The High Calling (32 page)

“Is it all right if I go along?”

“Of course, Brodie.” As they walked, she said, “You look—” She started to say “tired,” but that didn’t seem exactly right, although fatigue did show on him, as she had noticed it did on all the fighter pilots.

“I look what?”

“You look troubled.”

“I guess I am, Meredith.”

She said nothing as they continued walking, and finally she said, “Let’s sit down over there on that bench. The Thompsons aren’t expecting me for a while yet.”

“All right.”

“Would you like to talk about it? What’s troubling you, I mean?” she asked.

As a rule, Brodie Lee did not choose to talk about his troubles. He believed that a strong American man should be able to carry his own load. But Meredith had a way of getting him to talk, and almost without realizing it, he began to tell her how the death of Bernie Cox had practically destroyed
him. “He was a good friend, and I let him get killed. It was my fault.”

Meredith listened without saying anything. He spoke haltingly at first but then the words began to pour out of him, and it soon became evident that the loss of his friend was not his only problem.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Meredith.” Despair tinged Brodie’s voice, and he clasped his hands together tightly as if to keep them steady. “I was always a pretty happy-go-lucky guy, but lately it’s like I’ve got this big weight on my shoulders. I can’t shake it off, and it gets heavier every day. It makes it hard to do my work.” He turned to look at her, and she saw the bleak despair in his face. “I’m afraid I’m going to get somebody else hurt or hurt myself. I can’t fly carrying this weight.”

“Have you ever read
Pilgrim’s Progress?
”

“Read what?”

“
Pilgrim’s Progress.
A book by John Bunyon.”

“No, but I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s a wonderful story. You ought to read it. It’s about a man who is in exactly your condition. He has a huge load on his back, and he’s staggering under it and about to fall.”

“Well, that’s about the way I feel. What happened to him?”

“He struggled with the load and tried everything he could to get rid of it, but he finally got someone that told him to go on ahead to a certain gate. And he went, and he kept being guided, and suddenly he looked up and he saw a cross, and Jesus on the cross. And the moment that he looked, the load fell off his back and rolled away into a big hole in the ground that was the tomb of Jesus.”

Brodie sat very still. “I wish that could happen to me.”

Meredith knew that the time had come for her to speak plainly. “Brodie, it’s not very difficult to become a Christian. It can be very difficult to
be
the Christian that you become.”

“Kinda like gettin’ married, ain’t it?”

She looked at him and tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I reckon it’s pretty easy to get to be a husband. It takes about two minutes, doesn’t it, before a J.P. or a preacher? And then a fella has to learn how to act like a husband. Some fellas never do learn it, I reckon.”

“It is a bit like that, Brodie. Listen, I know something about what your burden is like. I had it before I became a Christian.”

“Well, it must have been easy for you. You didn’t have a big bunch of horrible stuff to get rid of like I do.”

“It wasn’t easy at all because I was proud. I didn’t want to ask God for anything, so I stumbled along, and the load got bigger and bigger. I couldn’t sleep. I even cried at night sometimes, and then one day I was out in the flower garden picking flowers to dry. I’d just picked a large yellow-and-white daisy, and I was admiring it. And suddenly as I stood there I remembered a verse my mother had embroidered onto a pillow. It said, ‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.’”

Brodie turned to look into her eyes and saw the tears there. “And that was it?”

“I gave up everything I could think of and told God I was sorry for the pride I’d had, and I asked Him to come into my heart. And He did. He’s been there ever since that day, Brodie.”

“It sounds too easy.”

“It wasn’t easy for Jesus. He left the throne on high where He had all the angels worshiping Him, and He came down to live like a man. He was hungry and tired, and people insulted Him. The very people He had created ridiculed Him and hated Him, and then He came to die, Brodie. You’ve read the story.”

“Yes, I have. Terrible thing.”

“There He was, the son of God, nailed to a cross bleeding and dying and yet that was why He came to this earth. For me and for you and for all sinners. It doesn’t matter how
much or how little you’ve sinned. We’re all sinners and need to come to the cross.”

Passersby stopped to look curiously at the young couple, wondering what they were talking about. The pilot was bent forward, looking down at the concrete beneath his feet, and the young woman was watching him and speaking earnestly.

Neither Brodie nor Meredith was conscious of the passage of time, but Brodie was aware of one thing. The load that was weighing him down was getting heavier—and the more Meredith talked about Jesus, the more miserable he felt. He reflected on his life, but he saw nothing to be proud of. Finally he said, “I’m pretty tired, Meredith. I feel like I’ve been runnin’ all my life.”

“I think you’re right. You’ve been running from God. I’d give anything in the world to see you get rid of that load.”

He looked up and said, “Don’t you have to be in a church or somethin’?”

“Brodie, weren’t you listening? I told you I was in the flower garden. God takes people wherever He finds them. If a pilot fell out of his airplane and called on God with all of his heart and meant it, he’d be saved before he hit the ground.”

The conversation went on, Brodie avoiding the issue, and more than once he nearly got up and left. But he found he could not. He had been sorry for wrong things before, but now as Meredith began to quote Scriptures to him all about the Lamb of God dying for his sins, he knew he could no longer bear it. “Tell me what to do, Meredith,” he pleaded in a voice filled with despair. “I can’t live the rest of my life like this.”

“I think you know what to do, Brodie. You have to repent. That simply means to turn around and go the other way—God’s way. You need to call upon God in the name of Jesus.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all—if you mean it. It can’t be just words. You have to be willing to follow Jesus. There was this rich young ruler who came to Jesus once. Do you know the story?”

“I sure do. Kat told it to me once. Jesus told him to sell everything and come and follow Him.”

“That was his problem, but yours isn’t money. You don’t care any more about money than I do. But you care about doing exactly what you want to do. You want to run your own life, and I think Jesus would say to you, ‘Give up your life and let me live my life in you. Become my disciple.’”

Meredith knew when to stop talking and let the Holy Spirit work. She sat there tense and saw the emotions moving across Brodie’s face. He was perspiring now, and his hands were trembling. She longed to say something else but felt restrained.

“All right,” he said hoarsely, “do I need to get on my knees?”

“No, I don’t think so. Let’s just pray. I’ll pray for you and ask God to receive you, and you, in your own heart, ask God to forgive your sins and tell Him you want to be His. And He’ll hear you, Brodie.”

He bowed his head and closed his eyes. He heard Meredith’s soft voice as she prayed for him, but he was not conscious of her words. His lips began to move, and he began, perhaps for the first time in his life, to really pray. He began to confess to God the things he had done years ago. This went on for some time, and finally he hesitated and then said loudly enough for Meredith to hear him, “God, I ask you to forgive me of every sin, and I ask you to make me a Christian. I want to follow you, Lord Jesus, if you’ll show me how. So I give my whole life to you.”

Tears ran down Meredith’s face, but she did not move. She put her hand on Brodie’s shoulder and felt that he was trembling, and then she opened her eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks as well. “That was the right thing to pray, Brodie. I know God has heard you.”

“I don’t feel a lot different. Well . . . maybe I do.”

“How do you feel?”

He straightened up, unaware of the tears that were staining his cheeks. “I feel . . . sorta light.”

“You mean that load’s gone?”

“You know, Meredith, it is!” He took out a handkerchief and began to wipe his face. “Here, you need this too,” he said. “We’re a couple of babies, aren’t we?”

“No we’re not. Welcome to the family of God, Brodie.”

He took the handkerchief back. “What do I do now?”

“How did you learn to fly?”

“Why, I studied books and found out everything I could about flyin’ and then went up on flights.”

“That’s what you do. You study the Bible. You pray. You talk with me and other believers. Oh, how happy Kat will be to hear about this tonight!” she exclaimed, and her eyes danced.

The two got up and started down the street toward the Thompsons’ place, and Meredith reached out and took his hand. She squeezed it and said, “I’m so proud of you, Brodie! So happy.”

“Me too.”

They hadn’t gone far when suddenly Brodie stopped dead-still and pulled her to a halt. “There’s an air-raid siren,” he said. “We’ve gotta find shelter.”

“There’s a shelter two blocks down. Come on.”

The two started running, but it was Brodie who heard the scream of the Stuka bomber. He had never heard one before, but when he looked up, he saw the airplane coming straight down, and the siren was screaming like a banshee. “We won’t make it!” he cried.

“We’ve got to try!”

But there was no time. The bomb from the Stuka exploded somewhere to their right with a tremendous explosion. The Stuka carried only one bomb, but it could be accurately placed.

Brodie looked up and saw another plane, this time on their left. “Run!” he yelled. “We gotta get away from him!”

But they did not get away. The bomb exploded, and suddenly broken glass filled the air. The windows had blown out of all the businesses over to their left, and the force of the
explosion threw both Brodie and Meredith down. The air was filled with flying bricks, one of which struck Brodie on the shoulder as he tried to get up.

“Meredith!” he cried and blinked his eyes against the swirl of dust. He turned her over and saw that she had been struck by the flying glass. Her chest was covered with blood, but it appeared the wound was in her upper arm. He tore the fabric from her sleeve and exposed a deep cut. Quickly he yanked his necktie off and tied it above the wound. As he leaned forward to secure the tie, he realized she had another cut on her scalp, which was also bleeding freely.

He picked her up and staggered down the street, looking for an ambulance or anyone who could help. There were screams all around him, and the echoes of walls falling seemed very near.

He stopped when he heard Meredith call his name.

He looked down and saw blood on her lips, and he was horrified that she might have some internal injuries. “What is it?” he cried out.

She whispered something, and he could not hear. He put his ear to her lips. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“If I die . . . I want you to know . . . that I love you.”

Brodie uttered a short cry and then held her tight. He ran down the street and flagged down an ambulance that was driving slowly down the street. When a man dressed in white jumped out, Brodie said, “She’s hurt bad!”

“Here. Put her in the back. Let me check those wounds.”

Brodie helped put Meredith in the back, and her eyes were closed. “I’m going with you,” he said.

“All right, Lieutenant. Let’s go, Harry, and make it fast!”

****

She seemed to be in a deep, dark pit, for everything was black and there was only muffled sound. From time to time, she would recognize faraway voices. One of them sounded vaguely familiar.

There was a faint light in the distance, and she tried desperately to find her way to it. It was as if she were trying to climb out of a deep well. Gradually the light became brighter, and the voices clearer. She began to feel pain in her arm and in her leg and then in her head. It was not terribly bad, but she moaned slightly and as soon as she did, she heard a voice.

“Meredith—can you hear me?”

Meredith opened her eyes and everything swam for a moment, and then the features of Brodie Lee settled into place. “Brodie.”

“Thank God you’re all right!”

Meredith was trying to understand what was happening. She was lying on a bed between sheets. She tried to raise her right arm and found that it was bound, somehow, so that she could not lift it.

“Don’t try to move,” he said.

He put his hand on her forehead very lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

“No—yes! It was a bomb. I remember the bombs falling.”

“That’s right, but you’re gonna be all right.”

“How long have I been here?”

“The bombing was yesterday. They had to do some patchin’ up on you.” She saw Brodie’s face loom over her and felt his kiss on her cheek. She lifted her free hand, and he caught it and held it. “You had me scared,” he said, shaking his head.

Meredith was remembering things clearly now, and she smiled. “I remember you asked God to save you.”

“That’s right, I did. I don’t guess I’ll ever have any trouble rememberin’ where I got saved.”

“I won’t forget it either.”

“Do you remember what you said to me after the bomb went off?”

“No, not really. It’s all sort of mixed up.”

“You told me you loved me. I’ll never forget that either. Look, Meredith, we talked about this once. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You said you’d never marry a man who wasn’t a Christian. Well, I’ll never be as good a Christian as you are, but I intend to serve God the rest of my life. And one of these days, I’m gonna talk to you about marriage some more. I don’t think we’ve exhausted the subject. It’s different now.”

Meredith reached up and put her hand on his cheek, and he covered it with his own. “Yes,” she whispered, “it is different now!”