Marcus Redding Drives a U-Haul

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation.”

Marcus stepped onto the back of the truck. He looked up and grabbed the loop handle. He took one more look at their stuff—it only filled half the truck—and took a deep breath. He jumped off and pulled down the door. It shut with a clang and he pulled over the heavy metal latch. He wiped his hands on his jeans and turned around. A little line of cars waited in the parking lot of their apartment complex: Lauren’s brother Eddie in his pickup, Marcus’s dad in his pickup, and a few others who came out to help them move. Marcus gave them the thumbs-up. He walked around to the front of the truck and jumped in. Just him. Lauren was riding with Eddie. The U-Haul would be a rough ride for her.

So Marcus had time to think as he led the caravan from the middle of Tyler to the ranch in Henderson County. They decided to go for it. Actually Marcus had decided. There was a point last week where Lauren sat down on the couch, propped up her swollen feet, and declared, “I’m at 33 weeks, hormonal, emotional, and tired. This is up to you, Marcus. Either way I’m with you.” He trusted her for clear-minded, common-sense advice. She was just wise and forward thinking. But now it was up to him. The biggest decision he’d made in the few years they’d been married.

So he prayed: “God, which way should we go? Should I take this job and move out to the ranch? Should I wait for something more certain? How do I know what is best for my family?” His prayers were more questions than anything. But they always ended with, “Your will be done.” And it wasn’t just a punctuation mark, he really meant it.

He went around seeking counsel. His dad said, “There are no guarantees here buddy. Mr. Johnson has a good reputation. But there are no guarantees. Faith in God is the only guarantee.” He asked their preacher who said, “Think of God’s will as a pipe, there are a number of things that can flow your way that fit in that pipe, and all of them may be within his will.” He asked Lauren’s mom, the genetic source of Lauren’s wisdom. She took Marcus’s hands in hers and said, “In my life and in the lives of the Christians I know, I’ve learned this: sometimes God shows you three or four doors and lets you choose. Pray and decide. God will take care of you!”

Last Thursday, Lauren came home from work and he said, “Let’s go.” And she said, “Where?” And he said, “Let’s take the job.” And she didn’t hesitate, “All right, let’s go.”

He thought about these things as he turned west off the Loop onto 31. These thoughts fed a feeling he had never felt before. A mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Adventure. “Look at it as an adventure with God.” That’s what Eddie said. “You do something new, God provides the divine care, you respond with faith.”

Marcus was cursed (or blessed?) with a melancholy personality. He was introverted. He thought. He reflected. So as he rolled down 31 past the old Goodyear plant he remembered: fishing with Grandpa Sam, playing Little League, the squeal of tires, Bruce’s mom’s white handkerchief, the dark years, seeing Lauren in the computer lab, their wedding, their apartment, how he lost his job and found out Lauren was pregnant on the same day.

An adventure with God.

Time for the next chapter.

More about Marcus Redding’s journey of faith next week.