Through the Storm

by Vanessa Miller

  She put her basket down and sat next to him. “What’s your fault?”

  “I got those men killed.”

  “Hush, Isaac. You did no such thing. Why would you even say something like that?”

  “Because it’s true. I didn’t pull the trigger myself, but this psychopath picked them because of their involvement with me. I preach or reach out to lost souls and people come up dead.”

  Nina put her hand on his shoulder. “Baby, don’t you see what this is? It’s the enemy trying to get you to give up the call that God has placed on your life.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I’m just about ready to throw in the towel. I mean, maybe I should retire and let someone else take over the church. That way you and I can spend time traveling; seeing the world.” He put his hand on her stomach and added softly, “Raising our baby.”

  She shook him. “You can’t let the devil win.”

  “It would be different if the attack was against me only, but how can I keep going when people are dying because of me, Nina?”

  She rubbed his arm. “I know this situation is not easy, but Isaac, you were called by God; and I don’t think He has recalled His assignment for your life just because some lunatic wants to wreak havoc.”

  Isaac stood. “Well, maybe God should change his mind about me. What good am I if I can’t even keep His people alive long enough so they can dedicate their lives to Him?”

  “I believe that Dwight got saved the night before he died,” Nina reminded him.

  “Nina you’re not listening to me. Something I’m doing is causing someone to kill people that I minister to. And since I don’t know what I’ve done, I need to just back away from everything until I know what’s going on.”

  Isaac was a whole foot taller than Nina, so she stood on top of the bed so that he had to look up at her, “And I say full speed ahead. Let the enemy know that you are not going to back down, but you are going to keep doing what the Lord has called you to do; bring souls into the Kingdom.”

  “What about the baby, Nina?”

  She touched her stomach. “What does the baby have to do with this?”

  “You asked me not to do anything that would put my life in jeopardy. Don’t you think this lunatic is going to get tired of killing people that I minister to, and just decide to take me out of the picture and be done with it? So, if this guy is angry about my ministry, if I give it up, problem solved.”

  “I never asked you to turn your back on God, Isaac. Don’t pin that on me,” Nina jumped off the bed and headed for the door.

  “You act like I want to stop preaching. Don’t you know it would kill me inside to give my pulpit up – to stop ministering to the very people I know need me?”

  Nina swung around. “Then don’t stop following after God. Look, Isaac, all I know is, I married a fighter and I want him back.” With that Nina stormed out of the room and left her husband to lick his wounds alone.

  ***

  Donavan sat at the bar of one of Atlanta’s hottest nightclubs with the same half full glass of beer that he’d ordered two hours ago in front of him. He’d been propositioned by two women and one cross dresser. To each one he said a mannerly, “No, thank you.” Truth be told, Donavan didn’t want to be in a place like this, but the frat brothers he’d come down to party with turned out to be Bible toting and quoting choir boys. Donavan still couldn’t believe what he’d walked into at his reunion.

  There had been ten of them in the frat house. Two were dead, one in prison; two more were at home with their wives and sick children. But Charlie Brooks, the biggest woman hound in the frat house, Don Jenkins, the biggest drunk and Gordon Taylor, the atheist, had come to the reunion. The four of them had left the reunion and went to a local Applebees to catch up. Instead of talking about women and booze they were talking about Bible study and church retreats they’d recently attended. The three of them took turns falling all over themselves thanking Donavan for praying for them when they were in college.

  “Thanks, man, if you hadn’t prayed for me, I’d probably still be a cheater. I would have missed out on the wonderful woman I married and have been faithful to for every day of our three year marriage,” Charlie Brooks said.

  On and on it went until Donavan couldn’t take anymore. Okay, yes, he had prayed for these men, but now he was the one in need of prayer. He couldn’t just ask men who looked up to him to pray for his deliverance could he? Donavan stood up and told his old friends, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. I’m not feeling too good.”

  “But you can’t go to your hotel room right now. We were getting ready to go over to Pete’s house and pray with him.”

  Pete Jackson, the last of the accounted for frat brothers was not in attendance at the reunion. However, he lived in Atlanta in a 2.5 million dollar home. Pete’s family had been wealthy beyond any of the other brothers’ imagination when they were in college. But his family had recently lost everything because of bad investments, gambling and cocaine addictions. Pete’s house was being foreclosed on and he was too ashamed to show his face at the reunion.

  Donavan wanted to go with his frat brothers to pray for Pete, but how could he do that when he was all messed up himself. “You go ahead. I’ll go to my room, take something for my upset stomach and try to meet you all over there later,” Donavan said and then moved away from his friends as fast as he could. He’d caught a glimpse of the puzzlement on his friends’ faces, but was powerless to do anything about it. He didn’t meet his friends at Pete’s house, and he’d managed to avoid them for the rest of the reunion. Now, a week later he’d strolled into this bar wanting only to get drunk and forget his troubles. But he honestly couldn’t stand the taste of liquor.

  “Why don’t you go back home? Your dad needs you more than ever right now.”

  Donavan stared in the face of the bartender who’d just told him to go home and asked, “How do you know my father?”

  The bartender shook himself. He appeared to be dazed and confused. But once he had regained his composure he told Donavan, “I didn’t say anything about your father. I said you need to get off that stool if you’re not going to buy another drink.”

  “Oh,” Donavan said as he got off the stool and attempted to move away from the bar, but before he could move, the televisions that hung above the bar showing football games and music videos all seemed to change at once to a news station. Donavan’s eyes were drawn to the television as he listened to a female news reporter say, “The infamous Ohio preacher, Isaac Walker has just been arraigned on the charge of murder. Apparently the district attorney’s office believes Pastor Walker murdered one of his church members. I’m also told that there may be more charges to come.”

  The woman turned away from the camera as the doors of the Dayton Municipal Court House opened and Isaac, Nina and Iona walked out. “Why did you murder that young man, Pastor Walker?” the eager young reporter asked.

  Isaac stopped, turned toward the cameras and said, “I am not this monster you believe me to be. I love this city and the people in it. I have worked for decades to try and make it a better place for all of us. I could never harm Dwight or anyone else.”

  What’s going on here? Donavan wondered. First the bartender told him that his father needed him and now he was watching his father walk out of a police station being accused of murder. Donavan lowered his head; ashamed of the fact that his father now needed his prayers. But he was all prayed out; couldn’t get a word to God if he rode on Elijah’s coat tails as the Old Testament prophet guided his chariot all the way to heaven.

  Chapter 20

  Instead of being able to spend three weeks with her mother, Iona would have to break up her time between her mother and father. Her father’s pre-trial hearing was next week, so she would go back to Dayton for that, and then come back to Chicago and finish her visit with her mother. Iona had asked Neil to find Larry Harris so they could try to find out who hired him to frame her father. So she would have to leave Chicago if Neil manage
d to locate Larry, the contract killer. There was one silver lining in all of this though; her mother was up and walking around. Another one of God’s miracles?

  Iona started unpacking her suitcase, putting her things away when her mother came into her room. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Go? Go where?” Iona asked.

  Cynda leaned against the door jam and smiled at her daughter. “You said that you would go to the Prayer Journey if I was able to go with you.” Cynda spread her arms as if to say ‘Ta-Da’. “I’m ready to go. The journey starts at ten this morning, so you’ve got about twenty minutes to get ready and then meet me downstairs.”

  Downstairs? That’s right, her mother had climbed the stairs. “Are you supposed to be climbing stairs, Mother? Do you think you’re well enough for all this?”

  “Keith bought me a wheelchair, so I’m going to ride in it as we go through the Prayer Journey.”

  “Okay, I’ll be down in fifteen minutes,” Iona told her. She showered and threw on a sweatshirt and pair of jeans just as her cell rang. She started not to answer it, but when she looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Donavan, she hurriedly pushed the talk button.

  She plastered a smile on her face as she said, “Hey Golden Bsoy, is that you?”

  Iona heard a quick intake of breath on the other line and then the line went dead.

  “Oh no, what did I do?” Iona asked herself as she dialed her brother’s number. He didn’t answer, so she hung up and redialed. Still no answer so she left him a message. “Donavan, I didn’t mean anything by the ‘Golden Boy’ comment. I was just joking with you. I love you, Donavan, okay? Please call me back. Daddy and Nina-mama need you with them.” She closed her flip phone and headed downstairs. As much as she would like to call and leave dozens of messages on Donavan’s phone, she had to focus on her mother right now.

  When she got downstairs, she walked into the family room to find her mother kneeling on the floor in prayer. Iona thought about the other day when she met Nina at the police station and how Nina told her that she never leaves her house without praying. Iona wondered if she should pray for Donavan before leaving the house, but she let that thought die an easy death.

  Keith drove them to the church and took the wheelchair out of the trunk, carefully locked it in place and then helped Cynda climb aboard.

  Cynda told him that they would be ready to go in about two hours, and Iona almost got back in the car and demanded to be taken home. But Cynda looked at her and said, “You’ll enjoy it. I promise.”

  The Prayer Journey was made up of six different stages. There was a different room assigned for each stage of the journey. In the first room tubs of water with drying towels lined the floor and soft, soothing Christian music could be heard throughout the room. The water was for feet washing, like how Jesus washed the disciples’ feet in the Bible. The instructor told them to grab a partner and wash that person’s feet and then switch and allow the same to be done for them.

  Iona washed her mother’s feet, being careful to be gentle she asked, “Am I rubbing your feet too hard?”

  “No bBaby, you’re doing just fine,” Cynda told her.

  They switched spots and Cynda began washing Iona’s feet. At the moment her mother sprinkled water atop her feet, Iona felt a type of cleansing; as if a breeze of fresh air had swept through her very being. She shivered.

  “Are you okay?” Cynda asked.

  “Yes, of course. I’m fine,” Iona told her as Cynda wrapped her feet in a towel and dried them. They put their shoes back on and were escorted to the next room in the journey.

  They went into the Who Am I room. In this room, tables and chairs lined the walls. On the table was a can of play dough. Iona picked up the can, looked at Cynda and mouthed, “What are we supposed to do with this?”

  Cynda hunched her shoulders.

  The instructor closed the door as the last participant entered the room. “Hello everyone, and may you have a God blessed day!” the woman said in the most soothing voice Iona had ever heard. “Sometimes in life people try to mold us into what they want us to be,” the woman began. “Sometimes we even create an image for the world to see, when inside we are something totally different. Today we are asking you to mold yourself. Take the clay out of the can and create the person you are behind closed doors; the person that you don’t allow anyone to see. And don’t worry; nobody will see your creation but you. So go on, get started.”

  Iona looked at the round blob of clay in her hands and could think of nothing to form this clay into. She sat it on the table, wanting desperately to get up and walk out of this room. But when she looked over at her mother and saw how earnestly she was working her clay into something, she decided that she wouldn’t let Cynda down. She closed her eyes and began to earnestly search the secrets of her heart. Who was she? Not who she allowed others to see, like the self-assured woman in charge that she let everyone else see, but what did she think of herself when she was alone and no one was watching?

  Iona picked the clay up and mashed it in her hands; all the while asking herself again and again, who am I? Who am I? She put the clay on the table and stared at it. Within the flattened out blob of clay Iona saw lies, deceit and greed. In truth, she saw the monster that she had become and it sickened her. She began to form the clay into blobs of the hideous, lying, deceitful monster she knew herself to be. When she finished she stood up and walked out of the room. She went into the bathroom, locked herself in and allowed the tears to fall as she leaned against the door. She put her hand over her mouth to hold in the sobs that were threatening to seep out.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door. Iona wiped the tears from her eyes, ran some cold water and splashed it on her face. Another knock on the door and then Iona heard her mother ask, “Are you in there, Iona?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right out,” Iona told her as she dried her face and opened the door. She grabbed hold of her mother’s wheelchair and pushed her to the next room. There were mounds and mounds of rocks piled around a fountain of living water in this room. At least that’s what the sign called the water that flowed in the fountain. No tables were in this room, only chairs; and there were small baskets next to each chair.

  The instructor told them, “The chairs you see are not for sitting, they are for you to kneel in front of and bow your head and pray. But what we want you to do when you pray in this room is to ask God to show you the different people that you may be angry with. Once you figure out who those people are, forgive them. If, however, you are unable to forgive, you need to pick up the basket next to your chair and put a rock in it for each person you just couldn’t forgive.”

  Iona felt as if she might as well forget the prayer and just march right on over to the rock formation and pick up about ten or twelve rocks and go bust a few people in the head with them. But she had one problem. There was one on her list that she couldn’t simply hit in the head and call it a day. Iona fell on her knees in front of her chair and confessed to the Lord that she was angry with Him. “You left me on my own and expected me to do the right thing. You didn’t look out for my mother, father or my brother, but You still expect me to praise You.” She was crying again as she continued to silently pray and tell God how much she hurt. She then felt a warmth she’d never known before cover her body. Iona couldn’t explain it, but it felt like love; like compassion. And it made her cry all the more; made her sad for not wanting to draw nearer to God for so many of her adult years. And she found herself saying, “I’m sorry, Lord. I’m so sorry. I forgive You.” And at that moment, she had finally allowed the Lord to love on her.

  She lifted her head and noticed that Cynda was rolling her wheelchair out of the room and heading to the next room without her. Iona got up, and as she passed the rocks, she realized that she hadn’t prayed about any of the people on earth that she had problems with. She’d gotten things right with God, but…

  She walked back over to her chair, picked up her basket and then stood in
front of the rocks. It hadn’t escaped Iona’s attention that her mother didn’t need to pick up any rocks, but Iona sure needed the rocks. She put one in her basket for Johnny; three for her mother’s sons, one for Diana Milner, the treacherous woman who caused Donavan to fall; and another one for the maniac that was trying to frame her father. She even put a rock in her basket for Donavan. She was angry at him for being a coward and running away when things got a little hard for him. Some Golden Boy.

  By the time Iona reached the Cleansing room, she had six rocks in her basket. She sat down in the cleansing room and prayed for the people she hadn’t been able to forgive. There was a basket in this room and one in every other room on the journey the instructor told them. Once the participant was able to forgive one of the members of their rock collection, that rock was to be tossed into the basket and they would then move to the next room. Iona realized that the easiest rocks to deal with were the ones she put in her basket for her three younger brothers. They hadn’t done anything to her. Their biggest crime to date was that of being born. Iona decided that she would no longer hold that against them. She put Junior’s rock in the basket and then Joseph’s and Caleb’s. But those were the only rocks she was able to drop in the Cleansing room.

  The next stop was the Deliverance room. This room was for things that ailed you. This room was treated like a doctor’s office. Iona figured that she needed this room most since she still had four rocks in her basket. She sat in the waiting room with other people waiting to be seen. She was handed a clipboard with a piece of paper attached to it. On the paper, Iona was supposed to write down some of the issues she discovered she needed prayer to overcome. There was also a spot for her to write down the list of people she had not yet forgiven. She wrote all her information down, like the fact that she needed prayer for her deceitful, greedy ways. Iona also made sure to put down Johnny, Donavan and Diana as the three people she still had problems with. She didn’t bother to put down the maniac that was trying to frame her father for murder, partly because she couldn’t put a name with her anger and partly because she knew she’d never forgive that evil person until he was caught and prosecuted.