Chapter 67

The next morning when I woke up, Caesar was at my side like usual and after I got dressed and took him downstairs to go potty, we came back upstairs and went back to bed. I lie on my side looking out the window. My mind was wandering around the world and I wasn't thinking about much

SAM: You need to go on a drive honey.

It caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting anything from Sam so I instinctively asked, "Where to?"

SAM: Downtown.

That is strange. I know that I haven't asked a question when Sam talks to me, but having her answer me like that is enough for me to get off my butt and into my car. Quick shower, get dressed in jeans with my favorite knock around jacket and out the door. I head downstairs and approach my Jeep and click the unlock button. SQUEEK SQUEEK My Porsche unlocks. I look at my hand and find my Porsche key. "I could have sworn that I grabbed my Jeep key." I shrug my shoulders and climb in behind the wheel of my Porsche and head out.

I drive through the city streets watching the people on the street and watching the world pass me by. I arrive downtown but not knowing where I was going I made a few loops through the streets not really going anywhere. So I give up going around in circles and head for home. I check the street signs and I head East to get back on the highway but of course, the road I'm on doesn't have an exit ramp and I cross over the highway to the 'wrong side of the tracks.' Crap.

I get to an intersection that I know nothing about and my car sputters. I rescue it by shifting into neutral and give it some gas, the engine comes back and I make it through the intersection and across the road. It sputters again and this time dies. With momentum, I pull over the side of the road and get parked. I try to start it but all I get is the starter motor grinding. 'Crap.'

So, one rich white guy in a 100 thousand dollar car in the wrong side of tracks. What next?

I reach for my cell phone in my back pocket, but all I find is my handkerchief. 'double crap.' I look around and find a large brick building next to me with a sign over the door announcing "Rescue Mission", "All Welcome." I get out and squeek the car alarm and cross the street. There are a few men sitting around all dirty and looking destitute. A few of them take notice of me but otherwise, no one bothers me. The door has a sign saying that lunch is served at 12:30, dinner is served at 6. no weapons are allowed and no cussing and fussing or no help. 'that shouldn't be a problem for me.'

I walk in and a voice hollars, "We ain't open for lunch yet, please wait outside!"

I turn to the voice and am greeted by an older black woman. "No, I just need a phone. My car died outside."

She looks me over then says to me, "Phone is in the office down the hall." She turns and with a huff walks away.

I walk down the hallway to the office, which is not very much of an office if you ask me. I lean in the window and spot someone sitting at a desk working away. "Excuse me, can I use your phone to call for a tow truck?"

The woman working at the desk looks up from what she was doing and looks at me. She evaluates me for a minute and waves me in. The lock buzzes on the door and I push it open. "Thanks. My car died outside and I somehow managed to leave my place without my phone."

"Yes, happens to everybody. Here is the phone." She pushes to me a rotary dial phone. Ancient.

I pick it up and stop. I didn't have a phone number. "Can I use a phone book?"

The lady pulls a phone book out from her desk drawer and when I open it, the section for churches is well worn. I move past that to tow trucks and find the one I have used in the past. the conversation is brief with the lady on the phone and I manage to tell them where I am and what car I'm driving. I notice out of the corner of my eye the lady I'm standing next to stop working when I said Porsche. She casually got up from her desk and went through a door in the back of the room. I finished my phone call, thanked the lady on the phone and hung up.

The lady, whose phone I was using, came back in along with an elderly gentleman from the back office. "Good morning. I'm Pastor Clinton. Everything ok with you?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for letting me call for a tow truck. My car broke down right outside of your building. Darn the luck."

"It is not luck that you are here. You need to be here and I am very happy to see you."

We shook hands as I looked into his tired old eyes. Tired, but still full of life and joy. "Well here I am. Why do you say I need to be here?"

He didn't say anything but took my elbow and led me out of the office and further down the hall deeper into the building. "Let me introduce you to some of the people in the kitchen. They are going to be so happy to see you."

I yanked my arm from his grasp and stopped. "Sir, please explain yourself before I walk out the door."

Pastor Clinton looked past me and then down the hallway. "An angel told me you were coming and that you needed to help serve lunch today."

"An angel?" I asked him.

"Yes. When I was praying this morning, an angel told me that stranger was coming today to save a soul today. No better way to be at the right place at the right time to save a soul than serving lunch. So, please follow me so we can get you ready for lunch."

I looked this old man over. Dry skin over bony hands. Shirt clean but old with pants where the knees were worn out and patched. The toes on his shoes were scuffed and worn. Worn knees on pants and scuffed toes on your shoes are sure signs of someone who spends a lot of time on their knees praying. I smiled and motioned down the hallway and I followed him to the kitchen. "Janice, I have a volunteer here to help with lunch." Pastor Clinton called out when we entered the kitchen.

"Thank you pastor."

"Janice will help get you get plugged in, so just follow her advice." Pastor Clinton turned and left me standing here.

Janice is a portly woman in her 50's, I think. She came over to me and welcomed me. "Glad to see you. Here, let's get you washed up and then you can help bring the food to the serving line. We have only a few hours until everyone comes in for lunch.

I followed the portly woman in through the kitchen to an office where she took my jacket from me and then led me to a washing sink and had me wash my hands all the way up to my elbows. I rolled up my sleeves for washing. she gave me plastic gloves for my hands, a hairnet for my head and a facemask to cover my beard.

She showed me around introducing me to the other people there to help serve lunch. I took trays of hot food from the back to the serving line. Brought out large stacks of clean plastic glasses and more silverware than I could count. Plates, plates and more plates were stacked in their place and then before I knew it, it was 12:30.

Janice had me stand near the salad bar helping the customers with a fresh salad for lunch to go along with the chili, open faced beef sandwiches, tea, water or white milk. They had green beans as well but their quantity wasn't as much as you would expect.

The customers started filing past me, holding out their plates as I moved as quickly as I could making sure everyone got their share of food. I smiled, or tried to smile at everyone as they passed me. Even though my nose was under assault from the smell of people who didn't wake up in a bed and have a shower before running out the door, I found joy serving others.

As the masses passed me by, a face stood out from the crowd. A young white man. I looked at him while trying to place his face and when he got to me, I heard his voice and it dawned on me. The mugger from New Year's Day. "Hi." I said to him.

He briefly looked up and mumbled hi. "We need to talk before you leave here." I said to him.

That caught him off guard and he looked at me again. "Do I know you?" he asked very suspicious of what I was saying.

"Yes we have met but for a very brief time. Will you meet with me?"

He looked both ways and then made up his mind. "Sure."

He moved off filling his plate with the food that the rescue was serving today.

I got to wash dishes. The size of the dishes were quite large but I got to wash them. How funny is that?

When I got done and said goodbye to Janice, I went out into the dining room and found the man who I spoke to earlier. He was sitting with one of the staff members talking about something so I hung back for a minute while they talked.

"Do you remember me? Now?" I asked now that my beard mask and hairnet were off.

His face went ghost white and he tensed up like he was getting ready to leave.

I held up my hands to him, "Wait. I'm not here to do anything to you except help."

He relaxed, a bit. "What do you want?"

"I came here to find you. And before you ask how I found you, don't ask. It is beyond both of us how I managed to find myself here." He relaxed a bit more. "I want to hear more from you, about you before I leave. I want to help you if I can."

"Fine." He told me a tail of being a mechanic working on diesel trucks. He was working retreading tires for the company he was working for and there was some sort of accident and some people died because of a tire I worked on. "I told the manager that the retreads we were getting weren't right. I told them, I told them, I told them that the retreads weren't fitting correctly but they wouldn't listen and made me put those retreads on anyway."

"Why do you say they weren't fitting?"

"Their inside diameter wasn't right for the tires we were working on. Oh they looked like they fit, but when you fill them with air, the retread would pull away from the old tire and after just a while, and it comes off. I worked on them day and night cutting the tires so that they would fit better, but..." He put his face in his hands and got quiet for a minute.

"So a family died because of a retread you worked on killed a family. Right?"

He looked up from his hands. "Yes, how did you know?"

"Well..." I looked down at my hands and shuffled my feet. "I lost my family in a car accident when a retread came off a tire here in town and came through the window and killed my wife and kids."

He looked at me. His mouth fell open. "I saw that on the TV the night it happened. I had hoped that it wasn't traced back to us, but a couple of weeks later I was fired from that job. They said that the accident was because of my shitty work."

I just sat there. I was just as stunned by the turn of events as he was. This man in front of me was directly responsible for killing my family. The rage I should be feeling wasn't there. The desire to rip his head off wasn't there. I cried. The tears welled up in my eyes and started running down my face. The handkerchief I had in my pocket was taken out and I wiped my eyes, but the tears continued to fall.

"I'm sorry about your family. I'm sorry for their death." was all he said to me as the emotions ran through me.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I'm sorry just the same." He picked up the jacket next to him and left me.

I looked around and saw him just about to leave the room. "WAIT!" I got up and raced to him. "Wait. We're not done yet."

"Man, what else do you want with me? Wanna kill me as pay back? Fuck, go right ahead. Better you do than me"

I grabbed him and hugged him. "I forgive you."

He pushed me away. "What do you mean you forgive me? How can you FORGIVE ME FOR KILLING YOUR FAMILY?" He yelled at me. Now he was crying. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I SEE THEIR FACES IN MY DREAMS? HOW MANY TIMES THEIR FACES KEEP ME AWAKE AT NIGHT? HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT YOU FORGIVE ME?!!!"

He was angry, yelling at me and drawing the attention of the other staff members still working the room. he shoved me. "FUCK YOU MAN!!! FUCK YOU!!" He turned to go but I caught him by the shoulder.

"Wait." He shrugged his shoulder and flung his arm at me to get me to leave him alone. His elbow caught me in the cheek and I staggered backward. A staff member saw what happened and ran to us and pushed the man up against the wall and started yelling at him that his language was not right and no fighting in the room. I managed to recover and try to take control.

"Listen to me. I forgive you because Jesus first forgave me. The forgiveness is not mine to give but it comes from Jesus and all you have to do is accept it and be free from your suffering."

He calmed down and looked at me. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I'm completely serious. Punishing yourself is not going to bring them back. They are gone. I have accepted that and have moved on. Now I'm here to make sure that you forgive yourself."

He calmed down enough for the other staff members to let him go. He stood on his own two feet and considered me and what I said. "You can't be serious?"

I asked one of the staff members "Is there a room where we can go and talk?"

"Sure, come with us." The staff member lead the way and my mugger went with us.

" ... when they died, I died. I was lost and only after having my parents kicking me in the pants did I look up and find someone to love again and we are going to get married in June." I said finishing my story about my family.

"So why are you here? How did you know I'm here?"

"This is going to sound strange, but I was told to go for a drive and I took a wrong turn then my car died and I found myself here serving lunch and seeing you in line. Of course Pastor Clinton telling me that I was supposed to be here to save a soul convinced me that I was supposed to be here."

He still didn't act like he trusted me. "What did you say your name was?" He asked me.

"Paul Johnson."

"What was your family's names?"

"My wife's name was Samantha and my two boys were David and Joshua."

He fiddled with his hands turning a ring around in his hands. "My wife left me when I got arrested for mugging you."

"I was going to ask you about that."

"When they took me in, I spent the better part of a month sitting in a cell and when I got in front of a judge, he said time served and I was let go. My wife wasn't in the court room. I didn't have a way to contact her so I've been living on the street ever since. Nowhere to go and no money to get there."

"Are you a pretty good mechanic?"

"Yes I am. ASE certified even."

"Then I have a job for you if you want one."

He looked at me shocked and when the smile came over his face, I knew I had him. "Really?"

"My step daughter wants to race cars and trucks when she gets out of school and I don't know one thing about cars. I need a mechanic to join my organization and help keep the cars and trucks running. Interested?"

"Sure I am."

We shook hands and the deal was done. "One last thing." He sat back down after hearing me speak. "We have to deal with this forgiveness thing."

"Sure, ok. I accept that you are forgiving me, but why should I forgive myself? What do you care?"

"Because not forgiving yourself is like beating yourself after the fact. You have been forgiven. You have no reason to punish yourself. It serves no purpose. I don't want you punished anymore, so why are you continuing to punish yourself?"

He thought about it. He shuffled his feet and looked around. "I don't know."

"Here's more for you to think about. How are you with Jesus?"

His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. "Why are you preaching him?"

"I'm not preaching, I'm asking. Where are you with Jesus?"

"I'm nowhere. He hasn't helped me and I haven't done anything for him. what does it matter?"

Now it was my turn to lean back in my chair and think. "I don't want to preach to you, but it matters after you die."

He snorted at the mere mention of dying. "That's not going to happen for a long time. I don't have to worry about that."

"How do you know that you're not going to die for a while? Has someone in authority told you that you're not going to die?"

"Well no."

"If you don't know when you are going to die, then you need to think about it and plan for it. Because it is going to happen and when it does, well, you will figure out where you stand with Jesus at that time and you will not be happy if you and Jesus aren't together. not happy at all."

This was not going the way I wanted. I got up from my chair and went to the coffee pot in the corner. "Want some?

"No thanks." I finished my coffee and walked around the office. How was I going to reach someone so set against the things of a spiritual nature? So, what was I going to do? I went to a different chair and sat down. I held my foam cup in my hands and bowed my head. I closed my eyes and prayed "Dear Jesus, give me the words you need me to say to reach this soul. My words are nothing; your words are the only ones that matter. Amen." I sat there for a minute longer.

"What did you say your name was?" he asked me.

"My name is Paul Johnson."

He came to the chair next to me, "Paul. It is good to meet you. Thank you for everything but if you will excuse me, I have to be going."

"Ok, fine. Go, but we will be seeing each other again and I will be offering the salvation of Jesus to you again and every time we meet."

He stopped, "Every time we meet you are going to preach this Jesus to me?"

"Yes I will."

He went to the door and put his hand on it but didn't or couldn't turn the knob. "Why the hell are you going to do that?"

"Because it is part of what it means to be saved is to go and find others that God has called to his service. All I'm doing is his work that he has called me to do."

He let go of the knob and paced around the room. He would look at me and then move a little more then finally sit down in a chair. "Tell me what you have to tell me."

So I began telling him the story of God, Jesus and Jesus' death on the cross for the forgiveness of our sins. I laid it out for him. He sat quietly. "Do you have any family?"

"No." He said quietly.

"When you did, did they ever take you to church?"

"Yes, when I was a kid but all I ever saw the worst of the people there. They would gossip, lie and sometimes outright steal from each other. They would sit there in their starched white shirts on Sunday and then forget all about it on Monday. Why would I want to be like them?"

"Well, the people who act like that are not truly saved. They are just as lost as everyone else who doesn't go to church." I took a sip of my coffee. "Where do you go if you are sick?"

"To a doctor of course."

"Where do you go if you are hurt in an accident and nearly dead?"

He looked at me strangely. "To a hospital, the ER if you're really bad off."

"Well a church is the hospital for spiritual problems and Jesus is the head surgeon in that hospital. when you are bad off, you go to church and Jesus works on you. When he is done with you, you are pure as gold and ready for heaven."

He snorted at me. "How pure are you?"

"Not even close."

"Do you still go to church?"

"Yes. As often as I can."

"Is Jesus working on you?"

"Every day."

"What problem is this Jesus working on for you?"

"Sex. Lust. Immorality. The usual."

He laughed at me. "The usual." He laughed again. He then sat down in a chair. "So you think that this Jesus is going to just forgive me. To accept me as I am and that's it?"

"Yes."

"Well that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. What kind of a god takes someone as they are without making them work for their salvation?"

"A God that knows that we can't clean up our own mess because we don't have the resources to get clean. can we clean up mud with muddy water? Can you paint a building white with blue paint? No, you can't just like you can't save yourself when you are stuck in quicksand. No, you need a savior to help you from outside of your life because there is nothing you can do to earn it, nothing you can work for to achieve it. You are stuck."

"Stuck you say?"

"Stuck."

"Nothing I can do to get out of it?"

"Only through Jesus can you get out."

He walked around a little bit more, then sat down in the chair in front of me. "Everything you have told me is the truth?"

"Yes. I have spoken truth to you. I have no reason to lie."

I wish I could read minds. I would love to know what he was thinking. he just sat there, thinking looking around doing what I can only assume was making up his mind.

"I don't know what to do now. I will agree that I am stuck. Stuck in a life that sucks, a lot and I want out of it. I lost my job, my family, my life because of someone else's greed. Everything I had is gone ... how is this Jesus going to help me get it back again?"

"I don't know his plans for you. All I do know is that he has a plan for you, a plan to prosper you and not to harm you. He has a plan for you just like he has a plan for me. They are not the same, but they are plans for us."

"You sure."

"Yes I am."

He dropped his head down and finally spoke the words that I had been waiting for. "Fine. I'll believe and accept this Jesus of yours."

I moved closer to him and took his hands in mine. I wanted to jump up and down and shout from the roof at my joy. I wanted to the whole earth to know that another soul was saved for Jesus. "Then pray with me." He held on to my hands as I held his and we prayed.

"Father, I know that I have broken your laws and my sins have separated me from you. I am truly sorry, and now I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me avoid sinning again. I believe that your son, Jesus Christ died for my sins, was resurrected from the dead, is alive, and hears my prayer. I invite Jesus to become the Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day forward. Please send your Holy Spirit to help me obey You, and to do Your will for the rest of my life. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."

He followed along with me, saying each word right after me. When I said 'Amen', he looked up and had tears in his eyes. "Feel better?"

"Yes, I suppose I do. What should I be feeling?"