LXXIX

IN ALL THESE THINGS WE ARE MORE THAN CONQUERORS THROUGH HIM THAT LOVED US

ROMANS 8:37

PASTOR KIRK SAMSON (AKA CAPTAIN KIRK)

I hated to think about my Vietnam war experiences, let alone talk about them. Yet I had offered to do just that.  Now two teenage girls sat across from me, my desk separating us, as they looked hopefully at me. Why had I suggested this? Was it some subconscious need to unburden my soul? Was it wise to have invited Marcy? Would my story help or hinder her troubled soul? Yet I felt like I needed to tell both young ladies for some reason. As the apostle Paul might say, ‘God Knoweth.’

I looked back and forth between the two girls. Sevenia was known by many as the girl prophetess, and with good reason. Although only seventeen, she was like an assistant pastor at Cotton Creek Cove. For the last two years she had become my number one go to person to discuss both church and spiritual matters.

Sixteen year old Marcy had had a difficult life. She was raised by various foster parents and, until recently, had been a victim of human trafficking for the previous two years. Thank the Lord, Brock and Destiny Knight-Storm were now her foster parents and working toward adoption, along with a cute eight year old little pistol named Oralee.

“If you don’t feel comfortable,” Sevenia said. “You don’t have to talk about it, Grandpa.”

I felt my brows go up, and my eyes widen. Sevenia had never called me Grandpa before. Minutes ago, before we settled in my office, Marcy had shared a dream she had with us. In it she had called me Grandpa. In the exchange that followed, I encouraged Marcy to call me Grandpa if she felt so inclined. I told her I would be honored.

“No, I’d be glad…” I began, but stopped and began again. “No, glad’s not the right word. For some reason I felt a need to tell you about this situation, Sevenia. Now you as well, Marcy. So, even though I don’t understand why, let’s get this over with.”

“You’re making me feel like we’re eavesdropping,” Sevenia said with both a frown and a smile.

“No, no, I don’t mean to,” I said, waving my hands about. This gesture usually, and unintentionally, makes Sevenia giggle with her calling me a nutty professor. So be it. “Where do I begin?”

“How about the beginning?” Sevenia said lightheartedly.

“The question is, where is the beginning?”

“Only you know that, Captain Crunch,” Sevenia said.

Did Sevenia decide to stop calling me Grandpa already? Oh well, it is what it is, as they say nowadays. I glanced at Marcy. Although her eyes no longer looked as haunted, her earnest gaze still reminded me of Sherry Drummond. I filled her in on Corporal Timothy Williams and his fiancée Sherry Drummond. I showed her the letter Timmy sent me, where he feared he wouldn’t make it home alive and asked me to go see Sherry. I told her he didn’t and that I did.

Unlike Sevenia shedding a few tears, Marcy’s face looked hard and impassive as she handed me the letter back. Now I really questioned the wisdom of inviting her here for story time. I told her as much, and thankfully, she set my mind at ease.

“No, Grandpa,” she said, taking my hand, her lip trembling slightly. “I feel privileged that you are willing to, um, share something so painful with me. Maybe this is selfish, but it helps in a bizarre way to, you know… like… realize I’m not the only one that’s been through some really ugly stuff in life.”

“Alrighty then,” I said and then sighed. “The day I went to see Sherry was a beautiful spring day. It was picture perfect, sunny with a high of seventy-five. Big puffy white clouds floating slow and easy across a bright blue sky. I couldn’t tell if the nice weather mocked our pain, or whether the weather was a balm for our wounded emotions.

“Where did she live?” Marcy asked quietly.

“Sherry and Tim were from Hannibal, Missouri,” I replied. “I was temporarily stationed in Washington D.C.”

“Where are you from originally?” Marcy asked, and then gave a little smile. “I guess I should know stuff like that if you’re gonna be my Grandpa.”

I chuckled. “You’re sitting where I’m from.”

“Huh?” Marcy frowned.

Sevenia giggled, and then explained it to her. “This was part of the Pastor’s family farm. This church building used to be a barn. Pastor renovated it into a house of worship and fellowship.”

“Wow, I thought it looked kinda barnish,” Marcy replied happily.

The girl’s mood seemed so cheery of a sudden that I hated to darken it with my tale about Sherry Drummond. However, I opened my yap to get it over with, but Sevenia interrupted. “You know, Grandpa, you should right your bio before you… Um…”

“Kick the bucket,” I laughed. Her calling me Grandpa a second time helped ease the tension I was feeling.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Sevenia said with a shrug and a grin, then she took hold of my hand. “Sorry to interrupt, please continue.”

“Thank you, my dear,” I replied, giving her hand a squeeze. “Okay, so meeting Sherry and her family was the most awkward self-introduction I had ever made, especially when her sister answered the door and exhibited open hostility toward me. I didn’t take it personally, though. Judging by her hippie like appearance, I intuited that she was a protester of the war.

“I was thankful I didn’t wear my uniform, even though on this type of visit, it was expected by my superiors. It also would have been frowned on if I shared my own feelings that were somewhat in harmony with Sherry’s sister. That the war was a political catastrophe, which I completely agreed on with her.

“But the young noble men who died for it did not deserve to be mistreated, spit upon and such when those that survived returned home, after they had already been through hell. Like that band Me 2 sang in their song ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday.’ I believe they were singing about political or military leaders when they said, ‘We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.’ Regardless of what they were singing about, that song makes me think of Vietnam.”

“U2, Sir,” Sevenia said.

“Huh? Me too what?”

“The band I believe you were referring to is called U2, not Me 2,” Sevenia informed me as she giggled.

“Oh, well, okay, you get the point though?”

“Yes,” the two girls said in unison.

“Okay, where was I?”

“Sherry Drummond’s sister opened the door with a hostile attitude,” Sevenia said.

“Yes, right, so I thought, well this is going to be one ugly visit. But Sherry, just like Timmy had told me, was a sweet and sensitive soul. She was a lovely, modest young lady who looked like she could have been in the cast of ‘Little House On the Prairie.’ Do you know ‘Little House On the Prairie’?”

“Yes, the old TV show,” Sevenia replied, as Marcy shook her head. Sevenia gave her a quick synopsis of the program.

“Are you sure I got the name right?” I asked with a grin.

“Pretty sure,” Sevenia smiled teasingly. “Even though the show was before my time.”

“And Me 2 isn’t?”

“I never heard of Me 2,” Sevenia replied with a giggle.

 “Anyway, Sherry and I went for a walk to a nearby park and obviously discussed Timmy. She talked about what a wonderful boyfriend he was. Thoughtful, well liked, smart, good athlete. She recalled going to homecoming and prom. She told me of their plans to marry, and his intention to take over his father’s auto shop when he returned from the war.

“I told Sherry of Timmy’s bravery. I told her of the comradery he shared with his fellow soldiers. I told her he often mentioned her in our conversations. When we got back to her house, it was a big, old yellow Victorian, by the way. Very appropriate for the town that was home to the author of ‘Tom Sawyer.’

“We sat on a swing that hung from a big, wide tree with thick low branches. It was a rather quaint setting. She told me Timmy proposed to her in that very spot. During our conversation, although her eyes were incredibly sad and red rimmed, she smiled often and even lightly laughed a few times. It was sitting there on that swing, right after she told me Timmy proposed marriage to her, that I made a huge mistake. I gave her the letter Timmy wrote me. The one… The one…”

I pinched my nose and bowed my head, composing myself.

“The one where he said he didn’t think he would make it home. The one where he told Sherry to love again,” Sevenia said softly.

I nodded. “She lost it! She began sobbing loudly and uncontrollably for a long time. I’m ashamed to admit, I kept looking at the house, expecting her sister to come charging out. It seemed she cried for hours.”

“Wow, she cried for hours?” Sevenia said.

“No, no, I was exaggerating,” I clarified. “It was probably only five or ten minutes, it just seemed like hours. But the funny thing is, when she finished, she seemed so peaceful, even happy. However, her eyes were still haunted. I figured maybe she achieved a first step toward closure. In hindsight, I think it was acceptance of what she intended to do after I left. I think I killed her by giving her a letter.”

“No, Pastor!” Sevenia declared like an order. “You did not kill that young woman by giving her that letter. What else could you have done? You were honoring a soldier’s request. What else could you have done?”

“Waited,” I replied. “Hindsight is 20/20. I should have given her plenty of time to grieve. After all, Timmy’s letter didn’t have a timeline. But I guess in my own grief, I wanted to let her know as soon as possible.”

“Did you see any of Timothy’s family?” Sevenia asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, when I was done with Sherry, I paid his parents a visit.”

“How did that go?”

“It was awful,” I said, and sighed. “But they were polite, and glad to hear what an honorable soldier he was.”

We were silent for a moment, then Sevenia asked. “Did you go to their funerals? Sherry and Timothy’s?”

“I came back for Timmy’s,” I replied. “But I didn’t think it was a good idea to attend Sherry’s. I figured I would have just added to the pain. Especially her sister’s.”

I glanced at Marcy. Her gaze seemed sympathetic, God bless her, but she looked at her lap after we made eye contact. I was thankful her eyes didn’t look nearly as haunted anymore. I prayed she would continue to progress. That living with Destiny, Brock, and Oralee, her new family, her loving family, would prove to be a blessing.

I felt a lump in my throat when I remembered just recently when I met Marcy for the first time. That haunted look in her eyes, so eerily similar to Sherry’s. I believe it triggered the dream I had the other night. But that nightmare also had some help. I reached into my desk drawer, pulled out a letter and handed it to Sevenia.

“What’s this?” She asked as she began to read it. “Who’s Roger Nelson?”

“The son of Sherry’s hostile sister,” I replied. “Sherry’s sister’s name is Susan Nelson, by the way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m trying to understand myself,” I replied and then sighed. “It seems Corporal Timothy Williams impregnated Susan when he was home on leave.”

“But… Sherry… I thought he and Sherry were the couple,” Sevenia said with a deep frown, as Marcy gazed at me with her mouth hanging open.

“Susan, aka Sherry’s hostile sister, wants to explain,” I explained. “I understand she has a pretty serious illness and wants to talk with me. She wants to set some record straight. A record I never even knew existed.”

“Like, a, ah, death bed confession or something?” Sevenia asked.

“Or something,” I said, sighed and bowed my head.

(DESTINY’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

Many, especially those who are young in the Christian life, are at times troubled with the suggestions of skepticism. There are in the Bible many things which they cannot explain, or even understand, and Satan employs these to shake their faith in the Scriptures as a revelation from God.

Yet God has never removed the possibility of doubt. Our faith must rest upon evidence, not demonstration.

It is impossible for finite minds to fully comprehend the character or the works of the Infinite One.

The word of God, like the character of its Divine Author, presents mysteries that can never fully be comprehended by finite beings. The entrance of sin into the world, the incarnation of Christ, regeneration, the resurrection, and many other subjects presented in the Bible, are mysteries too deep for the human mind to explain, or even fully comprehend.

The very humblest forms of life present a problem that the smartest of people are powerless to explain, the wisest of philosophers to decipher. Everywhere are wonders beyond our ken. Should we then be surprised that in the spiritual world also there are mysteries that we cannot fathom?

The difficulties of Scripture have been urged by skeptics as an argument against the Bible. But the very grandeur and mystery of themes presented should inspire faith in it as the word of God.

In the Bible, the plan of redemption is laid open to us, so that every soul may see the steps they are to take in repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.

The more we research the Bible, the deeper will be our conviction that it is the word of the living God, and human reason bows before the majesty of divine revelation.

Because they cannot fathom all its mysteries, the skeptic and the infidel reject God’s word, and not all who profess to believe the Bible are free from danger on this point.

The apostle says, “Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God.” Hebrews 3:12

A sense of the power and wisdom of God, and our inability to comprehend His greatness, should inspire us with humility, and we should open His word, as we would enter His presence, with holy awe.

People may disguise it, but in most cases, the real cause of doubt and skepticism is simply a love of sin.

Give heed to the light that already shines upon you, and you will receive greater light.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.” Psalm 34:8. Instead of depending on the word of another, we are to taste for ourselves. He declares “Ask and you shall receive.” John 16:24. His promises will be fulfilled. They have never failed, they never can fail. And as we draw near to Jesus, and rejoice in the fulness of His love, our doubt and darkness will disappear in the light of His presence.

By faith we may look to the hereafter and grasp the pledge of God for growth and intellect, the human faculties uniting with the divine, and every power of the soul being brought into direct contact with the Source of light. We may rejoice that all which has perplexed us in the providences of God will then be made plain, things hard to be understood will then find an explanation; and where our finite minds discovered only confusion and broken purposes, we shall see the most perfect and beautiful harmony.

“Now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” 1 Corinthians 13:12

Do you ask me why I believe in Jesus? Because He is to me a divine Savior. Why do I believe the Bible? Because I have found it to be the voice of God to my soul.