Marcus Redding: The Lost Episode

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

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

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

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

“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

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

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.