week 7

Scripture Reading:

LUKE 15:11–32

A Time to Go Home

“I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

JEREMIAH 29:11

BRIAN T. NOBLE WAS THE SON of loving parents in New Orleans, Louisiana, but as a teenager, he grew restless to experience the wilder side of life. Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, he decided to drop out of school.

“Brian, I absolutely will not hear of it.” His mother shook her head, clearly disgusted by the idea.

“But Mom, I wanna be a prizefighter!”

“A fighter?” She raised her hand in his direction. “No son of mine is going to leave school for prizefighting. Besides, God has a good future for you. Good plans and a good life. Don’t throw it all away.”

But Brian’s frustrations grew, and he put into action a plan to run away from home after school was out for the summer. He was an intelligent young man, tall and athletic, with a strong sense of survival. He discovered that by watching the railroad cars, he could determine approximately where they were headed. He recognized the dangers of jumping onto a moving train but wasn’t afraid. If his timing was right, he believed he could safely jump aboard a slow-moving cargo car.

Summoning his courage, Brian studied a train that appeared to be heading north. Perfect. He made his move, knowing that if he missed, he could fall under the wheels and be crushed to death. Jumping at the right moment, he landed safely inside the boxcar.

He used this new mode of transportation several times over the next few days until he reached a small Kansas town. There he saw what appeared to be a traveling circus. Hungry and out of money, Brian was hired to help set up and tear down the various rides. But his eyes lit up when he spotted a sign: “Fighters needed—go three rounds with a paying customer.” The pay was more than Brian would make in a week.

Having found a place to stay and a way to make money, he sent a letter to his parents the next morning.

In New Orleans, Brian’s parents had been worried sick. They prayed constantly, begging God to give them a sign that their son was all right. They opened his letter together, tears gathering for both of them.

They read the words, “Dear Mom and Dad… I’m sorry for leaving without saying good-bye, but I knew you wouldn’t let me go. I can’t tell you where I am, but I’m safe… and I might do some prizefighting.”

Over the next eight months, Brian traveled with the circus to dozens of towns and participated in the pit fights, in which two men went into a sunken pit and fought until one man dropped. Brian never lost a fight. He wrote his parents assuring them that he was living his dream and not to worry.

Meanwhile, Brian’s parents could do nothing but worry about him. He was a drifter and a fighter. They prayed daily for God to keep him safe and bring him home soon.

In the cold of February, the crowds dwindled and his circus folded. Hearing that the nearest traveling circus was about twenty miles south, he knew just the train to take him there. But as he hid under the station’s loading dock, waiting for the perfect moment to hop onboard, he noticed that two locomotives were being hooked to the train. That meant the train would pick up a great deal of speed quickly. It might even be traveling close to full speed as it left the station. That’s okay, he told himself. He’d jumped fast trains before. He could do it again.

When the train moved, Brian ran toward a boxcar. But suddenly the ground beneath him narrowed, and he found himself sprinting alongside a steep ravine. He glanced ahead and saw that the tracks became a bridge. He had just one chance. If he missed, he would fall into a canyon to certain death.

Brian jumped. At first he grabbed hold of the boxcar floor, but the train picked up speed and he lost his grip. He started sliding out of the boxcar, gripping the edge with his fingertips. His body dangled dangerously over the edge and inch by inch his fingers slipped.

“No!” he shouted. “Please, God! Don’t let me die!”

Suddenly, a tall black man appeared in what Brian had thought was the empty boxcar. The man stared at him intently. “It’s time to go home, Brian.” Then he reached down, grabbed Brian’s hands, and pulled him into the speeding boxcar. Brian’s sides heaved as he lay facedown on the floor to catch his breath.

He closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer, still stunned that he was alive. Then he lifted his head to thank the man, but the boxcar was empty. He glanced outside and shuddered. There was no way the man could have jumped from the train and survived. He had simply disappeared.

Brian knew with great certainty that whoever the man was, his message had been right on. He stayed on the train until it reached New Orleans and returned home. After a tearful reunion, he told his parents about the man in the boxcar.

“An angel, son,” his father said. “God is watching out for you. See, he brought you home to us.”

Brian returned to school and a few months later was baptized. After graduating, he served in World War II with the Navy, taking part in twenty-eight combat missions in the South Pacific. After the war he returned to New Orleans, where he became a minister of one of the largest congregations in the city.

“God used that angel to not only save my life but to change it into something that would glorify him forever.”

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.

JEREMIAH 1:5