Miracles (24 page)

May's face lit up. “Well, why don't you stay in my house?”

Bree caught her breath. “May, are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. There's my house, sitting there all empty. As long as I'm in the hospital, I need somebody to look after it.” She turned back to Sarah. “You might as well sleep there. I have a guest room, so you can even stay when I get home, and maybe you can give me a hand now and then.”

Sarah slowly sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it. You'd be helping me. I can't go home alone. I'll have to learn to walk again, and it's not gonna be easy. Sarah, do you drive?”

“Yes ma'am,” Sarah said, “but I don't have a car. It got repossessed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Well, maybe you could drive mine and get me to physical therapy every day. I mean, until you get a job.” May caught her breath as another thought occurred to her. “On second thought,
I
could give you a job. You can be my personal helper until I can get on my feet! What do you think of that?”

Sarah's eyes filled with tears as she looked from May to Bree, and back again. “I think that's the most amazing thing I've ever heard in my life. Talk about answered prayers.”

“Prayer works,” Bree whispered. She had tears in her own eyes as she leaned over and hugged May. “You don't know what this has meant to me.”

“To you?” May asked. “I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you. It means life to me.”

“Abundant life.” Bree's throat constricted, and she swallowed hard. “We told you, didn't we?”

Sarah laughed softly. “Man, you sure did.”

They heard footsteps running up the hall, then Carl squeaked around the doorway, his tennis shoes almost skidding across the floor.

“Bree, I thought I'd find you here.” He was so out of breath he could hardly speak. “I have to go. I have to go
now.”

Bree turned back to Sarah and May. “I need to go with him. I think there's somebody else who needs us.”

“Sure. Go,” May said. “You do what you gotta do.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said. “I'll just stay here and get to know May a little bit better.”

Bree grinned as she followed Carl out the door. Andy was just coming off of the stairwell when they walked out into the hall.

“Man, you're getting faster,” he said to Carl. Carl was already heading back down the stairs.

“You guys won't believe what just happened,” Bree said as she ran down the stairs. “I brought Sarah here to have lunch, and then we went up to see May, and the next thing I know, May's telling me how Dr. John Fryer has been ministering to her and taking care of her.”

“Really?” Andy mopped the sweat off of his face with his sleeve.

“Yeah, but get this: Sarah's sitting there telling May that she doesn't have a place to live, and the next thing you know, May is inviting her to come live with her! Then Sarah mentions that she doesn't have a job, and May hires her to be her assistant when she gets home.”

Carl looked back over his shoulder. “No way. Are you kidding me?”

“I'm not kidding. This is all working out, just like Jim said. Our fruit is bearing fruit. Can you imagine?”

“Did you see what happened at church today?” Carl turned a corner. “I've never seen anything like that in my life. Every one of the people we brought got ministered to. Some of them even went home with church members. I noticed that Dr. John went home with Greg Browning.”

Bree gasped. She knew that Greg Browning had almost drunk himself to death years ago, but he hadn't had a drink in over seven years. “That's great! He's just the one I wanted to introduce Dr. John to.”

Carl nodded. “If anybody can help John, it's him.”

“That's nothing,” Andy said. “I saw Sam Jones—the man whose wife lost their baby—going home with Dennis Simmons and his wife. They lost their baby last year.”

“Oh, that's perfect!” Bree punched at the air. “The Simmonses will be able to help so much with that family.”

“I think so.” Carl breathed as hard as Bree and Andy, but his feet seemed to move faster and faster.

“Carl, can you slow down just a little?”

“I don't think so,” Carl said, so Bree broke into a trot. She should have changed her shoes after church, she thought. Carl finally took them into a pretty, middle-class neighborhood with well-groomed lawns and houses that were only a year or two old. Bree frowned. From her lower middle-class home with her mother, she had often wondered if people who lived in houses like these really ever had any problems. And yet, here they were, beating the pavement, a holy task force headed to rescue another soul. They rounded a corner, and a house came into view with cars parked along the street and filling the driveway. People came and went with covered dishes in their hands.

“Looks like somebody is having a party,” Andy said.

Carl turned up the sidewalk. “That's where we're going. Right there. That's the house.”

“No.” Bree grabbed him by the shirt and tried to stop him. “Carl, we can't go in there. Look at them. They're having a party. How would we know which person needs us?”

“I don't know, but this is where God is telling me to go. And trust me. It's very urgent.”

Bree groaned and looked at Andy.

“We might as well follow him,” Andy said. “He hasn't led us wrong yet.”

So they trudged up the sidewalk toward the front door. And just as they reached the front steps, a woman came out. She was wearing a black dress and had tears on her face.

Bree stopped. “Hello.”

The woman covered her mouth. “It's terrible, isn't it? A real tragedy.” Then she headed out to her car.

Looking back at the woman, Carl stopped at the front door, his chest heaving. “Did you see anything when you looked at her, Bree?”

“No,” Bree said, “but I'm getting a feeling that maybe this isn't a party, after all.”

“Funeral.” Andy watched the woman's car drive away. “It's a funeral.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, look what everybody's wearing.” He nodded to a group who had come out the side door. “Mostly black.”

Bree saw it now. “Oh, they sure are. You think it's for someone who died in the earthquake?”

“Maybe,” Carl said. “It could be ours, if God hadn't rescued us.”

Bree's throat constricted. She thought of her mother grieving, her children clutched together, mourning over their lost mother.

Why had she been spared, and someone in this house had not? She forced herself to step up to the door, but Carl stopped her.

“Wait. I thought this was it, but it isn't.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I didn't know what to say—”

“I mean, it's the house all right, but not inside.” He led them down the porch steps and started around the back of the brick house.

“Carl, where are you going? You can't just walk into people's backyards. We're trespassing.” But Carl wasn't listening. Reluctantly, Bree followed him around the house. Andy came too.

The gate of the back fence was open, and Carl led them into the yard. It was prettier than the front yard. Someone had clearly tended it with great love. Two children sat on swings, twisting slowly, making circles in the dirt at their feet, staring at their shoes. Bree had the sudden overwhelming feeling that they were the bereaved. They looked up when the trio came into the yard.

“Hello,” Andy said.

“Hey.” The little boy looked up, and the look on his face said he was soul-weary of meeting new people. “Food goes inside.”

“Uh . . . we don't have food.”

“Not them,” Carl whispered. “Right back here.”

He headed toward a garden with tall hedges at the back of the yard. Over the tops of the hedges, Bree saw a gazebo. Carl took them straight toward it. They stepped around the hedges and into a garden. A man sat alone in the gazebo, his eyes toward the back of the yard.

Carl slowed his steps, but kept heading toward the man. Bree knew what was wrong before she ever looked into his eyes. He was the widower. His wife, the mother of his children, was dead.

The man heard them coming and slowly turned around.

Flash.

She saw him running through the hospital, searching each face and each bed for his wife, screaming out her name, asking if anyone had seen her.

Flash.

She had died in the earthquake, just as they thought. She had been buried in a building just like Bree had. Tears filled her eyes, but she managed to speak.

“Sir, I'm so sorry about your wife.”

He looked up at her. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I'm Bree Harris, and this is Andy Hendrix and Carl Dennis. We were all buried in rubble when our building collapsed—” She started to cry and couldn't go on.

He rubbed his eyes. “My wife was pulled out two days ago. She was probably dead the moment the quake happened. Her skull was crushed. She never even knew what hit her.” He wiped his eyes and got to his feet. “I'm Lawrence Grisham. How do you know about my wife?”

Andy introduced them. “You're going to think this is weird, but the Lord led us here today. He thought you needed help.”

“I do.” The man broke down. “I can't do this. I've never been the one people stared at and felt sorry for at a funeral. My poor kids. Those people in my house—I don't know them. They were my wife's friends from church. But I never went with her. Oh, no, I was too busy, too preoccupied. I had better things to do.” The words rang with self-hatred.

“And now all these people are here bringing dishes and food and hugs for her parents who are in the house organizing everything. I don't want to talk to those people. All I want is to turn back time just a little bit so I can tell her how much I love her, start going to church with her. That's all she ever really wanted from me, to be a churchgoing man. But that wasn't what I was, and I wasn't about to change.” His face twisted in despair. “What a disappointment I must have been to her.”

“You could change now,” Andy said. “It's not too late.”

“It
is
too late.” The man rubbed his hand across his mouth. “She's
gone
.”

“But the children aren't gone.” Andy touched his shoulder and gazed in his eyes. “You've still got them. And all the prayers your wife prayed for you have yet to be answered. Do you believe that your wife is in heaven?”

“Absolutely. She's been in love with Jesus ever since I've known her. I fooled her into thinking I was like her before we got married, then slowly but surely I pulled the rug out from under her and showed my true colors. I don't know why she even stayed with me.”

“Well, don't you want to see her again?”

“Of course I do, but how can I? I'm not going where she's going. If there's a God, He's probably disgusted with me. In fact, isn't there some Scripture that says He wants to vomit you out of His mouth?”

Andy shook his head. “When He said that, He was talking to Christians who were neither hot nor cold. The truth is, Christ came to save that which was lost, and that's why we're here. We're sort of the same way, seeking and saving that which is lost. And for some reason, God led us to your house today. We didn't know you from Adam, didn't know why people were milling around here, but we saw that there was a need. And the Lord just kind of led us around to the backyard here where we could find you and tell you that He loves you. He hasn't given up on you, Lawrence. You can see your wife again one day, and so can your children, if you can just believe what she believed.”

Grisham got up, walked around the gazebo, and turned back toward the house. “I'm a builder, you know. I built half the houses in this neighborhood. I took a lot of pride in my work. I thought I was a great provider for my family. I thought I gave them everything they needed . . . but now I find out just how useless I was.”

“Sir, how can you say that? You built a beautiful home here.”

“And now my wife is gone! I'm stuck here raising the children, and I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever been alone with them a day in my life. I love them; don't get me wrong. I just don't know what to do. My wife did it all, and it only now occurs to me how much I needed her. She was everything.”

He broke down and slumped down on the bench, dropping his face into his hands. “If only I could be more like her, if I could think the things she thought, feel the feelings she felt. If I could be the kind of person she was, maybe I could raise these kids and do what I need to do by them. But that would be too much of a miracle.”

Andy sat beside him. “God's in the business of miracles. Don't you understand that?”

“Then why didn't He save her?”

Bree looked at Andy, wondering how in the world he'd find the wisdom to answer that question.

But Andy wasn't daunted. “He did save her. She was taken to heaven. She's in a safe place. But God's not finished with you, Lawrence. The Lord loves you, and He has you on His mind. He's working in your life whether you can see Him or not.”

The man sat there a moment, studying his hands, his forehead pleated as he tried to work it all out. Andy had the grace to let quiet settle over them.

Finally the man got to his feet again and slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you guys have a church, or what?”

“Yes, sir,” Bree said, “we do. We go to the same church. It's Brotherhood Community Church over on Chapel Road.”

“Well, maybe I need to visit it. I think it would be too painful for my kids to go back to their church, to sit there without their mother. Maybe we need some place new.”

“I can understand that,” Andy said, “but we're not here to rob churches of their members. We just want to help you.”