thirty

The telling-hour drew near. How would his family and Sara react to his project? Forrest wondered. It wouldn’t make Sara love him, he knew that, and he wouldn’t want it to. His mother would be tolerant no matter what. He wanted his dad to approve the way he knew his granddad would have.

Forrest waited another two weeks. The outside walls of the log structures were finished, and the roofs were on. Now the workers could do the inside work, come hail or high water.

He knew God’s approval was most important. But he did have that dual nature, so common to mankind. While he knew he could live without it, he wanted the approval of his loved ones.

Forrest rode Skeptical Lady up to the big house and called his parents and Sara together.

“Get your hiking boots on,” he said. “Let’s walk down to the back forty.”

❧

Sara thought the air literally crackled with anticipation. She loved hiking but thought going all the way to the lake might be quite a stretch for Vivian and Royce. Vivian was active and Royce a golfer, but a rutted, pothole-strewn road could be a challenge for anyone.

As soon as they started down the dirt road, Forrest began talking.

“I’ll try and be brief,” he said. “During my college days I knew I had the opportunity to do or be just about anything I wanted. For awhile that was a source of pride. But nothing really appealed to me. That’s when I went to Guatemala and worked on construction for two years. Just to do something different. It so happened that my boss was a witnessing Christian. Although you two,” he said, looking from his mom to his dad, “gave me the background, Tom got through to me. Or I should say, the Lord got through to me. In trying to find myself, I lost myself, and the Lord got hold of me.”

Sara listened with rapt attention as Forrest gave his testimony. He had his parents’ attention too. Forrest told about the joy he experienced when he felt the call to reach out to others. He thought how great it would be to go to places like Afghanistan, Indonesia, Bolivia, or any other developing country. He might even remain in Guatemala.

“When I returned, I talked to our pastor in Texas,” Forrest said, “and he told me this story.”

Forrest went on to explain how the pastor had recounted the experience of a young man sitting next to Dwight L. Moody on a train. The young man had been all excited about wanting to go to Africa on a mission trip. He wanted to be a missionary and win African souls to the Lord.

Moody listened to the excited young man. Finally, he asked, “Have you won anyone around you to the Lord? Right here where you live?”

The young man became thoughtful. “No, Sir.”

Moody said, “Then you’re not a soul winner. You’ll go to Africa and be nothing more than a sightseer. To win souls there, you have to start with those around you, where you are.”

Forrest then admitted, “Those words had a big impact on me too. I knew that if I went to developing countries, I would encounter deprivation and other hardships. But there’s a kind of glamour to that. I think I entertained the idea for the right reasons, but there’s the human aspect too. I felt good just thinking about it. But thinking about witnessing to those around me didn’t look as appealing.”

When Forrest paused, Royce nodded and said, “Go on.”

By that time, Royce was walking beside Forrest. Vivian and Sara followed right behind.

Forrest took a deep breath. “For a long time I remembered sitting alone in a little village in a poor section of Guatemala. My heart broke for the little children. I wanted to reach out to them. Each time I thought of going back, a thought would come.” He laughed ironically. “Or else God whispered, rather loudly, ‘Witness at home.’ ”

Forrest recounted how he’d thought of trying to join a mission organization that went into devastated countries. He’d learn the language. He’d learn the culture. He’d reach out to the people. Let them know there was hope, if not in material ways, then in ways that counted eternally—like Nana had.

“But each time, the Lord said, ‘Witness at home.’ ”

Sara saw the pride and affection in Royce’s eyes as he looked at Forrest. Vivian’s glance at Sara was filled with excitement.

“Finally,” Forrest said, “I quit telling God what I could do for Him. I decided to listen, and He told me. I asked how, and He gave me a verse of Scripture.” Forrest looked toward the tall trees shading the road, then quoted 2 Corinthians 8:12 (nlt). “If you are really eager to give, it isn’t important how much you are able to give. God wants you to give what you have, not what you don’t have.”

After a pause, Forrest asked, “What did I have?” He answered the question himself. “I had several years experience of working at camps during the summers. I’ve educated myself in camps throughout the world. Then I remembered I had an inheritance. So I asked for it. In the meantime, I began witnessing to those around me.”

Sara stared at the back of his head. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

He glanced back at her, as if giving her the explanation. “I volunteered to be a big brother to some of the guys at the halfway house.”

Vivian said, “Yes, we know about that.”

“Sara doesn’t,” he said.

He told about witnessing to them and of how he had taken on Hal and Skip as his personal project. He picked them up from the halfway house and returned them by suppertime or, when given special permission, before dark. He sometimes played the guitar and sang at their Sunday morning worship services.

Forrest stopped and turned to face them.

“I want to apologize to each of you,” he said. “I realize I’ve demanded you trust me, respect me, and consider me upright, without letting you know what’s in my heart and life.”

Royce reached out and touched his arm. “No, Forrest. I don’t think you had to tell us everything you were doing.”

“I agree with that,” Forrest said. “But I should be as verbal with my family about my faith as I am to acquaintances and strangers.”

“That’s harder,” Royce said.

Forrest released a deep breath. “Don’t I know it!” He gave a laugh that sounded as nervous as Sara felt.