by Miller, Tim
“You guys have to see this!” she shouted, jumping up and down. “At the nursing home, you won’t believe it!”
“Believe what?” I asked. Every other diner and all the waitresses were looking at us now.
“One of my patients died this morning,” Mary Ann started, when Jose interrupted her. “Mary Ann, I’m so sorry for your loss, but that isn’t really unusual, is it? I mean, for a nursing home?”
Jose was trying to be helpful, I guess, but I could tell it was annoying Mary Ann almost as it was annoying me. I needed to hear what she had to say. I had a feeling there was something important behind her agitation. “Go on,” I urged gently, shooting Jose a look with my pastoral authority that said “hush.”
“No, of course it isn’t unusual for us to have residents die. It happens. But this lady had been healthy when she came in. She went downhill after she got a stomach infection, and that’s what did her in.” Mary Ann was building to a big finish, I could tell. I wished she would just get to it. “That’s not the weird thing—the miraculous thing!”
“We found her dead this morning. The aide began cleaning her up as I called her family. Then, this preacher who was there visiting another patient came into the room. I guess he’d heard about her dying. He sat down by her, and prayed while he held her hand.” Mary Ann waved her own hands frantically as she spoke, but at least she had stopped hopping. “Well, as he prayed, she woke up! She sat right up, opened her eyes, and started talking!” Mary Ann was flushed as she looked at us, waiting for our reaction.
The men all looked at each other and the rest of the diners began to murmur among themselves.
“It’s a miracle!” Mary Ann exclaimed. “She’s better now than she was before. Can you believe it?”
Everyone else was looking at me to see my reaction. I tried not to look too shocked. For all I knew, the woman wasn’t really dead to begin with, but something told me she really had been. Perhaps it was a miracle. Davidson had said I would know the man when I found him. I had a feeling I just had.
Chapter 7
When I arrived at the nursing home, the mayhem had already started. People were gathered outside, trying to see what was going on. There was even a local news truck parked in the front. This was going to be great. If word got out this guy could raise the dead, news crews from San Antonio, Houston and even Dallas would be flocking down here. I could see the frenzy now. People would be nearly worshipping the guy, falling at his feet. I needed to find out what was going on before all that happened.
As I approached the building, Mary Ann was already there. She ran over to me and led me through the crowd of people, into the nursing home. Mary Ann was still bounding with excitement.
“Mrs. Woods is her name,” she said. “She barely remembers anything, but I thought you’d like to meet her.” I didn’t really want to meet her, but would do so as a formality. I was more interested in meeting this preacher. As if she read my thoughts, Mary Ann spoke again.
“Bishop Hoover is still here. He is the one who prayed over her.” Now we were getting somewhere. We walked down a long hallway, past a nurses’ station. The place smelled like every nursing home I’d ever been in-a combination of bleach and excrement. Mary Ann took me to a room where a security guard was standing outside. He nodded to Mary Ann and let us in. AA man was sitting at Mrs. Woods’ bedside. He was wearing a black sport coat and white sweater underneath. His hair was white and balding on top. The man smiled as he looked up at us and stood.
“Well, hello,” he said. “You must be Pastor Sims. So nice to meet you, my friend.”
I shook his hand and stepped into the room. His smile was warm and friendly. He reminded me of someone’s grandpa. I sat next to him and we both looked at Mrs. Woods. She was sleeping soundly. She’d had a busy morning, it seemed. Her breathing was smooth and even. I was sure that any stomach infection, or anything else ailing her, was probably completely gone.
“So, Bishop Hoover,” I began. “You really raise her from the dead?” I wasn’t sure what else to say, so I figured I may as well get straight to the point.
“Oh, no,” he laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “I did no such thing. The Lord, on the other hand,” he pointed to the sky, “that is another story. When the nurse said she had expired, I came to her. I had a feeling God wasn’t through with her just yet. I took her hand and just started praying. After a few minutes, she sat up!”
He was so animated as he spoke, and he seemed filled with so much joy. He was waving his hands and changing his facial expression, as if his eyes were doing the speaking. I could see he was a very dynamic preacher, one who was perfect for leading a congregation into God-knows-what. I don’t think I ever got that worked up over anything. Part of me hoped I was wrong about this man. Maybe he wasn’t really dangerous, or maybe this wasn’t the man David Davidson was talking about. He seemed so kind.
“I think we should let Mrs. Woods get some rest,” The Bishop said. “How would you like to join me for lunch? I’d like to know more about your church.”
“Sure, that sounds great.” I said, even though I’d just eaten. It seemed odd that he’d just brought a woman back from the dead, and his first thought was about lunch. Perhaps this wasn’t an unusual occurrence for him. “So, have you seen this happen before?”
“Oh, heavens yes!! I’ve been on mission work all over the world. God’s miracles are alive and well today, my brother.” He walked toward the window and looked outside. The sunlight seemed to illuminate him as he stood there. “Many would have you believe God is not still at work. That He doesn’t do miracles anymore. Sadly, many who say that are within the church itself. Very sad, indeed.” He turned as he shook his head. “People accused Jesus of doing the Devil’s work when he began his ministry and raising the dead. Yet, now we all know better.”
“You’re right, Bishop,” I nodded, “I’ve heard of many miracles, but haven’t had the privilege of experiencing them firsthand.” I walked closer to Mrs. Woods and watched her sleep. She shifted slightly, as if she knew I was there. She had an oxygen cannula around her nose and an IV needle on her wrist, giving her fluids.
“That doesn’t mean they don’t exist Pastor,” the Bishop said. “Jesus said you receive not because you ask not. If you assume they won’t happen, then they won’t, for sure.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
We turned toward Mrs. Woods as we heard a moan. She was waking up. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked at us, trying to focus. She tried to speak but her throat was too dry. I poured her a glass of water as she sat up. I held the water to her lips and she took a sip, clearing her throat. She looked back and forth at each of us before she spoke.
“Are you the one who saved me? Are you an angel?”
The Bishop smiled and clasped his hands over hers.
“No, my dear, God saved you. I am merely His servant. You’ve become quite popular in the last few hours. People have come a long way to see you.”
“To see me? Oh dear. My hair is a mess and I don’t have any makeup here.” She patted her hands on both sides of her head. We both laughed quietly as she reached for her mirror.
“Please don’t let them see me like this,” she said.
“I’m sure Mary Ann can get you fixed up Mrs. Woods,” I said.
“Oh yes, that would be nice.”
“Do you have anyone we can call? Any family?”
She thought for a moment.
“Oh, no. My children all live out of state except for my oldest son. He lives in Dallas last I knew. We haven’t spoken in years.” Dallas was at least five hours away. I figured she should have some family by her side through all of this.
“It’s okay,” she continued. “I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. They’re all waiting for me to die anyway. They think I have money stashed away somewhere.”
The Bishop smiled. I could tell he had a way of putting everyone around him at ease.
“Oh, nonsense,” he said. “You�
��ll be with us for a good long while my dear. We are blessed to have you back with us.” He looked up at me and smiled. “For now, Madame, Pastor Charlie and I will let you get some rest. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of other visitors before the day is over.”
We both headed to the door as the Bishop looked at me.
“How about lunch, Pastor Charlie? Raising the dead always gives me quite an appetite.”
Chapter 8
Even though it was still rather early, I was hungrier than I originally thought. We found a little café in town. I hoped to learn as much about my new friend as possible over lunch. Watching him with people was amazing. I had always done well blending in, but I had to work at it. For him, it all looked so natural. In the short time I’d been with him, people just gravitated to him as if he were made of cotton candy or something. It still didn’t seem right to me. Man of God or not, no one can be that pleasant all the time, especially someone in ministry.
All members of the clergy had some kind of secret-no matter who you are or how big your church. Ted Haggard had methamphetamine and gay prostitutes; Jimmy Swaggart just had prostitutes, Jim Jones had Kool-Aid, but that’s another story in itself. Many ministers, like my former assistant, just liked to look at porn.. In the world of Christendom, porn was a huge no-no. I thought it was an interesting double-standard, though. A person could be an alcoholic, drug addict, or even a convicted felon, and the church would embrace him and pray for him, and guide him to healing. If you liked pornography, though, forget it---- away with you, and hide the women and children. Of course, I guess could say that interest in could go too far, and that was what lead to situations with prostitutes and extra-marital affairs.
Everyone has heard about the Catholic Church scandal with priests abusing children. Some ministers were just plain thieves. I knew one pastor whose wife was embezzling money from her job so he could buy computers and sell them on the side for dirt cheap. It was all profit, after all. I guess they viewed it as a way to supplement their income. Then, there are the preachers who turn their church into some huge multi-media commercial enterprise.
Then there was me. Granted, most would be horrified if they knew my secret. That is only because they wouldn’t understand. What I do is important, and it is just. It’s not like I’m out running around killing people at random. God exposes their sin, points it out to me, and I make it right. The world is a better place because of what I do. God’s kingdom cannot grow until the trash is taken out. Which led to my current dilemma: who is the Bishop, and how does he fit into all this?
We found a table in the corner. The waitress took our orders as soon as we were seated. The Bishop ordered a chicken salad sandwich, and I ordered a BLT. As we ate, I don’t think he ever stopped smiling. He was really starting to creep me out.
“So,” I began, “tell me about your ministry. Do you have a church?”
He shook his head as he sipped his iced tea.
“Not anymore,” he said. “I did for years. Back east. It. It was a small Presbyterian fellowship. They were wonderful people.”
“So what happened?”
“Age happened. The congregation was getting younger. I’m getting older. They wanted to go in new directions and try new things. I didn’t see anything wrong with the way we were doing things. After some time and tension, I moved on.”
“That makes sense. What do you do now? What brings you here?”
“After I left, I founded I Am the Way Ministries. Now I travel around the world and do exactly what Jesus told us all to do. We heal the sick, and feed the poor.” He was doing the talking-with- his- hands- thing again.
“Sounds fascinating,” I nodded.
“It is, very much so. Leading a church has a lot of restrictions. You’re stuck in a building and limited to taking care of your flock, doing hospital visits, writing sermons and lessons. Now, I visit people around the world, and everyone is my flock. I help whoever God puts in my path. Such as yourself, for example.”
Oh boy.
“Myself?”
“Yes, Pastor. I don’t believe it is any accident that we met. Do you?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“Uh, I guess not.” I said.
“Well, of course it’s not. God puts people in our paths for a reason. What that reason is yet, it’s hard to say. Could be for my benefit more than your own, or vice-versa.” He stopped and took a sip of his tea. I must have been staring off into space.
“Everything okay?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was wondering, do you do your ministry all by yourself?”
“Oh, not at all. It’s always good to have some help and accountability in any ministry. I have various associates who help me. Sometimes locals in a given town will assist me as well. I try to include as many as possible.”
This guy sounded untouchable. I was sure that wasn’t by accident. He was up to something for sure, but no way to tell what his plan was. I knew I had plenty of homework to do if I was going to figure this out, but I needed some sleep first. I’d barely slept in the last few days.
“It was very nice visiting with you, Bishop,” I said. “But I have got to get some rest. I’ve had a hectic last few days.”
“Oh, yes. I know that feeling indeed. A minister’s work is never done!! I should let you go as well. You have your own flock to tend to. I have some more people to see today, and then I’ll check back in on Mrs. Woods. Lovely lady, she is.” He stood and placed his money on the table.
“Thank you, Bishop,” I said, as I put my hand out. He shook it, still smiling, of course. I left the café and drove back to my apartment. Pulling all the curtains closed, I slipped off my shoes and changed out of my suit and into a t-shirt and shorts. I was so exhausted I could hardly see straight. I jotted down some notes about the Bishop so I wouldn’t forget them later. My head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes. I hoped to fall right asleep, but my brain wouldn’t shut off. Thoughts about the Bishop, David Davidson, my place in God’s plan, the Bishop’s plans, whatever they were, they would have to wait until later. Sleep finally took me before any other thoughts could take hold.
Chapter 9
When I sat up I was sitting in a church, but it wasn’t my church. My mother was sitting in the pew next to me. Looking down at myself, I saw that I was just a boy, about twelve years old. The preacher was up front, preaching about sin and judgment. He told us that God knows all of our sins, no matter what we thought we got away with; God sees and knows all. We can fool people, but we can never fool God. He went on to tell us how the punishment for this sin is death. Not just physical death, either. Your body might die, but then there is spiritual death, more commonly known as Hell. Hell is a place of eternal suffering and torment, no relief, no breaks and no escape.
I got up during the service and walked outside. There was a little boy lying on the ground. He was covered in blood; most of it around his face and neck. The boy was my little brother Tommy, but Tommy had died when I was little. Standing over him was a large Rottweiler that growled and glared at Tommy. The dog had blood dripping from its mouth; it had just killed my brother and now it was looking at me. It began to circle me, growling as the hair on its back stood on end.
I stood completely still. I should have ran away screaming as fast as I could, but for some reason I just stayed there, moving only my eyes, watching the creature circling me. Its growl turned into a guttural rumble as it stared me down. I realized there was something in my hand. I looked down and saw I was holding a sword. Was that there a minute ago? I couldn’t remember. The sword was long and had a double-sided blade. It was something a knight would have used in battle.
Behind the dog was another creature, this one much larger. The thing stood at least ten feet tall. A large set of wings appeared from behind it. They were leathery white and stretched out twenty feet or more. The entire thing was surrounded by bright light. There was a sword in its hand, too, much larger than mine. The sword was almost as long as I was tall. I
knew the creature had to be an angel. It nodded to me as the dog circled.
The dog stopped circling and faced me. It bore its bloody teeth in a wicked snarl and stared me down.. I gripped the sword and held it up, making eye contact with the dog as I did so. Before I knew what to do, it jumped at me.
I shot awake in my bed, covered in sweat. I looked around my room making sure I was my usual self again. My phone said it was two in the morning when I checked it. I’d been asleep for several hours, but not sure I could sleep again after that dream. My brother Tommy had really been killed by a neighbor’s Rottweiler. I was only twelve at the time, but it was still fresh in my mind.
The neighbors kept the dog tied up outside all day and night. One day after school it had gotten loose. I think it finally got tired of being ignored and just chewed its way through the rope. Tommy was only nine and was outside playing at the time. When he saw the dog, he started to run which only triggered the thing to attack. It caught up to him easily and pounced on him, going right for his throat. He was dead before he knew what hit him.
It was state law at the time to put down any dog that seriously harmed or killed a person. The local police couldn’t find the dog, however. It ran off into a field near our house, probably heading into the woods nearby. Police searched for it, but not very hard. My parents didn’t give the dog another thought. The pastor met up with them at the hospital where Tommy was pronounced dead.
I couldn’t leave it at that, though. That thing had just killed my brother in cold blood. Yes, it was just an animal and didn’t know better, but I didn’t care. I knew the Bible, and the Bible called for an eye for an eye. I hadn’t gone to the hospital with my parents. They were too deeply in shock to make me go along. Instead, I grabbed a butcher knife from our kitchen and headed out toward the woods. It was getting dark by the time I reached them. They were quiet and peaceful, but I knew something deadly was creeping around out there.
