty years of not attending.
Chapter 4-Winston
MY OLD SELF WOULD’VE BEEN overwhelmed with happiness over Marie’s decision to go to church, but honestly, I couldn’t care less as of late. God had let me get hurt, paralyzed even. I wasn’t too thrilled about Him letting that happen. How could a loving and living God let one of his biggest warriors take a hit that would leave him without the ability to walk?
Eating my eggs and a piece of toast that Sunday morning at the dining room table, I could hear Marie in the bathroom with a blow dryer getting ready for her church service. It was funny to me how she had rejected my attempts to bring her to church for years. She would always swear up and down on how corrupt the church was, and how it was just a house for hypocrites who needed a reason to be good.
As she came into the kitchen to get a refill on her coffee, I set my fork down. Wiping my mouth, I said, “Marie.”
“Yeah?” she responded, walking to the table as she took a sip from her cup.
“Why is it you’re going today?”
She smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “I want to see what it’s all about. You know, I prayed when you were under the knife.”
“I know, I remember you telling me that. That doesn’t explain why.”
“I feel I owe God and should at least give Him a try after He saved your life.”
I laughed. “Really? You think you’re paying God back for saving me?”
Her countenance fell as she turned and left the kitchen. I felt bad for smashing her non-sensible reasoning. Unlocking my wheels, I rolled after her down the hall.
“Marie,” I called out.
There was no response, but I could hear her opening her makeup bag in the bathroom just a few feet further down the hall.
Continuing to the bathroom, I stopped at the doorway. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I hope it goes well for you.”
“And why aren’t you going this morning?” she asked, her tone sharper than a razor.
“Are you blind?” I asked, and then looked down at my legs. “I can’t walk!”
“You know, I was there at the hospital when Kirk said they put in ramps at the church.”
Her words were true, but she didn’t understand how mortifying it’d be for me to go. All those people looking at me. It would be horribly uncomfortable. Shooing a hand through the air, I dismissed her, because I knew she couldn’t possibly understand how it’d be. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Obviously, you only cared about God when you had legs that worked. Only when He does what you think He should.” Setting down her makeup, she turned off the bathroom light and barged past me down the hallway for the front door. Putting on a coat, she grabbed her purse off a hook in the foyer and left, slamming the door on her way out.
Marie was a good woman, and a smart woman, too. I fell in love with her not only because of her looks, though she had always been easy on the eyes, but because she challenged me. She was a lawyer by profession and knew how to dig into a matter like nobody else. She had presented me with the evidence of my past faith and it was hard to verbalize a defense as to what exactly was going on in my soul. Whatever it was, I knew I still loved God, even if I wasn’t happy with Him right now.
Chapter 5-Marie
MY HEART RACED WITH A measure of uncertainty as I approached the church’s entrance doors. I wasn’t sure what to expect. It had been over two decades since I graced a church with my presence, and even then, it was only to marry Winston. This church wasn’t just any church. This one had already impacted my life in a big way, and negatively at that.
“Good morning,” a woman said, as she extended her hand to shake mine. With her other hand she gave me a pamphlet with the church name on it—Church at the Lake. Her smile was warm and welcoming, her hair blonde and flowing.
“Thank you. Good morning,” I replied, then proceeded inside.
In the foyer there were three tables set up. Two had treats and one had coffee and juice. I grabbed a napkin at one end of the treat table and scooped up a few frosted cookies. There were a few women behind the tables making sure the cookies and drinks were being replenished. Each one had a smile.
“Thank you,” I said to a naturally beautiful young brunette who had made eye contact with me.
“You’re welcome.” Her tone was gentle and similar to the woman I had met outside the doors.
Making my way to the drink table, I grabbed a cup of coffee, then put sugar and cream in it. As I ate my cookies and stood near the doors leading into the sanctuary, the young brunette found her way over to me.
“Hello. It’s Marie, right?”
“Yes?” I said, perplexed.
“I recognized you from the prayer chain email. Your husband is Winston, the bodyguard who was shot guarding the church. I wanted to introduce myself and thank you for coming today. We have all been praying hard for Winston and you. It means a lot to all of us to see you here.” She stuck out her hand to shake mine, beaming with a warm smile. Her brown hair fell to the side of her face. “I’m Chelsea.”
“Nice to meet you, Chelsea,” I said, switching the cookies to my hand with the coffee so I could shake.
After shaking hands, she asked, “How is he, if you don’t mind me asking?”
A pained expression lined Chelsea’s face. It was as if she held some of the guilt of the incident on her own shoulders. Thankfulness filled me inside that someone cared enough to ask.
“He’s coming along slowly, but surely.”
“Good. I’m so sorry that he got shot. The whole staff has been praying for him since it happened. If there’s anything we can do …”
I nodded. “The congregation has been sweet. They brought a few meals up to th
e hospital for us and Pastor Charlie even made his way over a couple times to visit.”
She beamed. “I’m glad to hear it. Well, we will continue to pray for you two.”
The piano started playing in the sanctuary behind me and people began moving through the doors to go take their seats.
“It was nice meeting you.” Chelsea rejoined the rest of the women at the tables to start clean-up.
It felt good to know people cared and were praying for us during this difficult time. I could sense some of that loneliness I had experienced days prior starting to dissipate. Maybe my mean and hard grandfather was the exception to church-goers, not the rule.
Chapter 6-Winston
WITH MARIE OUT OF THE house and her watchful eye not on my every movement, I took advantage of the free time alone. Rolling myself out the back door off the living room, I went across the backyard and out to my shop where my weight room was set up. The weight room had been collecting dust while I was in the hospital, and I had even had a few dreams of working out there during my time away. I decided that morning, while Marie was gone, to do some bench presses to relieve some of the stress I was feeling after her little blow up that morning about my faith in God.
As I entered I flipped on the lights and took in a big breath through my nose. The smell of determination and hard work still lingered in the air amongst all the dust. A part of my soul felt like it had awakened from a deep sleep. Maneuvering over to the boom box, I hefted it off the counter against the right wall and set it down on the concrete. I turned the radio to a classic rock station and cranked it up loud, letting the sounds and vibrations roll through me as my muscles activated.
After some stretching of my arms and torso, the workout mood was officially set, and I headed to the weight bench. My chair almost didn’t fit, so I would have to see about rearranging the room for future use.
I bobbed my head to the music as I loaded up the plates of weight to each side of the bar. Locking my wheelchair into place, I lifted myself out and onto the bench.
Rubbing my hands together, I lay flat on the bench under the bar and lined up my grip with both hands. Not being able to feel the ground with my feet and plant them firmly felt strange, but I continued regardless. Lifting the bar off the rack, I brought it out and over my chest and started a bench press set.
1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … 5 … 6 … 7 … 8 … 9 … 10.
Racking the weight, I clapped as a shot of adrenaline surged through me.
“That felt good.” My muscles were warm, and it was time to get some real weight on the bar. Getting back into my chair, I grabbed more forty-five-pound plates and put them on each side of the bar.
Getting back on the bench, I tilted my head to the left and then to the right. Taking a deep breath, I un-racked the weight.
1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … 5 … 6
The weight stopped me half-way up. I couldn’t lift it. C’mon! I thought as I tried to power through. Feeling as if my veins would explode, I pushed with all my might but failed and let the bar drop against the safety pins just a quarter inch from my chest.
A lot of the power in a bench press came from a full-body explosion, back-arching and feet firmly planted—something I couldn’t exactly do without my lower half working.
Sliding under the bar and down the bench, I slipped back into my wheelchair with a sense of defeat, of failure.
Staring at the bar I shook my head in disappointment, my chin dipped to my chest. This wasn’t what I had in mind for the latter parts of my life. Why did God have to allow this to happen? Why did He let that bullet cut into my spinal cord? To me, there was no real answer worthy for my ears, no excuse that would be sufficient.
Chapter 7-Marie
PASTOR CHARLIE TOOK TO THE podium after we sang a few different hymns. Cheering and clapping followed him all the way to the microphone. The atmosphere that morning in the little church on the lake was both joyful and bursting with excitement. I could see Kirk Dekker, one of WIN’s bodyguards sitting beside his girlfriend a few rows up from me. He had stopped to say hello on his way to his pew during the singing. He was a class-A gentleman.
After the welcome message, the pastor went over the bulletin news in the pamphlet I was holding. Then he went on to mention a special announcement. “We’d like to give a warm welcome to our future Youth Pastor, Kirk. Go ahead and stand up, Kirk.”
He stood up and turned, waving to everybody.
The pastor continued as Kirk took his seat. “He has already started coursework at Dallas Theological Institute online and we’re thrilled to have him be a part of the team. Listen, I know there’s a lot of excitement in the air today, and I just want to take a moment and say thank you to you the church members for being there for my wife and me through it all. From the very beginning when we just had service in our home until now.”
More cheers and clapping followed. Charlie smiled and lifted a hand to settle the crowd.
“As you know, we struggled with getting our church built. There were rain delays, burglaries, and one thing after another, but once it was framed, you guys did a great job with finishing the flooring, the electrical, and so on. It’s been a huge push to get to today, but it’s done! It’s only been by the grace of God and you, His followers coming together that we are here today. We’re blessed to be able to worship in our new church through the combination of God’s will and your faithfulness.” His eyes surveyed the front left row. “Serenah, could you join me up here?”
The pretty woman who had shook my hand outside the church doors joined Charlie on stage. He put his arm around her shoulders and they both smiled.
With tears in her eyes, Serenah leaned into the microphone. “I couldn’t see how this was going to happen until it was finished, so if any of you ever are struggling …” She paused and brought a tissue up to her face and dabbed her eyes before continuing. “If you ever are struggling, I want you to know God is near. God is good and He is going to help you deal with whatever is going on in your life. All you have to do is put your trust in Him.”
Her words resonated with my soul, and a prickling washed over me like a wave lapping the shoreline.
Charlie leaned into the microphone. “Hey, now, it’s my job to be the preacher.”
The crowd laughed and Serenah did too.
“In all seriousness though,” Charlie continued, “we want you to know we are forever grateful for each one of you. You truly are the hands and feet of Christ.”
As I watched Serenah return to her seat in the front left row, I wondered about her. Upon first meeting her, I thought she must have had a charmed life by the mere glow to her appearance. But now, I wondered. Did she have a past full of difficulties and hardships? My gaze left her and surveyed the audience in the pews. It was then it dawned on me. Each person sitting in that building had endured difficulties and hardships. I wasn’t alone at all. Every person had his or her own story. Someone here could’ve just as easily suffered the loss of a spouse. My heart raced as the memory of Winston’s life hanging in the balance blinked through my mind. I could’ve lost him.
Chapter 8-Marie
“‘TASTE AND SEE THAT THE Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.’ Psalm 34:8.” Charlie stepped away from the podium and bowed his head. “Let’s pray. Dear Heavenly Father, may our minds be open to Your perfect truth. Please help us deepen our understanding of You today. Bless these people gathered today in Your name. Amen.”
He journeyed back to the podium and stood behind it. After a moment’s pause, he looked across the audience. “Have you ever had a good meal? I mean a really good meal. The kind that makes your saliva glands water? Living with a wonderful cook like I do allows me to taste many delicious dishes. And you want to know something? After I finish one of those amazing dishes I thank her. In fact, I go out of my way to thank her several times when they’re really good. I’ll say, ‘you know what, honey? That bacon wrapped, cream cheese and jalapeno stuffed chicken was out of this world. Thank yo
u for making that for dinner.’ And when I read this passage in Psalms, I think it’s important to pause and really understand what’s going on. Look how the author is playing on words here. You can’t literally ‘taste’ the Lord, but you know what? You can enjoy the goodness of Him.”
As I tried to relate what he meant to my own life, I struggled. I didn’t experience any goodness of the Lord, at least not outside of Him rescuing Winston’s life, but even that seemed hopeless now. I now had a husband at home who acted like he would rather have died than be sentenced to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Still, I continued to listen to Charlie preach, hoping something would strike home.
Later in the sermon, he said, “You know what you gotta do to taste the goodness of the Lord?”
My eyes widened and I leaned forward, eager to know the answer.
“You have to eat of Him.” His voice picked up tempo. “Not literally, but spiritually. You’re spiritually starving and your soul needs to eat just like your body does. If you want a breakthrough in your life, pick up a book that will change your life for the better.” He reached for his Bible and held it up. “This book is the only food your soul ever needs! Not just on Sunday, but on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Everyday! If you are wanting to understand God, understand your life, get into your Bible! Take refuge Psalm 34:8 says, take refuge in Him!”
Message received, I thought, as guilt weighed on my shoulders. I hadn’t picked up a Bible at all. The sermon soon came to an end and the pianist started playing. As the light sound of the melody danced through the room, Charlie stood quietly behind the podium. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, like that of a gentle spirit.
“While our pianist Becky plays this invitational song, I want to ask each one of you out there today this one question. Do you know and taste the goodness of the Lord? If you don’t, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to start doing so today. Whether it’s your first time in a church or you’ve been coming all your life and just need to recommit your life to Him, come on down. I’d love to pray with you. Let’s sing.”