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Jeanne gasped and covered her mouth. What she’d witnessed floored her. She figured the brothers would reconcile since the entire family gathered in the center. Renee and Winston’s hopeful countenance vanished in an instant when Roland walked out the door without so much as an acknowledgment of their presence. Gone. What triggered such a reaction in the man to leave so fast? Please mend the divide between this family. Only You can.
The serving line thinned enough for Jeanne to step away and join her sister and brother-in-law. She rounded the serving counter and slipped her arm over Renee’s shoulders. “What just happened? Why did Roland leave so fast?”
Winston stared at the door and shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.” He gripped Renee’s and Jeanne’s hands. “We need to pray for my brother. I couldn’t see his face well to see what spurred his action, but I know he needs uplifting.”
With eyes closed and heads bowed, he cleared his sob-filled voice. “Heavenly Father, we praise Your holy name and are thankful for this chance to serve Your children at the center. Being Your hands is something You have blessed us with. You said that when two or more of Your children come together in agreement, You will be present. So, we are asking in total agreement that if it’s Your will, You’d please bring Roland home soon. We know You’ve directed him this far. Now would You continue to do so until he’s safely home—and we’ll never cease praying for him. Whatever he’s suffering through, please remove the burden and let him be assured we hold nothing against him—no blame, no bitterness, as You do the same with our repentance. If possible, would You guide someone to help or even offer a word of encouragement to my brother? We open our hearts and home to him. Surround him with Your hedge of protection. Again, Your will be done for him and us. In Jesus’ name. Amen.” At the center of the adult's circled prayer, two little voices softly said. “Amen.”
Jeanne released Winston’s hand and pulled Renee into a hug. “You guys take a short break. I’ll watch the kids.”
“Thanks.” Renee tugged on her husband’s sleeve. “Let’s take a stroll to the Garden for a minute.” She turned toward Jeanne. “We won’t take long. The sidewalks still have a couple of inches of snow on them.”
Winston nodded, followed his wife through the kitchen, and exited the back door.
Her brother-in-law’s chest literally deflated when his brother walked out the door, and Jeanne knew he needed some time to recover from the harsh shock. Both did.
She knelt in front of Marie and Brice. “Your mom and dad needed a minute together, and they’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, how about we play a word game?”
The two dark-headed children nodded. “We don’t know how to play that game, Aunt Jeanne.” Brice glanced at his sister as if she would back him up. And she did with a nod.
“I’ll teach you guys, and it’ll be fun. My teacher in first grade used to tell her class to put on our thinking caps.” Jeanne cupped her hands and moved them over her head as if she were actually setting a cap on top. She giggled to herself as she recalled when she carried out this very act as a child. “You children do the same.”
Little hands mimicked her actions by placing an invisible cap on their heads. “All right, children, look around the room and pick out one or two things you like, and then you tell me. I’ll spell the word first, and then you try. Afterward, we’ll use the words we spelled to make up a story. Does that sound like fun?” Every time Jeanne visited her family, she took delight in reading to the children at bedtime or whenever she got the opportunity. She always felt the more children read or being read to, immensely benefited them when they started school.
Smiles spread wide across the children’s faces, and their gazes swept the room, searching for a particular object. When finished, they turned back to Jeanne.
“Brice, you’re the oldest and have heard many more words and stories than Marie, so is it all right if she goes first?”
“Sure.” He patted his sister’s back. “Go ahead, Marie.”
“Sweetie, what did you see?” Jeanne encouraged.
The little girl brought a finger to her cheek, tapped it a few times, and then smiled. “Chair.”
“Okay, chair. Brice, can you spell the word chair?”
“No.” His chin dipped, and he ran a sleeve across his nose. “Should I?”
“You will after we finish, so don’t worry. I’ll spell it first, and then you guys try.”
Brice nodded. Marie followed his lead.
Slowly Jeanne spelled the word. “C-H-A-I-R. Marie, you try.”
“C-A-I...um...R. Is that right, Aunt Jeanne?”
“Almost. Okay, your turn.” She gave her nephew a smile and a supportive nod.
A deep line creased across the little boy’s forehead. “C-H-A-I-R.”
“Correct. Very good, Brice.” She rewarded him with a kiss on his forehead. “Marie, did you hear which letter you missed in the word?”
“No.” The little girl shook her head. Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay if we don’t get things right the first time. Your brother Brice is older, so don’t think you can’t do what he does or even better, and we each learn differently. I’ll spell it again for you, okay? Listen closely.”
Marie stepped closer and slid her little hand into her aunt’s. Jeanne wanted to giggle, but that might discourage or even hurt the child’s feelings, and she would never do that to such a precious, innocent child. “C-H-A-I-R. Your turn.”
Little Marie’s grip tightened. “C-H-A, um, I-R.” She stared at her aunt.
Jeanne smiled and rewarded her with a kiss on her forehead, just as she had with Brice. She definitely didn’t want the children to compete at this early age. “Correct. Great job, both of you. I’m proud of you guys.”
Suddenly, Renee and Winston hurried into the room like jackrabbits being chased by a coyote.
“Children, we’ll finish our game later.” Jeanne smiled, and the two little ones nodded.
Renee’s scrambled words made no sense. Then she drew a calming breath and spoke clearer. “Jeanne, we just saw Roland getting into Pastor Eli’s car. It looks like he’s taking him home.”
Confusion smothered Jeanne’s thinking. “What does that mean? Does he need to talk to him or correct something he did?”
“Oh, I forgot, you’re unaware that Pastor Eli and his wife often invite someone he trusts into their home as long as they want. This is so great.”
“Is it?”
“Roland is staying in Grove Hill. With the pastor helping with his spiritual and physical needs, it won’t be long before he’s home with us. We just have to give him space. Our prayers have been answered and sent someone to do what we couldn’t.”
“We prayed for Roland to come home, not for him to stay with someone else. I don’t understand, Ree.”
“Yes, we did, but this is better. The situation is under control. He’ll come home shortly, you’ll see. Thank you, sis, for believing in prayer and helping us.”
“You’re welcome. I hadn’t figured it’d be this fast. Winston, this quick action deserves our thanks for this swift blessing?”
Her brother-in-law’s smile widened. “Roland is not home yet but has taken a step toward us. Let’s bow our heads. You too, children.”
With their heads bowed, they thanked the Lord for His utmost and swift attention.
Pastor Eli led Roland to a side door of his home. “We use this suite for guests since Cheryl’s mother passed away—”
Roland could see the pain was still raw. “My condolences. How long has it been, Pastor?”
A tear rolled off the pastor’s cheek. “January will be a year. Cheryl’s parents had her late in life. Her father died of a heart attack when she was two, and her mother had dementia and died younger than most with the disease. She struggled with it over the years, and then when the medicine became less effective, she chose to stop all of it. Her last days were peaceful, and it was a blessing to Cheryl and me when she recalled my wife’s childhood and sang hymns.” He cleared the emotion from his throat. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”
After unlocking the door, he pushed it open and dropped the key in Roland’s hand. “Be sure to lock up when you go out. We might be a small community, but we still have those who wonder through the area that must steal for drugs or survival.”
Roland was well aware of those types and encountered them far too often on the streets. He stopped short of stepping over the threshold and imagined his worn boots were glued to the stoop for some reason. “Are you sure this is okay with your wife? I mean...um...this was her mother’s space.”
Pastor Eli nodded and smiled. “Absolutely. Come in, and I’ll give you the grand tour. It’s not much, but it’s homey.” He showed Roland around the small rooms, which included a combo bedroom and sitting area, walk-in closet, and bathroom. The nonspecific décor was ideal for Roland, and he was relieved it didn’t have personal pictures of the family.
“We eat breakfast at six and supper at five. Knock on the adjacent door.” He pointed. “You’re welcome to join us for both if you like. Cheryl is a wonderful cook.” He patted his stomach and smiled. “We’re usually not home for the midday meal, so you’ll need to fend for yourself. We installed a microwave and mini-fridge if you care to stock it—” He gripped Roland’s shoulder. “Sorry, forgot you’re broke. Get settled in, shower, and after the volunteers finish, I’ll bring you a change of clothes from the church’s closet.” He glanced at his guest’s feet. “And some boots. It looks like you kinda wore those out. You walked all the way here from where?”
Roland lifted one foot and glanced at the sole. “Yes, sir, I did. I couldn’t get a ride. It was a long trip from Montana.”
The pastor’s eyes widened. “Son, you must be tired. I know I am, just hearing that you walked all that distance. It’ll be about two hours before I return.”
Roland nodded and set his backpack on the floor beside the bed. And then, without warning, tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks. Pastor Eli wrapped him in his arms and let him release all his pent-up emotions.
When they pulled apart, Roland withdrew a hanky from his back pocket and ran it over his face.
“You want to talk?” The pastor gestured toward the sitting area.
He lowered onto one of two recliners. “You’re the only person I’ve met in the last two years who has treated me like a human. A person. A man. Your actions overwhelmed me, and I just—”
“Yep, it’s sad we don’t have more Christian brothers and sisters showing more love. I wasn’t always a pastor and didn’t choose this profession. I was chosen. And, yes, at one point, I went kicking and screaming. I wouldn’t have gotten here without Jesus. I was a mess with all my lying, cheating, and stealing, and I nearly went to jail. Glad I never indulged in those drugs. I needed money, so I broke into a house...” The pastor shook his head. “I don’t know what made me pick that rickety, old house, but I’m convinced I must’ve been led there. I found an old man waiting in a rocker with a shotgun resting across the chair’s arms when I entered. He didn’t aim the weapon at me but demanded I sit. You bet I complied. He talked for the next two hours and set me straight about what it meant to be a child of God, what was expected of me as His child, and how to live as a man, husband, and father. My dad died when I was ten, so he never had the chance to instill those values in me.” He shook his head again and shrugged one shoulder. “I ran wild, and Mom couldn’t control me, and she gave up after a while. I never blamed her because I was way too much to manage.”
The pastor held his gaze on Roland, who had sat silent while he shared his personal testimony. “I hope this conversation benefits you as that one did me six years ago. That old man set the gun aside, took me by the hand, and led me to Christ. I surrendered and started trusting Jesus with my destination. It wasn’t easy—not then and still isn’t now. When you follow Jesus, you sometimes struggle and doubt, but life will improve. Peace permeates your soul—you’ll be glad once you see it and feel it. We all have a standing invitation to a purpose and meaning, Roland. It’s ours for the asking. Surrender to His direction and trust Him with your destination. It’s well worth the fight you endure.” Pastor Eli chuckled. “I never knew the old guy’s name, but the city demolished the old house the next day.” He smiled. “He had to be an angel. Or....” He scratched behind his ear, pondering the ‘or.’
Roland ran the hanky over his face again. “Years ago, I asked the Lord into my heart and believed He is the Son of God. Afterward, things started happening beyond my control. I prayed but didn’t hear an answer or receive a solution. Then...Dad....” Roland paused.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, son, but He does want His children to be strong for His purpose, and sometimes we’ll have struggles that we just don’t understand. He is building a better man—a man who can serve Him for others. He has brought you through this last season in life with flying colors. You probably got scarred along the way—maybe more than once—but take heart, He has given you His bread of life to share with others.”
Roland sniffed and nodded. “Manna is what I call it.”
Eli slapped his back, stood, and headed for the door. He turned, smiled, and eased the door closed as he stepped outside.
Roland bowed his head. “Lord, is this where you want me? Give me the strength to face my brother. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”