Chapter 62
Jonah leaned across the thin plastic railing that separated him from his mother. From a chair in the corner of the room, he’d been watching her sleep, but he’d gotten an overwhelming urge to be closer to her. He leaned and kissed her forehead.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t make time for you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Jonah felt a hot tear fall from his eyes and watched it splash on her arm. “You’ll get better. You have the best doctors in Atlanta, and they’ll take good care of you.”
His mother coughed and opened her eyes. “Son—”
“Don’t try to talk, Mama; just rest.” He wiped the moisture from under his eyes.
“No,” she stated, firmly. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
“What do you mean, waiting?”
“I thought about you all night, son. I thought about you when they strapped me down and put me in the ambulance.” She coughed again and Jonah reached for her water cup and held it for her. After a few sips, she shoved it away. She cleared her throat and reached up to feel the oxygen tube in her nose. “When am I going to be rid of this?”
Jonah sighed. “When you don’t need it anymore.”
“Humph,” she grunted. “As I was saying—”
“Mama, please don’t try to talk.”
Annoyance was etched deeply in her face, and she waved a hand. “I gots to talk, because I have something to say.” She paused for a moment and pushed the button on her bed to raise her head. When she was done, she locked her eyes with his. “I appreciate the fact that you think I have the best doctors in Atlanta. But I’m not counting on being healed by a doctor,” she said. “If’in I make it out of this horrible place alive, it’ll be because of Jesus.”
Jonah swallowed his protest.
“If I don’t make it out of here, I don’t want to die knowing you aren’t reconciled with the Lord.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“Then why you looking like you want to cry?”
“Because I don’t like to think of you in pain.”
“Son, pain is a part of life. I been trying to tell you that for years. Y’all can give me all the medication in this hospital, but the only thing that’s gonna make me feel better is knowing my only child was living in a right relationship with Jesus.”
Jonah felt uneasy. Jesus had been making him uneasy for weeks.
“You were saved as a child. Nothing can separate you from the Savior. Only you can do that.” She paused for a moment, catching her breath. “You’ve blamed God for things you don’t understand, and you cannot do that.”
“I’ve been thinking about the past. I realize I’ve made some mistakes.”
“But now it’s time to move past realizing mistakes and make the move to change your life.” She coughed weakly. “Get my Bible.”
He reached for the worn Bible she’d insisted he go to the house and pick up for her. He remembered his mother carrying it to church when he was a child. “I’m amazed it hasn’t fallen apart. It’s almost 40 years old.”
“The truth in it is older than that. Open it to the page with the bookmark.”
Jonah pulled the chair near the bed closer and opened to the book of Hebrews, chapter three as he was instructed.
“Read the part I marked.” She closed her eyes.
Jonah cleared his throat and looked at verses seven and eight. It’d been a long time since he’d read from the Bible. “Wherefore as the Holy Ghost saith, Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”
Instantly Faith’s words flooded to his mind. You have issues in your heart.
He chuckled uncomfortably. “So you and Faith are talking.”
His mother shook her head. “No, I didn’t talk to Faith. But we both been talking to our God. God has been trying to reach you, but you keep hardening your heart. You’ve got to reconcile to Christ.”
He could feel his eyes stinging. “I don’t know how. It’s been so long.”
“Just speak to Him, son. Tell Him you’re sorry. Tell Him you didn’t mean to fall away. Tell Him you love Him.”
Talk to Jesus. Was it really that simple? Would it change anything? Jonah thought.
His mother closed her eyes. She mumbled some words for a few seconds, and then fell asleep.
After a few minutes, Jonah stood and walked to the window that overlooked a park across the street. He squinted, not because he couldn’t see, but because he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A tent, set up with about fifty people sitting in folding chairs underneath. The banner hanging across the front had two phrases penned in red:
New Birth Reconciliation Ministry. Coming Home to Jesus.
A tent revival. Hadn’t he and his mother just talked about those times under the tent with Joshua?
God, what are you doing to me? He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he looked at his mother. First, I pray about Amadi, and he gets a heart. Faith has forgiven me. The harassment complaint is probably dropped, and now it looks like Mama is going to be okay.
Jonah clenched and unclenched his fist. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered.
Come home to Jesus.
The words tugged at his heart. No. This was stronger than a tug. They pulled at his heart.
Jonah returned his attention to the assembly outside. This time his focus was on the man behind the pulpit. He was speaking with such enthusiasm and energy that Jonah wished the windows would open just so he could hear what was being said.
He looked at his sleeping mother, and then at his watch. Faith would arrive in a few minutes. But the desire to revisit the familiar memory from his childhood got the best of him. He stepped into the hall and went to the bank of elevators. He didn’t know why, but his stomach was in knots. He felt anxious, afraid even, but he was compelled to move forward. Jonah had to hear what the young preacher with the microphone was saying, because according to the banner, he was inviting lost souls to come home.