On the Edge

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On the Edge Page 22

by Parker Hudson


  “But that is where Jesus found me. In the gutter. In despair. Contemplating suicide. I found out later that a lot of people had been praying for me. For years. By His grace, He found me. And what I want you to hear is that He changed me. Instantly. Permanently.” Price took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

  “I finally surrendered all of that old life to Him and asked Him to forgive me for the sin I had committed and for the other men I had led astray. I was at the bottom, and I asked him to come into my life and to lift me up.

  “Kids, you don't have to be at the very bottom to ask him into your lives. Please don't go that far. But let me assure you, whether you are aware of it or not, Satan is gunning for you right now. He's after you. And by yourself, you will never defeat him. You need God and His Holy Spirit in your life. Let me tell you: walking away from the homosexual lifestyle is not easy. But I did it, in one day, through His power. By the grace of God, I've never looked back. I pray every day that His Holy Spirit will refill me and give me the power to carry on. I have a freedom and a joy in my life now that I can't really express. By surrendering to Him I found perfect freedom. God has me, and I'm His. And I'd like to introduce you to the second greatest joy in my life, my wife, Patti.”

  Applause filled the room as a short, brunette young woman stood up from where she had been sitting quietly next to Glenn, turned around, smiled, and acknowledged the recognition from the young people.

  Glenn walked up front, and there followed a question and answer period, in which Price emphasized again the universality of Satan's attacks. Then there were prayer requests and a ten-minute prayer period, led by the students themselves.

  Susan was struck by how personal and specific were the prayers offered by these kids her own age. She had never prayed like this, and certainly never out loud. They were lifting up friends and family to God and praying both thanksgivings and requests in their own lives. One girl stood and prayed for a friend of hers who was considering an abortion. Amy felt warm, and she wondered if these same people had prayed for her. Then the girl prayed for the unborn baby as if it were already a person, asking God that He not allow the baby to be killed in his mother's womb. It was almost too much for Amy, who for the first time opened that corner of her consciousness, shut tight since the morning of her pregnancy test, allowing in the thought that she had in fact taken an innocent child's life. She slumped down in the chair, and both Susan and Bobbie were silently concerned for her.

  When the prayers were over, the kids divided up. Some were going to an early lunch. Some stayed behind to talk to Price and his wife. The three friends sat still, letting Amy set the pace for getting up. As she rose, she looked white as a sheet. “I'm sorry, Amy, if that hit too close,” Bobbie said. “I really didn't mean for you to be hurt. We never know what people will pray for. Let's go on to the service, where you can sit as much as you want, if you're not feeling well.”

  Amy mustered a fragile smile and followed Thomas, Bobbie, and Susan to the door. Glenn had managed to work his way there as well, and he handed Bibles to Amy and to Susan. “Here, we'd like you to have these, from our youth group. Someday I hope you'll have read the whole book. But for starters, try reading the Gospel of John.”

  Both girls returned Glenn's smile and accepted the gifts. “Thanks a lot,” each one said, as they followed Bobbie toward the sanctuary.

  The four teenagers sat with the Merediths, and the opening hymn began right at 11:15. It was an old and often-heard hymn, which even Susan and Amy recognized, and soon they were caught up in the general praise, singing along with Bobbie and Thomas. Amy found her spirit lifting as she focused for a moment on God, and not on her own problems.

  The service lasted about ninety minutes, and Michael Andrews’ sermon was on Christian love—tough love, when you care enough about someone to tell him that he is wrong. “We get love and sentimentality mixed up today,” he said. “If I truly love someone, then I want God's perfect will in his or her life. And that means that I cannot want him or her to do something which is outside the will of God.” Susan listened and thought about Drew and wondered for a moment whether they were really in love.

  At the end of the sermon, Michael, as he almost always did, asked everyone to bow in prayer, and then he gave an invitation to those who heard God talking to them that morning, to silently repent and to ask Jesus to come in, to take over, and to be the Lord of their lives. Amy heard the words and knew that God was calling her away from all that Price had talked about. To a life of quiet joy with Him, not worrying about what other people thought or did. She heard, but Doubt was still reacting, diminished as it was. “Could this be real? Bobbie and Thomas and Price are real, but are they being fooled too?” the voice asked her. She heard, but she could not surrender. Not that day. But she heard.

  After communion, they ended the service with “Amazing Grace.” Amy had been surprised by the many raised hands during all of the singing that morning, but particularly with this closing hymn. As she discreetly looked around, she noticed tears on many of the faces near her, both men and women. She felt the power. She did not have it yet. But she could see what it was doing, from Bobbie to Thomas to Price to all of these adults, standing, singing to God, and weeping. She would not have believed it only twenty-four hours before. Now she had seen it. The question was, did she want it?

  As the three girls walked to the car with the Merediths, Anne asked Susan and Amy if they would like to come again sometime.

  “I'll be away the next few weekends,” responded Susan. “But maybe in the fall, after school starts,” she smiled.

  “I'd like to come again,” said Amy. “I really enjoyed both the youth group and the service. Thank you so much for inviting me. I think I'll come again next Sunday. I'll talk to you this week, Bobbie. Maybe I'll pick you up.”

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 10 – “Janet, we heard that you'll be on vacation for two weeks,” Tom Spence said, standing in the door to her office on Thursday morning, “and since we'll have to say something to Bill while you're gone, I thought that I should see where you stand. Are you going to join us?”

  Janet motioned for him to come in and to close the door. “Have a seat, Tom. I did talk to my husband, who is an attorney, and I did think about it a lot. I've been meaning to get with you and Connie, but our schedules have just been so crazy. I'm glad you stopped by.”

  Tom nodded and took a chair across from her. “Tom, I know we won't agree on this, so I might as well tell it like it is. I do think that ‘911 Live’ is wrong to be on the air, particularly when it's scheduled, for all of the same reasons that you, Connie, and the others feel so deeply. But I haven't given up on being able to change things from within, and I'm not ready to sacrifice my job—maybe even my career—over this issue. I'd rather try to influence policies from the inside.”

  “And just how, exactly, do you plan to do that?” Tom asked quietly.

  The truth was that Janet had been practicing what she had already said for a couple of days, thinking that it would be enough. She had not expected his question, and she involuntarily glanced down at her desk. There was an uncomfortable silence. “Well, by letting Bill know that shows like this are not appropriate. And I thought I would maybe write a memo to the chief of programming at the network,” she ad-libbed. “I've known her for several years, and I think I can approach her through the children angle, although she's single. Anyway, I'll think about it. And I wish all of you would stay and help fight it with me.”

  “As you know, Janet, we've already fought those battles, with no success. First they ignore you. Then they humor you and make you think that they're listening. Then they co-opt you into the process, all the time hoping to wear you down. You've seen the process perfectly with ‘911 Live.’ We have no choice left but to give in, or to resign.

  “We so wish you would join us, Janet, because it will be real news if all of us go. But if some go and some stay, they'll use the old tactic of divide and conquer. We'll be labeled as crazies and
forgotten. You'll be the sane voice of moderation. Who knows, Janet, maybe you'll be interviewed after we go or make it to a few local talk shows.” As Tom rose to leave, he added, “You better be thinking about what you're going to say, about the show and about us. They won't make it easy for you. You'll find, unfortunately, that once you compromise, it's hard to go back.”

  “I don't think I'm compromising. I'm just protesting in another way,” Janet said forcefully.

  Tom smiled. “I hope you're right. God bless you Janet…and your family.” And he silently closed the door behind him.

  FRIDAY, AUGUST 11 – Friday evening Richard and Janet packed the items she had assembled plus the big suitcases into the minivan Janet used as her car. Susan had been working extra shifts at the yogurt shop to make up for her coming absence, and she was on again that night. Drew was bringing her home after work, as a last date for two weeks. Tommy was helping load the van. He had been at home and more subdued since the previous Saturday night. Neither parent knew why, exactly, but they were delighted to have him around.

  Drew and Susan stopped in the same cul-de-sac on the way home that night and were surprised that Jay's car was not already there. During the week, Susan had asked Drew on the phone one night about Michael Andrews’ words on real love and on the will of God. Drew had responded logically that God is a God of love and He wants us to love each other. Drew assured Susan that he loved her very much and that God had given men and women natural urges and ways to express their love for each other. When Susan asked about marriage in relation to those ways, Drew responded that those ideas had been right in Bible times, before modern science, hygiene, birth control, and so on were invented. God did not mean for us to be stagnant, but to advance with the knowledge He has given us. “We know so much more now, Susan. I'm sure if the Bible were written today, it would take all of these changes into account. But old or not, the Bible still says love is the greatest gift, and I certainly love you and want to share that love with you.”

  Nepravel, who had been working all week to counter what Susan and Amy had heard the previous weekend, had planted that voice in Drew himself, even though Drew lived outside his neighborhood. Balzor had given his personal permission. And through it Drew's simple teenage lust for Susan took on an almost religious quality. The Father of Lies had not missed a trick.

  So parked that night in the dark, knowing that they would not see each other for two weeks, their passion elevated to godly love, Drew and Susan almost did “it.” But the memory of Amy's ordeal was too fresh in Susan, and so she stopped him. To calm his protests, and to stretch out the excitement, Susan whispered in his ear that she would start taking her birth control pills while on vacation. “And that should give us both something to look forward to when I get back!” She smiled in the dark.

  “You got that right,” Drew agreed, smiling as he hugged her close, trying to calm his racing heart.

  Richard heard Susan come in and lock the front door. Then he turned out the light in their bedroom. Janet, exhausted from a week of work and looking forward to an early start in the morning, nevertheless did her best to feel romantic, since she would not see Richard for over ten days. Richard had been in an unusually good mood all evening, helping with the packing without any complaints.

  All summer, since her ultimatum on the day of the “911 Live” test run, he had been pleasantly docile, and even loving toward her. They did seem to have found a new balance in their relationship, and Richard was not as angry. He was trying, through his own will, to grow a relationship with her. Of course he had not been able to end his affair with Kristen, whom he planned to see the next day, once Janet was gone. Richard knew that his future, like his past, had to be with Janet. It was just the continuing present in which Kristen was so important. He simply did not know what to do, and so he did nothing.

  That evening the two of them made love in a quiet and peaceful way. It meant a great deal to Janet, who was beginning to conclude that Richard really did love her and was trying. And Richard felt the same way about her. It could have been the signal of a real starting over, if Richard did not have to keep constantly reminding himself not to slip up and utter “Kristen” at the wrong time.

  11

  WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 16 – “Now, what can I do for you?” Bill Shaw asked, as he, Tom Spence, Connie Wright, and four other men and women, also station employees, all settled into the comfortable chairs around their conference room table. Eight color monitors embedded in one of the walls kept their own signal and those of their main competitors in view constantly but silently during their discussion.

  “Bill, the six of us have talked among ourselves, watched the promotion videos, and, frankly, prayed about ‘911 Live.’ Of course you know that Connie and I rode along on the test run, with you and Janet. After all this thought, observation, and contemplation, we feel more strongly than ever that this show is totally inappropriate for viewing in our audience's homes, particularly at a time when it might lead to staged acts of violence for the sake of television when so many children will probably be watching. We are here to formally ask you to cancel the show in our city, or at least to tape it for rebroadcast at 11:30, after the news.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I won't do either one?”

  “Then the six of us, and perhaps others, will resign from our positions.”

  “I see. Could you please tell me what gives the six of you the right to decide what's best for our audience to see at 7:30 on Friday evenings?”

  “That's obviously not a job which belongs to any of us, formally. But common sense and simple decency tell us that you don't bring unedited violence and mayhem into people's living rooms—nor do you set up a weekly stage for deranged people to parade their worst fantasies in front of a national audience.”

  “That may be what you keepers of our moral code think, but the rest of the country can't wait. I thought we might be discussing this subject, so I brought the reports from the preview tests run on sample audiences, using the same videos, I might add, in which you participated. Here,” he said, sliding the reports down the table towards Tom. “The viewers loved it. Network says this will be one of the hottest—if not the hottest—shows of the fall season. It starts in a month, in early September. And you want me to kill it? To call Network and say that we're too squeamish here in this city to view the truth? That we want to censor ourselves? Come on, guys. Are you crazy?”

  “Bill, Network should never have come up with this,” Connie picked up for Tom. “Of course people will say they like it. So long as it's other people's problems and crashes and deaths we're broadcasting live. But what about the victims? Some things are not decided by majority vote, but by what is simply right.”

  “And who decides what's right, if not the majority?”

  “Well, a good place to start is Scripture. Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule? It's pretty useful. Would you want to watch your own child burn to death on television, Bill?”

  “Of course not…but I guess if it did happen, God forbid, and it was picked up by the show, I'd understand.”

  “Come on, Bill,” Tom said. “You might understand, but would you like it? And what about other people?”

  “Look, we're not getting anywhere,” Bill cut him off. “I'm not going to buck Network, and I'm not going to tape the show and rebroadcast it. It's called ‘911 Live,’ and live it's going to be. So if that's too much for you, you'll just have to resign. By the way, where does Janet stand in all of this?”

  “You should ask her yourself, but I don't think she is prepared to resign, although she hates the show,” Tom said.

  “Well, good. I hate some of our other shows, but I'm not resigning either. Now, anything else? Let me know what you finally decide. Meeting adjourned.” And without any attempt at further reconciliation, Bill rose and left by the side door.

  “Bruce, this is Richard. I've got good news. Marty called this morning and said the tax people
told him they'll have the estate wrapped up by the end of August. So he suggested that we go ahead and schedule our closing for early in September, either just before or after Labor Day, in three to four weeks.”

  “Sounds great, Richard. And none too soon. We can obviously put the full million to work, and the Fairchild stock seems, for the moment at least, to be holding steady at around 25.”

  “Well, start updating your closing exhibits, like the accounts payable and receivable, and we'll start working with Marty's law firm to generate the closing documents.”

  “Go easy on us, Richard,” McKinney half-joked, thinking about the probable legal fees.

  “Always, Bruce. You know that.”

  That evening Richard had dinner at Kristen's apartment. He had already spent two nights there since Janet and the kids had left. He had mentioned to Nancy Bryant on Saturday, as they watched Janet pull down the driveway, that he had some touchy contracts in the works and might have to go out of town at any moment, so she should not worry if he were away. He promised to call whenever he wouldn't be there so she could check the house.

  “That's fine, Richard,” Nancy had said. “Whatever Tom and I can do while Janet's away, just let us know. But we won't be much help next weekend because we're planning a trip to the mountain house. Would you like to come?”

  Richard had graciously declined, saying that this was his one annual opportunity to really catch up on his work and his reading.

  Now he and Kristen were enjoying a late dinner on her twelfth-floor balcony. There was a spectacular view of the city below them in the dark. This was like a dream to Richard, sipping white wine with this beautiful woman, looking out at all the lights, wondering what he had done to rate so much happiness. The voices were really spinning and had been since Saturday. He recognized that when he was with Janet, he thought his life should remain with her. But when he was with Kristen, he received such an ego stroking that he could—maybe—imagine leaving Janet for this younger woman. But then he thought of the kids and Janet's love for him, and it all got so balled up that the loudest voice told him just not to think about it, especially not during these ten days, when he and Kristen were virtually honeymooners in their own city.

 

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