Brent groaned with the idea of another ‘lit’ paper being due. A momentary flashback to the sheer monotony of the in-school suspension room, though, made him acknowledge that having the freedom to do anything outside of those walls was a good thing.

Perspective.

He was becoming a glass-half-full guy now. If he’d tried thinking that way a little over a month prior, no doubt that he would have failed. But, his relationship with the Lord and his growing knowledge of the Bible were purifying his mind and softening his attitudes.

The day before, Brent had heard two of his guy friends joking that he’d been “brainwashed by organized religion.” Initially that had ticked him off. Later, though, with his emotions in check, he’d thought those comments through. He ended up agreeing with them. He was being brainwashed. Good thing, too, he’d thought. After all the garbage I’ve put into my mind, my brain needs a good washing!

He sat now, in front of a blank piece of notebook paper. For the past twenty minutes, he’d been trying to develop a good thesis statement. But, with the school’s library being so warm, he felt he was more likely to develop a good nap. He needed to stand up and maybe get a drink of water. The thought became moot when the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

Brent stood up and gathered his papers and books. He paused for a moment, looking down at his new Bible. He picked it up. It was black leather with a zippered cover. In gilded letters of gold, it read “Holy Bible” on the front. Never mind that it was a thees-and-thous King James Version. It was the visibility factor that he wanted. He wanted everyone in the school to see him walking with it.

He unzipped and opened the cover and read for the hundredth time the inscription his grandmother had written within:

My Dearest Brent,

Simple words aren’t enough to tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you. My greatest prayer for you right now is for you to know Jesus better and better every day. Never be embarrassed of him, because he was never embarrassed of you. He is your greatest friend and defender, so you can stand for him, knowing he will always be there for you. The Lord gave me a message for you: Psalm 91:14-16

Always My Love and Prayers,

Mamaw

How often does God give someone a message from another person? he wondered. Brent felt blessed and honored every time he read the Scripture passage. He had taken a highlighter that first night that he’d received the Bible and marked the verses so that they would stand out.

Brent thought back to what his grandmother had said on the phone. She had been praying for him every day. Amazing. It’s as if she knew the battle he was dealing with. Had she known? Was it possible that God had informed her? He knew instinctively that if it hadn’t been for his grandmother’s prayers, he wouldn’t be alive right now experiencing the promises held in that Psalm.

God, bless her, he prayed silently.

Picking up his books, he headed for the hallway. Before making his way to his locker, he made a left turn into the nearest restroom. Opening the door and walking in, he immediately regretted not going straight to the bus. Standing before him was Galen Todd and two others guys—Tim Alcorn and Joey Parks—that Brent didn’t know well.

Galen saw him immediately. No backing out.

“Hey there, Bible Boy,” mocked Galen. “It’s funny you should walk in here like this. We were just talking about you.”

Brent decided to play it casual. “Hey, Galen.” He stepped toward the row of urinals, but Galen stepped in front of him, putting his right hand firmly on Brent’s chest.

“Come on, Galen. Let’s not do this. Okay?” said Brent in a measured tone.

“Lawton, that’s not quite like you. What’s wrong, turning into a pansy?

Brent didn’t respond, he just locked eyes with Galen, his muscles tensing.

Galen continued. “It’s about time you and I had a little talk. You see, I have a problem with you. Guess I always have. But do you know what the new problem is, Bible Boy?”

Brent took a step back, trying to distance Galen’s hand from his body. But Galen stepped forward, too, and pushed Brent backward, pressing him up against a full-length mirror on the wall.

“Galen, don’t, man. All right?” Brent’s adrenaline level was beginning to spike. He knew that Galen and he were pretty evenly matched should it come to blows, but that’s what Brent wanted to desperately avoid. He had changed, and part of that transformation was a softening of his heart toward Galen.

He no longer hated the wrestler, but he still struggled with the idea of looking weak by backing down. A fight right now, though, was certainly not in God’s plans. He was sure of that.

“Lawton, you’ve become little more than a girl. At least before you were willing to show you weren’t a wimp. You’ve given me all the advantage that I need; not that I need any. Right now you and your wimpy religion are going to take a dive. After I’m done with you, you’ll think twice about trying to make me look stupid in class again.” Galen made a fist and forced it down upon the stack of books that Brent held, causing them to slap the floor.

Still playing the pacifist, Brent clenched his teeth and simply bent down to pick them up. Galen kicked a notebook across the bathroom and into a stall.

God, help me with this.

“Come on, man.” He stood back up. “Galen, I never meant…”

“Shut up!” shouted Galen with a stab into the air; his finger pointed at Brent’s face.

Brent’s fingers instinctively drew into fists. He watched Galen’s eyes and saw his attention drawn toward a particular black book resting on the floor. Galen bent down, picked it up, and tossed it at Brent. He caught it.

“Take your little book, Bible Boy. Do you feel it saving you right now?” Galen laughed at his verbal jab. “The way I see it, only sissies carry Bibles.” He looked back at his friends, apparently expecting them to be enjoying the spectacle. Instead, they stood there, unsure, with muted stares.

That’s when it happened. Again.

Brent felt another surge of Holy Spirit boldness course through him. He took a step toward Galen, fire burning in his eyes.

Galen turned his attention back toward Brent and saw his advance. He stepped backward out of reflex, but just as quickly stopped and regained his stance.

Brent lifted his Bible up in full view of everyone in the bathroom. “You think this book is wimpy, Galen?”

Galen stared dead into Brent’s eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is.”

“And you think that I’m a wimp for carrying it around; that somehow this book makes me weak,” Brent asserted.

“That’s right. Your religion and that book are nothing but a crutch for people who can’t handle life on their own terms.” Galen looked back again at Tim and Joey who obviously didn’t want to involve themselves. They were looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Brent brought Galen’s attention back when he said, “Here, you take it,” and extended the Bible out to him.

“What?” Galen’s expression and another step backward let Brent know that the tide had turned. “No. I don’t want your book.”

“Why, because it’s a book of weakness? Because you’re too big and important to be seen holding it?”

“Lawton, right now I’d shut up if I were you.”

“Galen, here’s the deal. You call me weak. But I dare you… I dare you to take this book, and tomorrow, with it in full view, walk around the halls of this school all day.”

Galen just glared.

“Come on, Galen. Take it.” He took a step forward, but this time Galen didn’t move. “If you think it’s so easy to carry this book around, let me see you do it.”

Galen’s two friends looked at each other for a moment then turned back to watch Galen’s response. Once again he was faced with having to deal with a situation that his own words had gotten him into. Once again he was looking the fool.

Time seemed to stop. Brent determined that the next person to say something was going to be Galen Todd. He was going to have to extricate himself from this situation on his own. Brent wasn’t going to make it easy on him now that he had the upper hand in this conflict.

After a good minute of silence, Galen’s posture relaxed. He looked back at his friends and said, “Come on, guys. We’re going to miss the bus.” Breaking eye contact with Brent, Galen walked around him and headed for the door, Tim and Joey following.

Brent heard the door close behind him. His fingers tingled like they did the first time he had a Holy-Spirit led confrontation with Galen. He took a deep breath and slowly released it with a word of thanks to God. Another clash had been dealt with by the Lord, and again he had come out of it untouched.

He crouched and picked up his books, then walked over to the stall in which his notebook lay. Picking it up, he wondered how long his luck would hold out when it came to Galen.

Luck?

Brent realized immediately that his word choice had been a discredit to the Lord. Luck didn’t exist, and even if it did, luck would never again get the glory for the good that happened in his life. He was going to be grateful only to God.

He’d been called a wimp for believing in God. Let everyone think so. Let them throw words at him. He knew better. He just loved his Savior.

“Because he loves Me, says the Lord, therefore I will deliver him.” Those words from Psalm ninety-one—Brent’s ‘message from the Lord’—were certainly proving prophetic.