“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.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Marcus Redding Hears a Sound
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.
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.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Marcus Redding's Last Day At Work
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 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.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Marcus Redding’s Solution For Worry
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.
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.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Marcus Redding Wonders What Is Next
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.
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.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Marcus Redding's Gift of the Magi
“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 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.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Marcus Redding Hears A Poem
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.
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.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Marcus Redding Drives to Arlington
“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.
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.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Marcus Redding's Thanksgiving
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.
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.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Marcus Redding Has An Idea
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.
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.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Marcus Redding Has Insomnia
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 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.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Marcus Redding at the Cemetery
“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.
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.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Marcus Redding Goes to a Funeral
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 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.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Marcus Redding's Grandfather
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, 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.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Marcus Redding's iPod
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.
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.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Marcus Redding Has a Normal Day
“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 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.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Marcus Redding’s Mother-In-Law
“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.”
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.”
Friday, September 18, 2009
Marcus Redding Loses His Temper
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.
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.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Marcus Redding Falls Asleep
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.
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.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Marcus Redding Sings
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 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.
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