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.
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