Mercy, Mercy Me

by Ronn Elmore

  “Yeah, it’s pretty exciting. Quite a change for me.”

  “Well, if you ever need a guest …”

  Dwayne laughed halfheartedly. “Higher Ground is a Christian take.”

  “How do you know I’m not a Christian?”

  “Because you told me that there wasn’t a thing a Christian could do for you.”

  Jasmine was a “stuffer.” Whenever there was a hard-to-talk-about issue she knew she needed to raise with her husband, Kirk, who like herself was an actor, she had a tendency to keep it stuffed inside, seldom taking the risk of bringing it up to him. She figured that speaking up would do more harm than good.

  Kirk, on the other hand, was a “skirter.” Whenever there was a potential conflict in their relationship, he was prone to using an endless stream of vague, indirect words instead of saying what was really on his mind, skirting around the issue, fearful that he might set off an argument.

  Both wrongly suspected that their marriage would go under if they ever rocked the boat. Dwayne’s job had been to persuade him and now her that their relationship was more likely to sink if they didn’t rock the boat, to remind them that they were two separate individuals—individuals who had been brought up in two different homes, who had differing experiences, motives, and personal preferences, and who were subject to seeing the same issue in two vastly different ways. But today, with Jasmine’s mind seeming to be more on Dwayne’s show than her problems, Dwayne was struggling to stay focused.

  “So how’d you get this gig?” she asked.

  “Jasmine, we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about you. After all, you pay me for that.”

  With that, Dwayne settled back into his chair, much more comfortable as a listener than the center of attention—particularly in a world he still didn’t feel part of. Fact was, outside his practice, Dwayne felt most comfortable with New Covenant’s Man-to-Man ministry, his first official session scheduled to begin the day after the first taping of Higher Ground. Ironic that they were both debuting at the same time.

  With everything on track, all that was left to do was to wait, hold his breath, and pray that this would all turn out the way God wanted.

  “You’ve been working on this four weeks and you have nothing?” L.W. looked directly into Kim’s eyes. “You didn’t look deep enough. Everybody has some skeleton in their closet.”

  “L.W., it was an extensive background check that included everything from his bank records to his childhood friends to some distant family members—even talked to some of his patients, who all seem to want to nominate the man for sainthood or something.” Kim could read the disappointment in L.W.’s face. “So what now?”

  With nothing to hold over Dwayne’s head, L.W. found himself at a distinct disadvantage. There had to be a way, he thought, looking across the table at Kim in disgust. No one, not even Dwayne Grandison, could be perfect. “You have to give me something, do you hear me? Now, how about Sean Wiley?”

  “Nothing yet. I’d been devoting my time to Dr. Grandison.”

  “Well, get working on it.”

  Without waiting for a response, L.W. stood and stomped past Kim out the door.

  In another part of the building, production assistants scurried about as studio technicians trained their cameras and lights on the stage. A crowd of eagerly waiting onlookers had been seated in the studio audience, and Dwayne paced nervously backstage.

  “You’re going to be great,” Beverlyn reassured him.

  “Are you sure?” he countered with the first hint of vulnerability she’d observed in him. Nice, she thought as both of them rushed to take their places. He was coming to depend on her.

  The room filled with music as the stage spotlight zoomed in on a duet with Beverlyn and Sean. As the duet came to a close, another camera and bright light shone on a now-visible Dwayne.

  “Good afternoon. My name is Dr. Dwayne Grandison. Welcome to Higher Ground.”

  The show focused in on the ravaging results of drugs on the families, and the confessions of those whose actions had devastated the lives of their loved ones. He quickly forgot the cameras, focusing in only on the people in front of him and Sean. Sean began to disclose for the first time—before a national audience—the harrowing five-year battle with drug abuse that nearly killed him and how he was finally delivered through Jesus Christ.

  “I lost my job,” one of the women said, “because my son came to my office ranting for money. He threatened my colleagues and attacked my boss.”

  As the woman spoke, her son, Robert, dropped his head.

  “What’s so painful,” the mother continued, “is he’s still using. He says he’s not, but I know the signs. It’s like he doesn’t care about his family.”

  “I care, Mom,” the seventeen-year-old said softly. “I just can’t help it. But I would never hurt you.”

  Another young woman turned to Robert. “You say that you don’t want to hurt your family, but you will. Crack made me so paranoid that I put my two-year-old out of the house. I left him standing on the steps, bawling, in the middle of winter. I didn’t care. I was sure he was conspiring with the neighbors to kill me. I was out of my mind.”

  The talk continued, each declaration sounding worse than the last. Sean’s riveting testimony provided the knockout punch, bringing everyone to tears.

  “Drugs became more important than my music. They were my lovers, and I would do anything for them. I knew I was killing myself, and I didn’t want to die. But I couldn’t stop. I gave up, but the blessing was that God never gave up on me.”

  On the screen, Sean lowered himself to his knee and turned to Robert.

  “Christ saved my life, and He came to save yours.”

  As Sean led the young man to God, Dwayne gave a number for viewers to call if they desired to speak with prayer counselors.

  “This is not the end for Robert, or any of my guests,” Dwayne said to the camera. “God is the beginning. And He gives us tools to handle challenges. So we are going to help our guests get what they need. We will do our best to take them to a Higher Ground. I’m Dr. Dwayne Grandison, and I’ll see you next time.”

  As the audience applauded in a standing ovation, Dwayne smiled broadly, thinking to himself that this wasn’t all that bad. In fact, he was pretty good at this. He had grown to like the attention. Wow, he thought to himself. Suddenly, he scanned the room for Beverlyn and with the cameras still trained on him, walked over, clasped her hand, and brought her front and center for the continuing ovation.

  Beverlyn took it all in, breathing deeply and silently celebrating the fact that Dwayne had just officially crossed over into her world. Even if he didn’t know it, they were now a team, just as she had wanted.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nina looked up from her desk and glanced at Dwayne, sitting at her conference table.

  “You’ve been working for hours.” She smiled. “You’ve got to be tired.”

  Dwayne made a final marking on the paper and then looked up. “I am tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “This has been one of the longest days of my life.”

  Nina walked across the room to the conference table. “Tiring but exhilarating, I’m sure. You’re officially a TV star,” she teased. “How did it feel to be in front of all those cameras?”

  Dwayne motioned for Nina to sit next to him. “It was surreal. You see this stuff on TV, but then you’re the one with dozens of cameras pointed at you. Thousands of lights beaming and people yelling instructions… makeup …” He paused, rubbed his hand against his cheek, then checked his fingers. “I have a new opinion of show business.”

  “It’s a different world.”

  “Let’s just say I have new respect for my clients,” he quipped. “Seriously, though, I can’t wait to see how it turns out. They said they’d have the final edits by morning. I can’t stop wondering how it will look.”

  “It’ll be fine. I know you don’t know anything about television, but you’re doing the part yo
u know well—you’re talking to people.”

  “I hope that’s enough for the cameras.”

  “You have charisma, Dwayne. The cameras will love you.”

  He paused, thinking of how she was speaking from her own experience.

  “Just look at everything you do,” she continued. “You don’t take a project unless you can give it your best. Everything you touch does well. Look at Man-to-Man.”

  “Now, this I’m sure of. I can’t wait for tomorrow. Do we have a final count for the meeting?”

  Nina returned to her desk and picked up the file. “Fifteen confirmed.”

  “Well, however many, I’ll be ready.”

  “I know you will. And on that note let’s get out of here. No matter how hard we try, we’re not going to be able to script every minute of the meeting.”

  Dwayne laughed as he packed the papers into his briefcase. They chatted as they walked to the church’s parking lot, pausing at Nina’s Toyota Camry.

  “Nina, thank you for being such a good friend these last few months.”

  “I haven’t really done anything.”

  “You may not realize it, but getting me involved with Man-to-Man and encouraging me with Higher Ground, you’ve helped me to see a future I’m now looking forward to.”

  “You really do seem happy, and I couldn’t be happier for you. But remember what I said, Dwayne. It’s so easy to get caught up in that world—without ever knowing it. And it’s not so much the money or the outward success as how, before you know it, you find yourself off course.”

  Dwayne silently reflected on Nina’s words, reasoning that this would not be the case with him. Besides, he was finally happy. The dark cloud that had hung over his life for the past year had lifted, and Nina was part of it all. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but moments between them were still awkward. So as had grown to be his custom with her, he held back, analyzing every word and motion, often opting to play it safe.

  “Thanks.”

  “Whatever I’ve done, it was easy,” Nina said, peering into Dwayne’s light brown eyes. “I believe in you.” She paused and stepped closer.

  Suddenly, it became quite clear that they were in kissing range. As the realization sank in, the moment seemed to hold them in a stark eternity. Slowly, Dwayne leaned forward. His lips were within mere inches of hers when Nina abruptly turned away.

  “We’d better get going,” she said, fumbling with her keys. “If you thought this was a long day, wait until tomorrow.” She hoped her tone lightened the moment.

  Dwayne cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you… Beverlyn is hosting a screening for the first show of Higher Ground. I’d like you to go with me.”

  Again, the seconds stretched, with Nina’s gaze still lowered to the ground. “I don’t think so. I’ll be working.”

  “I haven’t even told you when.”

  She finally looked at him. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t go.”

  “It’s the day after tomorrow,” he said anyway. A moment later, he nodded. “I understand.” He opened her car door and then closed it after she had slipped inside. Without a final good-bye, Nina drove away, leaving Dwayne standing in the dust of the gravel that her car wheels left behind.

  Dwayne raised his head a bit and peeked through half-opened eyelids. Only one of the chairs was empty. Dwayne lowered his eyes once again with a smile. The only thing that would have made this night better was if Nina had come. But when he arrived at the church an hour or so earlier, she was not there. He waited in her office, until Lafayette arrived a half hour later, and together, the brothers christened the first official gathering of Man-to-Man.

  Instead of the fifteen or so they’d expected, nearly three dozen turned out for what would be the first of a series of intense sessions designed to support and encourage men through all the challenges they faced as breadwinners, fathers, husbands, and Christians. Just as with the women, their open and honest communication was encouraged.

  “I want to applaud you for coming out tonight. After ten years in private counseling practice, I am accustomed to the hesitation many men have in admitting that they need help, when in reality, we all do.

  “Unfortunately, some men let that self-sabotaging kind of pride stop them from seeking assistance when the stakes are far higher than just trying to get to a destination in their cars. Some of us flat-out refuse to say ‘Help!’ even when our lives, our mates, our families, finances, or spiritual growth are at risk.

  “The pride that keeps men from seeking needed help is based on a lie that says a man ought to handle every facet of his life all by himself. If he can’t, his excessive pride convinces him he’s a failure and less than a real man. And, of course, we avoid doing anything that might make us feel like a failure. A good friend of mine, Frank Wilson, says men are like turtles. Inside—soft, sensitive, and vulnerable, yet choosing to construct a tough outer covering for protection. We call them shells, he calls them masks.

  “Let’s start by taking off our masks tonight. I want to have everyone stand up and say a little about themselves.”

  “Good evening,” Deacon Sloan said. “My name is Isaac Sloan and I came here tonight to stand in support with the men of this church.”

  “My name is Don Adams,” said the next, “and I’m here out of curiosity, mostly.”

  Dwayne chuckled, as did the rest of the men, and one by one everyone shared—some just their names, others more. Then came the last introduction. “I’m Milton Wright, and I’m here because I need somebody to walk with me. I’m going through some difficult times and I may be the cause of them. I just don’t know how to turn around some of the destructive things that I do.”

  “Ah, man, we all know what you’re going through. Nearly everyone has at least one emotional slave master. It’s the psychological black hole that you trip into over and over in the normal course of living and loving. It’s that troublesome and persistent emotion you feel far more intensely—and more frequently—than you wish you did. You hate that you feel it, but you don’t quite know exactly why you feel it. You do suspect that it—and any other excess baggage you may be carrying—might be robbing you of too much of your peace and joy.

  “Maybe it’s jealousy, or insecurity, or anger, or resentment, or worry, or fear, or… Whatever it is, you return to it often, even when you try your hardest not to. In relationships with the opposite sex, you’re likely to try to get your mate to keep you from ever having to feel that negative feeling.

  “When you are a slave to a particular emotion, you spend huge amounts of time defending yourself, denying the feeling, or demanding the one you love order his or her steps to make room for your excess baggage. All of this, of course, leaves little time—or energy—for love.

  “If you’re a slave to insecurity, you’ll unknowingly require others to allay your fears.

  “If you’re a slave to jealousy, you’ll insist that your mate or girlfriend prove that you are more desirable to them than anyone else on the planet.

  “If you’re a slave to anger, you’ll demand that those around you make the world, and everything in it, work just the way you dictate.

  “If you’re a slave to self-doubt, you’ll look to others to do for you what you’re afraid to do for yourself.

  “The emotion that enslaves you won’t politely go away on its own. Freedom comes with a fight. I offer you this Emancipation Proclamation: Over the course of these sessions, ask for help. We will arm you with the skills necessary to free you from ‘emotional bondage.’

  “All around you in the Body of Christ are those whom God has placed to help you become, inside and out, more like Jesus. Pastors, and prayer partners, counselors, and intimate friends who know you well enough and love you deeply enough to encourage, rebuke, and support you in changing your style. You really don’t have to live your life enslaved to an ugly emotional or behavioral trait. If you stretch, freedom is within reach, by the grace and power of God. It can be yours if you will.

/>   “One, admit the need. Conviction followed by confession is the starting place. Resist denying, justifying, or excusing your excess baggage. These things only work to keep you stuck where you are.

  “Two, explore the origins of your problem. Often, knowing where you began to feel and act so angrily, fearfully, vengefully, selfishly, et cetera, helps you to determine why you are so attached to your excess baggage. You do what you do for a reason. Probably a distorted, self-deceptive reason that is inconsistent with what God says about you and about Himself. Here some sensitive, supportive help from others and consistent Scripture intake will be very beneficial.

  “Three, repent. Call your negative emotional, behavioral, and relational patterns ‘sin,’ not ‘just the way I am.’ Make a sincere, faith-filled commitment to participate in God’s purifying work in your life. Commit to no longer speaking and acting in accordance with your excess baggage. Keep the commitment when it feels good and when it doesn’t.

  “And finally, pray for God to reveal and heal you in that area. Then act, speak, and relate to others in ways that are the opposite of what your old habits dictate.

  “Remember”—Dwayne held up his hands—“what we are focusing in on here is strengthening ourselves to become men of God, not men of the world. That leaves one question for you privately to answer: Which do you really want to be? The goal of these sessions is to clearly delineate the difference.

  “Now, I really have talked too much. Are there any questions?” he asked, scanning the room, his eyes falling with surprise on a familiar face—that of his friend Sean Wiley, seated in the back. He’d only briefly discussed the first meeting of the group with Sean over the weekend.

  From the corner of his eye, Dwayne saw Lafayette stand. He had forgotten that he was there. When he faced his brother, Dwayne was pleased with the smile on his face. Lafayette raised his thumb in the air. Dwayne watched as he moved up toward the podium, indicating that the first session of Man-to-Man was about to come to a close.

  After taking three or four questions from the attendants, Dwayne handed the microphone back to Lafayette, who closed out with a congratulatory word to the men for turning out and making a commitment pledge to grow with the ministry and a word of prayer.