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To Wilson, the sky was the bluest it had ever been. He kept glancing up at it while driving to the lake. Birds chirping fluttered through the early morning air. Although it was summer, there was still a chilly breeze in the air.
He grabbed a cup of coffee and walked out of his house. He got into his rental car and left with a clear destination in mind. Wilson pulled the vehicle to the parkway surrounding the lake.
“God, if you are real...” He shook his head. He knew better than to begin with that one.
Wilson switched off the ignition, opened the door, and climbed out. He walked down to the wooden pier which led almost a quarter mile away from the lake and sat down. He took off his shoes, socks and boots then rolled up the legs of his jeans. He sat down on the dock, dipping his feet into the water up to his calves.
“Lord, I’ve seen You work in the lives of others.” He wasn’t sure if this was even the right way to approach God. He stared at the water, watching the waves gently crashing against the dock. It was quiet. Wilson had never felt this empty.
He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, while searching for the right words. It had been a long time since he’d consider having a conversation with God. And here he was surrounded by peace and tranquility and time.
Wilson knew the exact moment he stopped believing in God. He knew the exact moment when he chose to believe in Him again.
Wilson took this time to take stock of his life. It wasn’t all bad. He had the career of his dreams and the love and respect of his family and friends.
On the outside, things looked great, but internally he was spiritually broken. He’d spent too much time listening to the devil’s lies every single time tragedy struck his life.
But no more.
Wilson opened his mouth and whispered, “Lord, please forgive me.”
He felt the water swirling around his legs. “I don’t have a right to ask, but I know that I can’t do this alone. I need your help.”
Wilson’s hands rose above his head. His face was warm with his tears. “Lord, come into my life.”
In his heart, he heard a voice speaking to him from Acts 16:31. “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.”
Wilson confessed, “Lord, I believe.”
He sat there, allowing the soothing balm of the Holy Spirit to blanket his soul. For the first time in his life, Wilson felt complete and utterly full.
He swung his legs back and forth in the water as the Holy Spirit ministered to him. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Wilson sat there pouring out the contents of his heart to God.
~~~~~
Wilson rubbed his hand down his face, his fingers touched his recently grown beard. The early morning sun reminded him of God’s grace and mercy.
It streamed in his eyes, but not enough to make him pull out his shades or pull down his visor. The warmth radiating from the sun reminded Wilson of the love he felt in his soul from the Father.
He drove past the old Big V grocery store, an old and now vacant gas station until he came upon a long stretch of highway. He followed the newly tarred road until it turned off onto what appeared to be a recently paved driveway. The last time he came out here, it was an old gravel road.
The small rocks bounded off his tires making small pinging sounds.
Wilson parked the rental in front of the large brick craftsman-styled home belonging to an old college friend, Pastor Travis McClendon. Wilson got out of the car surveying his surroundings. The rolling acres were immaculate. He wondered if Travis paid someone to cut it or if he actually maintained his land himself.
Wilson heard the screen door creak open and he looked up.
For the last two years in a row, Travis was listed as one of the best pastors under the age of forty. Travis was a retired NFL lineman. At one point, he was one of the highest paid in the league, but he decided to walk away—he left it all... to follow Christ.
Travis was the one person in Wilson’s life that he could confide in without being called crazy. He took three long steps across the porch. “Good to see you, man.”
Travis grinned as he reached out his hand to give Wilson dap.
“I met an old friend of yours today?” Wilson said before breaking into a smile.
Travis took a step back and looked at him.
Wilson felt like his friend could see right through him.
Grinning, Travis said, “A friend indeed. Yep, I can see Him all over you.” He pulled Wilson into a tight embrace. “Welcome home, my brother. Welcome home.” He released him, but not before uttering, “Thank you, Lord.”
Travis held the screen door open. “C’mon in.”
Wilson was amazed by the renovations. “Wow man, did you put hardwood floors throughout?” His deep voice vibrated throughout the large room.
Travis turned his large frame towards Wilson. “Yeah man. You know how I do.” He pointed toward several huge pieces of plastic, “I’m still working on it.”
Wilson followed him down a long hall and into an expansive open kitchen. The first thing that captured his attention was the white baker’s island with a butcher’s block for the countertop. The appliances were stainless steel. The white cabinetry was exquisite. Wilson, a budding woodsman, was completely drawn to them and before he knew it, had one open and was stroking it with his hand. “Handmade huh?”
“This is my sanctuary. Outside of the church and ministry obligations, my plan is to come here.” Travis pointed to the huge double-door refrigerator. “I have several sports drinks, water or juice?”
“A sports drink will be fine.”
Travis led him over to a set of tall barstools and took a seat. “This is like Deja vu?”
Wilson snorted, “Yeah, I bet He told you I was coming.”
This was one of the things Wilson highly respected about Travis. There were no mysteries or spookiness. He didn’t make a production out of saying whatever God told him like they did at his mother’s church. Travis was always calm, cool, and laid back.
“I should probably tell you a few nights ago, God showed me this very moment.” Travis sat down on the bar stool. “He allowed me to see you struggling. You were in the blackest of oceans. The waves were tortuous. There were periodic breaks in the waves—just enough to keep you from drowning.”
Cold bumps branched out on Wilson’s back, legs and arms. He ran his hands down his arms to wipe them away. Beads of sweat lined his brow. How did Pastor Travis know he’d felt like he was drowning? Wilson kept his expression blank.
“Wilson, you’re fighting a battle impossible for you to win alone. The abyss has been calling to you for so long, it’s been your home. But no more. Do you not know Christ came that you might have life and have it more abundantly? You no longer have to walk in the shadows.” Travis pointed a finger at Wilson. “The enemy has seen the call of God on your life since you were born. The Lord told me to tell you that He’ll fight the battle and will empower you to walk in victory.”
Wilson took a sip of his drink before answering, “I need to let some things go.” He went quiet for a moment. “But I don’t know how.”
“Yes, Man of God. You do.” Travis put on a pot of coffee before changing the subject. “Shayla is a member of my congregation.” He hesitated before he spoke again. “About two years ago, after an unusually long prayer line, I saw her huddled in the back row. Her eyes were wide with fear, her clothes were wrinkled, and she appeared disheveled. Travis shook his head at the memory. “This particular night God was using me in a different manner. I locked eyes with her and I knew God had orchestrated the entire evening for her. I moved to her row. She stood up as if she knew that God had sent me there for her. God allowed me to see through her. I saw what happened that day with Camryn. Wilson, it was an accident. The next thing I knew, Shayla’s hands were raised in the air. One of my hands was on her head, the other on her stomach and God spoke a life-changing Word to her that day. Wilson, one of your first steps must be forgiveness. Shayla deserves grace—the very same grace which has been extended unto you.”
Wilson stood up and stretched his legs. “It’s funny you mention her and forgiveness in the same breath. She stopped by my house the other day. I told her all was forgiven, but it wasn’t until today that I actually felt the forgiveness.”
“One last thing my brother,” Travis said as he stepped to Wilson and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Anger is a loss of control.” He stared at him, “Old friend, you’re out of control. God didn’t allow me to see everything, but He showed me enough.” His grip tightened. “The death of your father was never intended to cause you anger. Death does not have the power to separate us from God and His love. Your anguish will never be too big for God to handle. Had you simply talked to him, God would’ve given you a garment of praise for your spirit of heaviness.” Travis paused a heartbeat before continuing. “Finding your sister hinges on reconciliation, only God and His methods can help you find her.”
Wilson fell to his knees and once again began to praise God.