“Grandpa?” she began as she twisted her hair nervously.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Have you ever wondered if there might be more to life than knowing and serving the God of the Bible?” she asked tentatively, looking down at her lap instead of making eye contact.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, like maybe it’s more complicated than that. Maybe God isn’t really like a person, but more like a force in the universe, some kind of power that everyone can tap into,” she said, trying to explain. The more she struggled to put it into the words, the more she realized how vague it must sound to him.
“It’s hard to explain, Grandpa. It’s just that I wonder if maybe there is something to the New Age ideas that I’ve been learning about in Oregon,” she concluded.
“Well, kiddo, I don’t profess to know everything about New Age ideas, but I can tell you that there really isn’t anything ‘new’ about them. Where do you think ideas like reincarnation and karma come from?” Phil asked.
“I guess most of them come from Eastern religions.”
“Right. Those religions have been around for centuries, Michelle. Now let me ask you an important question,” he added, lifting her face and looking into her eyes. “Who do you think Jesus is?”
“Well, I used to think He was… like… a part of God. But now I wonder if He was really just another great teacher, like Buddha and Mohammed.” Her voice quivered, and she glanced downward again.
“Maybe you should know what Jesus said about Himself,” her grandfather replied.
“What did He say?” she asked looking up again.
“He said that He was the Son of God and that He was the only way to the Father. That’s pretty serious stuff, honey. The Jewish religious leaders tried to stone Him for claiming to be deity. Once you’ve studied Jesus’ teachings and what He said about Himself, you realize either He really is God or He was a con artist or a deluded lunatic.”
Grandpa Phil squeezed her hand again. “Unless you completely ignore what Jesus said, you can’t label Him as just a good teacher and put Him on the same level as Buddha or Mohammed.”
Michelle nodded.
“Don’t accept the teaching of your friends without really thinking about that and reading Jesus’ own words yourself.” He lifted her chin again and looked into her eyes. “None of the New Age ideas you have been learning can offer you the hope that you will find in the pages of this book,” he said, gesturing to the worn leather Bible on the bench beside him. He took a deep breath and continued. “You’ve probably never thought of it this way, Michelle, but when you get right down to it, New Age thought is based on the idea of creating your own god.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that most people who follow the New Age perspective are really just creating a religion of their own—making a god that fits their own views. What do your teachers tell you about the world religions?”
She thought for a moment before replying. “I guess they say that there is good in every religion; that we should choose the good parts of each and reject the parts that don’t fit for us.”
“That’s what I mean. Can you see how this is like making your own god? It’s a god fashioned after your own opinions and desires. It’s a god who lets you live any way you want without consequences. While that may be fine when life is going along smoothly, how can you run to that kind of god for wisdom in a situation like you’re in now with your dad? Those gods don’t know any more than you do.”
He paused as if to let his words sink in. Michelle sat still, staring toward the cross.
Her grandfather placed his arm over her shoulder and continued. “Honey, man has been trying to understand God since the beginning of time. All kinds of ideas and practices have evolved throughout the world from those attempts.”
She nodded. “So how do we know which ideas are right, or that there is only one path to God?”
“That’s why God came to earth, putting on humanity in the form of His Son, Jesus. He became flesh so that we could really know Him. And through His death on the cross, He opened the gates of heaven so all who believe could spend eternity with Him.”
Michelle listened silently, staring down at the floor.
Her grandfather continued, “I know that New Age philosophy says all paths lead to God. But what did Jesus say about it, Michelle? He said, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except by Me.’”
“It just sounds so narrow, Grandpa,” she countered.
“Yep. It does sound that way, because it is. Remember that verse from Matthew where Jesus said, ‘the way is narrow that leads to life’? Even though it may seem unfair, it’s important to remember that everyone is invited to take that path. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, what your ancestral lineage is, or whether you’ve lived an exemplary life or one filled with mistakes—all are welcome to come to God through Jesus. Anyone can have open access to God, just by recognizing and believing that Jesus’ death paid the penalty for sin.”
“But don’t you think that it’s possible Christianity is just a step along the way to personal enlightenment?” she asked earnestly.
He paused and then replied. “No, Michelle. It is not a step along the way. It is the way. Besides, what is personal enlightenment, anyway? If God is the most enlightened being in the universe, do your teachers believe that you can become as enlightened as Him? If so, they are teaching the same lie as the serpent in the Garden of Eden—that you, too, can be as God, knowing all things.”
She didn’t say anything.
He gently turned her face toward hers. “Why don’t you tell me more about what you’ve been learning?”
“Well, I’ve learned about the importance of personal evolution—always growing to new levels of understanding and awareness. I’ve learned some things about psychic energy and power through yoga, meditation, and certain tools like the tarot cards. And I’ve been studying dream interpretations, to help me uncover the hidden messages of my dreams.”
While she spoke, she felt that the words sounded somehow childlike or naïve, yet she knew the experiences and lessons she was trying to explain had impacted her life over the past year. Why did they sound almost silly when she tried to explain them to her grandfather?
Groping for words, she continued. “Weird things have been happening to me, Grandpa.”
“Like what?”
“Like I have these vivid dreams and they seem to have messages in them, almost like they are trying to teach me something.”
Phil nodded, looking at her closely.
“And my yoga teacher reads tarot cards. When she read them for me, I asked her about what would happen with Dad’s lawsuit. She spread out the cards and the one in the center was the death card. It was a skeleton holding a scythe. Later I dreamed that Dad was drowning in a river, and I couldn’t get to him. Now all this happens. It’s almost like I can see into the future.” She was twisting her hair as tears clouded her vision.
He wrapped his arm around her. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Dreams can be peculiar creatures. My guess is that your worries about your father triggered that one.”
Michelle just nodded as she tried to inconspicuously brush away her tears.
“Sometimes dreams do hold special messages. Maybe you remember some of the dreams in the Bible stories we used to read together. God can use dreams to teach us more about ourselves or about the events we have encountered or are about to experience. But most of the time, dreams are just our mind’s way of trying to help us sort out our thoughts and fears.”
“What about the tarot cards, Grandpa? Why do you think they were so accurate?” She looked up and listened intently.
“I think there are spiritual forces that give power to the tarot cards, Michelle, but I don’t think they are godly forces, honey.”
Even though Michelle was reluctant to admit it, she knew what her grandfather was saying could be true.
/>
“What you’ve been studying and exploring is intriguing, but it’s not the answer you’re looking for. While I don’t discount your experiences, I believe they are, at best, a weak substitute for the truth.” He paused and leaned toward her. He looked into her eyes with an expression of great tenderness and added, “I love you, kiddo. There’s no way I can sit here and nod at what you’re saying without giving you my perspective.”
“I know, Grandpa. And as much as I’d like to say that I’m right there with you on what you believe, I guess I still have more sorting out to do first,” she replied, hoping he’d understand.
“Think it all through carefully, Michelle. There is no other path to the peace that God can offer. Real peace will come when you let the real God of the universe be the God of your life—when you take Him at His word and lean on Him for your strength and for guidance.”
He looked her in the eye and continued. “Remember, none of us is guaranteed a tomorrow. Today may be your day to decide whether or not to follow Jesus. If you are sincere about wanting to know the truth, God will show it to you. I have no doubt about that.” He smiled and gently embraced his granddaughter.
“I hope you’re right,” she said, returning his smile. Then she asked, “What do you think will happen to Dad?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m praying for a miracle. But more important than that, I’m praying your father will come to his own understanding of the truth. If he survives this, he’ll really need the Lord. And if it’s his time to go, I want him on the right path.” He paused and then added, “Your mom says that the doctor wants to put him on what they call ‘no code’.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means they won’t resuscitate him if his breathing or heart stops. Dr. Jeffries doesn’t think it’s in your dad’s best interests to keep him alive like that,” Grandpa Phil tried to explain. “He wants to have a meeting with us tomorrow afternoon. Actually, I guess it’s this afternoon,” he added, glancing down at his watch.
“What do you think, Grandpa?”
“I believe that your father should be given every opportunity to recover. We’ll discuss it together as a family, along with the doctor. In the meantime, you’re looking awfully tired, honey. Why don’t you just rest your head on my shoulder and relax for a few minutes?”
“Don’t you think we should get back to the ICU?” she asked hesitantly.
“You know, Michelle, your brother has not had any real time alone with your father since he got here. Tim’s been so busy looking after the details of taking care of insurance forms, finding food and coffee for your mother, and getting you here from Oregon, that he’s had no opportunity to sit there alone with your dad. I think we should give him more time.” He wrapped his arm around her and gently pulled her head to rest on his shoulder.
She understood what he was saying and knew that he was right. Closing her eyes, she leaned against him, listening to his steady breathing and feeling herself melt into his embrace. Gentle memories of childhood snuggles and stories of the Good Shepherd enveloped her and gave her a peace she’d almost forgotten.
Trevor could not get Michelle out of his mind. He thought about their weekend together at the conference and her incredible, positive energy. Though she was growing rapidly in her grasp of personal evolution, there was so much potential she had not tapped into yet. At a time like this, with her father in critical condition, there were many tools he could give her that might be helpful, not only to Michelle, but to her father as well.
He picked up the phone and dialed Monica’s number.
“Hello?” came a male voice from the other end, surprising Trevor who expected Monica’s husband to be gone to work by eight-thirty in the morning.
“Hello,” Trevor began. “Is Monica there?”
“Who’s this?” asked the man.
“This is Trevor Wind. I’m trying to get a hold of a mutual friend of ours named Michelle,” he added to counter the suspicious tone of voice he heard on the other end.
“Just a minute,” came the reply.
A few moments later Monica was on the line. “Hi, Trevor. What’s up?”
“I’ve got some things I want to send to Michelle. They might help her right now. Her cell phone is going straight to voicemail whenever I call.”
“I don’t think she’s taking any calls, Trevor. I can tell you the name of the hospital if that’s any help, but I don’t have the phone number here. It’s on their refrigerator in case I need to reach them about their cat I’m babysitting,” she added.
“Oh, okay. Give me the name of the hospital. I can get the phone number from the Internet,” replied Trevor. He grabbed a paper and pen.
“Okay, it's St. John’s Methodist Hospital. It’s in the Bridgeport area of California.”
“St. John’s Methodist. Got it. Thanks, Monica,” he added.
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Trevor, if you get a hold of her, tell her that I decided to bring Max here for a few days so he won’t be so lonely.”
“Max?”
“Yeah. He’s their cat.”
“Okay. I’ll tell her. Thanks again, Monica. See you Thursday.”
“Okay, bye.”
Trevor set the phone down, logged onto the computer, and looked up the hospital’s phone number. He walked over to an oak filing cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. While he called the hospital, he glanced over the tops of the file folders, looking for specific articles.
“Here’s a good one,” he said aloud, pulling out a file that read, “Healing Through Guided Imagery”.
In it were several articles about the supernatural powers of healing that can be released by visualizing the tissues in the body repairing themselves. Also in the folder was a meditation he had been given during his studies at the Wellness Institute in Spokane. “These might help her,” he muttered under his breath.
After several rings, a young woman’s voice answered, “St. John’s. How may I direct your call?”
“I’m not sure,” he began. “I’m looking for the daughter of John Ackerman. He is a patient there.”
“One moment, please.” There was a pause, and then she continued, “Ackerman. He’s in the ICU. There are no phones in those rooms, but I can transfer you to the nurses’ station.”
“Thank you,” Trevor replied. He tried to imagine Michelle in the clinical setting of a hospital intensive care ward. She was so sensitive and fragile. He ached to be there with her.
His mind was brought back to attention when a nurse in the ICU answered the phone a moment later.
“ICU. Vivian speaking.”
“Ummm, I’m looking for the daughter of a patient there,” he started to explain.
“Name of the patient please?”
“John Ackerman.”
“You must be looking for Michelle,” she replied.
“Yes. I want to send some information to her. Do you have a fax number I could use?”
“Yes, we do.” She proceeded to give him the number. “Would you like to speak with Michelle?”
“I really don’t want to bother her, but I thought she might appreciate these files. They might be able to help with her father.”
“Are you family?”
“No, just a friend. You can tell her Trevor called. Tell her I’m faxing some things to her.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to her? She’s just coming back in from the cafeteria,” she said.
“Okay, if you don’t think I’d be bothering her.”
“Here she is.”
“Hello?” Michelle’s voice sounded weak.
“Hi, Michelle. It’s me, Trevor.”
“Trevor? How did you know where to find me?”
“Monica gave me the name of the hospital. Oh, and she told me to tell you that she took your cat over to her house so he wouldn’t be so lonely.”
“Oh, she didn’t have to do that,” Michelle replied, but her voice gave away her appreciation for Mon
ica’s thoughtfulness.
Trevor continued, “Well anyway, Michelle, I’m calling because I have some articles that I thought might help you and your dad, and I want to fax them to you.”
“Okay. Did the nurse give you a fax number?”
“Yeah. I’ll send them as soon as we get off the phone.”
“Alright. I’ll be waiting for them. Thanks for thinking of me, Trevor.”
“I think about you all the time, ” he admitted. He heard her take a deep breath and let it out. “Are you holding up okay?” he asked, wishing he could be there with her.
“I’m fine. It’s my dad I’m worried about. He’s in a coma, Trevor. The doctor thinks we should put him on ‘no code’.” Her voice was quivering.
“Before you do anything, read through this material,” he urged. “Maybe it will help.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He could hear a man’s voice in the background talking to Michelle. Must be Steve.
Her voice spoke again. “I’ve got to go.”
After hanging up the phone, Trevor arranged the articles in a stack and fed them into his fax machine. He punched in the hospital fax number and sent them off. Then he grabbed his helmet and headed out the door to take a ride along the coast. He needed to escape his apartment and clear his head. Maybe he’d also drop by the bookstore later and talk to Starla for a while. She could always help him regain his center.
Michelle had some kind of pull on him that was consuming his mind and energies. He needed to get a grip and refocus.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Michelle was sitting by her father’s bedside. The rest of the family had gone to the cafeteria for a quick lunch, and they were bringing back a sandwich for her.
While she listened to the steady beeping of the monitors, she looked through the papers Trevor had faxed to her. Although she was exhausted from lack of sleep and little to eat, she didn’t want to miss out on anything that might help her father.
Vivian had left early that morning and was replaced by a drill sergeant of a nurse named Stephanie. She was very businesslike and efficient, but lacked the warmth and compassion that had helped sustain all of them throughout the long night.
Out of a Dream (Sandy Cove Series Book 1) Page 22
