Part 15 (2/2)

Dad asked, ”Do they know you're coming? Have you written to them or called them?”

”No. I'm trusting G.o.d. It's all in his hands.”

I told them how my last paycheck from the s.h.i.+pyard should be enough for a train ticket over there.

”Where will you stay?” Dad asked.

”Oh, G.o.d has that all figured out. I'm just supposed to obey and go.”

I told them about the visions, and Mom got tears in her eyes. Apparently she was deeply moved by the miraculous touch of G.o.d upon my life.

”I'm ready to step out in faith,” I said. ”I'm ready to believe G.o.d and go to Minneapolis.”

”Okay,” Dad said. ”Just be sure to buy a round-trip ticket.”

I left Seattle on a Sunday afternoon. Before the train was to leave, I took the bus up to the north end of Seattle to say good-bye to Amber. It was a tearful good-bye, but a moment filled with holy expectation. We knelt together on the floor of her grandmother's living room, our hands clasped in prayer, and praised the Lord for this moment, this launching of a great mission. I paraphrased the Lord's words as I told her, ”I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again to receive you, that where I am, there you may be also.”

”I'll wait for you,” she replied, but her voice trembled a little. Was it hesitation? Doubt? No, it couldn't be. Just emotion, that was all. Antic.i.p.ation of the great things G.o.d was about to do. Then we kissed in the name of Jesus. Her kiss was less fervent than usual, but I pushed the nagging thought out of my mind. This was G.o.d's will. I would go and find my place, I would send for her, and we would live together forever in service to the Lord.

With pack on my back, s.h.i.+pyard clothes on my body, and banjo and briefcase in my hands, I caught the bus heading south to the King Street Station. By four o'clock I was on a train bound for Minneapolis.

By now it was October. When the train arrived in Minneapolis on Monday, the leaves of Minnesota were in their fall brilliance and the wind was cold. As the train pulled into the station I looked across the railroad yard and there it was, just as I had expected: a big railroad boxcar with the letter ”I” on it. G.o.d had spoken! He was with me! I was moving in the realm of the miraculous!

The city was big, busy, and totally alien to me. I had the address of the Billy Graham Evangelistic a.s.sociation written on a piece of paper, so with directions from a porter at the train station, I set out walking, the very picture of a homeless vagabond.

I never got lost, not with the Lord guiding my every step, my every turn. Sometimes a cloud overhead would take on a shape to point the way. Once, a construction crane pointed left like a huge finger and I followed. I walked for hours and saw a lot of the city. Then I came upon Hennepin Avenue and knew I was closing in on Canaan. G.o.d was faithful. Following the street numbers in descending order, I walked and walked, block by block, until I came to the front door of the Billy Graham Evangelistic a.s.sociation.

This was the moment, and suddenly I felt nervous. How was my faith? Did I still believe? I felt a little doubt, but refused to acknowledge it. A doubt just like this one may have kept Andy Smith from being healed, I reminded myself. There was no room for doubt in the service of the Lord, only belief.

Drawing upon the Lord for courage, I opened the door, and went inside.

The receptionist, a nice lady in a white silk blouse and navy skirt, looked up from her desk. I smiled at her the way Jesus must have smiled to those who were hurting. Perhaps the Lord was going to give me a word to share with her, a touch of healing, a message of hope.

”Would you like to talk to one of our counselors?” she asked.

Well, she must have been doing all right and didn't need a special touch from G.o.d today. I said, ”Sure,” and she placed a call.

A nice man dressed in a suit and tie came into the lobby, shook my hand, and directed me into a conference room. He had black, curly hair and a moustache and I'd never seen him on television. When he introduced himself, I didn't recognize his name. When I introduced myself, he didn't seem to recognize my name either, and he didn't seem to be expecting me. Somehow we got on the subject of happiness, and from there he began to ask me what my idea of happiness was. By the time he asked me how I thought I could obtain happiness, I figured he was getting ready to share the gospel with me.

”Oh, I'm already saved,” I told him, and then figured it was time to enlighten him and get this meeting on the right track. I recounted the previous months of seeking and hearing from G.o.d-the signs and visions, the prophecies, the fleece. I knew he would be impressed.

Well . . . he didn't break down crying or anything. But he did invite me to pray with him as he asked the Lord to bless and guide me. Then he led me to the receptionist's desk and told her I would need an application.

The receptionist disappeared behind a set of double doors and came back with an application form several pages long. I took it and sat on the couch again.

And then I stared at it. An application? I had not seen this in any of my visions, nor heard about it in any of my prophecies. I began to try to fill it out, and it started badgering me about my education and experience. There were no blanks to fill in anywhere regarding my prophetic gifts, my preaching and teaching ability, or even my banjo playing.

At last I finished, saying all I could say about myself, which wasn't very much, then went back to the receptionist and handed the application to her. She thanked me for my interest, told me there were no openings at the present time, and pressed a buzzer to let me out.

That was it? My big calling from G.o.d? It was over?

Faith, I reminded myself. You've got to have faith. There had to be another door of opportunity somewhere. G.o.d wouldn't send me clear across the country just to fill out an application and be turned away.

I recalled seeing the offices of World Wide Pictures on the other side of the building, around the block. That had to be it. I wasn't supposed to work in Billy Graham's office anyway. I was an actor, an artist, a musician. I could serve G.o.d in the movies. I started walking.

The World Wide Pictures office turned out to be smaller than Billy Graham's office, and I quickly realized that they didn't make the movies there. But I pressed on, introduced myself to another lady receptionist, and got myself another meeting with another well-qualified and experienced man in a suit and tie. I repeated my story -the months of seeking and hearing from G.o.d, the visions and prophecies Amber and I had received, the vision of the banjo stretching across the country, the prophecy I scribbled on the wall just like G.o.d did in the Book of Daniel. All of it.

He told me he was happy about all the wonderful things G.o.d had done in my life, but he just didn't have any positions available.

I was in and out of there in less than fifteen minutes.

I spent the night at the Y, and when morning came, I was still a man of faith, trusting G.o.d to complete his purpose, but not having the slightest clue why I should remain in Minneapolis. I walked back across town to the train station and used the other half of my round-trip ticket. As the train rolled westward, the long, seemingly pointless journey began to make sense. G.o.d was testing me just as he tested Abraham, to see if I would obey. Of course. Sometimes G.o.d asks us to do things that don't make a lot of sense just to see how devoted and obedient we are. Well, I was sure I pa.s.sed the test, and that meant G.o.d could trust me with the next step. I couldn't wait to get home and tell Amber.

In Seattle, I went straight from the train station and caught a bus to the north end of the city, where Amber lived with her grandmother. I didn't know if she would be home or in cla.s.ses at the university, but I got right out there anyway, knowing it was all in G.o.d's hands.

Amber was home. My heart soared. I hugged her and kissed her and praised the Lord.

Her embrace was not so enthusiastic, and she quickly let it fall away as she asked, ”Well? Tell me what happened.”

I told her about my two brief visits in the offices on Hennepin Avenue and how they turned out. Then I added how G.o.d had set this whole thing up as a test of my faith. ”I pa.s.sed the test,” I said, ”and that can only mean that wonderful things are in store.”

She nodded as if she knew all along what G.o.d would do. Then she scribbled a little note and handed it to me.

She was resigning.

Although I'd been through some very abrupt changes in the plan over the past few days, I still wasn't used to it. I had to ask her what she meant, and she had to tell me in several different ways. She didn't want to be my helpmate anymore. She no longer saw things my way. It would be foolish for us to get married. She wanted to pursue her education. There was no way our relations.h.i.+p would work out. We were through.

Standing in her grandmother's living room with that note in my hand was like standing in that lobby in Minneapolis. No position available. No reason to stay. Dead end. I did the same thing here as there. I responded in faith, seeing the miraculous hand of G.o.d even in this. I smiled, put the note in my s.h.i.+rt pocket, and spoke prophetically, ”You'll come back, and I'll wait for you.”

I HAD IT ALL PLANNED. I would give Amber some time to listen to the Lord and sort it all out, then go to see her on Christmas Eve, the ideal day for a heartwarming, tear-jerky reunion. I bought her a beautiful Bible. I found just the right spot in a nearby park where we could walk, talk, and embrace. I could see in my mind how she would run into my arms and kiss me, big fluffy snowflakes falling all around us.

On Christmas Eve, I fasted and prayed all day. Nothing had worked out from high school graduation up to this point, but now the time of testing was over, now would be the big turnaround. Now all my faith would be rewarded and the world would know that there was a G.o.d!

When I knocked on the door, her gift in my hand, she wasn't even there. Her grandmother told me she was over at her boyfriend's house and would be spending Christmas with him and his family. I left the Bible with the grandmother and walked back to the bus stop, taking a short side trip through the park where the tear-jerky reunion scene would never happen.

We didn't even get fluffy snow that day. It was raining.

In mid-January, I had my very last conversation with her by telephone. She thanked me for the Bible and said she planned to use it in her Bible as Literature cla.s.s at the university. Apart from that, she had no other use for it. Christianity was fine for me, but not right for her. She and her boyfriend were now attending a Unitarian church and she felt far more comfortable with that.

How can I say it? Finally, my foot came off the throttle. The wind went out of my sails. My boiler blew a rivet.

It was a moment, that's all, a precise point in time when, at long last, a different kind of belief broke through to me. For the first time, I actually believed her.

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