Final Grains of Sand

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Final Grains of Sand Page 11

by David Harder


  “Thank you, Betty. Please have Mary, the stenographer, join us immediately.” Tony rubbed his flat palms together and said to no one in particular, “Well, Jim, I hope you’re smiling down on us, my friend, because this is turning into a train wreck.”

  A little over two weeks had elapsed, and now the team was gathered to continue their discussions for Jim’s service. Arleen had been away on business in Asia. Nate appreciated the break, for it allowed him time to hire Jim’s replacement and get his sales team back on their goals.

  Dr. Nolan had also hired a very sweet young doctor, finishing her residency, and a physician’s assistant to help in his office. If things worked well, Dr. Nolan was hoping he could sell his practice to the young doctor and finally retire. Besides, his wife had been pestering Tom about taking the time to enjoy some world travel.

  Joe was frustrated over several aspects of the meetings, including the length of time it was taking to honor his friend Jim Kreider. He was also upset over the issues Pastor Mike had created.

  Tony was ambivalent about the delays. He did want to hear the stories from all the team members and was concerned about the duration of the project, but at the same time, he was charging Jim’s account by the minute and making a sizeable profit. Nonetheless, there was a nagging element of guilt because Jim was a terrific client for Tony, and he considered Jim a friend.

  As Tony entered the conference room, he saw Dr. Nolan wasn’t wearing a tie and but had on a sports shirt and dress slacks, like he may have just come from the country club. Joe was dressed in a different Hawaiian-printed shirt, but, otherwise, he looked the same. Nate was in his usual business attire, and Arleen was radiant and gorgeous as ever.

  The room was noisy with idle chatter until the conference room door opened. When everyone looked up and saw who was entering, the silence was broken by a collective gasp in choreographed unison. Pastor Mike looked ghastly. The man had lost nearly thirty pounds. He was pale, almost ashen gray in color, and moved like he was one hundred years old. Arleen jumped from her chair and offered it to Mike, since she was closest to the door. She walked around the table and sat next to Dr. Nolan.

  “Thank you, but you didn’t need to move. I’m not on my last leg. Although, it does feel like a semi-truck ran over me.”

  The people in the room chuckled with forced laughter. Tony and everyone else watched Mike’s movements with intensity and sympathy for the man. Once he was situated in his chair, the conference door opened again, and Mary, the stenographer, walked in with her machine. She set up her equipment but continually stared at Mike as if she didn’t recognize the man.

  “Okay, folks, I’m glad to see the team is back together this morning. We will continue where we left off a few weeks ago. Mary is now ready, and our next speaker will be Reverend Mike Richards, followed by Dr. Nolan, and then Arleen. Around noon today, the caterers are bringing in a light snack, and at that time, we’ll break for thirty minutes. When you’re ready, Mike, you may begin.”

  “Thank you, Tony. I want to first apologize to those in this room for my outburst during our last meeting.”

  “Pastor Mike, your apology isn’t necessary,” Tom replied.

  “The doctor is correct, Reverend. We were all venting our frustrations. No need to apologize,” said Nate.

  “Nonetheless, I’ve spent time thinking about our last meeting and want to apologize for my conduct. Doctor, I especially want to say thank you for your visit, and I’m sorry you and I started out on the wrong foot.”

  “Mike, it’s my fault, because I was pushing your buttons pretty hard during our last meeting. I think I owe you an apology,” Joe spoke up.

  “Joe, your openness and candor are refreshing. I’m not upset with you. I’m asking everyone in this room to allow me to start afresh. I will make an effort to keep an open mind.”

  Mike looked at Arleen but couldn’t bring himself to admit he was wrong. Arleen took note of Mike’s passive-aggressive attitude as well, which only angered her further. This was the extent of Mike’s apologetic non-apology to Arleen. Being a lawyer, Tony recognized Mike’s maneuver but was hoping no one else was aware. He knew Nate had probably figured out Mike’s tactics but was hoping he was smart enough to keep quiet about it.

  “Thirty-eight years ago, I came to the pulpit of the downtown First Baptist Church. It was my first ministerial position, and I had just graduated from seminary. I started out as an associate pastor; and because of the senior pastor’s untimely demise, I was advanced to his position ten years later.”

  “What happened to the senior pastor, Reverend?” Nate queried.

  “He had, well, what I’m saying, Nate, is he had health issues and complications with his heart.”

  “Oh, is this an occupational hazard then, Reverend?”

  Mike tried to see the humor in Nate’s comment, but in lieu of the recent heart attack, it was hard to laugh at Nate’s joke.

  “Let’s hope not, Nate.”

  Mike folded his hands on the table, and he studied them awhile. He was trying to find a starting point to discuss his relationship with Jim Kreider. Looking up, he tried to smile.

  “Jim was a regular attendee of our church, gave a sizeable tithe each year; but to be honest, I didn’t get to know Jim until the last decade.” Looking down the table and staring at Joe, Mike continued. “Of course, I had no idea Jim was an artist either,” Mike paused and glanced up at Arleen. “So, I question whether I really knew the man.”

  Tony clenched his pen so tightly, his knuckle went white, and a tiny gasp emitted from the stenographer in anticipation of another breakdown. After an uncomfortable pause, the angst passed as Mike continued with his story.

  “I watched Jim and his wife, Samantha, add children every other year to their family—two girls and a boy. They sat in roughly the same place each Sunday. Jim wasn’t very active in church, beyond Sunday attendance, until his children started in Sunday school. When Stephanie and Robert were about eight or nine, Jim became interested in helping out at church. Suddenly, Jim began assisting in their Sunday school classes.”

  “Jim taught Sunday school, Reverend?” Nate could hardly believe what he was hearing.

  “Yes, Nate—for several years in a row I might add. I suspect he wanted to be in his children’s classes, so he could have more time with his kids. We’ve seen this happen before. Dad gets busy at work, toiling for days and hours at a time. They want more time with the kids, so the fathers volunteer to help out. As soon as the kids grow up, the dads disappear.”

  “Was Jim any good at teaching? Did the other kids like him?” Joe wondered out loud.

  “As a matter of fact, Joe, the kids did like him. Jim was nervous and awkward at first, but in no time, he had a group of children that followed him around the church like puppies, looking up to the man. Robert, his son, was jealous of the attention, but Jim made sure his son knew where Jim’s loyalties rested.

  “Other than his time in Sunday School, Jim didn’t participate in many other church activities. The family would occasionally show up for potluck dinners and special functions, but they usually didn’t socialize much. Once their children went off to college, Jim and Samantha attended sporadically. Most Sundays, Jim would be alone in the church.

  “Right after their children started college, Jim came to me, indicating he wanted to discuss personal matters. You know, I’m never sure what that phrase means to a person until we actually talk. Jim was interested in talking about various religious subjects. Unfortunately, I had no idea he and Samantha were having problems.”

  Mike’s mind trailed off as he stared at his open palms. His eyebrows were furrowed. Then he realized he had people waiting. He looked up.

  “Sorry, folks. You know, you think you know someone pretty well, and then something like this happens. It’s disconcerting, but I’m hearing a lot of new information concerning Jim. Information I never knew, and some I’m not sure I want to hear. In fact, I’m certain I didn’t want to know some of the detai
ls.”

  “Pastor Mike, all of us are discovering new things about Jim,” inserted Tom. “Each of us has seen one perspective of the man’s life, yet it wasn’t a complete picture. I think it’s important we don’t judge the man.”

  Mike snickered. “That’s easy for you to say, Doctor.”

  Some imaginary button was suddenly pushed for Nate. “Excuse me, Reverend? Who died and made you God? Have you led a perfect life?”

  Mike’s hands began to tremble, then his whole body. Tony looked at Nate and shook his head. The minister was fighting urges to let his emotions flare. He reached into his shirt pocket and fumbled with a small vial of pills. Struggling to get the lid off the container, the pills instantly spilled onto the conference table. Tony stood to assist, but Mike harshly waved him off. Mike snatched two tiny pills and, with shaky hands, placed them under his tongue. Mike deliberately slowed his breathing and rolled his eyes back. The room sat in silence. Tony poured a glass of water and set it in front of Mike. He then softly spoke to the minister.

  “Do you need to take a break?”

  Mike shook his head but kept his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on his breathing. Nate started to feel guilty.

  “Look, Reverend, I didn’t mean to upset you, but you’re awfully judgmental of Jim. He was a good man with a great heart.”

  Mike opened his eyes and stared at Nate.

  “Being good won’t send the man to heaven, Nate.”

  This time Dr. Nolan interjected his opinion. “Nate’s correct, Pastor. We’re not supposed to judge people. I think you might want to reconsider your position.”

  “Gentlemen, please.” Tony stood. “Shall we stay focused? Mike, are you doing okay? Do you need a break?”

  Mike shook his head and then stared at Nate first and then the doctor. “I’m fine.” Mike’s eyes were filled with anger.

  Waiting, Tony observed the room was again calm. He then leaned over and spoke to Mary, the stenographer. “Would you please read back Mike’s last comments?”

  Mary nodded and pulled the paper from the tray. “Jim was interested in talking about various religious subjects. Unfortunately, I had no idea he and Samantha were having problems.”

  Mike frowned, knowing he spoke more than Mary had recorded, but he didn’t want another incident to occur. He dismissed the omission.

  “Jim and I would sometimes go for a walk. When it comes to disclosures, I find it helps individuals to be outdoors and in open spaces. Jim asked me about my relationship with my wife and what I saw in other couples. Our meetings weren’t on a regular schedule, so sometimes we’d go weeks between our visits.”

  “Did Jim ever talk to you about being a Christian?” asked the doctor.

  “Not that I recall, Doctor. I assumed because he attended church and tithed regularly, that his faith was solid.”

  Dr. Nolan hung his head and slowly shook it back and forth.

  Mike’s voice elevated in pitch and volume, “What’s wrong now, Doctor?”

  Tom stared into Mike’s eyes and replied with a flat, monotone voice. “I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss this matter, Pastor.”

  Tony was grateful the doctor exercised prudence. “I’m afraid the doctor is correct, Minister. Would you please continue?”

  Mike nodded but was getting irritated. “A few months ago, I received a call from Jim regarding Samantha’s untimely death. I knew nothing of the issues between Jim and Samantha, nor did I know she was seeing another man. Hearing about this information in this very room . . . well, it’s quite unsettling. It makes me think I don’t know or understand the people attending my church.”

  “Stay with that thought, Reverend, and explore it further,” said Nate. “You’ll be a better man and leader for it.”

  Tony’s body went rigid, and he stopped breathing.

  Mike didn’t want to respond to Nate because it further irritated him beyond words, but he acknowledged him anyway.

  “Perhaps.” Mike had a clipped edge to his voice.

  Tony slowly relaxed.

  “As I was saying, Jim was distraught over Samantha’s death. He didn’t utter one word to me during the funeral service. I also noticed he didn’t cry, and for a man to do that at his wife’s funeral is very strange. I gave an eloquent service and received comments to that effect from several of the attendees.”

  Up to this point, Joe had been relatively quiet. “Tell me, Mike—we’ve listened to you blathering on for maybe an hour, and in all that time, you’ve told us more about you than Jim. Why is that?”

  Before Mike could respond, Arleen jumped into the conversation. “Joe is correct, Reverend. His point is well-taken.”

  Suddenly, everyone sat forward in their chairs, staring at the minister. Tony knew it was happening again.

  Mike sat upright and puffed out his chest. “I don’t believe you!”

  The lawyer jumped to his feet. “Okay, folks—let’s take a five-minute break.”

  Mike sat upright, finding the strength to assert himself. “Hold on a minute, Tony. I feel like this whole room is against me. I’m rather uncomfortable with all these accusations, and they need to hear my response.”

  Dr. Nolan came around the conference table and stood next to Mike. “Pastor, we’re all tired, and no one is specifically attacking you. We want answers about Jim Kreider’s life.”

  “I disagree. I feel like everyone is attacking me!”

  “Tony, please have everyone leave the room, except the stenographer. I want to speak with Mike privately,” Tom requested.

  Without another word, the room emptied. When the conference door closed, Tom motioned for Mike to sit. Hesitantly, Mike agreed.

  “Pastor, Mary is going to read your words back, so we can hear them in another voice. Please listen carefully to your words—the same way you’d listen to people in your office seeking counsel.”

  Mike was upset, but he agreed. “Okay, I’ll listen.”

  “Thank you, Pastor. Now, Mary, please read Mike’s story from the beginning.”

  The stenographer was nervous, but she pulled the paper from the tray and started reading Mike’s words. Her voice was flat and had almost no inflection. When she finished, Mike’s face was red, and tears were falling. The stenographer got up to leave but paused to push the box of tissues in front of the minister before respectfully leaving the two men alone.

  “Pastor, did you hear something in your words that touched you?”

  “I’m embarrassed. I initially didn’t believe what everyone was saying about me, but . . . How could I be so stupid? I can’t argue with what I just heard.” Mike placed his palms on his face and sobbed.

  Dr. Nolan reached out and wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder, holding Mike tight.

  “Pastor, please listen to me very carefully. You have years of training and have carried enormous responsibilities, but the burdens and the worries that accompany that are breaking your heart. God never demands something this unreasonable.

  “Jesus said, ‘Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’1

  “When we set ourselves above others, pretending to be better than everyone else, we’re no better than the Pharisees, whom Jesus condemned. We are human. Even you are human and make mistakes. It’s okay for people to see humility in their pastor.”

  Mike looked up at Tom. “I didn’t intend for this to happen. In fact, my heart attack has opened my eyes to many of my personal faults. You must know, I am trying—”

  “We all make mistakes, Mike. After nearly fifty years of doctoring people, I recently realized I’ve not taken care of my wife the way she expected. I placed my patients ahead of her. I, too, am learning these same, painful lessons.”

  “What shall I do now? I can’t have this room filled with people who won’t respect me. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “Mike, you’ll learn to earn their respect because you’ll humble yourself and ask for the
ir forgiveness.”

  “But what if they won’t forgive me?”

  “I forgive you—because if I didn’t, then how could I seek forgiveness from God?”

  “These people aren’t Christians, Doctor. Why would they show me mercy?”

  “Because we are all humans and make mistakes. However, you should be careful with your labels. You have no way of knowing if they are Christians or not—you cannot make a decision of that magnitude.”

  Mike looked down and shook his head. “I don’t know. My situation seems impossible.”

  “And just like the Bible says, ‘ . . . with God, all things are possible.’”2

  “I’ll try, Doctor, I really will; but if they start attacking me, I’m finished here.”

  “I have faith this will work.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Sit here, Pastor. I’ll return with the others in a few minutes.”

  Mike looked worried, but Dr. Nolan gave the minister one of his grimacing smiles and patted Mike on the shoulder. Tom then walked out of the room. Looking around, Tom saw the team clustered near Tony’s office door.

  “Could I ask all of you to step inside the room and close the door?”

  The room filled quickly, with some individuals standing. Tom took a few minutes to gather his thoughts while everyone watched with intensity.

  “Pastor Mike and I sat and listened to Mary read his statements. After taking time to reflect on this information, Mike has reached a humbling decision. He realizes that when we shared our criticisms, we were correct—not an easy pill for him to swallow. He’s concerned we’ll judge his character harshly. I assured Mike that we are human and make mistakes. At first, Mike’s attempts may seem awkward, but I’m willing to give the man a chance to redeem himself. Anyone care to join me?”

  Momentarily, a long silence filled the room.

  “You can count on me, Doctor,” assured Nate.

  “Me too, Doc,” added Joe.

  “Absolutely,” said Tony.

  “Of course, Monsieur,” pledged Arleen

  Dr. Nolan made eye contact with Arleen. “Thank you. We must endeavor to remain positive, moving forward. Mike warned, though, that if he feels attacked again, he may end his participation.”

 

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