Miracles (9 page)

“Where you going, man? You just got here.”

“I've got a headache, and I—”

The words were like a voice-over, blocking out what Jeff was really saying. “What's the matter with me? Why can't I bear fruit?”

Sam met Jeff 's eyes and wanted to answer the question, but he couldn't think. Sudden panic came over him—what would his friend think of his hearing voices? Grabbing Kate's hand, he almost knocked someone down trying to get out of the row, then they walked down the stadium bleachers until they were in the corridor where the concession stands were. There weren't many people there since the game had just begun, so he found a vacant area and hurried to it and leaned back against the wall. Kate was beside him in an instant.

“Sam, something's wrong with you. You're sweating, and you're breathing like you've run a marathon! Are you having a heart attack?”

“No,” he said. “It's the voices I told you about. I can hear them everywhere. It's torture.”

She stared at him for a moment. Her eyes filled with tears. She covered her mouth with both hands and turned away from him.

He pushed off from the wall and turned her around. “Kate, what's the matter? Why are you crying?”

“Because I don't want you to be crazy,” she said in a high-pitched voice.

“I'm not crazy,” he said. “Didn't I tell you what you were thinking before?”

“Yes, but . . . this is too weird, Sam. I don't know if I can handle this.”

“That's just what I thought. But then I used it, and . . . I can do it again. You'll see. The people out there, they're hurting.”

As if his words were further proof that he was nuts, she shook her head. “Those people are cheering at a ball game. Half of them are drunk. They're
not
hurting.”

“They
are
hurting,” he said. “I heard their pain. I have answers I can give them.”

“All right,” she said, trying to calm down. She wiped her eyes. “What are we gonna do? Pull them away from the game one by one and tell them what their deepest need is?”

“I don't know,” he said. He looked at the few people milling around near the concession stand. “All I know is I'm not gonna accomplish anything standing here.” He stepped toward the concession stand, and she followed tentatively. A couple of people were ordering popcorn and hot dogs.

Kate watched him with dread, but he knew her concern had more to do with his health and his mental state than it did with his spiritual gift. She still didn't get it.

“What am I gonna tell my wife?” The voice came from a big man standing close to him. He was munching on popcorn as he waited for his drink order to be filled. “She'll leave me. I'll be alone. I don't know how to fix things.”

The words were so personal, so haunting, Sam wished he could just pass out right there on the floor and forget he'd ever heard any of them, but he forced himself to step forward. “Excuse me, but . . . well . . . I have a sense . . . that there's something going on in your life.”

The man shot him an annoyed look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean with your wife. You're wondering what you're going to tell her about something, and you're afraid she's going to leave you.”

The man caught his breath and took a step back. Kate caught Sam's arm and squeezed, as if to tell him to cool it, that he was about to get decked. “Are you a detective?” the man asked. “Did she hire you?”

The question startled him. “No, nothing like that.”

“Because if she did, you can tell her that she's wasting her time. She's not gonna catch me at anything. You got that?”

“Man, this isn't about catching you at something,” Sam said. “I don't know what you're involved in. I don't know what's going on with your family. All I know is that you don't have to sit here and wonder what it's going to feel like to be alone.”

The man's face twisted. The concession worker brought his drink, but the man didn't see him. “That'll be six bucks,” he said, holding out his hand. The patron ignored him and kept staring at Sam.

“Turn it over to God,” Sam said. “Believe in him and he'll . . . uh . . . he'll direct your paths.” Sam vowed to brush up on his Bible as soon as he had the chance.

Finally, the man realized that the concession attendant was waiting for his money, and he reached into his pocket, got out six dollars, and slapped it on the table. Before getting his stuff, he turned his worried eyes back to Sam. “What has she seen? Have you been following me? Have you got pictures?”

Sam glanced at Kate. Her grip on his arm tightened. “No, nothing like that. I don't even know who you are.”

The man gathered his food and turned away. “Look, I've got a game to watch.”

“Sure,” Sam said, “you go ahead. But remember what I said.”

The man started walking faster and faster, until he disappeared around a corner.

Kate caught her breath. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I heard him,” Sam said. “He said, ‘What am I gonna tell my wife?' That she was gonna leave him and he would be left alone. That's his spiritual need right now. I was trying to address it.”

“Well, that was pretty good,” Kate said. “Only next time, you might want to pick a guy who isn't built like RoboCop. He could have smashed your face in.” She let go of his arm and stared up at him. “I'm sorry, honey, but this is a little strange. People aren't going to accept having you just walk up to them out of the blue like that.”

“But I was right. Didn't you see the look on his face?”

“Yes! That's why it was so weird.” She lowered her voice as someone walked by. “Sam, do you really think God gave you this?”

“Where else would I get it? I'm not psychic. I'm telling you, this is real, and it works. Just watch. You can help me,” he said. “You and I can both approach people, and you can soften what I say so I won't intimidate them.”

She looked as if she was about to cry again. “Sam, you know I want to. But I don't think I can just walk up to someone and start talking like that.”

“My emptiness is soul deep,” he heard a voice behind him say.

Sam swung around and saw another guy at the concession stand, lurking in front of the candy window, as if that could fill him up.

“If I could turn inside out, I'd just disappear.”

Sam's face twisted, and Kate stepped closer. “Did you hear something again?” she whispered.

“Yeah. That guy over there. He said his emptiness is soul deep.”

She looked at him, her eyes softening. “That's sad.”

“You got that right. Stay here. I'm gonna go talk to him.”

Reluctantly, Kate turned to the counter as if trying to decide what to order. Sam got behind the man in the line. “How ya doing?” he asked. He reached out to shake his hand. “My name's Sam. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“About what?” the guy asked.

“About your soul.”

“Oh, brother.” The guy rolled his eyes and waved him off as he started to walk away.

“The void is so big that if you turned inside out you'd disappear,” Sam blurted.

The man stopped cold and turned slowly around. His mouth fell open, and he tipped his head suspiciously. “Who are you?”

Sam's heart raced. “I'm a friend,” he said. “Someone, I think, the Lord sent to talk to you about that void.”

The man behind the concession stand leaned over, trying to get the man's attention. “Excuse me. May I help you?”

The man glanced back. “Uh . . . no.” He looked back at Sam, surprise in his eyes. “Where do you want to talk?” he asked.

“We could just step right over here,” Sam said. “It's as good a place as any.”

The man nodded and followed. Kate stayed back, across the corridor, watching with amazement on her face.

The first quarter of the game had almost ended by the time Sam led the man in prayer. He met Kate's eyes and saw that she was crying again. This time she wasn't looking at him as if he was some kind of mental case. She was obviously awestruck.

And so was Sam. The man had been hurting, and he needed to hear what Sam could tell him. He saw Sam as an instrument of divine intervention, and God was answering a prayer that he hadn't even realized he'd uttered.

The two exchanged business cards so Sam could check on him later, and as the man went back to his seat, Kate came over and reached up to hug him. “That was the most awesome thing I've ever seen.”

Sam felt like he was light enough to lift off into the air. “It was pretty awesome, wasn't it? Man, if I'd known it felt this great to introduce somebody to Jesus, I'd have been doing it all along.”

“There you are!” someone called.

Sam looked up and saw Jeff coming up the corridor. “Man, we were wondering what happened to you. The first quarter is over. Pratt just scored a touchdown. It was beautiful. You should have seen it.”

“I just scored one of my own,” Sam said.

Jeff frowned and looked down at Kate, then stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I was just standing out here, and there was this guy here, and I started talking to him about Christ, and, Jeff . . . you're not gonna believe this, but the guy accepted him. I prayed with him and everything.”

Jeff frowned. “You're kidding me.”

“No, I'm not kidding. It happened. Kate saw the whole thing.”

Jeff looked down at Kate, then back at Sam. “Man, John's sermon Sunday must have really gotten to you.”

He wanted to say that it had gone right in one clogged-up ear and out the other until the Lord himself had spoken, but he just grinned. “You should try it,” he said. “Everywhere you look there are people who need Christ. There are so many of them.”

“Man, if I did that, atheism would probably soar to all-time highs.” He leaned over the concession stand and ordered a drink.

Sam remembered what he'd heard from Jeff in the stands. “You think you can't be used.”

Jeff turned back. “Well . . . yeah, I guess so. I mean, I've got a lot of stuff in my past. Even since I became a Christian, there are a few things that would mess up my credibility.”

“What's that Jesus said? ‘If thy right eye offends thee, cut it out?'”

Jeff grinned. “I've never heard you quote Scripture before.”

Sam shrugged. “Man, I've been quoting Scripture all day. Most of it wrong, probably, but at least I'm trying. Did I get that one right?”

“Sounds right.”

“All I know is that there aren't enough people out there who know about Jesus. Think how it would change their lives if they knew!”

Jeff was beginning to look uncomfortable. “I wouldn't even know where to begin.”

“Just come with me,” Sam said. “Hang around here for a minute. You'll see what Kate saw. It's awesome. I'll approach somebody and we can just start talking and . . .”

“Man,” Jeff cut in, “I didn't pay forty bucks for this ticket so I could spend the game back here.”

Sam tried to hide his disappointment. “Okay, that's fine. We can try it later.”

“Fine,” Jeff said. He looked irritated as he paid for his drink, then turned back to Sam. “Are you coming back?”

“I don't know,” Sam said. “It's a little noisy, and my ears are feeling kind of sensitive.”

Jeff shot Kate a look. “Is he sick?”

“I don't think so, Jeff.”

He took a sip of his drink and headed back up the stairs. Kate looked up at Sam. “You know, maybe he's not really a Christian. Maybe he just knows
about
Jesus. Maybe he doesn't realize it isn't the same thing as knowing him.”

Sam shook his head. “No, I heard his need—it was about bearing fruit. He wouldn't have a need like that if he wasn't a Christian. He just doesn't begin to know how to be used.”

“Neither do I.”

Sam looked down at her. “Just tell them what Jesus did for you. That's what John told me this morning. That's all it takes. It's not complicated.”

“But I can't hear their needs,” she said. “I don't have the edge you have.”

“Yes, you do. I can tell you what I hear.”

A woman walked up to get a straw, and his words trailed off as he heard her voice. “I can't trust anyone. No one can be counted on. I need someone to tell me what to do, but there isn't anyone.”

“Talk to her,” Sam said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Go up to her and start a conversation.”

Kate looked terrified. “I wouldn't know what to say. What did you hear?”

“She can't trust anyone; she needs someone to tell her what to do. Go on, Kate, talk to her.”

“But Sam . . .”

“Kate, God is giving you an opportunity. You're not going to blow it, are you?”

“That's not fair,” she said. “He gave you the opportunity, not me.”

He shook his head. “No, I'm gonna go over there and talk to that guy in a minute. And if you can talk to her and I can talk to him, in a very short time, we might just lead two people to Christ.”

Kate looked over at the woman. She was gathering her food on a tray and was turning to leave. “I can't do it!” she whispered.

Sam looked down at her. “You can honestly know what she's feeling inside, that she's hurting, and not do anything about it? You're a nurse. If she were to drop from a heart attack, you'd bolt forward and do CPR. What is the difference?”

Kate watched as the woman walked over to the other counter to get ketchup. She shot Sam a look, took a deep breath, and moved toward her. “Excuse me!”

The woman turned around.

“Uh . . .” Kate had an expression on her face that said her mind had gone blank and she couldn't think of another word. “You . . . you look like you have your hands full. I'd be glad to help if I could.”