Marcus Redding's First Day on the Ranch

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

“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

“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

“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

“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.