Winter Season

That decision

Oscar stressed all the way home about how to handle this. He didn’t want a fight. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to not try. She was right; she hadn’t even got the job. He didn’t want her to resent him. He loved her so much.

She had shot him a text before he left about dinner. He walked into her living room with his heart on his sleeve. But she wasn’t in the living room, or the kitchen. The timer was ticking away telling him that dinner would be ready in five minutes. In an instant he knew where she was, the back door was cracked. She didn’t turn around when he stepped outside.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she answered. Her voice was flat.

He stood beside her. “Chaz paid me a visit today.”

“I thought he might.”

“What prompted you to go ahead and call him?”

“You are visibly uncomfortable with me returning to my old life. I’ll find something to do.”

She turned away walking back into the kitchen as the timer started to ring. A piping hot tray of pork chops was pulled from the oven with cornbread stuffing.

“Did you know that he had a thing for you?”

“Yeah,” she answered as she plated up the pork chops and mashed potatoes. “I never would allow him to act on it. Working with someone you’re dating is a nightmare.”

“He would delight in stumpin’ my ass.”

“I know.”

He got two drinks from the fridge, setting them on the table. He took her by the shoulders, “Ess please,” he looked deep into her eyes.

“I don’t have to beat you up over this. You are doin’ a good enough job for me.”

They sat at the table, “I don’t know what to say.”

“One, I’ve been out of the game too long. When Chet was talking about the changes in the law the other day, it was amazing. I knew changes were coming but they seem to be radical to me. Two, my left shoulder is a mess. It is a huge liability.  You saw evidence of this. Three, the last couple years have been hard on my nerves and my body. Waiting for the ball to drop has added thirty pounds to my waist line, at least untold gray hairs to my head. Four, I’m not going to add undo stress to our relationship/marriage if it doesn’t have to be there.”

Oscar was dumbfounded. His stomach reminded him of just how hungry he was.

There was a knock at the door. To Esther’s amazement, it was Pam. “Come in. O, you’re mother.” She called to him.

Oscar’s heart was already on his sleeve. Now his stomach was on the floor. His mother looked sad. “Mom?”

“I won’t stay long. I heard down at the store that you two are engaged. Is it true?” Her voice was steady, monotone almost.

“It is.” Oscar was trying really hard to remain calm.

“Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know you’re an uncle again?”

“I knew she was pregnant.”

“A girl this time, Josette.”

“I’m sure dad would be thrilled.”

“You haven’t called in a long time.”

“I usually don’t call people that fire guns into my house and wound my fiancée. I don’t interact with people that pack lies and try to start fights under my own roof.” She didn’t say a word. “What did you tell him mom? What did you tell Oat that made him mad enough to try to start a fight with me? What did you tell him that would in-sight enough rage that he shot into my house?”

She turned and left. “How do you like that?”Oscar retreated to the back porch.

While it was still fresh in her mind, she wrote a statement for Chet just in case his mother tried to start something.  She then wrapped up what was left of dinner. Oscar was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. It had started raining. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“What can I do?”

He whispered, “I don’t know.” She put her arms around his shoulders as she laid her head on top of his. His heart was breaking. She was right here. The warmth from her touch was inviting.  After a few minutes, she left him alone, figuring he needed time to sort out his emotions. He has just had two balls drop; one much worse than the other. She finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Winter Season

Winter Season

Language

Black shadow

Oscar was sitting at a picnic table outside eating his lunch. It had turned out to be a warm sunny fall day. He was working on his lesson plan as he ate very slowly the potato stroganoff that she’d made. It hadn’t bothered him when he ate it for dinner; so here goes round two, he thought to himself.

A large black shadow overtook him and loomed over where he sat. When he looked up from his bowl, Chaz was sitting down in front of him.

“For what do I owe the pleasure?” Oscar asked.

Chaz sat without a word. Oscar could only assume he was staring at him. He couldn’t see through the mirrored aviator glasses. Finally Chaz said, “I can’t decide if I want to try to get to know you better or stump your ass.”

“You’ve been wanting to kick my ass since the first day you met me.”

“Oh, you’re good.” He hissed.

“How’d you even get in here?”

“Oh, all you have to do is flash a badge.” Chaz shrugged.

Oscar tried to ignore him; thinking, hoping that he would just go away. But he was wrong. “What do you want?” He finally conceded.

“I just wanted to size you up. I wanted to take a good long look at the man that finally got under Esther’s skin.”

“Am I to assume you couldn’t?”

“Didn’t try too hard, but I would have enjoyed the opportunity. The two of you seem like polar opposites to me.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“True, only what I can read on paper.”

“I only have 30 minutes.”

“Look,” Chaz paused. “I care a great deal about Esther.” He pointed a very large finger at Oscar. “Don’t you hurt her.” Chaz continued to set there. After several minutes, he leaned in closer. “I know you can’t answer this for me, but help me put together the pieces, New York has changed her.”

“You’re right. I can’t help you.”

“So what did you do?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Did you get down on your knees and beg? Did you cry? Did you promise her the moon if she would turn me down?”

Oscar was confused. “Turn you down, what are you talkin’ about?”

“Esther told me she wasn’t interested in the job.”

Oscar was stunned. “She did?”

“Yeah, and I’m assumin’ Lover Boy that it has everything to do with you.” Chaz sucked air between his tongue and his teeth, “that’s one mighty fine ring you put on her finger.”

Oscar just sat there looking bewildered.

The shadow that was Chaz left.

Winter Season

Winter Season

Make it right

The next Sunday, Oscar and Esther did go back to church. After the choir sang their songs, Brother James stood behind the pulpit with his suit coat unbuttoned and his left hand in his pocket. There was a hushed silence that fell over the congregation.

“I had one of the ladies ask me where I’ve been all week?” He rubbed his free hand through his hair. “I’ve been praying.” He paused, “God tells us to go to a closet and pray, (Matthew 6:6) that’s pretty much where I’ve been.” He paused. “Last Sunday I upset someone very much with my sermon. And God led me to learn more about why. The subject of sin is always upsetting. But there is always more to every story.”

Oscar put his arm around Esther.

Brother James fidgeted for a moment. “I have never had anyone in my life commit suicide. No one close to me is a homosexual. I do have people close to me that have committed adultery. That have abused drugs. That have sucked the very marrow out of life, threw away the bone and sucked for more.” He turned to lean on the pulpit; “the human in me wants to glorify God and to live a life that is pleasing onto him. The human in me also knows the pain that having people close to you commit public sins causes.” He put his hand over his heart. “Pain that, it’s hard to talk about; pain that we had soon just forget.” He lowered his head as if in shame. “I try really hard not to preach about those sins that lay close to me. For the simple reason, I don’t want to relive the pain. I guess in essence, that too is a sin. Ignoring the will of God.” He rubbed his face with his hands and let out a long sigh. “I mentioned that I felt led to go to talk to the person that I hurt. And when I did, it wasn’t about the sin. It was about hope. I had popped her bubble of hope. I had taken away the hope that she would one day get to see that special person again. I need to wrap up in grace.” He hugged himself for a moment as if wrapping himself up in that word. “Jesus died on the cross to forgive all our sins and give us grace. It’s all about grace.” He pointed out over the congregation. “I see heads bobbing so some of you agree with me. As it was pointed out to me, the Bible is full of fire and brimstone. The bible is also full of mercy, love, compassion, our beloved grace, and,” he paused, “hope. I forget about hope. But think with me, when we pray: we pray for Bob’s cancer to go away. We pray that Amber will arrive safely in Denver. We pray that God will make the people that we work with more understanding. We pray the Cats will win tonight.” There was soft laughter in the congregation. “But what is that prayer?” He looked out over the crowd. “It is our expression of hope. This person wasn’t upset because I said suicide was a sin. She agrees with me that it is. But I took away her hope.” He put both hands over his heart. “When Jesus was hanging on the cross with the two thieves next to him, one says to him, ‘if you are the Lord, get yourself and us down.’ But the other one said, ‘we deserve to be here. We have committed our crime. Lord, but you are innocent. Remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ And what did Jesus say, ‘Today you will be in my kingdom with me.’ I paraphrased a bit, my point is this, I don’t want you to leave here today thinking that Brother Randall gave me permission to kill myself, no. What I am saying, is that without being witness to the event. We have no way of knowing if he or she cried out to the Lord. That’s what we need to do in our time of sorrow and triumph, is cry out to the Lord.” He stretched out his arms, “cry out to the Lord. He will hear us.” He bowed his head, “please brothers and sisters, if I ever preach on a subject that is close to you and you are hurt by my words: please, talk with me about it. I don’t want to be the preacher that turns you away from God. Tell me about it. I don’t want to be the man with blood on his hands.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “She asked me why I chose suicide as my sermon? I didn’t have an answer until now. I can only assume it’s like being an author.” He put his hands in the air around his head. “God puts ideas here.” And with a fluid motion, he moved his hands from his head to his mouth, “and they come out here. I didn’t have a sermon prepared that morning.” He leaned back on the pulpit. “Perhaps it was to teach me a lesson. If I am too human to talk about my pain, it is ungodly of me to belittle someone else’s. And for that I am truly sorry and I beg your forgiveness.” He made direct eye contact with Esther. “There will be inflammatory subjects that we discuss. Not because they are political, but because God requires it. Please, let it be a learning opportunity for me. We are all here to learn about God, myself included. I am young and the years of life are not under my belt. Let me learn from you just as you come here to learn from me.”

After the service, Brother James shook Oscar’s hand. He just stared at Esther, not really knowing what to say. She finally said, “thank you.”

He smiled for the first time since she had met him. “No, thank you.” He didn’t shake her hand, instead he hugged her.

On the way home, Oscar asked, “are you okay?”

“I think so.”

He took her hand and kissed the top of it. “What do you think about coming back?”

“Let’s give it a try.” She smiled.

Winter Season

Winter Season

Pastor Randall

About three o’clock the doorbell rang. Oscar opened the door to find the pastor standing on the other side.

“Did my mother send you?”

“Mr. Patterson.” He shuffled his feet. “No, I’m sure I don’t know your mother. Sister Sharon told me where I could find you.” He forced a smile. “I knocked at your door. She also told me that the lady that left abruptly was your fiancée.” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice.”

“How astute of you.”

“Well,” He looked back down at the porch, “I would like to talk to her.”

“Come in.” Oscar let the young man in.

Esther was standing behind the couch.

The young man walked over to Esther and extended his hand in a handshake, “James Randall.”

She accepted, “Esther Morrison. Have a seat.” She pointed to the couch. Oscar went into the kitchen and got 2 chairs.

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat as everyone sat down. “I couldn’t help but notice that you got up and left.”

“Very astute.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I feel like I need to talk to you.”

“Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?” She looked at Oscar, “we have Coke, water, tea, coffee, and I think some apple cider.”

He looked at Oscar, who was staring lovingly at Esther. “A Coke would be fine.”

Oscar got up bringing back three Coke Zeros. The young man rolled his around in his hands. He used it as more of a distraction than a drink.

Esther finally started the conversation, “are you a called to preacher or educated?”

“Both.” He smiled. “When I was 16, I had a pastor reach down to me. I was on a road headed for destruction. He reached out and saved me. From that moment on, I wanted to be just like him; full of passion and fire. When I graduated from high school, I went to seminary.”

“Have you ever had anyone in your life commit suicide?” Esther asked.

“No.”

“What compelled you to preach on the subject this morning?”

He shook his head, “I can’t answer that. One thing led to another and there it was.”

“When I was six, we had a preacher come to our house and talk to my grandmother like a dog about the sin of suicide. As if her guilt wasn’t enough, he took away her hope that she might one day get to see her son again. I was playing under the sink when all of this happened. I heard every ugly word that he said to her. I have spent the better part of my adult life hating organized religion for that very reason. He is the one human on this planet that I hate, in the true since of the word. The man that was supposed to help me and my grandparents through this tragedy was in fact telling us what a monster, a devil, and an evil man my dad was. We never went to church again after that day. My grandparents went to their graves with the,” she stopped for a moment. Oscar held her hand. “They wanted to kill him.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not saying that suicide isn’t a sin. It is the murder of oneself and our bodies are temples onto God. You have just destroyed his temple.” She got up, returning with a Kleenex. “They are his house when he lives in us. I have spent years studying suicide and religion. I have read hundreds of opinions, sermons, editorials; you name it on the subject. Through those, I understand that yes, it is a sin. But in all his grace, in all his mercy, will God forgive this sin.” Tears rolled down her face as Oscar put his arm around her. “What was so broken in my dad that made him want to take his own life? Will God not take that into consideration on judgment day, that my dad had a mental illness? What conversation did he and God have before he pulled the trigger? Or even after? Was he able to ask for forgiveness? ” She wiped at her tears. “I pray that he lived long enough to ask God for forgiveness. I pray that God will show mercy for his transgression so that I will be able to hug him again someday. I pray that he will show mercy on my grandparents for falling and not being able to get back up.” There were several moments of tense silence. “The last time I had this discussion with a pastor, I just wanted to hurt him for all the hurt he caused us.” She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs as if trying to wipe dirt. “But I want you to know that you busted my bubble of hope. You took away the hope that in God’s grace and mercy he will forgive my dad. He will forgive my grandparents. And that he will forgive me.” She got up, whispering, “You took away my hope.” She turned at the kitchen door, “suicide is talked about in the bible: Judas, King Saul, and Samson being the three I can think of right off the top of my head. What made you choose that sin?”

Brother James was near to tears himself, “please come back to church.” His voice cracked, “please let me make it right.”

“I will pray about it.”

Winter Season

Testimony Tuesday on Wednesday

God’s lessons are all around us. We sometimes don’t know how to interpret what he’s saying. Or perhaps we know but we choose to look the other way. I know I do. Brush off an experience and say, ‘that’s not me’.

There was a time in my life that I questioned how people could spend so much on their pets. Dress them up in little outfits. Take them on dates. Or spend thousands of dollars on them at the vet. Their whole world revolves around their pets.

For those of you that know me, you know I’m a little bit obsessed with my Chico. He is king of this castle. I had to take Cheekie to the vet last Tuesday. A two night, all inclusive, medical emergency (in my eyes) And I had no idea how much was gonna cost. God has used this situation to open my eyes and say, ‘this is why those other people did it. This is what it feels like’.

Chico became part of my life in 2015. 9 years this August. There are times he dances on my last nerve. But I wouldn’t trade him for all the tea in China.

God could have used a less painful way to get the message across. But I got it loud and clear.

Winter Season

New church

Esther and Oscar were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. “One of the teachers invited me to go to her church, what do you think?” Oscar asked.

“What did she tell you about it?”

“It is a Baptist church and they have a new young pastor. She says that he is full of passion.”

“Sure, we can give it a try.” She winked.

That Sunday they went to a little brick church about forty-five minutes from their homes. It was nice enough. There was about a hundred people there and much to

Esther’s joy, the congregation was diverse. Young and old were at this church.

This pastor was a very young man. He couldn’t have been more than twenty five, Esther calculated. The co-worker that had invited Oscar to church welcomed them warmly.

Esther enjoyed the music. When she looked over at Oscar, he was smiling. When they sat down for the message, he held her hand.

The pastor got behind the pulpit and let his sermon about fire and brimstone rain. And the co-worker was right, he was full of passion. But toward the middle of his sermon, he started talking about the sin of suicide. Of all the sins in all the bible to talk about, he spoke about this one. Esther could feel herself getting upset. Relived the confrontation with her gram and Brother Evan. Then, her meeting with him. As the pastor pounded his fist on the pulpit, she jumped. As he continued to rain his words of sin, she could no longer contain her tears. She bolted from the church, falling to her knees in the parking lot sobbing. Oscar wasn’t far behind her.

She was too upset to eat lunch. They went home, changed clothes and she cried all afternoon.

Oscar was heartbroken. He didn’t know how to comfort her. She was lying in what he hoped was their bed, and crying.

Winter Season