who dug deep

Marcus Redding: The Lost Episode

2010-09-09T06:23:00.007-05:00

Everything was a blur. He was 18 years old and lost. He was barely able to hold down a job, working for Gladebrook Sheetrock during the week and doing his best to imitate the prodigal son on the weekend.

The guilt over Bruce's accident had simmered for a while, then boiled over. Insomnia made it worse. Nightmares made it intolerable. Every time he heard a car come to a screeching halt he would have flashbacks. He grew farther apart from his family. He couldn't even talk to them. Wouldn't answer his dad's phone calls. He was too ashamed. They were good people. He used to be one of them. Not anymore. His tolerance for alcohol increased and his tolerance for people decreased. His temper could be set off with a word or a look or for no reason at all. He was on a downward spiral and he knew it. He felt like he deserved it.

But he wanted peace. That's what he would tell people. Not that they asked. But if anyone annoyed him it was, "Leave me alone. I just want peace." If his boss rebuked him for coming to work hung over, Marcus would say, "Leave me alone. I just want peace." Some guy would set him off and he would throw punches and yell, "Leave me alone. I just want peace." Satan had that kind of hold on him, crying out for peace in the middle of a fight he had started himself.

He really did want peace. He would come home and do Google searches for the word "peace." He kept scrolling down and scrolling down, looking for an answer, until he came across the word "halcyon." He liked history and legends. He read more, "The legendary bird is usually identified with the kingfisher that was also said to nest on the sea and was believed to be able to calm the sea for the seven days before and seven days after the winter solstice." He latched on to the idea. In the back of his mind he could almost hear a scripture that started with "Come to me..." but he pushed it away.

The next day was Labor Day. Since he didn't have to work, he went to get (another) tattoo. He had been saving his left forearm for a good one. He showed the guy a sketch of a stylized kingfisher. He sat for a few hours and forked over a few hundred dollars and now he had a symbol of his spiritual longing permanently engraved on his body.

On the way home from the tattoo place he stopped to get gas in his truck. An old man pulled up to the pump across from him. It wasn't his grandfather, but it looked like him. The man noticed Marcus was looking at him and just said, "Hello, son." Marcus nodded. And now he was thinking of Grandpa Sam and looking down at the nozzle in his gas tank so he wouldn't have to look at the man and be reminded of his saint of a grandfather. He finished filling up the tank and took the receipt and threw it away and jumped up into his truck. He started to pull away but somehow he lost all his energy. He could barely move his arms. He eased over by the side of the gas station and took the keys out of the ignition. A wave hit him. A wave of grief, guilt, and anger. He laid himself down in the cab of his truck and cried for a long time. Then he fell asleep.

When he woke up the sun was going down. His arm hurt where he got the tattoo. He sat up in the truck and remembered where he was. He went into the gas station to get an energy drink. When he came out of the store he looked over at the gas pumps and saw the same old man was still there, looking at him. Had he watched Marcus all this time? Marcus tried not to look at him but the man kept watching him. Marcus stopped and said, "Do I know you?"

The old man called out, "Matthew 8:26" and got in his Oldsmobile and drove off.

Marcus Redding Goes Home

2010-09-03T09:13:00.001-05:00

He had his cell phone on silent—the nature of the place required it—but he could feel it buzzing on his belt. A text message from Lauren read “Phil 3:13-14.” He knew the scripture. He wouldn’t leave Bruce’s memory behind but he had resolved to move on. This would be his last visit to his best friend’s grave.

He put his cell phone back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked down at his tattooed arms, at the green grass, at the granite stone. He knelt down and brushed away some dry leaves and plucked the grass that was growing over the edges. Then he placed his right hand flat on the stone and, like he had planned, recited 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14. He spoke to the stone. He spoke to the memory of his friend. He spoke to himself. After he finished, he took one more deep breath, stood up, and walked away. He sent a text message to Lauren, “I’m coming home.”

He got home at about nine in the morning and Lauren met him at the door, Micah in her arms. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and handed Micah to him. He hugged his little son, now six months old, and then hugged Lauren. She held him for a while then said, “Let’s eat and go.”

They were heading into Athens to hike the trail at the arboretum. They planned on coming back mid-afternoon and doing some things around the house. Marcus was making Lauren a rocking chair and Lauren had to cook for the potluck at church tomorrow. And they had to be ready for the Bible study they were hosting at six o’clock that night.

When they got to the arboretum Marcus hoisted the baby-carrying backpack onto his back. Lauren got Micah all settled in the pack, grabbed her camera, laced up her boots, and they were off. They meandered through the flower beds and down across the bridge into the woods. It was warm but not hot as they walked in the shade. Lauren reached over and took off Micah’s little hat. He was looking all around, happy as he could be, riding around on his daddy’s back. Marcus was quieter than usual, understandable since this was the anniversary of the accident, but Lauren didn’t want him to close in on himself. So she asked him the question she always asked to get the conversation going, “What’s been on your mind lately?” Marcus kept looking straight ahead, “You mean besides the obvious?” Lauren said, “Besides the obvious.”

Marcus said, “Justin and Mr. Johnson. I’m just excited for the opportunity. I mean, they are, what fifty years apart, and they both need Jesus, and they are both willing to listen. That’s pretty good.” Marcus seemed to come alive as he talked about it, “I’ve been thinking of different approaches. I think Mr. Johnson has more of a background than Justin, and I think I can be blunt with Mr. Johnson, but Justin is more sensitive. I’ve got those two evangelism studies that I got from John with those illustrations. I’m thinking I’ll just take them through those. What do you think?”

As they walked through the woods they talked about teaching people the gospel and the conversation turned to church and then the early days when they first met. They talked about living in their first apartment and moving to the ranch. Then they talked about ranch dressing and the casserole Lauren was making for the potluck. They talked about how to get Micah eating solid food. (Micah was asleep by now.) They talked about how fast Micah was growing up. They talked about taking pictures of him along the way. They talked about his upcoming doctor appointment and homeschool and saving money and finances and the economy.

Marcus began to feel the weight of the backpack and he checked the clock on his cell phone. “Lauren, it’s one o’clock already.” She looked up at him, “Time flies.” Marcus smiled at her and said, “Let’s make the most of it.”

They turned back, walked out of the woods, got in his truck, and headed home.

More about Marcus Redding's journey of faith...someday.

Written by God…Illustrated by Marcus Redding

2010-08-27T17:43:00.001-05:00

He talked to Justin about the gospel, now it was Mr. Johnson’s turn. He knew the old man believed in God and read his Bible and told the truth and treated people right. But that was all he knew. Marcus didn’t know if Mr. Johnson was a Cornelius or a Christian.

So one day when they were putting up a new section of fence and the time seemed right Marcus asked him, “What do you think about Jesus?” Some people would get defensive, others would wax poetic. Mr. Johnson was straightforward. “He is a great man. A great teacher. I like what he says and I try to live a Christian life.” He said all this as he ratcheted a length of barbed wire tighter. Marcus was working a posthole digger into the ground, “So what do you think will happen when you die?” Now Mr. Johnson put down his tools and looked at Marcus. Then he took a deep breath and looked into the distance. Thousand mile stare. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately,” Mr. Johnson was a sincere man, “I think that when I die and go to the pearly gates I’ll say ‘I always tried to be good.’ I think that will do.”

Marcus saw the opportunity. He finished digging the posthole and looked up. “Can I tell you a story Mr. Johnson?” The old man said, “Sure, talk while you work.”

Marcus started in. “I ran cross-country for one season in high school. One season was all I could take. It was hard. We’d run four to eight miles every day after school. Every Friday there was a meet. You would run as fast as you could for three or four miles. Running through woods, open pastures, parking lots, into and out of ditches, over tree roots and rocks. It was hard but the challenge made it fun. The best part was reaching the finish line. It was a big relief. Finally I could slow down, catch my breath, and eventually just come to a stop. And rest over the weekend. Until we had to get out and run again after school on Monday in preparation for another meet the following Friday. In which I would run like crazy again and try to do better again.

Here’s the deal, in cross-country, the finish line was in a different place than the starting line, but not far away. It would have been so nice if a race official came and told me I didn’t have to run that whole course. That I could reach my goal if I just trusted him and walked a few steps over there where they had that tape across the finish line. Totally off the course. Just a direct route to the finish. I didn’t have to do all that work.

You are a working man Mr. Johnson. But you can’t work for righteousness. Faith in Jesus Christ is what makes the difference. The word of the race official is like the word of the gospel. It tells you that you don’t have to do it yourself, in fact you can’t really do it yourself anyway. Just believe in Christ and his righteousness and you will have reached the finish line. That is good news. You have to believe in Jesus and submit to his commands and accept his righteousness. That’s how you get right with God. That’s how sins are forgiven. That’s how you get to heaven.”

Marcus finished digging another posthole and he looked up. “What do you think about that, Mr. Johnson?”

Mr. Johnson ratcheted tight another length of barbed wire. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

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

Marcus Redding Knows His Lyrics

2010-08-06T08:44:00.002-05:00

Last week Mr. Johnson told Justin and Marcus they needed to take a load of cattle to Waco on Thursday. Just the opportunity Marcus was looking for. They had worked together on the ranch for months and they were friends. Some unspoken connection because of Marcus’s past. He knew how to talk to Justin. Now he needed an open door.

On the drive to Waco they had plenty of time to talk. When Marcus talked about his past, Justin opened up. His dad died when he was ten. Sudden heart attack. And he was close to his dad. “He cooked pancakes for us every Saturday morning. It’s been eight years now but every time I smell pancakes I get angry.” Marcus understood in a way. He told Justin how every time he heard the squeal of tires it paralyzed him with fear and regret. With that tragedy in his past Marcus wasn’t surprised at the kind of music Justin liked.

Last weekend Justin went to a concert and he came to work wearing a shirt he picked up there. It had the name of one of his favorite groups. That gave Marcus an idea. He got online and listened to some of their songs and read the lyrics. Then he scrolled through the praise songs on his iPod and picked out one of his favorites. He printed the lyrics of both songs on one sheet of paper and tucked it into the front of his Bible.

After they delivered the cattle and headed back to the ranch Marcus told Justin to get the sheet of paper out of the Bible that was on the seat between them. “There’s a song you listen to—the same stuff I used to listen to—and then there’s a song I listen to now. Tell me what you think.”

I’m growing so disturbed/Nothing makes sense to me anymore/I’m learning to resist/Becoming more than you ever were/Can’t explain what’s come over me/Can’t explain why it’s so hard for me/So hard to see your side/ Projecting all my anger/I can’t seem to get this through to you/The walls are closing in/I dare you to walk in my shoes

I'm forgiven because you were forsaken/I'm accepted, You were condemned
I'm alive and well/Your spirit is within me/Because you died and rose again

Amazing love, how can it be?/That you, my king would die for me
Amazing love, I know it's true/It’s my joy to honor you

Justin read for a while. Then, suddenly, violently, he crumpled up the paper and threw it out the window. He didn’t say anything, just sat stoic, looking out the window. Marcus didn’t flinch. He had been there. “Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ Can I tell you about Jesus?”

Justin snapped, “Sure, go ahead, whatever.” It was a long drive back. Plenty of time. Marcus was driving so he had Justin read the scriptures. Marcus had them all marked in his Bible. Justin didn’t read out loud, but he would read each scripture silently then say, annoyed-sounding, “Okay, I read it.” Marcus took him through why he needed to be saved and how to be saved. He worked in his own story with the scriptures. He pulled up his sleeve and showed him the tattoo of the halcyon. He talked a lot about Jesus giving him rest.

They were getting close to home. Marcus finished. He had one last question, “What decision do you need to make?” Justin didn’t say anything. As soon as they pulled into the ranch, even before Marcus stopped the truck, Justin jumped out and ran to his ‘93 Mustang. He spun out in the driveway, kicking up gravel, and raced down the driveway.

Marcus wasn’t surprised. He was hopeful.

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

Marcus Redding Gets An Offer He Can Refuse

2010-07-30T08:25:00.002-05:00

“Marcus, can you come a little early to services tonight? Ed and I want to talk to you about doing some preaching. We still can’t get a hold of James and we’re in a bind.”

Mr. Walt called him at 3:00 on Sunday afternoon. Mr. Walt was one of the two elders at the little church in Rayville. Ever since Marcus gave an impromptu sermon the night the preacher resigned, he kind of expected this. He was ready to say no, but he agreed to talk with the elders, “Sure, Mr. Walt. See you at 5:30.”

When Marcus told Lauren why they’d have to leave early, she jumped on the idea. “Marcus, you’d be so good at this!” Marcus shook his head, “I serve behind the scenes.” Lauren urged him, “Marcus, don’t blow this off. I know you. I know your heart and you know scripture. You could really do a good job. You could really help this church. And you are young and that might attract more young people. I’d be so proud of you.” She kept up like this while they got Micah into his car seat. And for the entire 15 minute drive into Rayville Marcus gave reasons why he didn’t want to be an “interim” preacher, and Lauren countered with reasons why he should give it a shot. She was really laying it on. And though he didn’t say it, her words made him hesitate.

When they pulled up to the church building, they saw the elders’ two cars already there. Lauren looked at Marcus and sighed a talking-to-a-brick-wall sigh. She got out of the car and opened the back door to get Micah out of his car seat. Lauren was strong-willed and persuasive, but she knew for Marcus’s sake and for the Lord’s sake she had to be supportive. So as the three of them walked into the church building Lauren squeezed his hand and said, “I’m with you. Whatever you decide.” That made Marcus feel better. He gave them both a kiss before he slipped into the office to talk to the elders.

If Marcus thought Lauren was working on him, he didn’t know what was coming. At first they just asked Marcus if he had considered preaching. Marcus just said, “No, it’s not my gift.” Then they built their case. They knew his background. They knew his repentance. They knew his family. They were impressed by what they heard the other night. They suggested maybe his gift was speaking. But the more they talked, the more Marcus was persuaded not to accept their offer. And the more they talked, the more Romans 12:6-7 crystallized in his mind.

When they finished, Marcus said, “Guys, I appreciate the offer. I was glad to help out the other night. But I don’t need to preach in order to serve God.” Mr. Walt came back with, “Maybe the church needs you to preach in order to serve God.” Marcus was getting a little uncomfortable now. Why was everyone putting the heat on him?

Mr. Walt nodded to Mr. Ed, the other elder, and they brought out the big guns. “We could support you a little. $100 for every lesson.” If there was ever any possibility Marcus would accept their offer it disappeared instantly at the mention of money. Marcus quietly opened his Bible to Romans 12 and read out loud, “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving.”

He closed the Bible and told them about building Mrs. Hampel’s barn, about fixing Mrs. Louia’s sink, about repairing Mr. Silves’s lawnmower, about giving folks a ride to the airport, about setting a good example on the job, about doing personal evangelism, about spending time with his wife and his son.

“’If service, in our serving.’ That’s my gift. Preaching is important. But I don’t need to preach in order to serve God. It’s better to have a church full of servants than a church full of preachers, don’t you think?”

Mr. Walt chuckled, “That’s a sermon in itself.” He stood up and shook Marcus’s hand, “We appreciate you Marcus. Maybe you’d take turns preaching with some of the rest of us? Once a month or once every six weeks?” Marcus nodded, “I think that would be good.”

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

Marcus Redding is Attacked by a Lion

2010-07-23T10:09:00.001-05:00

Marcus was feeling pretty good about himself. After months out of a job now he lived and worked on Mr. Johnson’s ranch. He was back to 100% after his heat stroke. He helped out at church when they needed an emergency sermon and he did a good job. Everything was going well with him and his family. Things were good. So Monday afternoon when he stopped by the in-store bank to deposit his paycheck, his guard was down.

After his business at the bank he walked across the front of the store, past the rows of checkstands. It was about three in the afternoon. A few lines were open. Mostly older people picking up a few items. Or so he thought. He saw a pile of newspapers and stopped to look at the headlines for a bit. Then he heard a familiar voice call his name, “Marcus!” and someone hugged him from behind. He knew who it was. He knew from her perfume and her voice. It was Kelly. This was not good.

In the years since he had repented and straightened out his life he had gained control over his drinking. One day at a time. Every now and then he was tempted, but he didn’t drink anymore. He could handle that. In the years since he had repented he had gained control over his temper. There was that time he lost his cool at work but that was resolved pretty quickly, and it didn’t happen again. By God’s grace he had made a lot of progress. These struggles were always in the back of his mind. So he was on guard. But this chance meeting with an old girlfriend caught him by surprise. And it threw him into the middle of a battle between the Spirit and the flesh.

And it was a battle. A flood of thoughts competed for his attention. On one hand: late nights and early mornings doing things with Kelly that he should not have done. On the other hand: scriptures, spiritual songs, and a heightened awareness of his cell phone, which he could pull out at any time to call Lauren and say he was on his way home and walk out of the store and leave Kelly and his past behind him. An image of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife ran through his mind. All within the span of about two seconds. How was he going to get out of this?

He turned around. He didn’t want to look at her. But she didn’t cooperate. She held his arm and looked closely at it. Then she looked up at him, “I remember when you got this tattoo.” She smiled and swished back her long black hair. She was still holding his arm. Marcus pulled back so he could put down the newspaper. Something told him to leave but something else told him to be polite. Kelly looked down at six plastic grocery sacks at her feet. “Can you help me carry this stuff?” She looked back up at him, “I haven’t seen you for three years. Where have you been?”

Marcus was thrown off. He stammered something about his new job as he picked up the grocery bags and walked with her out of the store. Two voices shouted back and forth in his mind. One said, “Put down the groceries and walk away!” The other said, “Be polite, maybe you can help her!” Marcus asked about one of their mutual friends and Kelly started talking about other people they used to know. The voices got louder. Kelly walked a little ahead of him. Marcus was trying not to look at her. She got to her car and opened the back door. Marcus put in the groceries. She took out her cell phone and said, “Give me your number so we can catch up. I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you.”

Marcus shut the door and there they stood. She had her cell phone out. Ready to punch in his number. She was pretty, but she was bad news. The shouting match hurt his ears: “Walk away!” versus “You can help her!” But he remembered a fragment of a scripture, “the way of escape.” It was a piece of 1 Corinthians 10:13. He remembered his cell phone. He got it out and called Lauren and told her he was on his way home and he turned around and walked away and left Kelly and his past behind him.

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

Marcus Redding Fills In

2010-07-13T13:04:00.000-05:00

His folks came out to the ranch Saturday evening. David and Abigail wanted to help out with Micah a little bit. So for the first time in—they couldn’t remember how long—at least six months Marcus and Lauren got to spend an evening together. But just as they were about to leave Lauren stopped at the door. An invisible force field blocked her exit. It took at least five minutes for Marcus and his parents to persuade Lauren that Micah would be okay. Abigail said, “Sweetheart, we’ve got eighteen years of experience. You two just go and relax and have a good time.” Marcus halfway pulled her through the force field and they were off to Olive Garden.

David and Abigail watched Micah all that night so Marcus and Lauren could get some rest. They all got up and went to services together in the morning. The class was good. The services were fine. The sermon was about Abraham on his journey of faith. They visited some after services and went back out to the ranch to eat lunch and rest all afternoon. At 5:30 they headed back in to Rayville for evening services.

After a prayer and two songs the preacher got up to give his lesson. Or that’s what they thought would happen. Instead everyone got a surprise. As soon as he stepped into the pulpit, the preacher announced he was stepping down. And he did. Literally. Got down from the pulpit, walked up the aisle, met his wife in the foyer, and they walked out to the parking lot, got in their car, and drove away.

The sixty or so members of the congregation sat stunned, looking at each other like, “Did that really just happen?” After some long and awkward moments, the two elders of the church went to the front and spoke privately. Finally they went to the pulpit. One of them grabbed the microphone and cleared his throat and said, “Well, folks, umm, this is a surprise. We didn’t know of any problems with James and Kathy. I guess we’ll try to get a hold of him and see what’s wrong. If you know what’s going on, please let us know after services.” He looked nervously at the other elder, “Well, Walt, in the meantime we have a worship service here.”

Walt was already talking to Marcus’s dad, who filled in preaching every now and then. David nodded and was about to step into the aisle when Marcus put his hand on his dad’s shoulder. David turned around and looked at Marcus, “Dad, let me do it. Mr. Walt, would you mind if I gave a short message on John 16:33?” Walt gestured to the front of the auditorium.

This was the second shock of the evening. Marcus never spoke in church. Never commented in class. Never led prayers. Never even helped out with the Lord’s Supper. He was always involved but always behind the scenes.

He took his Bible to the pulpit. He opened to John 16:33 and read, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” What followed was a fifteen minute sermon in which Marcus used his own journey of faith to illustrate the saving power of Jesus Christ. He finished with words of calm and comfort to the church and issued a simple invitation. Marcus returned to his seat. His family, and most of the church, stared at him in wonder.

After services were over they piled into his truck. His folks sat in the back with Micah in the car seat between them. Lauren got in the passenger seat. As soon as the doors were shut, Lauren said, “Marcus, that was so good. I’m so proud of you.” Marcus shrugged, “I just had something to say from God’s word.”

Marcus glanced into the rearview mirror. His dad smiled. His mom patted his shoulder. Lauren squeezed his hand. Micah burped.

They drove home.

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

Marcus Redding Settles Into A Routine

2010-07-09T11:06:00.000-05:00

He had just thrown the last bag of V-28 Rangemaster Beef Feed into the back of his truck when his cell phone rang. Well, it didn’t actually “ring” but he heard his ringtone sound out loud, “I know I am loved by the King and it makes my heart want to sing.” He tapped the screen and said “Hello” as he jumped in the truck. “Hey, it’s me,” Lauren was calling to check on him, “Are you taking it easy?” She was worried he would push himself after his heat stroke episode last month. The macho side of him was a little annoyed that she was checking on him, but deep down he knew she only called because she cared. “Yeah, I am. I’m just coming back from the feed store right now. I’ll be in at 5:00.” Lauren said, “I’ve got fresh squash, purple hull peas, and porkchops tonight, sound good?” Marcus smiled, “Sounds great. Did you get the price on that PVC pipe to Mr. Johnson?” Lauren was on top of it, “Got it taken care of this morning. See you in a little bit.”

They were settling into a routine. Finally. They were all unpacked and moved in to their new place. Micah slept a little more during the night. Marcus had recovered from heat stroke and built up his endurance a little bit. Lauren started working a few hours with Lisa, learning how to keep the books and the website while Micah took a nap or bounced in his swing. It wasn’t every day they could count on a regular schedule, but more often than not he got in at 5:00 and they could have dinner and Bible study and spend the evening together.

Marcus rolled in at 5:02. He could smell the porkchops from the driveway. He kicked off his boots and opened the door and gave Lauren and Micah a kiss before he went to clean up. A few minutes later they sat down to eat and talked about their day. When they were done Marcus brought the dishes to Lauren and said, “That was delicious. Thank you for making dinner.” She said, “You’re welcome. Did you like the squash?” Marcus said, “Sure, I like everything you make, you are a good cook.” Lauren said, “I can do the dishes, go sit down with Micah.” Marcus thought that sounded good so he took Micah out of his little swing. Micah responded by spitting up on his dad’s shirt and laughing about it.

Ten minutes later the dishes and the shirts and the baby were cleaned up. Lauren got her Bible and sat down on the couch. Marcus said, “Go ahead and read John 16.” Marcus told Lauren he wanted them to have Bible study every night after dinner. They had been reading the gospel of John, a few chapters a night. Lauren opened her Bible and was about to begin reading when she looked up and saw Marcus holding Micah.

Maybe it was her still-unsettled hormones or maybe it was the negative memories of her own father that prompted her, but she laid the Bible down on the couch and walked over to Marcus and kissed him on the forehead and gave him a hug. Then she stood next to them, with one hand on Marcus’s shoulder and the other hand stroking Micah’s nearly bald head. Marcus didn’t say anything. After a while Lauren said, “I’m proud of you.” He kept looking at Micah and said, “Are you proud of me or him?” Lauren playfully slapped him on the shoulder, “I’m proud of you, silly.” She looked down at the tattoos that covered his arms: the flames, the crosses, the halcyon bird. “You’ve come a long way.”

Marcus kept looking at Micah, “The Lord has brought me a long way.” Lauren kept up the compliment, “He has. And you let him. I’m proud of you. And you’ve… umm…you’ve stepped up.” That was unexpected. Marcus looked up at her, “What do you mean?” Lauren kissed him on the forehead again and went back to the couch, “You made a tough call for us to move out here. And it’s worked out. You rolled the TV into the closet. You insisted we have Bible study every night. You’ve stepped up.”

Marcus looked down at Micah but spoke to Lauren, “Read John 16:33.” She turned the page and read the verse out loud.

Marcus kept looking at Micah but he was really looking at his past…and his future. He smiled a quiet smile, “Jesus has overcome the world.”

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

Marcus Redding on HDTV

2010-07-02T10:55:00.001-05:00

When the nurse came in with discharge instructions, she spoke as one who had authority, “Stay out of the sun. Stay out of the heat. Stay in air conditioned rooms for 48 hours. No more Mr. Tough Guy. Something worse could happen if you push yourself. Do you understand?” Marcus was surprised at how adamant she was. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” Lauren stood next to his hospital bed, holding Micah in one arm and holding Marcus’s hand in the other. She reassured the nurse, “I will restrain him if I have to.” She gave his hand a squeeze.

When Lauren got him to the ER they washed arms and torso with cool wet rags and put two fans on him to cool him down. They started an IV and replaced the icepacks under his armpits. His temperature came down and his mind cleared up. He was going to be all right. But they kept him overnight to make sure.

They got home around four o’clock the next day. There was a note on the door from Lisa, the office manager. It said, “I saw you leave and came by to see if everything was okay. I turned off the stove.” A few minutes later Mr. Johnson came by to check on Marcus. “I’ve got my own discharge orders,” the old man said. “You are staying out of the heat until Monday week. It will take you that long to get your strength back. Heat stroke is bad that way. Don’t push yourself, you hear?” Marcus said, “Yes, sir. But I hate being laid up for a week. I like to be busy.” Mr. Johnson was one step ahead of him, “I’m giving you a project you can work on inside. I want you and Lauren to work together to redesign the guest cabins. The ones we got now are too old. I’m tearing them down. I want y’all to draw up the plans for three new cabins, interior design, materials, cost, everything. Show me what you come up with next Monday morning and that will be your ticket to come back to work.”

Marcus knew a little about building houses. Lauren knew a lot about computers. So they worked together on the project every morning from nine to noon. In the afternoon Marcus watched Micah so Lauren could catch up on some rest. Monday afternoon he sat down on the couch to watch TV when he noticed the remote was sitting on top of his Bible. He paused. He looked down at Micah. Then he looked at the TV.

He remembered how Lauren told him about the day her mom came in from work and found little Lauren and Eddie watching The Simpsons. To their amazement Ruth opened the front door, unplugged the television, lugged the thing out to the sidewalk, and dropped it with a crash on the pavement. She marched back inside and told her wide-eyed children she was “tired of having the devil in their living room.” Lauren and Eddie whined and complained for three days straight. Then they learned to read books, play games, and play outside. They never missed the television again.

Marcus made a decision. The television was a on a cart with wheels so he just rolled it down the hall and pushed it into a closet and shut the door. He called the cable company and discontinued service. He found a pen and got out a yellow legal pad. He sat down at the table and composed the “Redding Family Television Policy.”

Lauren woke up from her nap and came into the living room. She sat down on the couch to feed Micah and looked at the empty space across from her, “Umm, Marcus, where is the television?” Marcus was ready, “I got tired of having the devil in my living room.” Lauren wondered if the heat stroke had affected his brain. He handed her the legal pad with the television policy. She read it and looked up at him. “What’s gotten into you, Mr. ESPN?”

Marcus said, “Your mom was right. But I’m not throwing the TV out. We can watch up to six hours a week. And we’ll make room for special events. But there are better things we can be doing with our time.” Then he got out his Bible and said, “I was reading something in John I wanted to talk to you about.”

He opened to John 8:31 and they talked about God’s word for the next half hour.

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

Marcus Redding Feels The Heat

2010-06-25T11:06:00.001-05:00

It was 3:45 p.m. on a Thursday in the middle of June. No clouds. Just sun. The heat index had to be over 100. And there was no shade where they were working.

All three of them were in a waist deep hole, tossing muddy dirt up and to the side. Justin was used to working outside in the hot weather plus he was 18 years old. Mr. Johnson, he’d been doing things like this all his life. He had on jeans and long sleeves and a cowboy hat and it didn’t seem to bother him any. But Marcus wasn’t used to this kind of work. He was a hard worker all right, he didn’t know any other way, but he didn’t know how to pace himself, and the 20 ounce Gatorade he brought with him wasn’t quite enough.

That morning Marcus had checked one of the bed-and-breakfast cabins on the ranch, getting it ready for some folks who would be staying the weekend. When he turned on the faucet, there was no water pressure. He called Mr. Johnson who said they replaced a leaky pipe a couple weeks ago outside that cabin, that must be the problem. They needed to fix it now because the cabin had to be ready by Friday morning. So Mr. Johnson brought the tools and the pipe and met Justin and Marcus at the cabin.

They almost had the pipe dug up when Mr. Johnson got a call on his cell. He answered and then jumped up out of the hole and walked away a few steps. He listened for a while and then sighed and closed the phone. “I’ve got to take care of something at the bank. Can you boys finish this up?” Justin said, “Sure, we’ll have it done in a half hour.” Marcus wasn’t so sure, he was starting get a little dizzy and he had a headache, but he didn’t want Justin to know that, so he reassured Mr. Johnson they could take care of it.

Marcus and Justin kept digging. After a while they found the leak and laid the new section of pipe. Marcus needed to walk over to the cabin to turn on the faucet but he barely made it. He was so hot. He turned on the faucet and everything was good. He stuck his head under the water for a while and that helped a little, but then he went back out to help Justin replace the dirt. Marcus was shaking and unsteady by the time they got done. When they got back into Marcus’s pickup, Justin offered him a Pepsi and he guzzled it down. Marcus dropped Justin off at the office then headed back to his ranch house. His calf muscles were all cramped up and it seemed like his heart was racing. He parked the truck and kicked his boots off on the garage floor and kind of stumbled inside the kitchen. Lauren was getting dinner together and Micah was in his little swing. When she saw him she said, “Your face is red as a beet! Are you okay?” Marcus whispered, “Ah juff nee a coo vergotz” and with that he lost his balance and almost fell. Lauren caught him and got him to sit down. His skin was hot and dry and his eyes weren’t really focusing.

Lauren grabbed Micah’s thermometer and put it into Marcus’s ear…104.6! “Marcus, you’ve got heat stroke.” She flew into emergency mode. She took off his shirt and ran to turn down the air conditioning to 60. She tried to get him to drink a glass of cool water but he spit it up after a few gulps. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” In seconds she grabbed her cell phone, grabbed two ice packs out of the freezer, and got Micah into his car seat in the car. She half dragged Marcus to the car and put the ice packs under his armpits. She started the car and sped down the driveway, kicking up a rooster tail of gravel. In her hurry she didn’t remember the pot of water boiling on the stove.

But what hospital? They were closer to Athens than Tyler. But where was the hospital in Athens? She’d never been there before. But she knew exactly how to get to the hospitals in Tyler. She turned and headed west. Micah was crying, her cell phone was ringing, and Marcus was muttering something that didn’t make sense. She was trying not to panic. As she flew down the highway at 85 miles per hour she kept repeating Psalm 86:7 “In the day of my trouble I call upon you, for you answer me.”

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

Marcus Redding: Tired But Happy

2010-06-03T20:47:00.000-05:00

Micah was crying and Marcus heard Lauren mumble something that sounded like, “So tired…” He fumbled in the dark for his cell phone and pushed a couple buttons to light it up. 2:41 a.m. Marcus leaned over and said, “I’ll take him.” Lauren mumbled more clearly now, “No, you need to rest too, you are exhausted.” Marcus said, “Yeah, but I’m not recovering from major surgery. Let me take him, 1 Peter 3:7 you know.” Lauren relented, “I feel that scripture right now,” and she turned over and went back to sleep. Marcus wrapped up Micah and took him out of the bedroom to walk him back to sleep. Back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, down the hall, around the extra bedroom, back up the hall. He didn’t mind at all.

He was tired enough to sleep through the night. Mr. Johnson might have been in his seventies but he could outwork Marcus. Just today they cut down a couple pine trees, repaired the a/c unit on one of the cabins, baled hay, and doctored a hurt calf. It was a new kind of work for him and his body was still adjusting.

They couldn’t have made it without Ruth’s help the first week. Marcus took the first few days off then Ruth came and stayed at the ranch house and cooked and watched Micah some so Lauren could rest. Sometimes Mr. Johnson would come in a check on everyone. He met Ruth and they started to talk. Mr. Johnson even called her during the week. When Ruth got off the phone with him she saw Lauren looking at her, “I know what that look means. The man is twenty years older than me. So don’t get any ideas.” Lauren laughed but the laughter hurt her stomach, “Ouch…it’s his ideas I’m worried about, mom.” Lauren laughed some more, “C-section…ha-ha…ow…ha-ha…ouch…”

But now Ruth had gone back home to screen Mr. Johnson’s calls and Marcus and Lauren were on their own. Just the three of them. And they felt like they were really on their own for the first time. It was exciting, even though they were busy and both of them were exhausted. They had a new house, a new baby, a new start…and they were going to a new church.

They didn’t go with the crowd on this one. So many people would drive farther to a bigger church instead of going to a smaller church close by. But Marcus knew the value of a fresh start and even before they moved out to the ranch he told Lauren he was thinking about the little church in Rayville. She wasn’t too sure. She was thinking young families and support and friends their age. They visited a few times before Micah was born. There were only a few people their age, part of three generation families. But the folks were friendly, the preaching was good, they had a couple elders and some deacons. It seemed to be a well-organized and busy group of folks. Maybe they wouldn’t stay there forever, but it was good for now. Marcus had been reading Romans and told Lauren about this verse, “’Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.’ So maybe it’s not about what we can get out of it, but what we can do to help the church.”

Lauren wanted to keep Micah in for the first few weeks so the first Sunday after Micah was born a few of the ladies met Marcus at the door and told him they had food for them in the refrigerator. A nice surprise. But he was more surprised after services when they brought it out to his truck: broccoli and cheese casserole, brisket, big pot of chili, chicken pot pie, sweet potato pie, three kinds of salad, homegrown fruit. And there was a note from a few of the ladies in which they offered to come by and watch Micah for a while so Lauren could get some rest.

Marcus got home and brought in the food and showed Lauren the note. She looked at the food, she looked down at Micah, she looked around the house, and she looked at her husband. “Jehovah Jireh,” she said. “The Lord will provide.”

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

Marcus Redding Starts Early

2010-05-28T10:18:00.002-05:00

A nurse knocked quietly on the door. Marcus started to get up but she said, “No, you’re okay, just stay right there.” She checked Micah’s vitals. “He’s good. Do you need anything?” Marcus shook his head and the nurse made some notes the chart. She stepped back out and closed the door.

Everything was quiet. Marcus thought about the events of the last 18 hours. Lauren’s water broke at the restaurant, so everyone followed Marcus and Lauren to the hospital, relocating Noah’s graduation party to the waiting room. They called Lauren’s mom and her brother Eddie and they met everybody up there. It was one big family reunion/graduation party/slumber party. But it was no party for Lauren. Ten hours in labor and no progress. The epidural was effective, Lauren was okay—physically—and so was Micah. But he was content to stay right where he was. They waited and waited and looked at the monitor and watched the clock. Finally the doctor came and they wheeled her down to the operating room. They let Marcus come in and snap a picture of the great arrival. Micah swallowed some meconium, creating brief drama, but they took care of it quickly. They monitored his breathing and blood-oxygen levels and he was fine. Everyone from the slumber party took turns walking down to the recovery room to greet Micah and congratulate Marcus and Lauren.

As the afternoon went on they moved to their own room. For a long time Lauren held Micah and looked at him and talked to him. It took a combination of Marcus’ urging and her own exhaustion to persuade her to get her first sleep in 40 hours. While she got some rest, Marcus held Micah—Micah Samuel Redding—in his lap and rocked him in the rocking chair.

Everything was quiet except for the hum of the a/c unit. He watched the Weather Channel for a while but the big “H” was still parked over the South. Their laptop was sitting on the tray that goes over the bed. He held Micah in his left arm and reached out and rolled the tray to him. He arranged things just right and flipped open the computer. They had wireless internet access. Nice. He went to biblegateway.com and did a search for “children” in the Old Testament.

This scripture caught his eye, “He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments” (Psalm 78:5-7).

He thought about his grandfather. He just missed his great-grandson by a few months! Grandpa Sam passed his faith on to Marcus’s dad who passed it on to Marcus. Now it was Marcus’s turn to pass his faith on to Micah.

So he brought up the gospel of John and started reading to his son, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…”

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

Marcus Redding's Friday Night

2010-05-21T09:26:00.001-05:00

Husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way (1 Peter 3:7)

Mr. Johnson let Marcus take off the rest of the afternoons this week so he could unpack. The baby was due soon, within two weeks, so they wanted to get settled before Micah came home. Marcus was making progress, but Lauren would get home from work, exhausted, ready to relax, and see that Marcus had insane ideas about interior design. Hanging pictures for example. Marcus thought their wedding portrait would go nicely in the kitchen. But when Lauren got home and saw this special memory right above the spice rack she asked Marcus what in the world he was thinking. She grabbed a chair and was about to step up on it to take down the picture when Marcus intervened. “Lauren, Lauren, relax. Here’s what we’ll do. You get off your feet and sit down and rest. I get things out of the boxes and hold them up. We’ll talk about the best place for them and I’ll do the lifting and stepping.” This worked out well. And they had most everything done by Friday. Just in time to go to Noah’s graduation.

Rejoice with those who rejoice (Romans 12:15)

Noah was Marcus’s cousin. He was graduating from high school. Everyone in Marcus’s family graduated from high school except Marcus. He dropped out of school after the accident and got his GED when he started to turn his life around. It always brought back bad memories when he heard the word “graduation.” And even worse memories when it was from his old high school. So he had an unusual aversion to graduation. But Noah was his cousin, and Noah was a Christian, and unlike most seniors, he wasn’t going out with his friends afterwards. Noah wanted all his family to get together and go out to Mercado’s and celebrate with him. So Friday night Marcus and Lauren headed into town. It was a perfect evening for an outdoor graduation: sunny day, 72 degrees, slight breeze from the north. Marcus sat next to Lauren in the bleachers and held her hand. He watched the procession, listened to the bland graduation speeches, and clapped for Noah. As soon as the kids all threw their hats into the air. Lauren squeezed his hand. He thought it was like a happy, hooray-for-Noah squeeze, but when he looked at Lauren she was wincing.

you do not know what a day may bring (Proverbs 27:1)

“Lauren, is it time?” She kind of caught her breath. “Um, I don’t know. It might have been a Braxton-Hicks contraction.” She’d been having those on a regular basis, just like the doctor said she should. But she didn’t want to draw attention to herself and away from Noah, especially if she was jumping the gun and this turned out to be a false alarm. “It’s okay, let’s go.” So with concern and excitement Marcus helped her stand up and walk down the steps and back to the car. They met all the family at Mercado’s and Lauren didn’t have anymore contractions. Everyone brought in graduation presents for Noah and they piled these on one end of the table. Chips and salsa and enchiladas and burritos were consumed and everyone was smiling. It was a happy time. After dinner Noah opened his presents one by one and thanked everyone. He asked his uncle, Marcus’s dad, to lead a prayer for him. As soon as he said “Amen” Lauren looked up at Marcus and said, “My water broke.”

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

Marcus Redding Works Security

2010-05-14T09:17:00.001-05:00

Mr. Johnson said good night and walked out the door. Marcus slowly closed it behind him. He stood at the door for a moment, looking at the doorknob, thinking. He heard junebugs buzzing outside. He turned off the porch light. He thought, “What have I gotten us into?” He took a deep breath and turned around and walked back to the kitchen table.

Lauren was leaning back, eyes closed, feet propped up on a chair. Marcus took hold of her right foot and gently pressed around her ankle. A little swollen. He sat down and said, “Well, that was interesting.” Keeping her eyes closed, Lauren said knowingly, “You’re not talking about my ankles, are you?”

She opened her eyes. She sat up and looked at Marcus. “What do you think about what he said about giving us the ranch?” Her tone sounded desperate. “I’m thinking about it.” Marcus saw a difficult conversation coming. Lauren went on, “This is a problem Marcus. He told us this ranch could be ours. I mean, that’s nice and I understand about Grandpa Sam and all that, but he doesn’t know us! We don’t know him! We don’t know if this is even going to work out for even a little while! I thought this was going to be a job, a place for us to get started, but he wants us to be the heirs to his kingdom. I don’t know about raising a family out here. There are no neighbors, the church is small, I might be able to handle the books and all that, but you’ve got the hard job working outside all the time. I don’t know about this.”

By now tears welled up in her eyes. She went on, “Look at my ankles. Look at my belly. Look at these boxes. I am due in less than two weeks, we haven’t hardly got settled, and now Mr. Johnson wants us to be 21^st century Jolly Ranchers...I don’t want to be trapped out here.” Now she started sobbing. “Oh boy,” thought Marcus, “now what do I say?” He looked at Lauren: red eyes, round belly, swollen ankles, TJC employee identification card still hung around her neck, shaking with her sobs.

Security. That one word came to his mind. That’s what she needs. Then he thought of Ephesians 5:25, “Husbands, love your wives.” So he stood up and walked to the couch and removed the six boxes that had been stacked there. He found a pillow. He walked back to the kitchen table and took Lauren’s hand. “What are you doing?” she said between sobs. “Come here,” he said, and he pulled her up and led her to the couch. He sat down at one end and put the pillow in his lap. “Lay down,” he said. “What are you doing?” she said, wiping her eyes. “Just lay down.” She sat on the edge of the couch and slowly swung her legs around and laid her head down on the pillow on his lap. He kissed her forehead and ran his finger through her long black hair and they stayed like that for several minutes. Just quiet. No sound except for junebugs and a sniffle or two.

“Lauren.” He just said her name. “What?” she said. And for a fleeting moment she looked up at him like a little girl who needed reassurance. Lauren, who was always confident, always reassuring others. “We are going to be fine. We are going to be just fine. And as far as Mr. Johnson goes…he’s an old sentimental man. He loves this place and doesn’t want to see it split up and sold off. Don’t worry about that. I don’t think he’ll pressure us into it. If he does, I’ll talk to him. Let’s take it one step at a time and see what happens. And these boxes, I’ll ask Mr. Johnson if I can take some time to unpack so you don’t have to. We’ll work it out. One step at a time. We’ll be okay. The Lord has taken care of us up to now, he won’t let us down.”

Lauren took a deep breath. “Okay, I know. You are right. I just want the best for this baby. And for us.” She was quiet for a while, then she looked back up at Marcus. “You know how we haven’t been able to come up with a name? I found one. It’s in 2 Samuel 9:12. Look it up. See if you like it.”

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

Marcus Redding's Future?

2010-05-14T06:54:00.001-05:00

So Mr. Johnson was telling Marcus and Lauren that he was showing them kindness to honor Marcus’s grandfather. Just like David and Mephibosheth. That was how he started their dinner table conversation on this, the first night they would spend in their new home. But Mr. Johnson had more to say.

“Three months ago Carl said he was leaving. He’s worked for me longer than you two have been alive. Wasn’t sure what I’d do without him. He’s like my right arm. He runs this place. He’s as much a part of this ranch as the trees and the trails and this house. See, I’m an old man. I never married. I don’t have kids. My nieces and nephews are not interested in this place. They live in Austin and they have bumper stickers on their hybrid cars that say ‘Keep Austin Weird.’” All three of them laughed. “So Carl leaving forced me to think about the future. I didn’t want to just sell this place to whoever. I wanted to pass this place on to someone. To a family. So I started to pray about it. Wasn’t sure really what to do, I just prayed and prayed for wisdom. James 1:5 you know.”

Then he reached into his back pocket and produced a piece of paper. It had lines where it had been folded. It was wrinkled and worn. But from the way he handled it, it seemed to be important. He put it down on the table and smoothed it out and looked at it carefully. Then he looked up and out the window for a while. He ran his hand through his wavy, silver hair. He gestured for Marcus and Lauren to look at the paper. They scooted their chairs over to his side of the table so they could read it.

At the top Mr. Johnson had written, “Honest and hard working Christian couple. Strong work ethic. Organized. Self-starters. Eye for detail.” Under that were two lists. Written in pencil. Each list had five items.

“He has to: be self-disciplined, work within a budget, handle physical labor, take care of livestock, willing to learn all aspects of ranch management. She has to: be a good organizer, relate and communicate well, be a good administrator, have above average computer skills, be a good housekeeper and cook.”

“I was hoping for a couple like this. So Marcus when I heard about your name, well I already knew a lot about you. And Lauren, I know Mr. Condlefur up at TJC so I called him to find out about you. Then it turns out my niece went to school with your mother Ruth. And she couldn’t say enough good things about her.”

He hesitated and looked at Marcus, “This might be a little much right now, you might not think of it this way, and I’m not putting pressure on you with this, but I just wanted you to know what was on my mind. If this works out. If y’all like it here…I’d like to honor the memory of Sam Redding by doing something for his family. This place can be yours someday.”

Marcus and Lauren were stunned. Was this really happening? Were they really in their little apartment a few weeks ago? Had Marcus hit dead end after dead end looking for work? Was this man really offering them steady work for Marcus, part-time work for Lauren so she could stay at home with the baby, and what seemed like a pretty secure future?

Marcus spoke up, “Mr. Johnson, thank you for all this. Thank you. It’s a lot to think about right now, especially with the baby coming and all. Let Lauren and I talk about it and pray about it and we’ll talk with you again. We appreciate it very much.”

“I understand.” He stood up and shook Marcus’s hand and put his arm around Lauren and gave her a side hug. “We’ll talk about it more later. See you at 6 in the morning at my house Marcus.”

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

Marcus Redding's First Day on the Ranch

2010-04-30T09:43:00.000-05:00

Monday morning at 7:00 a.m. Marcus stood in the driveway outside his new ranch house. An old pickup truck rolled in. Mr. Johnson was driving. He rolled down the window and gestured to a teenager sitting in the passenger side. “This is Justin. He’s going to be a senior at Brownsboro. He’s been my ranch hand for about a year now. Just started his summer break but he doesn’t get a break out here. Right, son?” He slapped him on the leg. “Yes, sir,” Justin said. Mr. Johnson turned back to Marcus. “Jump in. We’ll show you around.”

Mr. Johnson talked as he drove through the ranch. He had a quiet voice and Marcus had to strain to hear him. “300 acres. Goes back to my great-great grandfather. He was a criminal. Shot a man he thought was stealing his cattle. Johnsons have a temper.” Marcus took a nervous sideways look at Mr. Johnson, who winked at him. “Don’t worry, the Lord has taken care of that. James 1:19-21. I live by those verses, and some others.”

Mr. Johnson went on, “Livestock. You’ll learn how to inoculate, separate the sick, build feed troughs, make sure calves don’t get separated from their mothers. Check fences. Always check fences. We had that windstorm last Friday night. See over there.” Mr. Johnson kept his hands on the wheel and pointed with one finger. Marcus saw where an oak had fallen into a fence. The tree was cut up and the fence had been repaired.

“You’ll run the tractor. Bale hay. Identify and remove exotic plants. Hogs tear up the place. You have to set traps. Shoot the hogs when you can. Doesn’t make much difference though. Maintain the trails and roads. Do some welding. Keep the garden. I’ve got three guest cabins. Every weekend at least one is occupied. You and Lauren will take care of them. Cleaning. Laundry. Maintenance.”

Mr. Johnson paused. “Overwhelmed?” “Yes, sir, just a little.” Mr. Johnson spoke reassuringly, “Justin will help. There’s a couple other boys that help out. I’m 75 years old but I’d like to be around for a while longer. I’ll teach you how to do it all.”

Lauren left TJC that afternoon and drove out to the ranch. Mr. Johnson met her at the office just off from his house. He greeted her courteously and held the door as she walked inside. A lady behind a big desk stood and walked up to them. Mr. Johnson said, “This is Lisa. She’s the dragon lady.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “If I get out of line she brings me back in. She’s been running the office for 25 years and she’s moving on. Everybody’s leaving me. She’ll show you everything. I gave Marcus a chainsaw. He’s out cutting up some trees. I’ll meet both of y’all back at your house at 6:00.”

Lauren was surprised at Lisa’s warmth and friendliness. She took Lauren’s hands in hers and asked about the baby and said she had heard so many good things about Lauren and she was so happy to meet her. Lisa got Lauren a chair and pulled it up behind the desk, “The office is the hub of the ranch. The three key words are: friendly, efficient, and clean. I’ll show you how to process receivables and payables, make changes and updates in the reservations, organize the office, order supplies, keep Mr. Johnson’s schedule, answer the phone, keep up the website, answer email.” They spent a couple hours talking about family and talking about work. Everything sounded good. Lauren was hopeful.

At 6:00 Mr. Johnson met them at their house. They walked inside and sat at the kitchen table. Mr. Johnson set his hat down and ran his fingers through his silver, wavy hair. “Do you know the story of Mephibosheth?” Marcus kind of remembered. Lauren knew it well, “He was Jonathan’s son. Lame in both feet. David wanted to show kindness to him to honor Jonathan’s memory so he gave him his share of Saul’s land and made sure he was always taken care of.”

Mr. Johnson didn’t say anything. He just looked at Marcus and Lauren and smiled. They looked back at him for a while. Then they looked at each other. They got it.

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

Marcus Redding Drives a U-Haul

2010-04-23T08:24:00.001-05:00

“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.

Marcus Redding Makes a List

2010-04-16T07:29:00.000-05:00

“Where would we live?” That was Lauren’s question. She was almost eight months pregnant and thinking “home.” Marcus had no questions. He was eight months unemployed and thinking “job.” Before, Marcus was hesitant and Lauren was excited. Now they had reversed roles.

Mr. Johnson wanted Marcus to be his right hand man. He would show Marcus how to run his ranch. Lauren, sharp as a tack when it came to numbers, would have part-time work keeping his books. They could live in the 1500 square-foot ranch house on his property out in Henderson County close to Larue. Steady work for Marcus, Lauren could stay at home, they’d have a nice place to live in the country. It sounded like a Joseph-Potiphar situation, minus the slavery and Potiphar’s wife. Mr. Johnson never married.

But Lauren had questions. “We’re putting all our eggs in Mr. Johnson’s basket. How do we know his business will keep going strong? What do we know about his character? Larue is way out there. I’ll have the baby in a month or so. The timing is inconvenient.”

She wasn’t protesting as much as thinking out loud. Marcus knew in the back of his mind he should be cautious but he was ready to get to work. He countered her concern, “Or is the timing perfect? We could get all moved in in just a couple weeks and be all ready for the baby.”

Marcus saw a green light, but Lauren saw yellow. “There’s the sentimentality factor here. Mr. Johnson’s connection with your grandfather. I wonder if that will keep us from making a clear decision.” Now Marcus was getting frustrated. He stopped and looked at Lauren. She raised her eyebrows and looked right back at him as if to say, “I have a point, don’t I?” Marcus took a deep breath. He went over to the printer and got out a clean sheet of paper. He got a pen out of the drawer in the kitchen and sat down at the table. He drew a line down the middle of the paper.

On one side he wrote “pros” and they made a list: start making money now, get settled before the baby is born, house instead of apartment, long term place to live, Lauren can stay at home, Lauren has part time work, we can work together (Lauren said, “Is that a pro or a con?”)

On the other side he wrote “cons”: isolated, farther from family and stores, etc., is there a good church out there?, long-term stability of job, Marcus has to learn something new, don’t really know Mr. Johnson, snakes (Lauren hated snakes.)

It turned out to be a symmetrical list: seven items on each side. They looked at the paper for a while hoping it would make the decision for them.

Marcus broke the silence. “What scripture can help us here?” Lauren thought for a second. Then she said, “James 1.” She looked it up and read it out loud, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.”

Marcus said, “Well that’s me. I lack wisdom.” He took another deep breath and said, with some resolve, “Let’s pray about it for one week. In the meantime we’ll get advice from people we trust: your mom, my dad, people at church. One week from today we’ll meet right back here and make a decision.”

Lauren was proud of Marcus. She said, “Okay, let’s pray now.” And they did.

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

Marcus Redding Makes A Man Cry On His Pancakes

2010-04-09T09:06:00.002-05:00

“My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death

and will cover a multitude of sins.”

James 5:19-20

“That’s all he would tell me. ‘Meet me there tomorrow morning at 8:00.’” Marcus was recounting the surprising turn of events at the barber shop yesterday morning. Lauren was shaking her head in wonder. “This may be the answer to our prayers Marcus.” She took his hand and put it on her now-obviously pregnant belly. “Just what the three of us need.” Marcus was both doubtful and hopeful. But he didn’t express either one to Lauren. He didn’t want to get her hopes up and he didn’t want to let her know how uncertain he was about the whole thing. So he just said, “I’ll talk to him.”

Marcus stepped inside The Shed at 7:55. It smelled of sausage and coffee and cigarette smoke. It was the middle of the breakfast rush. He didn’t know what Mr. Johnson looked like so he just stood by the door for a minute until a girl walked up, wiping her hands on a white apron. “Are you Marcus Redding?” “Yeah.” “Mr. Johnson’s here. Follow me.” She took him into the non-smoking section and they had to twist their way through a mass of diners until they got to a table for two right in the middle of the room.

There was seated a man in his late seventies or early eighties, lean and tall, with a weather-worn face and calloused hands. He didn’t stand out from anyone else except for his full head of unusually wavy sliver hair. Marcus reached out to shake his hand and Mr. Johnson stood up. Courteously and quietly, he said he was glad to meet Marcus and invited him to sit down. But Mr. Johnson kept looking at Marcus as if he was expecting a reaction. Marcus noticed on the table in front of him was a plate of pancakes covered with pecans. A little dish of strawberry jelly sat nearby. Marcus was so surprised that he kept his eyes on the food while he said, “This is what my grandpa used to make for me every Saturday morning. Pecan pancakes. With strawberry jelly.”

When he looked up, he could see Mr. Johnson had tears in his eyes. He blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffed and got out a handkerchief and blew his nose. Then he chuckled. “Well, let’s give thanks.” Mr. Johnson led a short prayer for the food. “Eat up, Marcus. Enjoy.” He had a surprisingly quiet voice, Marcus had to strain to hear him among the clatter of plates and silverware. “Thank you…sir” Marcus stammered, still not sure about the whole situation, “But…” Mr. Johnson interrupted him, “How did I know that your grandfather made you pecan pancakes with strawberry jelly? Can I tell you a story?” Marcus nodded. “Okay, you eat and I’ll talk.”

Mr. Johnson told Marcus how he grew up between Moore Station and Fincastle out in Henderson County. How he was the oldest child in a family of five. How his father was an alcoholic and his sweet mother held the family together, taking them to worship services every Sunday and Wednesday. How he liked going to church and reading the Bible and he was baptized during his first year in high school. But then his father was killed in a farm accident and he took it hard. He started to drink and dropped out of school and went to work at the canning plant. And that’s where he met Sam Redding who took a liking to him and helped him clean up his life. Sam got him a better job at a filling station in Athens and they went to worship services together every Wednesday and Sunday. Eventually Sam moved on and Mr. Johnson started the Johnson-Child convenience stores. But he always stayed in touch with Sam through the years. And Sam always told him about his grandkids. And that’s how he knew about the pecan pancakes. “So when I heard your name was Redding, I thought of your grandfather and how he helped me. I suppose its time to return the favor.”

They talked for the next hour about returning the favor. Marcus couldn’t wait to tell Lauren.

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

Marcus Redding Has a Lead

2010-04-02T12:14:00.001-05:00

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good,

for those who are called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28

She was in the middle of a haircut when he walked in. Three other men read magazines as they waited their turn. There were no empty chairs but he was too anxious to sit anyway. He stood by the door and Stephanie the barber talked to him while she worked.

“Hi Marcus. My friend Nancy came in the other day. She works at the Johnson-Child gas station in Chandler.” Marcus remembered Nancy. He delivered to that store every Wednesday for the last couple years. Stephanie went on, “We went to high school together. So whenever she comes in we talk about old friends. She told me that Mr. Johnson, the owner of the store, came in the other day and said that Carl Burns had to move to North Carolina to help his wife look after her mom. Carl was Mr. Johnson’s right hand man, worked for him since he graduated high school, ran his ranch for him and kept his books and helped him build up the business. Do you know how many stores Mr. Johnson has?” Marcus recognized the Johnson-Child name, “Yeah, they have, what, 20 or 30 stores in East Texas right?” Stephanie kept talking as she switched on the hair clippers, “So Mr. Johnson was telling Nancy how he needed someone to take Carl’s place. He wanted someone young and reliable that he could train.” She paused and looked up at Marcus, who was now feeling a little uncomfortable as the other four men in the barber shop were looking at him.

Marcus was quick with an answer, “That’s not the job for me.” Stephanie switched off the clippers and picked up her scissors and kept working as she talked, “So when Nancy was telling me this story I remembered you were looking for a job and I told her about you. I said, ‘there’s this kid that comes in, tattoos up and down his arms, but super-nice kid, he’s looking for a job.’ And Nancy’s eyes light up and she says, ‘Are you talking about Marcus Redding? He used to work for Colby’s Wholesale. I haven’t seen him for months. Used to come in every Wednesday. He was such a nice kid that I even called his boss one time and complimented him.’ So that’s a coincidence, don’t you think?”

This was a little overwhelming. Marcus just repeated, “That’s not the job for me.” Stephanie kept right on snipping, “Why don’t you talk to Nancy and get Mr. Johnson’s number? Can’t hurt to try.”

“I don’t think so. Thanks for thinking of me, though. I appreciate it.” Marcus had already dismissed the whole idea and he was halfway out the door when one of the old men waiting for a haircut said, “Wait a minute, son. Just wait a minute there.” And he got out his iPhone. As he was looking down and running his finger over the screen he said, “I go to church with Mr. Johnson. I’ve got his number right here.” He tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear and winked at Stephanie. He looked at Marcus, “Just stay right there.” He paused a few seconds, “Hey, Arnie. It’s Jim. Say, I heard Carl Burns was leaving you…” There was a pause during which he gestured to Marcus as if to say, “Stay right there.” “Look, I’m at the barber shop here and there’s a kid here you ought to talk to. He’s got a good reputation. His name is…what’s your last name son?” Marcus told him. The man repeated it into the phone, “Redding.”

And the old man held the phone out for Marcus, who looked around and laughed and said, “This is crazy.” The old man just sat there with the phone held out. Marcus took a deep breath and took the phone. He said, “This is Marcus Redding.” Mr. Johnson didn’t say anything for a while. Marcus wondered if he was still there. “Hello?” Marcus asked. Finally Mr. Johnson spoke, very slowly, as if he was surprised by something, “Are you kin to Sam Redding?” “Yes, sir. Sam was my grandfather.” A long pause.

“You know where The Shed is, in Edom?” “Yes, sir.”

“Meet me there tomorrow morning at 8:00.”

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

Marcus Redding Has A Long Day

2010-03-05T10:19:00.004-06:00

Lauren got home about 5:30 and there was no sign of Marcus. His truck wasn’t in the parking lot. He hadn’t called her or left a text message all day. He didn’t leave a note on the kitchen table. She knew this was the day he was taking Evelyn to the doctor. But that was six hours ago.

Marcus heard his cell phone ring but he couldn’t get it. He was under a sink in a tiny bathroom just off the guest room in Evelyn’s house. He was wet from his collar to his belt. His hands were dirty and so was the ivory-colored tile on the bathroom floor, tools scattered on the floor. Marcus knew it was Lauren calling. He regretted not calling her sooner. Maybe she could have helped him out of this mess! At least distracted Evelyn who kept hovering over him and asking if he had everything fixed yet. “Almost got it!” Marcus said. “Just clean up after yourself,” she grumbled and plodded back into the living room clutching her walker.

Finally he did finish. He cleaned up the best he could and slipped into the living room. He wanted to say a quick goodbye but Evelyn asked if Marcus could take her back to the doctor next week for a blood test. “I’ll give you a call,” he said as he backed out the door. While walking out to his truck he checked his cell phone and noticed he had missed two calls. One was from Lauren. He called her. She answered with, “How was your day?” Marcus had to laugh, “I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

An hour later Marcus was sitting on the couch in their apartment eating Lauren’s spicy rigatoni and between bites telling her the epic saga of his day. They had arrived over an hour early at the doctor’s office and Marcus, at Evelyn’s request, spent most of the time scouring the waiting room for the February issue of “Better Homes and Gardens.” Then a nurse called him to the window and asked if he was her grandson. He said he was just a friend from church. The nurse explained Evelyn often came in for “unexplained back pain” and would he come back to see the doctor along with Evelyn. It would sure help Dr. Lemos if he could speak to someone “clear-minded” on Evelyn’s behalf.

At this point in the story Lauren interjected a scripture, “help the weak, be patient with them all. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone.” Marcus was quick to reply, “I had plenty of practice today.”

Marcus continued his tale. After a bizarre conversation with Evelyn and the doctor in which Marcus served as both translator and referee, he had to stop by the pharmacy to pick up her prescription. But the computer had her date of birth wrong. The technician asked for her accurate date of birth. Evelyn didn’t want to tell anyone what year she was born. The technician said, “Ma’am we can’t give you your prescription without that information.” Finally Marcus persuaded Evelyn just to write down her date of birth on a slip of paper and pass it to the girl, but then she couldn’t find her glasses and when she finally did she couldn’t find a pen.

Lauren chimed in again, “help the weak, be patient with them all. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil...” Marcus took a deep breath and went on.

Finally they got home and he got Evelyn to her chair. But her back hurt and she needed to take her pills. However, the sticker on the bottle clearly said, “TAKE WITH FOOD.” So Marcus went to the kitchen to get something but Evelyn said there was nothing there she wanted to eat. She sent him to Whataburger to get a vanilla shake. A large vanilla shake. With those big red straws, not those puny little clear straws. Lauren was laughing now. Marcus couldn’t go on. “Then the sink was another two hour episode I’d rather not relive.”

One last time Lauren quoted 1 Thessalonians 5:14,“help the weak, be patient with them all...”

Marcus had finished his dinner and was idly playing with his phone when he remembered he had missed another call. He opened his cell phone and checked the list. He didn’t recognize the number. He called. A lady answered.

Marcus said, “Hi, this is Marcus Redding, I missed a call from this number.” The lady said, “Hi Marcus. It’s Stephanie. Your barber. I’ve got a job lead for you.”

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

Marcus Redding Passes Notes in Church

2010-02-26T08:16:00.003-06:00

Everyone filed back into the auditorium after Wednesday evening classes were over. The services always finished with one of the deacons reading a list of announcements before they had one last song and prayer. Marcus was half paying attention through most of it: a workday on Saturday at the church building to do some spring cleaning, one lady’s cousin was going in for a biopsy on a tumor, one of the teenagers was looking for some help with an Eagle Scout project, a truck from the children’s home would be stopping by this week to pick up winter clothes.

Marcus let his mind drift to the Winter Olympics until he felt Lauren squeeze his hand. He looked over at her. She pointed with her eyes to the front of the auditorium as if to say, “Pay attention.” The deacon was explaining that Evelyn Smith needed a ride to and from a doctor’s appointment on Friday. Marcus looked back at Lauren with a puzzled expression as if to say, “What about it?” Lauren leaned over and whispered, “What are you doing on Friday?” Marcus leaned over and whispered back, “I can’t. I’m looking for a job.”

Lauren grabbed a little pencil from in front of her and rifled through her Bible to find a stray sheet of paper. She scribbled something and passed it to Marcus. It was a scripture reference. One that he knew without looking it up: James 1:27.

The announcements continued. Marcus picked up his own little pencil and wrote his own scripture reference right under Lauren’s: 2 Thessalonians 3:10. She knew that one. So she smiled and wrote a few words under Marcus’s scripture reference, “but you are willing to work.” She underlined the word “you” one time and the word “willing” three times. Marcus sighed. He couldn’t argue with that.

After the last prayer Marcus spoke to the deacon who gave announcements and said he would give Evelyn a ride on Friday. He tried to appear happy, but it was hard.

Marcus went into the church office to get a directory to look up Evelyn’s number. He stepped outside to call her on his cell phone. When Evelyn answered she was coughing and Marcus had to speak loudly and repeat himself three times until she understood who he was and why he was calling. After a few minutes he figured out her appointment was at 11:30 a.m. at the Olympic Plaza. She didn’t know when she’d be done. Marcus was thinking, “Great, right in the middle of the day. This day is lost.”

Marcus got directions to her house. “Don’t be late,” she told him, “I’m never late.” Marcus just said, “Yes, ma’am.” Evelyn went on, “And do you do plumbing? I’ve got a leaky faucet and I don’t want to pay a guy to come out. The last time I called the plumber he was here for 15 minutes and he charged $700. Can you imagine that? Seven…hundred…dollars! I told him what I thought about that. I told him he could…”

Marcus interrupted, “Yes ma’am, I can fix your faucet. I’ll look at it after we get back from your appointment.”

Evelyn wasn’t done, “Now remember, be there at 10:00 so we can get there early. And make sure your car is clean.” She had more to say. All Marcus could say was, “Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.” By the end of their conversation Evelyn didn’t sound any happier than at the beginning. And Marcus wasn’t either.

When he finally got off the phone and stepped back inside, Marcus’s dad and Lauren a few others thanked him for volunteering. Lauren squeezed his hand and said, “I’m proud of you.”

Marcus knew he was doing the right thing, but he wondered what he was getting himself into.

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

Marcus Redding Waits

2010-02-17T15:26:00.002-06:00

“So are my prayers doing any good? I mean, it’s been four months now. The baby is due in June. Here it’s March already.” Marcus heard tires squeal outside and his eyes darted to the window. He sat for a minute looking at the traffic going by on the Loop. Finally he took a deep breath, “It’s not supposed to be this way. Lauren is a rock star at her job and I had a job in a warehouse. I lost that job, now I can’t find anything at all.”

Last Sunday evening Marcus had approached their preacher, John Humble, and said he wanted to sit down and talk with him. So here they were on Tuesday morning. Marcus sat on the couch, work boots laced up, hair cut short, hands in his jacket. John sat across from Marcus in a comfy chair. His Bible was perched on a corner of his desk, a yellow legal pad stuffed in the middle.

“So what do you pray for?” John got to the heart of the matter.

Marcus was terse, almost angry, “I’m praying that God will let me find work so that Lauren can stay home.”

John leaned forward, “That’s a good prayer. It’s in line with God’s will. We know that God will answer prayers according to his will.”

Marcus had heard that before, “Yeah, I know but…”

John interrupted, “Marcus. Listen. ‘this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.’ That’s 1 John 5:14. Do you believe that?” John looked intently at Marcus.

Marcus looked back at him, his eyes betraying his thoughts, “I do believe it…most of the time.” Marcus gave a half smile and said, “I believe, help my unbelief. That’s Mark 9:24. Do you believe that?”

John laughed, “You can quote scripture too!” The humor reduced the tension. John went on, “God will answer your prayer. But here’s the thing: it says “he hears us.” It doesn’t say when he will answer, it doesn’t say how he will answer. But he will. The main thing is what you do in the meantime.”

Marcus asked the obvious question, “What do I do in the meantime?”

John reached for his Bible and took out the legal pad. He tore out a page and handed it to Marcus. It was a list of seven scriptures. “I looked these up for you today. Read one each day this week. Then we’ll talk about them next week. Okay?”

Marcus nodded, “Okay.”

John went on, “Let’s read #6 right now. Here you go.” John handed Marcus his Bible, open to Lamentations 3:24-33. Marcus read it out loud. “What jumps out at you?” John asked.

Marcus knew the scripture. “It says it is good to wait and good to go through hard times.”

John sympathized, “Not what we usually think, huh? And look at verse 25, ‘the LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.’ Every time you pray you are seeking him. It’s what we do while we wait. These scriptures are not about getting answers. There is no formula for getting what we want, but there are principles that show us how to become what God wants us to be.”

Marcus sat back and looked out the window, “And what does God want me to be?”

John settled back in his chair and looked out the same window. He smiled and quietly said, “A waiter.”

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

Marcus Redding's Snow Day

2010-02-12T09:23:00.002-06:00

There was a knock at the door. A single knock. Lauren stirred from her sleep. Another single knock. She fumbled for her cell phone so she could see what time it was. Another knock. Squinting at the cell phone she saw it was 7:42 a.m. Another single knock. “Who in the world would be knocking on their apartment door this early on Saturday morning?” Another knock, but it wasn’t coming from the door. It was the window. But it was a second story window with nothing underneath it. What’s going on? She stumbled in her pajamas to the window in the living room and peeked out of the blinds. The windows were all fogged over. Another knock. Something hit the window! Someone was throwing things at their window!

“Marcus! Come here, I’m scared!” she half-yelled, half-whispered. Where was he? Something else hit the window. She pulled open the blinds and used her pajama sleeves to make a little clear circle. Thwap! Something else hit the window. It was white. It was a snowball.

Snow! Look at the snow! It lined every tree branch! It covered the ground! Must have been six or seven inches deep! Beautiful!

But who was that lunatic down there throwing snowballs at their window? Someone had built two snow people and made two snow angels. Above the two angels, written in the snow was “Marcus and Lauren.” Marcus was the lunatic who woke her up by throwing snowballs at their window. He was motioning for her to come down. She put on some shoes and went out on the porch and told Marcus it was beautiful and thanks for the snow angels but she didn’t want to get cold and wet. He yelled back up at her…yelled, at quarter to eight in the morning, in the middle of a big apartment complex…“Lauren, come on, this hardly ever happens! Come on!” And he just stood and looked at her like, “How can you not come out and play in the snow?”

The sight of him standing there with a crust of snow on his clothes, a ridiculous stocking cap too small for his head, and a big grin on his face was too much for her. She went back in and threw on three layers of clothes, gloves, and a hat. She took the lid off a big plastic storage bin so they could use it as a sled and she went back out on the porch. Marcus had his back turned, making alterations to his snowman, so she scooped up some snow from the edge of the porch and made a snowball. She threw it and it hit the target, right between his shoulder blades. He turned around and looked up. “All right! Come on!”

And they spent the next three hours making more snowmen and more snow angels and sledding down the slope next to their apartment building and then they got into a snowball fight with the neighborhood kids and Marcus chased Lauren and tackled her in the snow (very gently though, she was pregnant you know) and gave her a facewash and they laughed until their ribs hurt and she vowed revenge and then somebody found a sled and they tied it to the back of Marcus’s pickup and he had the kids take turns as he pulled them around the empty church parking lot next door and then the kids moved on to build a snow fort and Marcus and Lauren went for a walk and talked and held gloved hands as they looked at the snow.

They got back to their apartment and stomped the snow off their boots and went inside and peeled off the extra layers of sweaters and jackets. Lauren made hot cocoa. Marcus opened to Ecclesiastes and read a passage out loud…

“Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 9:9).

He walked over to her in the kitchen and hugged her from behind. “It’s not so vain when I’m with you.”

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

Marcus Redding Uses a Concordance

2010-02-05T09:05:00.001-06:00

Marcus was animated. “That’s what God intended men to do. God put Adam to work in the garden. It’s frustrating. I want to work. I’m a good worker. And I want for you to stay home with the kids. That’s the ideal. That’s God’s will. And God says if we ask according to his will then he will answer our prayer, eventually.”

Lauren was realistic. “I can do things from home you know. That Proverbs 31 woman was working all the time. It’s just that all her work revolved around her husband and children. It says, ‘She looks well to the ways of her household.’”

They had this conversation a lot, especially when driving home after services like they were this Sunday evening. “Okay, do me a favor,” Marcus said. “Go to biblegateway.com on your iPhone and do a keyword search for ‘work’ but limit it to Proverbs. Let’s see what it says.”

In about thirty seconds Lauren was tapping through a list of scriptures. She read the relevant results out loud as Marcus was driving…

“Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows worthless pursuits lacks sense.”

(Marcus: “Now I just need some land to work.”)

“From the fruit of his mouth a man is satisfied with good, and the work of a man’s hand comes back to him.”

(Lauren: “I bet someone you know will come through for you.”)

“Whoever is slack in his work is a brother to him who destroys.”

(Marcus: “I’m a good worker. I guess I’m a brother to him who builds.”)

“Do you see a man skillful in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men.”

(Marcus: “See! That’s you! The president of TJC came to your office to thank you for your good work!”)

“Prepare your work outside; get everything ready for yourself in the field, and after that build your house.”

(Lauren…hand on her abdomen…“the house is already being built.”)

She was quiet as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex. He parked and took the keys out of the ignition. Still quiet. He turned and looked at her and she was looking out the window. It was raining. The drops of rain made that sound as they spattered on the window. He looked back outside. They sat this way for a good five minutes. It started to get cold. Finally he turned back to her and held her left hand. He could feel the diamond on her wedding ring poking his fingers. “Lauren, we are seeking God’s kingdom and his righteousness and praying about this. He’ll add everything else.”

Lauren squeezed his hand but she kept looking out the window. “You’re wrong Marcus. He’s not going to add, he’s going to multiply.”

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

Marcus Redding Hears Another Sound

2010-01-29T08:05:00.001-06:00

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”

Lauren sent Marcus a text message: “Dr. Pulau 2:15.” Marcus called her back. “Okay, 2:15. Where do I turn off Beckham?” “It’s left off Beckham as you go south, right after the Golden Panda.” “Right, I remember now, see you there, I love you.” “I love you too Marcus.”

But that was later today. Marcus was at work at his new job: Full Time Job-Seeker. He had leads, but they led to dead ends. So he called Colby, his former boss, and asked if he knew anything. Colby sent him to Athens to talk to a guy at the Texas Freshwater Fisheries Center. They needed a guy to monitor conditions in the aquariums and take care of the grounds. If he did well there, he might go for a little training and he could work in the hatchery where they raise bass. It wasn’t ideal in the long term but it would do for now. He liked being outside and he fished the lakes in East Texas all his life. Maybe this would work until he got something long term.

He prayed as he headed back to Tyler on 31, casting his anxieties on the Lord. Anxieties about finding a job, Lauren’s anxieties about work, anxieties about a healthy baby. He finished with “I trust you Lord” and turned on his iPod. He scrolled through to a series on prayer he downloaded from a preacher in Duluth, Minnesota. He listened to a sermon on praying according to God’s will as he cruised back into Tyler, very careful to slow down through Brownsboro. They have a speed trap set up there don’t you know.

He met Lauren in the waiting room at 2:16. He sat down next to her and held her hand. She asked him how the interview went in Athens. He told her the hatchery produces 3 to 4 million Florida largemouth bass fingerlings every year and they need a babysitter. She laughed. Kind of a forced, nervous laugh. Marcus squeezed her hand. “Everything’s okay. I prayed on the way up here.” Lauren gave a half smile and looked down at her abdomen and squeezed his hand in return. What they weren’t talking about was Lauren’s mom who had three miscarriages before Eddie was born. And Lauren was thinking that girls take after their moms. And this was their first baby…

The door opened and the nurse called out, “Lauren Redding.” Marcus stood up and took her hand and they went on back. She was nervous. They took her blood pressure twice. They went over the fundamentals: folic acid, weight gain, emotional changes. Lauren was good about exercise. At lunch she walked around the TJC campus with three other girls. The nurse took them to a room. Lauren jumped up on the table. Marcus jumped up next to her. They waited. They talked about work. It was going well for her, as usual. Today the nursing department was in a teleconference and they lost their connection midway through. They called Lauren. She had it fixed in five minutes. Marcus shook his head in admiration, “Everything you touch turns to gold.”

Dr. Pulau knocked on the door. Pleasant chitchat. He asked questions. Lauren gave the right answers. Then he told her to ease on back and he got out the heart monitor. He warmed the ultrasound jelly in his hands and spread it on her belly. He pressed the wand against her side. He rolled it back and forth. They heard static. After a long thirty seconds, a heartbeat. The doctor looked at them and smiled. Tears.

Marcus squeezed Lauren’s hand. She whispered to him, “Psalm 139.”

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

Marcus Redding Hears a Sound

2010-01-22T09:46:00.000-06:00

Some people can’t stand the sound of fingernails on the chalkboard. Marcus Redding can’t stand the sound of a car coming to a screeching stop.

Last Wednesday night he heard that sound. They were coming home from evening Bible study. They had to turn left at the intersection to get into their apartment complex. They got in just under the yellow light. The oncoming traffic was stopped, but there was another car coming up behind them that was not paying attention and had to slam on the brakes. It stopped in time and didn’t hit anybody, but the squealing sound triggered a flashback.

Back on that sunny spring day when Marcus got his driver’s license, cruising down 346 and the setting sun hit him in the face, when he overcorrected and crossed over the yellow line, the other car had only a fraction of a second to put on the brakes, and that was the last sound Marcus heard before they crashed.

When they pulled up to their parking place, Marcus was almost frozen behind the steering wheel. Lauren knew what was going on. She reached over and rubbed his neck, “Come on Marcus, let’s go inside.” “I’m okay,” he lied, “I’m fine.” But he wasn’t fine. He couldn’t sleep. And whenever he did fall asleep he had nightmares. He dreamed Lauren had a wreck. She survived but they lost the baby. Marcus woke up, yelling her name. Startled awake, she saw him sitting up in bed, breathing hard.

Marcus felt helpless. Like his thoughts were controlling him instead of him controlling his thoughts. Lauren wanted him to go to the doctor to get something to help him sleep. She just wanted him to rest and be at peace. It was enough stress being out of work and not being able to find a job, and now this. But pills? Marcus had mixed a few pills with his Jack Daniels back in the dark years. Taking pills to dull his pain would be for him like having a drink. He couldn’t do it. He knew where that would take him.

About an hour later Lauren had drifted off to sleep again, but Marcus was still awake with his thoughts. He slipped out of bed and went out to the living room to turn on the TV. They had left it on PBS and they were doing an in-depth report from Haiti about men who had lost their wives in the earthquake and were left to take care of their children on their own. Poor, without work, traumatized. It put his situation in perspective, but he still hurt.

He got up to make a sandwich. On the way into the kitchen he noticed Lauren had left a Bible open to Psalm 139 on the kitchen table. She did that all the time. Leave him something to read in case he had trouble sleeping. She stuck a yellow post it note on the pages with an arrow that pointed to the title “Search Me, O God, and Know My Heart.” He read the psalm. Part of verse 18 jumped out at him, “I awake, and I am still with you.”

So he put those two together: the men in Haiti and God’s constant presence. He read Psalm 139 again, not reading it but making it his own prayer, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.” Then he read it again and prayed for the men in Haiti, “O Lord, you have searched them and known them!” He prayed their tragedy would cause them to turn to God, since they wouldn’t find that kind of lasting help anywhere else.

And then he realized he needed to do the same thing.

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

Marcus Redding's Last Day At Work

2010-01-15T10:51:00.000-06:00

His two weeks’ notice was up. Colby was gone but he wrote him a note thanking him for three years of good work and apologizing that there was no way he could keep him on.

Marcus tried one more time with Ron. He’d prayed for him, helped him reconcile with his mom, they went to the shooting range together, they were friends. After lunch Marcus took a deep breath and said, “Let me come over on Saturday and we’ll read the Bible together.” Ron said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do man, it’s just not for me.” Ken was close by and heard their little conversation. Ken resented anyone who talked “religion.” As soon as Ron was out of sight Ken came up to Marcus, “Why don’t you leave him alone? You’re always asking to pray for him and stuff. He’s not interested.”

5:30 couldn’t come soon enough. He packed his old stereo that he brought to the warehouse so the guys could listen to music while they worked. He shook everybody’s hand, even Ken’s, and said goodbye. And that was it.

On the way home he stopped by the barber. His hair was long in the back and he figured he ought to have it “neat and clean cut” to give him the maximum chance to find a job. He was a hard worker and he had a heart of gold, but that wasn’t the first thing employers saw. Five or six of them in the past couple weeks had looked at his hair and the tattoos up and down his arms and told him they didn’t have any openings. One night Marcus sat down with the church directory and called every guy that wasn’t retired to ask about jobs. Then he called every guy that was retired to ask about jobs. Nothing.

Just as he was getting up from the barber’s chair, getting his eyes adjusted to his new look in the mirror, his cell phone rang. It was their apartment manager. The cold weather had broken some pipes in their place and their kitchen and living room were flooded. Water was dripping down the walls of the apartment below. It would be a few days before the place would be livable. He hung up and sighed. The barber asked what was wrong.

“What was wrong?” Marcus thought. It was one of those times when two or three things go wrong and one more doesn’t make it any worse. He answered with a shrug of his shoulders, “I lost my job today. I have no leads for work. My buddy won’t read the Bible with me…” He took off his jacket and lifted up his arms. “I have these wicked tattoos that stop people from looking at my resume. And my apartment just flooded. Thank you for the haircut. It looks good.”

The barber laughed. “What’s your name?” He told her. She said, “What kind of work do you do?” He told her.
“I’ll keep my ears open. Give me your cell phone number.” He did.

As he drove into his apartment complex to pick up some clothes he noticed some empty beer cans by the side of the road. It was just trash, but it was enough of a trigger to get him thinking. He needed to cut off those thoughts really fast. He called Lauren. She was in Corpus Christi at a technology seminar all week. Horrible timing.

He told her about his day. She listened. When he was done she told him to wait. He could hear her flipping through the pages of her Bible. After a while she said, “Okay, here you go.” She read Psalm 46:1-3.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.”

“Marcus…the mountains haven’t fallen into the sea yet.” He chuckled. “Call me if they do, but until then pray and text me every hour until you go to bed, okay?”

“Okay, Lauren.”

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

Marcus Redding’s Solution For Worry

2010-01-07T04:09:00.000-06:00

Big changes were on the way.

Lauren worried. Not so much about being a mother. She worried more about Marcus. He didn’t handle change well. He had this reliable job ever since he sobered up. But now between losing the job and the thought of raising a child for the Lord…. She knew Marcus was so serious-minded and good-hearted that he would be stressed out. Stress, change, feeling out of control. That’s what led Marcus to drink. She knew that temptation would always be there. She worried about other things, but she worried about Marcus most of all.

Marcus worried too, but for different reasons. He had faith and he was pretty laid back. He knew he could find a job. Eventually. More than anything he did not want Lauren to worry. He knew she would worry about him finding a job or getting so stressed he would start drinking again. He didn’t want her to worry about working from home to help them make it. He wanted her security. He wanted to keep providing her the stability she never had when she was growing up. Other things bothered him, but he worried about Lauren’s mindset most of all.

But Marcus had come up with a deal. When Lauren worried they would go through a three part procedure: vent, pray, move on. So on Saturday morning when he got back from the shooting range he found Lauren working on her computer at the kitchen table. As soon as he walked in the door she closed the laptop and said, “I’m worried.” He said, “Okay. Vent.”

And she vented. “I so much want to stay home…It’s hard to find jobs…I’ll work from home if I have to…How are you going to find work…I don’t want you to have to work at my uncle’s chicken farm…My life is going to be devoted to our children…I love you so much…I love this baby so much…” The venting session was interrupted by bouts of hormonal pregnant weeping, which panicked Marcus at first. But between sobs and tears Lauren reassured him, “I’m crying because my hormones are out of whack.” Marcus was relieved but wondered if he could look forward to seven or eight months worth of emotional venting sessions.

After an intense 20 minutes, she was done. He hugged her and said they’d be okay, that he would do everything he could, and that he had confidence God would take care of them. Then he did for Lauren what she had done for him so many times. He opened her laptop, clicked on Firefox, opened biblegateway.com, typed in Philippians 4:6-7, and angled the screen so she could read it.

She read it and sighed. Not a resentful sigh but a determined sigh. “Okay,” she said. And Marcus sat down across from her and held her hands. And she started saying the same things all over again, worries and weeping and all. But this time it was a prayer. Pouring her heart out to God. When she was done she squeezed his hands and then Marcus prayed. He thanked God for Lauren and the baby, asked for wisdom, asked for open doors to a job. Then he was quiet for a long time. Lauren opened her eyes and looked at him, “Are you done?” Marcus kept his eyes closed and continued, “God, all we want to do is have a godly family for you. That’s all we want. Please give us what we need to do that. Please. We know you will. We trust you.”

He finished praying and looked up. “Okay?” he said. “Okay,” she said.

“I know one thing for sure, Lauren.” She looked at him funny, “What?”

“I can beat you at Wii Bowling.” She scoffed at him, “Okay, pal, let’s go.”

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

Marcus Redding Wonders What Is Next

2010-01-01T10:17:00.001-06:00

Marcus gave Lauren a big hug, but he didn’t squeeze her too hard. He told her she would be a wonderful mother. And Lauren told Marcus she had all the confidence in the world in Marcus as a father because he had a good history of fathers in his family—“unlike mine,” she added under her breath. Then they stepped back and looked at each other. “Well, now what?”

The idea had always been for Marcus to work a decent paying job so he could be the main provider (1 Timothy 5:8) and Lauren could stay home while they were raising a family. That was the plan anyway. And they considered it God’s will for their lives. Lauren was great at what she did, but her heart wasn’t in her career. She wanted to devote her time and energy to the one thing that really mattered (Proverbs 31, Titus 2:4). But now Marcus lost his job while she succeeded at hers. And they were expecting a baby in seven months or so.

“Well, now what?” They were both thinking it but Lauren said it. Marcus said what he always said when they seemed to run into a dead end, “Brainstorm, Get Advice, Pray.”

So they went in and sat down at the kitchen table. Marcus looked at Lauren’s right hand and saw she was still holding the little plastic stick with a plus sign on it. He looked at her. Very seriously. “Lauren, God will make a way for me to work and you to stay at home. We’ll do whatever we need to do.” Lauren was just as serious, “You’re right Marcus, you’re right, but let’s be realistic.” So they talked about realism for the next five hours. Marcus had two more weeks at Colby’s. Lauren was due in just over seven months. They could make it on Lauren’s salary in the meantime. So they were good in the short term. But the short term was not what concerned them.

At 9:00 Lauren realized they hadn’t eaten dinner so she warmed up a couple Michelina’s TV dinners and they kept talking: brainstorming job opportunities for him, brainstorming work she could do from home if he couldn’t find a job. They made a list of people Marcus could talk to: Ron’s cousin worked for Panola Steel, Lauren’s brother Eddie worked for the post office, Lauren’s mom worked for Cracker Barrel. But nothing was certain and Marcus didn’t have any education beyond high school. Besides that, no one had ever told Marcus, “If you lose you job just come talk to me and we’ll take care of you.”

At 11:37 they were talked out. Marcus pushed back his chair, got up, walked over to the couch, picked up his Bible off the arm of the couch, came back, sat down, and opened it to James 1. He set the Bible in front of Lauren and pointed to the tiny number 2. “Here’s what we’ll do.” She read out loud through verse 6.

When she finished he said, “That’s what we’ll do. We’ll pray. Starting now.”

So they bowed their heads at the kitchen table (which was a card table) in their little apartment and they took turns praying. Marcus prayed for Lauren and the baby, for wisdom in finding a job, for a sense of peace. He finished by telling God that he trusted him. “You’ve taken care of me in the past. I know you will in the future.” Lauren prayed for herself and the baby, for Marcus to find a job, for wisdom to know what she should do about her own work. She finished by telling God that she trusted him. “I trust you, Lord. Short time or long, I know you will answer our prayer.”

They said amen and the apartment was quiet. There is a time for everything. And it was time for the three of them to go to bed.

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

Marcus Redding's Gift of the Magi

2009-12-18T08:49:00.001-06:00

“Again I saw that under the sun the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to those with knowledge, but time and chance happen to them all.” Ecclesiastes 9:1

Marcus was in the warehouse today, unloading a truck full of candy bars and Grandma’s cookies. So at first he didn’t hear the call over the intercom for him to come to the front office. Ron heard it and caught Marcus the next time he drove by. “They’re calling you to the office.” Marcus gulped. He had only been called into the front office during the work day two times since he started at Colby’s Wholesale. Once to do some paperwork after a teenage driver got in a fender bender with him while he was making deliveries. The other time was when a Valero store manager called to compliment Marcus on his work. But he couldn’t think of any reason why he was being called in now. Unless the smaller orders and fewer deliveries had something to do with it. He was the low man on the totem pole. He jumped off the forklift. Ron jumped on so he could finish the unloading. He turned to watch his buddy walk to the office. Ron sighed and started the forklift.

“Do you see a man skillful in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men.” Proverbs 22:29

That same morning Dr. Lemke came into Lauren’s office. She had never spoken to the president during her workday, much less had the president come to her office to speak to her. But the conference that weekend had gone so well and it had so enhanced TJC’s reputation in the community, that he wanted to thank her in person. Lauren planned and organized the East Texas Technology Summit. It was a showcase of TJC’s technology applications in the fields of health care, education, and small-business development. Hospital administrators, superintendents, and local business leaders attended. Everyone was thoroughly impressed that TJC students received a high level of technology training but they were even more impressed by the organization of the conference and the keynote address Lauren presented Saturday morning. She was flattered and honored by the president’s visit, but as big a deal as that was, something more important was on her mind. As soon as the president left her office she got out her cell phone and opened the calendar. She kept counting the last few days of the month. Over and over again. She stopped by CVS on the way home.

She beat Marcus home by at least a half hour. She didn’t even change her clothes. She just waited for him at the kitchen table. When she heard him coming up the steps she met him at the door. “I’ve got some news,” she said, excited, but composed. “I’ve got some news too,” he said, disappointed but calm.

They were both taken aback, not expecting the other to have news. She could see his news wasn’t good, but that made her all the more anxious to tell him her news. He could see that her news was good, and that made him all the more anxious to hear it. Marcus smiled a puzzled smile, “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to count to three. When I say ‘three’ you tell me your news in just a few words and at the same time I’ll tell you my news in just a few words. Okay?” She looked at him for a long while. Somehow she knew what he was going to say. And somehow she knew that he knew what she was going to say. Two years flashed through her mind in two milliseconds. She took two steps forward and kissed his cheek. She stepped back. Quietly she said, “Okay.” Marcus said, “Onetwothree.”

He said, “I lost my job”
She said, “We’re having a baby”

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

Marcus Redding Hears A Poem

2009-12-11T09:37:00.000-06:00

It was Thursday, the day that Marcus made deliveries. He liked working in the warehouse the rest of the week but he liked having one day where he could get out and drive around. He drove route 5 today, the route that goes west on 31: Chandler, Brownsboro, Murchison, Athens. He delivered candy bars and beef jerky and Grandma’s cookies. He had 17 stops to make. Thirteen gas stations. Four businesses. He liked getting outside, even though it was cold. He liked seeing the same people every week, finding out how they were doing. But most of all he liked having time to listen to his iPod as he drove.

He liked listening to the Bible and the spiritual songs, but he really enjoyed listening to the sermon podcasts that Eddie had loaded on his iPod when he first gave it to him a couple years ago. Every week he heard seven or eight sermons besides the two he heard on Sunday. He listened to a preacher from Sensenbrenner, Georgia, one from Lubbock, Texas, and another from Bakersfield, California. Good preaching from scripture. Applicable. Interesting. Persuasive. He learned a lot. And it motivated him to serve God more wholeheartedly during the day, show more love to Lauren, and set a Christlike example to his co-workers.

On the way out of Athens he listened to a sermon on the challenges of aging. He never heard a sermon like that before. But the preacher pointed out there is a lot in God’s word about getting older, old age is a blessing, and older people play a vital role in the work of the church. He paused the sermon while he made a stop at the Kidd Jones in Brownsboro. But after that delivery he climbed back up into the truck and pulled onto 31 heading back to Tyler. He put the headphones back in and listened to the end of the sermon. The preacher was telling about another, older preacher who often told portions of a certain poem to illustrate the value of older people in the church. So this preacher decided to close his sermon by telling the whole poem. This is how it went…

An old man going a lone highway…came at even cold and gray
To a chasm vast and wide and steep…with waters rolling cold and deep
The old man crossed in the twilight dim…for that sullen stream held no fear for him
But he turned when safe on the other side…and built a bridge to span that tide
“Old man” said a fellow pilgrim near…“You’re wasting your strength building here”
“Your journey will end with the ending day…and you never again will pass this way
“You’ve crossed the chasm deep and wide...why build a bridge at eventide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head…“Good friend, in the path I’ve come,” he said
“There follows after me a youth whose feet must pass this way
“This chasm that has been naught to me…to that fair-haired youth a pitfall may be
“He too must cross in the twilight dim…good friend, I’m building this bridge for him.”

It made Marcus think of 1 Peter 5:5, “Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’”

He liked the poem so much that as soon as he got back to the office he listened to it again and copied it down, all the time thinking of his Grandpa Sam and the older folks at church.

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

Marcus Redding Drives to Arlington

2009-12-04T10:16:00.001-06:00

“Two funerals in a month. Are there cultures that only celebrate births and weddings and have no rituals for death? I want to move there.” Lauren was ready on cue, “You know what Ecclesiastes says Marcus, ‘It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.’” “I know,” he replied, “but two funerals in a month is hard.” First Grandpa Sam, now his friend Ron’s mother had died. Lauren was sympathetic, “Yeah, it is hard. But I’ll be with you. And you know Ron will appreciate it. And this could help open a door for the gospel.” Marcus was resigned, “I know. But it’s still hard.”

Ten days ago Marcus drove Ron to Arlington so that Ron could reconcile with his dying mother. She was awake and alert when they got to Hospice Arlington. But a brain tumor affected her speech. She couldn’t talk. But her facial expressions showed that she recognized people and she was listening and understanding what they said. When Ron walked into his mom’s room he went straight to her bed. He held her hand. He told her he was sorry and all the reasons why. She just cried and smiled and squeezed his hand. They had reconciled. His mom passed away early the next morning.

Now Marcus and Lauren were making the Saturday drive from Tyler to Arlington for the 11:00 services. Marcus was behind the wheel. Lauren was looking out the window. “Have you ever been to that place, ‘World of Christmas Lights?’” “Yeah, I went there one time…in high school.” Marcus sounded ashamed. Lauren guessed why, “How old were you?” “I was 17. Let’s just say we caused malicious mischief and got in trouble.” Lauren chuckled and shook her head.

They pulled off in Terrell so Marcus could get some coffee. Marcus stayed in the truck while Lauren ran into Starbucks. Since Lauren quoted Ecclesiastes, he reached behind his seat and pulled out his Bible. When Lauren got back in the truck she put two hot paper cups in the beverage holder. As they pulled back on to I-20 Marcus said, “Will you read Ecclesiastes while we drive?” “Sure,” she said, “Why Ecclesiastes?” Marcus sipped coffee and said, “Seems like the right book to read on the way to a funeral.” Lauren set the Bible on her lap, “Okay, but I’ll have to take breaks so I don’t get carsick.”

She started reading, “The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever.” She read a few minutes then looked up to avoid carsickness and they would talk about what they read. This went on until they crested that big hill on I-20. Lauren read the last verses, “The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.”

It was quiet as they descended the big hill, traffic all around, bright cold winter day. After a few minutes Marcus broke the silence, “That’s what I like about the Bible. It’s real.”

It was quiet again. They passed a truck stop. They passed Mexican restaurants and green Wal-Marts. They passed gleaming mega-churches and Valero gas stations. They passed tall cranes and new construction. They turned onto 360 North and passed Whataburger and Six Flags and Cowboys Stadium. All these things came into view and passed away in the distance.

But the Bible sitting on the dashboard stayed the same.

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

Marcus Redding's Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T07:13:00.001-06:00

The sun was just coming up when Marcus pulled his truck into his dad’s driveway. This would be the only stop he would make this Thanksgiving morning. In past years he would stop at Grandpa Sam’s and pick him up too. But not this year. Deep sigh.

His dad jumped in the pickup and they drove to Mrs. Hampel’s place out in Mixon just off FM 177. They did something like this every year. It was Grandpa Sam’s idea. The men of the church would find someone who needed work done around their place and make that their Thanksgiving Day service project. Mrs. Hampel’s old house needed painting and she had an barn that was in bad shape. The guys had spent a few Saturdays getting all the materials together. Now they drove out to Mixon and met six other guys from the church. All the ladders and cans of paint and brushes and lumber and nail guns were ready. They worked six straight hours and got the place fixed up the best they could. Mrs. Hampel thanked them profusely. They reminded her of Acts 2:44. They were just taking care of a sister who had a need. That’s what Christians do.

They got home a little after 12:30 and got cleaned up. Lauren and her mom and Marcus’s mom had spent all morning getting Thanksgiving dinner ready and visiting in the kitchen. The smell of turkey and pumpkin pie and dressing greeted the rest of the aunts and uncles and cousins as they came in around 1:00.

Most of them were Christians and so “they received their food with glad and generous hearts.” They watched the first half of the football game after dinner. At halftime they got out Monopoly. Four sets of Monopoly. They had four games going at the same time. Card tables full of Boardwalk and Community Chest and Get Out of Jail Free Cards and plastic green houses and tiny silver thimbles. A Redding Thanksgiving tradition. Just fun. When the third quarter started, they postponed their Monopoly games and everyone had dessert. Then the guys watched the rest of the game and the ladies cleaned up.

When the football game was over they finished Monopoly. The winner of each game got a prize: the privilege of being the first to give thanks. Since there was one winner from each of the monopoly games, the four winners took turns in order of their age—the oldest first on down to the youngest—then the rest took turns, all of them saying what they were thankful for. Here is what some of them had to say…

Lauren’s brother, Eddie…“I thank God that I still have a job.”

Marcus’s mom, Abigail…“I thank God for Ruth and Lauren. They have been a great blessing to our family.”

Marcus’s dad, David…“I thank God for the years we had with Sam. We miss him. But I know we’ll be with him again soon.”

Lauren’s mom, Ruth…“I thank God for blessing my daughter with a godly husband. I love you, Marcus.”

Lauren…“I thank God for David and Marcus. They love Abigail and me like Christ loved the church.”

Marcus…“I thank God for loving me and saving me through his son Jesus Christ.”

Hugs all around.

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

Marcus Redding Has An Idea

2009-11-20T09:19:00.000-06:00

Marcus had been at work with Ron all morning and Ron hadn’t said anything. They usually talked about the Cowboys game or Ron’s projects he was working on at home. But this morning Ron was quiet.

So when Marcus got the next set of orders from the office he went up to Ron. “Do you want route 3 or route 5?” Ron looked stoic and said, “Doesn’t matter.” Marcus tucked the orders in a clipboard and set them on the back of his forklift. “What’s wrong?” Ron looked up, taken aback at the direct question. He hesitated, then finally said, “They’re going to put my mom in hospice.”

“Oh, Ron, man…I’m sorry.” Marcus knew about the tension between Ron and his family. His mom and his sister lived in Arlington. Ron’s dad had died when he was in high school. From age 16 to 21 Ron and Marcus lived the same life. Both suffered a tragedy in high school, both hit the bottle, now both of them were trying to get back on track. Faith was the difference between them. Marcus was back on track. Sober. Reconciled with his family. Married to a wonderful wife. Reading the Bible. Praying. Regular at worship services. Making friends with people in his church family.

Ron did not have faith. He resented Christians because of how folks from his parents' church didn’t help his mom when his dad died (or so he thought.) He did not attend any church services. He didn’t pray. He wasn’t interested in the Bible. He had a girlfriend, but nothing deep. He had reconciled some with his sister, but not with his mom, who resented him for abandoning the family after his dad died. But he had been dry for a while. He carried a one-year chip on his key ring. And he had a good heart. Just a lot of baggage. A lot of guilt. A lot of unacknowledged, unconfessed, un-repented-of sin.

“I’m sorry too,” Ron finally said. They were close enough that Marcus thought he could be bold. “Go talk to her.” Ron shook his head, “What would I say? It wouldn’t change anything.” Marcus challenged him, “How do you know? Remember my accident? Years later I went to Bruce’s parents and talked to them. Said I was sorry. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But they forgave me. And hugged me and we cried and all that. You’ve got to try.” Ron wasn’t on board, “Yeah, well, my mom is not like Bruce’s mom. She’d cuss me right out of hospice.” Marcus didn’t back down, “You’ve got two choices. You can either try to reconcile with her or you can live the rest of your life with guilt and wonder what if.”

Just then a truck backed up to the loading dock and set its air brakes. The sound interrupted their conversation. Ron found the out he was looking for, “I’ve got to unload this truck.” And he walked off. Marcus watched him open the back door of the truck. Then an idea hit him.

He jumped on the forklift and drove it around the corner. He got out his cell phone and called Lauren. He asked her if they had anything going on tonight. They didn’t. He told her about Ron’s mom and his idea. She told him to go for it, just call her on her cell phone.

Marcus didn’t say anything to Ron the rest of the day. At 5:25 Marcus clocked out and ran to the parking lot and got in his truck. He pulled it up to the warehouse, popped open the passenger side door, and waited. When Ron opened the door to leave Marcus hollered and motioned at him, “Jump in! Let’s go see your mom!”

Ron was stunned. “What are you talking about?” Marcus revved the engine. “I’ll drive you to Arlington! Come on! Jump in!” Ron stood in the doorway. His shoulders fell. Closed his eyes. Then looked back up. “What are you doing Marcus?” Marcus hollered again, “We’ll stop by Sonic on the way out.” He pounded on the passenger seat. “Come on!”

Ron heard a voice from behind him, “Get in the truck.” Ron turned around and saw six of the other guys that worked in the warehouse. They stood side by side. All looking straight at him. These were guys with scars. Guys with tattoos. Guys with rough beards. Guys with round circles in their back pockets courtesy of Copenhagen. Guys who were divorced two or three times. Guys who fight among themselves. Guys who might not have always done the right thing, but they knew the right thing when they saw it.

One by one they said, “Get in the truck.” “Get in the truck.” “Get in the truck.” “Get in the truck.” “Get in the truck.”

Ron looked back at Marcus. Marcus revved the engine. Ron didn’t walk. He ran to the truck and jumped in.

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

Marcus Redding Has Insomnia

2009-11-13T09:15:00.001-06:00

What good was it doing to lie here looking up at the ceiling? The bed creaked as he got up. Lauren stirred. He went out to the couch and turned on the TV. But what was on at two in the morning? He clicked on PBS and saw they had a Sesame Street 40th anniversary show. His mind went back to Grandpa Sam. When he was a little kid, even before he went to school, sometimes he would stay the night with Grandpa Sam. In the morning he would let him watch one show, usually Sesame Street.

Marcus left the TV on and walked over to the kitchen table where Lauren left her laptop. He opened it up and clicked on the folder named “Pictures.” Then he clicked on another folder named “Marcus Family.” About three hundred picture files came up. Lauren had spent months scanning pictures from the albums Marcus’s mom had made. She tagged the pictures according to year and event and who was in them. So all Marcus had to do was type “Grandpa Sam” in the search field and there were all his memories.

He scrolled through the slide show. Marcus as a skinny school-age kid: fishing with Grandpa Sam, Christmas at Grandpa Sam’s place, on Grandpa Sam’s lap reading the Bible, arm wrestling, playing in the snow, a trip to Yellowstone. All of a sudden Marcus was not a skinny kid anymore, the next pictures were from their wedding, Grandpa Sam dressed in a tuxedo. But where were all the pictures from about age 16 until he turned 21? There were no pictures for about five years.

It didn’t matter. Marcus had plenty of memories from that time of his life. That’s why he couldn’t sleep. Ever since Grandpa Sam passed away those memories haunted him even more, so that every night when he fell asleep—if he could fall asleep—he had nightmares. The other night he dreamed about a former girlfriend. He stopped by her apartment to see her. He found her there with another guy. Marcus went back to his truck and got a baseball bat. He stormed the apartment and started swinging away while the girlfriend screamed for him to stop. Then he woke up. The worst part about this nightmare was that it really happened. So that made the insomnia worse. Even if he did fall asleep he could only expect these horrible reminders of the dark years.

Looking at these pictures helped him diagnose the cause of his insomnia: regret. And regret caused pain. And he wanted this pain to go away. He went to the fridge. There used to be beer in his fridge. Not anymore. But it would be pretty easy to get in his truck and drive about 20 minutes and he could medicate his insomnia/regret/pain with alcohol. It crossed his mind. He knew from experience this medicine worked temporarily, but the side effects were awful.

So he stood in front of the open fridge, suddenly caught in a battle between the Spirit and the flesh. Then he heard Lauren open the bedroom door. He watched her walk down the hall. She didn’t say anything. He stood there while she closed the door of the fridge, then put on a pot of coffee, then walked over to the table and noticed the pictures on the screen. She looked up at Marcus. He was still standing there facing the now closed fridge. She looked back down and clicked and typed a little then went to the living room. She turned off the TV and turned on their old CD player. She slipped in a CD of spiritual songs and turned the volume to “7.” The lyrics of “Wonderful, Merciful Savior” quietly filled the little apartment. She went to the couch and lay down. The smell of coffee and the sound of the song brought Marcus to his senses. And the battle was over for now. He heard Lauren mumble from the couch, “Look at the computer.” He angled the screen so he could see it. She had called up Ephesians 5:18-20 “And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart, giving thanks always and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The coffee was ready. He poured a cup and walked over to the couch. According to the clock on the front of the CD player it was 2:37 a.m. She sat up. He sat down on one side. She laid her head back down on his lap. He sipped coffee and listened to the music while she fell back asleep.

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

Marcus Redding at the Cemetery

2009-10-31T09:24:00.001-05:00

“Things are going to happen right here.” The preacher had gestured with a sweep of his hand, looking over the rows of grave markers that surrounded them. Then he read from the fourth chapter of 1 Thessalonians.

He remembered Grandpa Sam’s graveside service which took place exactly one week ago. Now here was Marcus again the next Saturday morning, looking down at the grave marker. Grandpa Sam had chosen an unusual inscription: “Samuel Arthur Redding. 1929-2009. With Christ in life. With Christ in death. Looking Forward to Resurrection.”

Marcus took in a deep breath of the cool East Texas air and looked up. Why was he here? He felt the vague notion that he had to say goodbye, again, finally get some closure. He loved his grandfather. He died so suddenly. The funeral happened so quickly he hardly had time to think about how his number one fan and the man he admired so much was gone. Grandpa Sam had always been there. He never changed. Now all Marcus could think about was how he wanted things to stay the same. He did better when things did not change. Loss and change brought worry and stress. Not handling change, that’s what caused him to fall away.

His cell phone rang. Two short tones. A text message. It was from Lauren. It read, “Haven’t we been here before?” Lauren was reminding him of a few months ago when Marcus went to Bruce’s grave on the fifth anniversary of the accident. He texted back, “Need to say goodbye, one more time.” Marcus knew what was coming next because Lauren had said it before. She told him gently but firmly. Two short tones. Loud in the quiet cemetery. He opened the message, “Don’t look back. Look forward. 1 Thess 4:13-18.”

She was right. Nine times out of ten Lauren was right. Where would he be without her? Marcus looked back down at the grave marker, “Looking Forward to Resurrection.” He smiled and took a deep breath and turned away. “Looking forward,” he thought. He got up in his truck and leaned over to pick up his Bible off the floorboard of the passenger side. He looked up 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. He knew the main idea. But he wanted to read it word for word. Lauren was right. This was the closure he needed.

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

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

Marcus Redding Goes to a Funeral

2009-10-23T09:17:00.000-05:00

Marcus sat in a classroom just down from the auditorium of Fairhaven Church of Christ. It was hot in there. All the members of his extended family were standing around waiting for the funeral to start. The air conditioning was trying unsuccessfully to cool them off. He’d have to call Ray’s Air Conditioning and Heating tomorrow.

Marcus was thinking about how long it had been since he had seen a lot of his extended family. They all knew he had fallen away but a lot of them didn’t know he had turned back to God. He noticed how they looked at the tattoos that crawled up his neck and the jagged scars on his hands.

One of the funeral directors poked his head in, “It’s time.” The family began the somber march through the foyer and down to the front of the auditorium. Marcus could hear his grandfather in his mind. He knew just what Grandpa Sam would say if he could talk to everyone.

He would tell them about Jesus’ funeral. Whenever Sam heard about how popular someone was or how many people he baptized or how many came to his funeral, Grandpa Sam would remind them Jesus only had two people at his funeral.

There could have been a thousand people at this funeral. Easily. Grandpa Sam was an elder of the church. He ran a successful insurance business. Member of the Rotary Club. Had a bunch of fishing buddies. Lived in Tyler all his life. Good reputation. Loved by everyone. But he had some clear instructions about his own services. He knew it was a time for remembering and grieving and saying goodbye but he wanted more attention paid to God than himself.

So he made arrangements. One scripture: 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. Two prayers. One at the beginning and one at the end. Three songs. “Wonderful, Merciful Savior,” “When I Survey The Wondrous Cross,” “Amazing Grace.” The message would be a series of short eulogies written by his two children and his four grandchildren. The eulogies would be read by the minister. Sam had given Marcus and his dad instructions that each of the eulogies focus not on what Sam Redding had done for them, but what God had done for them through—or in spite of—Sam Redding.

Marcus was the youngest grandchild. His eulogy would come last. He thought it would take him a long time to write his thoughts, but once he sat down at Lauren’s laptop it only took him a few minutes. Here is the text of the eulogy he handed to the minister on the morning of the funeral:

“The God before whom my fathers David and Sam walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day, the angel who has redeemed me from all evil…praise his name. God worked through Grandpa Sam to teach me his ways. I followed them when I was young. I fell away for a few years. Now God has redeemed me from all evil. My grandfather loved me unconditionally. He prayed for me in my dark days. He welcomed me back with open arms. He performed the ceremony when Lauren and I got married. He taught me about God. He set me a good example. He loved his neighbor as himself. I thank God for Sam Redding. I miss him. But I’m comforted to know that he is in the presence of the Lord. I will keep my faith in God through his son Jesus Christ so that I can be in the presence of the Lord with Grandpa Sam someday.”

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

Marcus Redding's Grandfather

2009-10-16T11:54:00.000-05:00

It was the middle of Friday morning and Marcus was on the forklift unloading a truck when his cell phone rang. He stepped on the brake as he dug the phone out of his pocket. The screen said “Dad’s cell.” He never called Marcus at work. Marcus flipped the phone open and said, hesitantly, “Hi dad.”

“Marcus, we’re okay, but your grandfather…” Marcus knew something was wrong because his dad said “grandfather” instead of “Grandpa Sam.” They always called him Grandpa Sam. He could hear voices in the background. Commotion. His mom was pleading, “David, tell him, just tell him.” Marcus’s voice darkened, “Dad, what’s going on?” His dad answered but it sounded like he was not really there, “We’re in the ER at Mother Frances…” The cell phone started cutting out. All Marcus heard was “internal bleeding…fading…not time.” “I’m on my way.” He didn’t even turn off the forklift or say anything to his co-workers, he just ran out the side door, ran to his truck, and ran a few red lights on his way to the hospital.

Thoughts raced through his mind as he zoomed up 110 toward the hospital. Images. The first image was his grandfather in a suit at the front of the church building, holding a Bible, smiling at Lauren as she walked down the aisle to meet Marcus on their wedding day. His grandfather performed the ceremony. The next image was one he had never seen, just one he imagined for three or four years. It was Grandpa Sam looking at pictures of Marcus when Marcus was little and he would take him fishing. Grandpa Sam would look at those pictures then look out the window and there would be tears in his eyes because he grieved over Marcus, how he had fallen away from the Lord after the wreck. Marcus winced. Waves of regret flooded his heart. The next image that came to his mind was crazy: Grandpa Sam armwrestling Lauren’s brother Eddie. And Grandpa Sam always won! Why was he remembering that now? He laughed even though he was in a state of panic.

He turned right into the free parking lot across from the hospital. He couldn’t find an open space so he just ran his truck over the curb up onto the lawn, not caring if it got towed. He almost got hit by an ambulance as he ran across the road. He sprinted to the ER. “Sam Redding! Sam Redding!” A girl took him back and pointed. Marcus slowed down and walked up to the curtain. He pulled it back. Everything was quiet. There was his dad and mom. And Lauren. They hardly looked up at him. Grandpa Sam was on the bed. His eyes were closed. A nurse was turning down the volume on a monitor that was making one long steady tone.

Marcus went over to the bed. He stood by his grandfather. Then he dragged over a chair and sat down, still looking at Grandpa Sam. Lauren came over behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. Her could smell her hair as it brushed his face. His dad and mom came over and Marcus stood up. They hugged each other in a quiet four person huddle. No one was crying. After a long while Marcus’s dad stepped back and spoke. His words came slowly but his voice was surprisingly calm. “He was alert to the end. He blessed us. Each of us. He tried to move his arms, but he couldn’t. He looked at me and blessed me, then he did the same for your mom, and for Lauren…” Now David choked up. He looked at Lauren as if to say, “You tell him.”

Marcus turned to his wife. She took a deep breath and took his hands in hers. She looked up at Marcus and smiled. She had never looked so beautiful to him. “His last words Marcus...His last words...He said, ‘Tell Marcus I am proud of him. Tell him to always pray. Tell him, 3 John 4.’ Those were his last words.”

Marcus sat down in the chair and cried and cried. Lauren held his hand. His mom put her arm around him. His dad put his arms around them all and smiled the sad but joyful smile that only Christians know.

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

Marcus Redding's iPod

2009-10-13T10:37:00.002-05:00

It was Eddie’s idea. Lauren’s brother Eddie. When Lauren was helping Marcus turn back to God. Eddie wanted to help his future brother-in-law. So he bought him an iPod.

From the day after the accident until the day he met Lauren, Marcus was filled with self-hatred. He was responsible for the death of his best friend and he himself had survived. Guilt overwhelmed him. And he acted in ways that reflected how he felt about himself. He got on motorcycles and drove really fast. He bought beer and drank a lot of it. He said hello to a girl one night and said goodbye to her the next morning. He listened to music with lyrics that would have made his mom faint. He hurt others. He hurt himself. All because he was hurt, with an incurable guilty wound, infected by sin.

When Lauren was first getting to know Marcus she would call Eddie for advice. She liked Marcus but she refused to date him until he had repented and been sober for at least six months. (She told Marcus as much. It motivated him to change.) But in the meantime, how could she help him? Eddie had an idea. He read the first verses of Colossians to his sister, “’If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.’ He’s set his minds on earthly things for so long, he needs to push that stuff out and replace it with the things above. I’m going to buy him an iPod. I’ll fill it with spiritual songs and scripture and good sermons. Tell him to throw away all his other music and just listen to this for the next six months.”

So for the next week Eddie spent his nights scouring iTunes for the most spiritual songs. He visited hundreds of church websites to find Eddie the best sermons. He downloaded a Bible. He got out his label maker, typed in “Colossians 3:1-2,” printed it out, and stuck it on the back of the iPod. He gave it to Lauren after the Sunday evening worship service.

On Monday morning, Lauren met Marcus next to Wagstaff Gym. She gave him the iPod and explained Eddie’s idea. Marcus raised his eyebrows, “Throw away all my other music?” Lauren looked him straight in the eye, “All of it.” Marcus could see she was serious. He sighed, “I’ll do it for you.” Lauren held his gaze, “Do it for God.”

Marcus was good on his word. The garbage sack was heavy with his old CDs when he chunked it in the dumpster “with the rest of the garbage,” he thought. And for the next six months—partly for Lauren, partly for God—he listened to Eddie’s iPod: on the way to work, on his lunch break, making deliveries, hanging out at his apartment. Every time he had a free minute or two. It set his mind on things above.

He got a lot from the sermons. He liked listening to James, and the Psalms, and Habakkuk. But he always came back to one song, “Draw Me Close.”

Draw me close to you, Never let me go
I lay it all down again, To hear you say that I'm your friend
You are my desire, No one else will do
Nothing else can take your place, To feel the warmth of your embrace
Help me find the way, Bring me back to you

You're all I want, You're all I've ever needed
You're all I want, Help me know you are near

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

Marcus Redding Has a Normal Day

2009-10-05T10:49:00.003-05:00

“Good night, mom. I’m glad you are feeling better.” It had been a week since Marcus came home and found her so upset about her mom. But Ruth was doing better, she had a good week at work, and Lauren took her to lunch over the weekend. Marcus asked how she was doing. Lauren shook her head and shrugged, “She just had a hard week. She’ll be all right. Like the Psalm says, ‘Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.’” Marcus yawned, “Speaking of the morning, it’s time for bed. What do you have on for tomorrow?” “Normal day,” she said, “normal as it can be when computers and people get together. What about you?” “Normal day...normal as it can be at Colby’s Wholesale.”

Marcus got up at 6:00. He made coffee and sat down at the kitchen/card table and opened Lauren’s laptop. He read a chapter from Romans on biblegateway.com. Then he checked espn.com and watched the highlights of yesterday’s baseball games. After another cup of coffee it was time to go to work. He climbed into his 2001 Dodge Ram to make the fifteen minute commute. He got there at 6:45 to open the warehouse, get the orders, and make coffee for the guys. One or two days out of the week he got to deliver, but not today. Tuesdays he was always in the warehouse. He worked till noon filling orders and loading trucks, took a lunch break from noon to 12:30, then he worked till 5:00 and left the evening shift to finish the work for the day. He usually passed Brookshires on the way home so Lauren had texted him a grocery list. He stopped and picked up toilet paper and bananas and orange juice. He got home at quarter to six and fixed a little dinner so it would be ready when Lauren got home. The orange juice made him think of breakfast so he cooked breakfast for dinner: ham, eggs, toast, orange juice.

Lauren’s workday was a couple hours different than his. This worried her when they first got married. She was concerned about her recovering alcoholic husband being home alone after work every day. It would be so easy for him to want to relax after work with a beer. But they talked about it and he was all right. Lauren was only 23 years old but she was over the Information Technology department at Tyler Junior College. She didn’t just work with computers, she was in charge of all the technology on the whole campus. She got to work around 9:00 and assigned the technicians to work on whatever projects needed attention. She taught a couple technology classes herself. And since there was always new software and software cost money there were always meetings with administration. She had a big job. And it was stressful. But Lauren was really good at what she did. The Christians who worked with her called her “Josephine” after Joseph in the Old Testament who succeeded at everything he did. She got home at 6:00 or 7:00 on weeknights.

Tonight Marcus had dinner (breakfast) ready, which was nice. Between bites of ham and eggs they talked about their days. Marcus had a regular day at work, no drama. Lauren had a regular day at work, plenty of drama. But it was a normal day. Too many days in a row like that made Marcus feel antsy, anxious to do something exciting, and he told Lauren as much. She swirled the last bit of orange juice in her glass, “Most of life is routine. We go to work, come home, go to church, you know. That’s how Jesus spent over half his life. Working as a carpenter, coming home, going to synagogue.” Marcus leaned back in his chair, “So if we can handle the routine of daily life then we can handle the big things that come up. Jesus said something about that, didn’t he?” Marcus was setting Lauren up to quote Jesus’ words, most of which she had committed to memory since she was a teenager…

Lauren picked up the dishes and glasses to take to the kitchen, then she came back to the table and kissed him on the forehead, “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much. Thanks for making dinner.”

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

Marcus Redding’s Mother-In-Law

2009-09-24T15:34:00.000-05:00

“Lauren…are you home?” Marcus noticed her car in the parking lot but she wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room. He walked down the hall, “Lauren?” He peeked into the bedroom and saw her curled up on the bed, still with her work clothes on, her long blond hair all messed up. She was crying. Half-worried, half-puzzled Marcus sat on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder. “Lauren, what’s wrong?” She sniffed and sat up. He grabbed her a couple Kleenex and she wiped her eyes. She sat still, looking down at the wet Kleenex in her hands. After a minute she looked up at Marcus, “I feel so bad for her. She’s so lonely.”

Her mom’s name was Ruth. Her dad’s name was Cal. He was in pharmaceutical sales—a “drug rep”—and he traveled a lot. Since Cal had a good paying job, Ruth could stay home with the kids, something she always dreamed of. One day he came home and said he would be gone for a couple weeks. He never came back. Ruth later found out he met a pretty young nurse at a doctor’s office in Plano.

Ruth was 28. Lauren was 7. Eddie was 10. She had to go to work. They hired her to wait tables at Cracker Barrel. Ruth worked hard, she was smart, and people liked her. She worked her way up to manager. She tried to fix her schedule so she could get home before the kids got home from school. It didn’t always work that way, but she tried.

Early on she decided that whatever else she lost, she was not going to lose her children to the world. With God’s help she would raise Lauren and Eddie with rock-solid faith. So every day, without exception, she talked to them about the Bible. Every day, without exception, she prayed for them and with them. Every Sunday, without exception, they went to worship services and stayed close to their brothers and sisters in Christ. In this way, both kids grew up devoted to the Lord, full of God’s word, full of love for God and others.

But great faith doesn’t make a hard life easy. Ruth struggled. Money was tight. They scraped by. She got so tired. Working. Looking after the kids. Taking care of the house. All on her own. And like every woman Ruth longed for attention and affection. Single men (and some married men) flirted with her at the restaurant. But she had decided long ago she would not even consider a relationship until the kids were grown. The hardest thing was seeing happy young families at church with loving and involved fathers. The first scripture Lauren every learned by heart was the one her mother always quoted, usually at about 10:30 at night when she tucked the kids into bed. It was John 16:33, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

This afternoon Lauren had been on the phone with her mom. Ruth started to cry as she talked about some of her regular customers, an older couple that had been married fifty years. They celebrated their anniversary last week with a bunch of family and grandkids. Lauren felt for her mom but she wanted to help her be strong. “Mom…mom…John 16:33.” Ruth took a deep breath and recited the verse, word for word, with a few sobs for punctuation. “Thanks for talking to me, honey. I feel better.” Lauren hung up the phone just before Marcus walked in.

Marcus sat on the bed a while. Then he picked up the phone and dialed Ruth’s number. She picked up after two rings. “Ruth, it’s Marcus. If it wasn’t for you raising Lauren to be faithful, I would be lost.”

Marcus Redding Loses His Temper

2009-09-18T07:30:00.000-05:00

Marcus hollered to his co-worker on the forklift, “Steve, can you bring out another pallet of peanuts?” Steve nodded and brought out a full pallet from the back. Marcus stacked three big boxes on the dolly and wheeled them to the truck. He didn’t see Steve nod to two other guys who were already hiding inside the truck. While Marcus was bent over loading the boxes, they jumped up and sprayed Marcus with silly string. Surprised, Marcus jumped up and banged his head hard on one of the shelves in the truck. It almost knocked him out. He was dizzy and seeing stars and a goose egg was coming up just at the top of his forehead. Corey walked up to him and said, “Oh, man I’m sorry.” Marcus reacted. He lunged at Corey and shoved him, calling him a bad name. Steve pulled Marcus back, “Whoa, whoa, whoa…it was just a joke…cool down.” Marcus jerked himself away and walked off. Corey went to the office and made Marcus an ice pack. He came out and found Marcus sitting on a stack of boxes in a corner. Again, he told Marcus he was sorry. Marcus just took the ice pack and looked away.

When Lauren got home he was lying on the couch with a fresh ice pack on his forehead. “Marcus Redding what happened to you?!” Marcus didn’t say anything at first. She sat down on the other end of the couch and spoke to him again, more gently this time, “Marcus, what happened?” He took off the ice pack. She raised her eyebrows. After a while he explained. Now it was Lauren’s turn not to say anything. The room was quiet for a minute or two. Marcus broke the silence, “I overreacted…I’m embarrassed…what is that scripture you told me about last week…from James…quick to listen…slow to speak…” Lauren helped him out, “Quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness that God requires.” “Yeah, that one,” Marcus sighed, “And I’m supposed to be a Christian…a good example.” Lauren put her hand on his leg, “Just apologize tomorrow…first thing…and move on.” Marcus nodded and laid the ice pack back on his head. He prayed silently and confessed the sin of losing his temper.

Corey came in the door at 7:55 and Marcus was right there to meet him. “I’m sorry, Corey. I overreacted. Sorry. Let me buy you lunch today.” He held out his hand. Corey didn’t hesitate. He shook Marcus’s hand, “That’s all right man. That’s all right. You banging your head was my fault. Are you all right?” Marcus waved his hand, “I’m fine. Let me take you to El Lugar for lunch.” “You don’t have to do that,” Corey protested. Marcus turned and grabbed a dolly and said over his shoulder, “Twelve o’clock, El Lugar.”

Over the loud music and lunchtime conversation, they ordered their quesadillas and found a seat. They talked about sports and work as they waited for their food. The girl called for #47 and Marcus went up to the counter. But right as Marcus was about to turn in his number and pick up the tray, a teenage kid came up and grabbed their food and started to take it to another seat. Marcus said, “I think you got my food there buddy.” The kid looked at Marcus, then walked right by him and set the two plates on his own table. Marcus was more puzzled than upset. He went over to the guy and said again, “I think you got my food.” This time the kid ignored him. Now Marcus was upset. He was about to raise his voice when he remembered Lauren’s voice, “slow to speak, slow to anger.” So before he made a fool of himself for the second time in two days he turned around and went back to the counter, showing the girl the receipt, and the plastic #47 she gave him. The girl smiled and said she would take care of it.

Marcus followed her back to the kid’s table. When they got there, the kid was using sign language.

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

Marcus Redding Falls Asleep

2009-09-10T11:33:00.000-05:00

He said goodbye to his folks and put his guitar back into the case. It was 10:00 so he turned on ESPN. He watched SportsCenter with Lauren every Sunday night before they went to bed. He propped up on one end of the couch with his feet toward the middle. She propped up on the other end of the couch with her feet toward the middle. They watched football highlights (the punter hit the scoreboard at Cowboys Stadium…again!), the baseball highlights (Rangers won, Mariners lost), and talked about the upcoming week during commercials. They usually turned off the TV and went to bed right after the Top Ten Plays of the Week.

But this time Marcus didn’t make it to 10:45, he nodded off to sleep around 10:30. Lauren got up and turned off the TV. She got tomorrow’s lunch ready for Marcus and dropped a SHMILY note into the brown paper bag. As she brushed her teeth she turned off all the lights, except the lamp on the table next to the couch where Marcus was asleep. She moved a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer so Marcus could have his work clothes ready in the morning. As she was stuffing socks and T-shirts into the dryer something fell out of Marcus’s work pants and clanged on the tile floor, landing in the little space between the washer and the dryer. She couldn’t reach in to pick it up so she had to shove the washer over a few inches. When she looked down she smiled.

It was a small metal-rimmed picture frame, maybe a couple inches square, with thick plastic on both sides. She picked it up and turned it over a couple times in her hands. On one side was a little photo of 15 year old Marcus and his dad at Lake Padden. They were soaking wet and they had their arms around each other, big smiles on their faces. On the other side was a little photo of Marcus and her in front of a waterfall at a park in Arkansas. They had backpacks on and walking sticks in their hands. She squeezed it in her hand and started the dryer.

She went back out into the kitchen and sat at their kitchen/card table, set the little picture frame next to her computer, and opened up her laptop. She typed Marcus a note…

“I found this when I was doing the laundry last night. I didn’t know you still carried it around, but it reminded me how much I love you. I love this picture of you and your dad after your baptism. It reminds me of how you were buried with Jesus into death and raised to walk in a new life. And I love the picture of you and me at the waterfall. It reminds me of how Jesus said ‘they are no longer two but one.’ The fact that you carry it around shows that you love God and you love me.

Marcus, you always give me credit for helping you regain your faith. But all I did was turn you around and point you back to Jesus. You took the first steps. God saw you a long way off and ran and embraced you and kissed you. You have a good and honest heart. I’m so happy to be your wife. I’m so proud of you. I love you, Marcus.”

She printed out the letter and took it over to the couch where he was sleeping, half-snoring by now. She left the note on his stomach and put the picture frame on top of it. She kissed his forehead and went to bed.

When Lauren got up in the morning Marcus had already gone to work. He left a note on the counter that said, “James 5:19-20. I love you.”

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

Marcus Redding Sings

2009-09-07T16:26:00.003-05:00

David Redding was sitting on a bench in the foyer. He looked at the time on his cell phone. 8:15! Sunday evening services were over at 7:00, but there were still three or four groups of people talking in the foyer. It didn’t bother David at all. He remembered Acts 2:44, “All who believed were together…”

Marcus and Lauren were talking with Armando and Terry Lilly. They had a lot in common, both young couples that really wanted to do God’s will. David was glad his son had friends in the church. He’d seen it over and over again. Kids who grew up in the church but didn’t form any real close friendships with other Christians…they fell away when they went to college and had trouble getting back.

Armando had to get up early for work so they said goodbye. Marcus told his dad and mom that he didn’t bring his guitar, but if they still wanted to hear his song they could come by the apartment and have a bite to eat, only he and Lauren would have to stop by the store and pick up a few groceries first. David said that was fine, he’d have to stay a while to lock up anyway, meet them at the apartment in a little while.

Lauren picked up milk and eggs and paper towels. Marcus got a frozen pizza (supreme) to share with his folks. As they drove back to the apartment Lauren turned and looked at her husband, “You still haven’t let me hear this song of yours, Mr. Shy Artist.” “More like Mr. Wannabe Artist,” he replied. “There hasn’t been anything to hear. It’s a work in progress.” Lauren looked back out the window, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Marcus liked to play the guitar and he liked to sing, but he was always a little embarrassed about it. He knew music. Tunes just came to him. But he struggled with lyrics and he was hesitant to let people hear him sing, even his mom and dad, even Lauren. He was always worried his songs would sounds silly, too poetic, overdone.

But his dad knew all that and wanted to encourage Marcus to work on songwriting, a positive way to spend his time. It would be easier to fall back into his old ways if he wasn’t busy doing good things.

“Let’s hear it buddy.” His dad sat on the couch across from Marcus who sat on the floor with his guitar. “Okay, but don’t laugh.” First he played the chord progression without singing. Then he went through the tune again, this time picking out the individual notes, still without singing. Lauren sliced up the pizza and handed it to Marcus’s parents on paper plates. “He’s good, isn’t he?...there’s tea on the kitchen counter,” she spoke quietly so as not to interrupt Marcus.

When he finished playing through the second time, he said “Cirrus Highway,” and sang these lyrics:

Little brick house, big backyard, “Come on dad, let’s go outside”
Gray clouds roll in, starts to rain, they run and hide
Sun breaks through, the clouds burn off, “let’s go play”
They toss the ball back and forth, underneath the cirrus highway

Chorus:

Horizons dissolve/distress disappears
Cruising along the cirrus highway
Gravity’s gone/no more fears
Riding high on a cirrus highway

Another house, big gray bars, no place to play
Clouds roll in, thunder rolls, storms today
It’s dark and getting darker, no light, no day
Can’t see through to the cirrus highway

Number 203 on the door, coffee steaming in my cup
She walks in, let’s go outside, before the sun comes up
It’s bright and getting brighter, look to the west
Thin clouds on high, on high, cirrus highway at its best

He strummed the last chord and the room went quiet. A small round of applause. Lauren asked him, “Where did you get the idea for those lyrics?”

Marcus said, “1 Thessalonians 4:17.”

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

Marcus Redding Worships God

2009-08-31T09:05:00.002-05:00

Twenty people must have come up to him between the time he walked in the building and the moment he took his seat in the auditorium. It was a little embarrassing, but he appreciated it. Mrs. Jones gave him a hug and asked how work was going. Mr. Allen, who worked with his dad for years, shook his hand and talked about playing the guitar. His friend Kevin—they had gone to church together since they were three years old—always gave him the handshake-with-one-arm-half-hug-with-the-other-arm that guys do. It had been almost a year now since he regained his faith, since he held Lauren’s hand as he walked down to aisle to stand in front of his brothers and sisters—and his own mother and father—to express his repentance for four years of rejecting the Lord and letting Satan rule his life.

Bill Chancko stood in the pulpit to call everyone to worship. Marcus was glad to be there.

Blyn Dalltin led a mix of older hymns and newer songs of praise. Marcus didn’t sing loud, but he focused on the words. He loved the poetry of the second song:

The sands of time are sinking/The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for/The fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark had been the midnight/But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth/In Emmanuel’s land.

Marcus knew “midnight.” He lived four years in darkness. Then he met Lauren. She showed him the Jesus he had forgotten. The dawn of heaven broke.

John Humble got up to preach. The sermon was on Mark 14:22-24. He encouraged everyone to consider that, by rights, it should have been our bodies that were broken and our blood that was poured out. But we were forgiven because Jesus was forsaken. We were accepted because he was condemned. We were alive because he died and rose again.

After the sermon the gentlemen prayed before distributing the bread for the Lord’s Supper. Marcus held Lauren’s hand and closed his eyes. “This is my body,” Jesus said. But Marcus thought about his own body, four straight years of sins that he committed in his body. A four-year blur in his memory, an alcohol-soaked mixture of resentment, fighting, and waking up in strange places and not knowing how he got there or who that was next to him. He took a piece of the bread. “This is my body,” Jesus said. “He died for me,” Marcus thought. He squeezed Lauren’s hand. She leaned over and whispered one word to him, “Grace.”

The gentlemen prayed before passing around the cups. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” Jesus said. Marcus repeated that verse in his mind but substituted his own name for “many.” Then he thought about the passage from Hebrews, “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sin.” He looked at the scars on his forearms, his knuckles, his wrists. The ones he could see anyway. He had covered most of them with tatoos. He had bled a lot and made others bleed. He took a little cup and drank it down. “This is my blood,” Jesus said, “poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

“Thank you.” Marcus almost said it out loud.

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

Marcus Redding's Sunday Morning

2009-08-21T10:18:00.002-05:00

He woke up to the smell of Sunday morning coffee. As usual, Lauren was up early and made coffee for him. She didn’t drink coffee herself. More of an orange juice girl. But she made him coffee every Sunday morning.

After he got ready he sat down across from her at their kitchen (card) table. As she finished her Raisin Bran, she said, “You were asleep when I got home. What did you do last night?” Marcus looked at her and smiled an embarrassed smile and sipped his coffee. “I almost burned myself,” he said. Lauren frowned, “Well let it cool down before you drink it then.” “No, I meant last night…I almost burned myself last night.” And he told Lauren about going to Ron’s house to watch UFC 101. And how he left when he realized that he couldn’t be holy and also watch guys beat the tar out of each other. And how the smell of the beer they were drinking brought back bad memories for him. “So I left,” he concluded.

Lauren reached across the table—which wasn’t that far a reach—and squeezed Marcus’s hand, “I’m proud of you.” “I shouldn’t have gone in the first place.” “I’m proud of you.” “Thanks, Lauren.” He glanced at his cell phone. “Time to go.”

They drove to the church building. A ten minute drive from their apartment. Marcus parked away from the front door, just like his dad always did. He would explain, “Leave the closer parking places for older folks and families with little kids.” His dad was always doing things like that. In fact, his dad (David) and mom (Abigail) pulled up and parked right next to them. They all got out and greeted each other. Lauren held Abigail’s hand as they walked across the parking lot to the building. Marcus and his dad walked behind the ladies.

“How’s your song coming?”

“I’ve got the tune, I’m just working on the lyrics”

“Come over after evening services tonight and play it for me.”

“All right.”

As they approached the door, Marcus walked a little slower and let his dad go in front. David knew what was going on. He reached out to open the door and held it for the ladies. Marcus hesitated. David knew why.

This door to the church building was the same door David held open for Marcus and Bruce five years ago, the Wednesday night after he got his license, the Wednesday night when Marcus wanted to take his friend for a drive, the Wednesday night of the car wreck in which Bruce died. David had stood in this very same doorway five years ago and reminded Marcus to be careful and to check in on his cell phone or at least text him and to be home by 10:00. Since Marcus had only regained his faith less than a year ago, it still bothered him to walk through that door. And to see his dad there again. It brought back haunting memories. Some Sundays he would just take a right turn and go through the side door. Some Sundays it was all Lauren could do to hold his hand and keep him from walking back to the car and leaving all together. The flashbacks to the accident, remembering Bruce’s parents at the graveside, it was all too intense.

But this Sunday he was all right. Lauren had walked in with Abigail. She glanced over her shoulder at him. Then he saw his dad holding the door. The door into the place of assembly where he could worship the God who had saved him once…and rescued him again. “Come on, buddy,” David said, “Remember…Philippians 3:13-14.”

Marcus took a deep breath and walked in.

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

Marcus Redding Taps Out

2009-08-14T12:58:00.001-05:00

12:30. Lunch break was over. Back to work. The rest of the day went like normal until they were about to go home. Ron jumped off the forklift and plugged it in to the charger. He caught Marcus at the door. “Hey man, why don’t you come over to me and my brother’s house tonight. We’re having some guys over to watch UFC 101. Pizza’s on me.”

Now Marcus had a problem. He had been trying to set a good example for Ron, praying for his mom, inviting him to the Rangers game. Ron appreciated his kindness and Marcus knew this was his way of saying thanks. He wanted to go, if for no other reason than to keep building a friendship with him. And Lauren was working late tonight...

But he knew they would wash down that pizza with something. And it wouldn’t be Kool-Aid. And UFC? He’d watched highlights of mixed martial arts on SportsCenter with Lauren. Whenever it would come on she would say something like, “I can’t figure out why Christians watch this. Remember Philippians 4:8? I’d rather watch cricket than outright violence marketed as a legitimate sport.”

All these thoughts flashed through Marcus’s mind in about three seconds. Then he heard himself tell Ron, “I’ll be there.” Ron smiled, “All right. 7:00. You know where I live?” Marcus nodded. But his conscience had already gone to work on him.

For the next few hours as he washed up, played his guitar a little, and watched the news on TV, it was a battle of two voices. One said, “This is a chance to build a relationship with Ron and his brother. It’ll be fun. Harmless.” The other said, “Ron and his brother don’t drink Kool-Aid and UFC doesn’t stand for Ultra Friendly Croquet. What are you thinking?” But the first voice was stronger and he found himself knocking on Ron’s door at 7:00.

“Hey man, thanks for coming. Pizza’s on the way. Come and watch the undercard fights. Look at this guy.” Marcus sat down at the kitchen table and watched the big screen. Two fighters in the octagon. One had the other pinned to the ground, knee on his chest, and he was pounding away punch after punch. Then he let the guy up, it was obvious his nose was broken. Blood all over his face. The stronger guy spun around behind him and put him in a chokehold. The bloody fighter weakly tapped his opponent’s arm, the ref broke in, the winner jumped up and pounded his chest, the loser crumpled to the mat as the doctor flew in to help him. And Marcus heard Lauren’s voice, “Philippians 4:8.”

He tried not to pay attention to the fights and just talk to Ron and his brother and his friends. But every few minutes someone was opening another Coors Light. The smell of beer brought back memories. Right before the main event Ron’s brother sat down next to him, “Thanks for coming man. Ron says you are a good guy. He’s glad he works with you. Want a beer?” “Umm..no...thanks...how’s your mom doing?” But Ron’s brother didn’t hear him, he was watching the fight.

The other voice was starting to win. He knew he’d have a rough time at work. But he had to do it. He found a note pad. Scribbled a note. Came up behind Ron, who was sitting on the couch. Discreetly passed him the note. Tapped him two times on the shoulder and said, “I’m tapping out. See you Monday.”

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

Marcus Redding in the Break Room

2009-08-03T11:30:00.001-05:00

“Did you get a little love note in your lunch Marcus? Come on, what does it say...let’s see it.” He could have told Ron to mind his own business but then the guys would have teased him more, so he went on the offensive. “Here you go.” He handed Ron the note that Lauren left in his lunch--the one that had the happy face, the letters “SHMILY,” and the scripture Acts 11:24a.

Ron scoffed, “S-H-M-I-L-Y...Schmilly? What is that? Acts? Is that something from the Bible?” Rather than get defensive, Marcus just said, “It stands for ‘See how much I love you.’ The scripture says ‘he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.’ She’s trying to convince me I’m a good man. I wish I was as good to her as she is to me.”

With that Marcus took his tupperware full of lentils and rice out of the old 1985-model break room microwave. The other three guys passed around the note but didn’t say anything, just went on chewing their sandwiches, reading the sports page, and spitting tobacco juice into styrofoam cups. After a long minute Ron said, “When I was a kid my mom used to leave a note in my lunch when I would go to school.”

This was not typical lunch room conversation. Right then it happened that Marcus picked up the community salt shaker and gave it a couple shakes over his lunch. That triggered another scripture in his mind. Another scripture that Lauren always threw into conversation when they got home at night and talked about their day: Matthew 5:13.

Marcus sat down across from Ron. “How is your mom doing?”

“She’s doing about as well as you can do for having cancer and Alzheimers at the same time.”
“Have you talked to your sister lately?”
“She called last week, Thursday I think it was. She said mom recognized her. But mom was mad they had to poke her with another IV. I don’t know why they are still giving her chemo. She’s not going to beat the cancer. It makes her weak and seems like it makes the Alzheimers worse.”
“When was the last time you saw your mom?”

Ron’s face hardened. He looked out the window. Not at anything. One of those long looks into the past. “It’s been a while. Haven’t got a chance between work and...” He words trailed off into a grim sigh.

“Your mom lives in Arlington, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Lauren got four tickets to a Rangers game from somebody at work. The game is next weekend. Come with us. We’ll leave early and we’ll take you by the nursing home so you can see your mom.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Can I pray for your mom?”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, right now.”
“Okay, I guess”

Ron awkwardly took off his hat. Marcus prayed. When he finished, he looked up and saw Ron had tears in his eyes. Ron looked down at his newspaper and said, “Your lunch is getting cold.”

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

Marcus Redding Goes To Work

2009-07-24T20:45:00.000-05:00

So there he stood in the little dining area of their second-floor apartment. And there she sat in front of her laptop computer set up on their card table/dining room table. He had his arm around her shoulder. He was thinking James 5:19-20. That’s what she did for him. She had her arm around his waist. She was thinking Philippians 3:13-14. That’s what she wanted for him ever since they met two years ago.

So, still with her left arm around him, she used her right hand to type out that scripture. She turned the computer towards him and angled back the screen. He read it silently. Then he looked at her and smiled and said, “I’ve got to go to work pretty soon. What are you doing today?”

“I’m still working on that infrastructure improvement project for TJC.”

“Still?”

“Still. It’s a long-term deal. Some of the systems are getting old. So right now I’m creating a program that will monitor the electricity grid, the chilled water loop, and the hot water loop.”

“You are amazing. I’ve got to get ready for work. I love you.”

He kissed the top of her head and walked down to the bedroom—the only bedroom in their little apartment. As he got ready he looked up at their wedding picture then down at his guitar in the corner which reminded him of the new song he was working on. He hummed the tune as he looked out the window at their view of Albertsons’ roof and Loop 323. Ready to go, he walked back out and saw Lauren had a brown bag lunch ready for him, sitting on the corner of the table. “See you tonight,” she said, “Remember to eat your lunch.”

He had worked at Colby’s Wholesale for just over a year now. He mostly worked the evening shift, in the warehouse, driving the forklift, filling orders, loading trucks. A couple times a week Colby would let him get out of the warehouse and make deliveries to gas stations in Tyler and the rest of East Texas. Usually he drove the same route: Chandler, Brownsboro, Murchison, Athens. But sometimes they put him on the Whitehouse, Troup, Rusk route. He didn’t like those days. He had to take 346 into Whitehouse...

But today he was in the warehouse. It was a quiet day and he chatted with the guys as he worked. It took them a while to accept him after he came back to the Lord. He used to go drinking with them and his language was as filthy as theirs. But after Lauren helped him regain his faith, he wouldn’t hang out with them after work anymore and he cleaned up his dirty mouth. They resented that. Somehow they took it personally. But he was a good worker and a good listener. If they needed help with a project at home, he would bring his tools and pitch in. And they liked to hear him play his guitar on their lunch break.

But today at lunch he didn’t have his guitar. So as they talked about Obama’s healthcare plan and the storm last Tuesday and the Texas Rangers, he got out his brown bag lunch. A big tupperware full of lentils and rice with ham, two bananas, gatorade. And a little folded up piece of paper. Even as he unfolded it, he knew what he would see...

A happy face...the letters S-H-M-I-L-Y...and the scripture “Acts 11:24a.”

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

Marcus and Lauren Redding

2009-07-18T15:09:00.001-05:00

There was her text message on his cell phone: 1 John 3:19-20. How many times his wife had reminded him about those two verses, “By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything.” Marcus took a deep breath, looked down at Bruce’s grave, took another deep breath, then turned and walked back to his car.

As he walked back to his car he sent his wife a text message: Proverbs 31:10-11. It was kind of a game for them. Not a fun or funny game, just something they did, sending each other text messages with scriptures for whatever they were doing at the time. How many times he had thought of those verses when he thought about Lauren.

It was about a fifteen minute drive from the cemetery back to their apartment and he didn’t feel like listening to the radio. So he just blasted the air conditioning (it had been 100 degrees during the day for the last 3 weeks!) and thought about Lauren as he drove home. He remembered the first time he saw her. Or at least the first time he saw the top of her head. Behind a computer. In the computer lab at TJC.

He had come in to check his email and sat down toward the back. He heard two girls talking at the front. One girl was talking to Lauren, the teacher assistant in charge of the lab. The girl was a student, complaining that her computer wasn’t working and she desperately needed to turn in a project before 11:00. The poor gal was almost in tears, going on and on about how she’d fail the class if she didn’t turn this in on time. Lauren told the girl to calm down and she would help her. Lauren pulled an empty chair up next to her computer, patted the seat, and said, “Come on, I’ll help you.” For the next 30 minutes she helped the girl finish her project. Marcus never saw Lauren’s face, just heard her kind voice and could barely see the top of her head, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had his attention.

Though some might have considered it a form of stalking, Marcus noticed when Lauren left the computer lab and he nonchalantly followed her from a distance. After weaving through campus, trying not to actually look like a stalker, he noticed Lauren stop and talk to a group of 5 or 6 girls in front of the gym. He sat down on a bench and watched her, and them. One girl had a Bible and read it for a bit. Then all the girls bowed their heads. It looked like they were praying. Then they hugged each other and said goodbye. She walked into the gym. Marcus resolved to “check his email” the next morning at 10:30 in the computer lab.

By now he was back home. He parked the car and walked up the steps to their apartment. He opened the door. There she was at the kitchen table, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, typing on the computer, open Bible lying on the table. He didn’t say anything. Just went over and gave her a hug. “Did you get my text?” She said yes. By now he had tears in his eyes. Not weeping or crying. Just tears in his eyes. He told Lauren, “If it wasn’t for you, I would be lost...in more ways than one.”

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

Meet Marcus Redding

2009-07-14T13:57:00.001-05:00

It had been five years since he passed away. But it seemed like yesterday. That’s what Marcus thought as he stood at his best friend’s grave.

They had just finished their sophomore year of high school. It was three days after school got out and Marcus’s dad took him down to get his license. He passed the test. Making complete stops at stop signs. Signaling plenty in advance. Parallel parking like a champ. He said “Yes, sir” and “No, sir” very politely to the DMV guy behind the counter who issued his license. He marched outside the office with his head held high and showed his dad his new driver’s license. His dad smiled and gave him a high five. And then came “The Talk.” Marcus knew it was coming.

His dad told him how this was another step to becoming a man, how he trusted him to be responsible, how more freedom brings more responsibility, he even quoted statistics about teenagers in car accidents. But his dad said he trusted him. Marcus would have a curfew and he’d have to let his folks know where he was at all times (“That’s why they invented cell phones,” his dad said.) But as long as he checked in with his folks and came home on time, he was free to do what he liked. Then Marcus’s dad prayed for him, right there in the parking lot. Prayed Marcus would be responsible, safe, a good example to his friends as he took this next little step to maturity. Marcus gave his dad a hug and thanked him for trusting him and told him he would not let him down.

The next Wednesday Marcus was anxious to show off his license (and the 1975 El Camino his grandpa gave him) to all the kids in the youth group. After Bible study he invited a few friends to come with him for a ride. The youth minister told them to be careful and check in with their parents first. Turned out only his best friend Bruce could go with him. So they went out for a drive.

Standing at Bruce’s grave five years later, with five years of the grief process behind him, Marcus understood what happened that evening. It was a combination of being sixteen, just getting out of school, his dad’s trust, and a sense of invincibility that made him drive too fast down 346 to Whitehouse. And the sun was setting just low enough that drivers had to shield their eyes and try to stay in their lane while navigating the curvy road. Marcus came around a long turn and the sun hit him in the eyes. As he reached to pull down the sun visor he slipped off the right side of the road, pulled the wheel hard left, and overcorrected. The last thing he heard Bruce say was a quiet and fearful “No.”

The oncoming car in the other lane hit the passenger side of the El Camino head on. Bruce was killed instantly. Marcus, somehow, came away with only a mild concussion, a broken right arm, and a lot of his friend’s blood on his shirt.

The grief and the regret and the self-hatred had settled down in the five years since the accident. But the questions of faith had only intensified. Yes, Bruce was a Christian. Yes, he was saved. Yes, he was in heaven. That was some comfort. But Marcus remembered seeing Bruce’s parents at the funeral...and here at the graveside...and their white handkerchiefs, wet with tears, contrasting with his mom’s black dress and his dad’s black suit.

So Marcus never stopped asking “Why am I still here? Shouldn’t it have been me? It was my fault. Bruce was better than me, he prayed more, he was kind to all the kids at school, from the starting pointguard to the goths who hung out on the corner, he talked about going to Harding someday...”

The ring of his cell phone broke his thoughts. It was a text message. From his wife. She knew where he was. The message just said, “1 John 3:19-20.”

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