JT mustered up a small smile for Bree. “I’d kill him first. Then you could slap him.”
It seemed a slight amount of humor was the only way to cope at this point, even if it felt rather lame. But even though they both wanted desperately to do something – anything – the Elite was doing all they could, leaving them with simply waiting and worrying…
The lights were dim. But not in a scary way. It was more of a warm, soothing light, easy on the eyes and comforting to the soul. The air was just as welcoming, with a scent that would tell any keen mind that they were in an older atmosphere, but it was only because of aged wood, not a lack of upkeep. Mixed in was the sweet smell of candles burning, which also contributed to the glowing light.
Gunner closed his eyes again and curled in a little tighter on the cot. His head hurt too much to lift off the pillow, and the rest of his body ached just as much. Then his nostrils caught a new scent. One that awakened his stomach.
"You're fighting your body's desire to rise and nourish itself. It's a losing battle, unless you wish to fade into an eternal sleep before your time."
Gunner reopened one eye. "Who's to say it's not my time?" His voice was hoarse - a sign he'd used it little the past few days.
"Does the Lord wish his children to give up on the life he's given them? Or worse yet, cause their own death through such means?"
It took several moments but Gunner finally rolled over onto his stomach. He propped his chin up with his pillow and looked off the end of the cot to Father James, who sat at a small table with a steaming bowl of soup. "If he gave me this life, he can have it back."
Father James offered a soft smile. "Was it he who willed the events in your life, or was it the fault of people who make mistakes?"
"Like me?"
"I didn't say that." Father James gestured to the soup. "Come. Eat. You’ve been in bed for two days and it's time to get up."
Gunner didn't want to move. "I'm not hungry."
"You’re gonna lie to me now?"
"I'm not. I don't want to eat."
"Ah. Now that's different. But you need to anyway. So come on. Or I'll remove you from that cot myself."
An ever-so-slight grin seeped onto Gunner's lips. "You always did bully me around."
Father James chuckled. "Only because your hard head needed it."
Gunner sighed deeply and finally sat up. Everything hurt from head to toe, and he groaned. "You sure I didn't already die?"
"Mmm...no, I'd say you've got an awful lot of life left in you."
Despite Gunner’s desire to stay put, he knew he couldn’t. Eventually, he’d have to rise and face the day. Face life again. A few minutes later, he had joined Father James at the table in the small living quarters off the back of the aged but grand structure of beautiful woodwork and stone workmanship. Even he had to admit that the soup tasted good and was helping clear his mind.
Father James leaned forward in the table just studying his younger friend. Gunner had stumbled in a couple days prior, sick with stress and spilling his heart about all that had been happening. It had been late that night when he'd finally fallen asleep, and for two days had only slept, too worn out for anything else.
Gunner ate in silence until he’d reached the bottom of the bowl and set it aside. “Gonna kick me out today?”
“You know I won’t ever kick you out. But I must admit, I’m concerned for those who I’m sure are worried about you.”
“I know.” Gunner’s eyes fell to the table. “I just…I dunno.”
“You know exactly why you’re avoiding those you’re closest to.”
“I do?”
Father James grinned. “I don’t want to sit here all day, so I’ll spell it out for you. Those you’re closest to make you feel most vulnerable – which is normal. But in your vulnerability, you have less control, and the less control you have, the more upset you get.”
Gunner’s eyes remained down. “So…”
“So you’ve got to learn to let go of the need for control. Whether or not you still question the past, blame yourself or not, the past is beyond your control, as are facts you face now. If you can quit trying to control everything, you’ll find that peace you’re looking for… and you’ll be able to face those you love without fighting your vulnerability.”
Gunner was silent for several moments. “Well, alrighty then.”
Father James chuckled. “What? No snippy comeback?”
“I’m too tired.” Gunner set his head down on his arms. “I don’t remember ever being so exhausted.”
“It’s the stress. You’re so strung out, your body can’t function beyond survival. Another reason you need to get this thing under control.”
“By not controlling it,” Gunner mumbled.
“Right.” Father James’ smile returned. “I knew you’d catch on quick.”
Gunner managed a scoff. “Thanks for your confidence.”
“I do have confidence in you, Brent. I always have. Ever since you first came into this church searching for answers, just as you are now.”
“I wish I was still searching for the same thing.” Gunner’s voice was muffled in his arms as he refused to lift his head again. “At least I wouldn’t have the knowledge that my entire wasted life was no one’s fault but my own.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Father James took hold of his shoulder. “Aside from your control issue, you need to let go of your unnecessary guilt. It’s a burden you were not meant to bear. So don’t. Truth or not, let it go. You have to live for your future, not the past.”
Gunner growled in frustration and finally lifted his head. “When I was released from the hospital, all I had was a stuffy, dishonest lawyer to help me. Coming here was a last ditch effort to find some sort of meaning.”
“And did you find it?”
“Yeah. And things made sense til I started questioning what really happened with my parents.”
“The truth you found here has not changed. The power and grace of God do not shift from one minute to the next. The things that made sense to you back then – that helped you sort out your life – those things are still there. You’ve just started focusing on the wrong things.”
“I’ve never left my faith…”
Father James shook his head. “Just because someone doesn’t abandon their belief in God, doesn’t mean they are walking the correct path. Any number of people can say they believe in God, and even have faith in Him. But if they don’t live a life according to His will, they might as well not believe at all.”
He stood and took the empty bowl to a nearby sink. “I’m not saying you walked away from your Christian life or were destined for Hell. But I do think your priorities have been readjusted to the point that you need to get things back in order. Your past is very important to you. I can’t imagine waking up one day and not remembering anything. But your future is what counts. That’s where the life God has given you is. That’s where your fiancé is. That’s where everyone who loves you is. And that’s where your purpose is, should you choose to fulfill it.”
Gunner folded his arms and rested his chin on them, lost in thought as Father James talked. It wasn’t a whole lot different than some of the things Hope had told him. He’d just been unwilling to listen. Or maybe he was just so tired today that he didn’t have the strength to argue anymore…
…It was early evening, and the fog over Gunner’s mind had finally lifted – at least enough that he was able to function again outside the care of Father James for now, and enough to drive. They’d talked all day, and though his spirit was still heavy, at least he had some goals, one of which was being brave enough to return to life again.
He dared a glance at his cell phone as he drove – the first look in days – only to find it completely dead, the battery having long since run out. He imagined there were many messages he’d missed. He knew Bree too well to think she’d just ignored his absence, especially since it had been several days. And while he didn’t think he was important enough to be missed by too many people, he knew in his heart that he’d worried Bree, and he was sorry. He was sorry about a lot of things.
It didn’t take long to reach his destination. His temporary home. Parking out on the curb, he took a moment to just look at the house. And he knew he’d be staying here longer than he liked. But he knew he needed the help. The support.
Moments later, he was inside, but saw no one. It seemed JT was gone, but Bree's car was here. After a brief search, he realized she was out on the back porch. And for a few seconds, he just watched her from behind the glass door. She looked so peaceful, sitting in the evening breeze. And he felt even sorrier for abandoning her like he had.
Slipping silently outside, he approached quietly...carefully. He eased down in the chair next to hers, his tired eyes taking in the setting sun. "Forgive me?"
Jason grinned and shook his head. “I’m glad. Otherwise, I’d be in a heap more trouble than I already am.”
He downed the rest of his coffee and stared at the empty cup. He didn’t really want to call an end to their time here…he’d…enjoyed it. As badly as he felt about everything with Misty, there was a little more peace now. A little more hope that things would be okay.
“Well…I suppose I ought to get home to my pup before he tears my house to shreds.” He looked at Katie once more, his expression a soft one. “Thanks…for being my hero once more.”
Eric was busy enough laughing, talking and eating that he didn’t notice Ashlee until she’d made it to their table. He glanced up quickly, a little surprised after his earlier encounter with her, but just as fast, a new smile appeared.
“Well of course you can sit here.” He pulled out the chair next to him and threw her a wink. “It’s never too late.”
He still had no idea why Ashlee had been so cool with him earlier, but he felt better now that she’d joined them. At least she must not be mad at him like he’d feared.
“So…” He took another bite of garlic bread. “What have you been up to since I left? Been keeping up with your riding?”
It seemed a slight amount of humor was the only way to cope at this point, even if it felt rather lame. But even though they both wanted desperately to do something – anything – the Elite was doing all they could, leaving them with simply waiting and worrying…
The lights were dim. But not in a scary way. It was more of a warm, soothing light, easy on the eyes and comforting to the soul. The air was just as welcoming, with a scent that would tell any keen mind that they were in an older atmosphere, but it was only because of aged wood, not a lack of upkeep. Mixed in was the sweet smell of candles burning, which also contributed to the glowing light.
Gunner closed his eyes again and curled in a little tighter on the cot. His head hurt too much to lift off the pillow, and the rest of his body ached just as much. Then his nostrils caught a new scent. One that awakened his stomach.
"You're fighting your body's desire to rise and nourish itself. It's a losing battle, unless you wish to fade into an eternal sleep before your time."
Gunner reopened one eye. "Who's to say it's not my time?" His voice was hoarse - a sign he'd used it little the past few days.
"Does the Lord wish his children to give up on the life he's given them? Or worse yet, cause their own death through such means?"
It took several moments but Gunner finally rolled over onto his stomach. He propped his chin up with his pillow and looked off the end of the cot to Father James, who sat at a small table with a steaming bowl of soup. "If he gave me this life, he can have it back."
Father James offered a soft smile. "Was it he who willed the events in your life, or was it the fault of people who make mistakes?"
"Like me?"
"I didn't say that." Father James gestured to the soup. "Come. Eat. You’ve been in bed for two days and it's time to get up."
Gunner didn't want to move. "I'm not hungry."
"You’re gonna lie to me now?"
"I'm not. I don't want to eat."
"Ah. Now that's different. But you need to anyway. So come on. Or I'll remove you from that cot myself."
An ever-so-slight grin seeped onto Gunner's lips. "You always did bully me around."
Father James chuckled. "Only because your hard head needed it."
Gunner sighed deeply and finally sat up. Everything hurt from head to toe, and he groaned. "You sure I didn't already die?"
"Mmm...no, I'd say you've got an awful lot of life left in you."
Despite Gunner’s desire to stay put, he knew he couldn’t. Eventually, he’d have to rise and face the day. Face life again. A few minutes later, he had joined Father James at the table in the small living quarters off the back of the aged but grand structure of beautiful woodwork and stone workmanship. Even he had to admit that the soup tasted good and was helping clear his mind.
Father James leaned forward in the table just studying his younger friend. Gunner had stumbled in a couple days prior, sick with stress and spilling his heart about all that had been happening. It had been late that night when he'd finally fallen asleep, and for two days had only slept, too worn out for anything else.
Gunner ate in silence until he’d reached the bottom of the bowl and set it aside. “Gonna kick me out today?”
“You know I won’t ever kick you out. But I must admit, I’m concerned for those who I’m sure are worried about you.”
“I know.” Gunner’s eyes fell to the table. “I just…I dunno.”
“You know exactly why you’re avoiding those you’re closest to.”
“I do?”
Father James grinned. “I don’t want to sit here all day, so I’ll spell it out for you. Those you’re closest to make you feel most vulnerable – which is normal. But in your vulnerability, you have less control, and the less control you have, the more upset you get.”
Gunner’s eyes remained down. “So…”
“So you’ve got to learn to let go of the need for control. Whether or not you still question the past, blame yourself or not, the past is beyond your control, as are facts you face now. If you can quit trying to control everything, you’ll find that peace you’re looking for… and you’ll be able to face those you love without fighting your vulnerability.”
Gunner was silent for several moments. “Well, alrighty then.”
Father James chuckled. “What? No snippy comeback?”
“I’m too tired.” Gunner set his head down on his arms. “I don’t remember ever being so exhausted.”
“It’s the stress. You’re so strung out, your body can’t function beyond survival. Another reason you need to get this thing under control.”
“By not controlling it,” Gunner mumbled.
“Right.” Father James’ smile returned. “I knew you’d catch on quick.”
Gunner managed a scoff. “Thanks for your confidence.”
“I do have confidence in you, Brent. I always have. Ever since you first came into this church searching for answers, just as you are now.”
“I wish I was still searching for the same thing.” Gunner’s voice was muffled in his arms as he refused to lift his head again. “At least I wouldn’t have the knowledge that my entire wasted life was no one’s fault but my own.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Father James took hold of his shoulder. “Aside from your control issue, you need to let go of your unnecessary guilt. It’s a burden you were not meant to bear. So don’t. Truth or not, let it go. You have to live for your future, not the past.”
Gunner growled in frustration and finally lifted his head. “When I was released from the hospital, all I had was a stuffy, dishonest lawyer to help me. Coming here was a last ditch effort to find some sort of meaning.”
“And did you find it?”
“Yeah. And things made sense til I started questioning what really happened with my parents.”
“The truth you found here has not changed. The power and grace of God do not shift from one minute to the next. The things that made sense to you back then – that helped you sort out your life – those things are still there. You’ve just started focusing on the wrong things.”
“I’ve never left my faith…”
Father James shook his head. “Just because someone doesn’t abandon their belief in God, doesn’t mean they are walking the correct path. Any number of people can say they believe in God, and even have faith in Him. But if they don’t live a life according to His will, they might as well not believe at all.”
He stood and took the empty bowl to a nearby sink. “I’m not saying you walked away from your Christian life or were destined for Hell. But I do think your priorities have been readjusted to the point that you need to get things back in order. Your past is very important to you. I can’t imagine waking up one day and not remembering anything. But your future is what counts. That’s where the life God has given you is. That’s where your fiancé is. That’s where everyone who loves you is. And that’s where your purpose is, should you choose to fulfill it.”
Gunner folded his arms and rested his chin on them, lost in thought as Father James talked. It wasn’t a whole lot different than some of the things Hope had told him. He’d just been unwilling to listen. Or maybe he was just so tired today that he didn’t have the strength to argue anymore…
…It was early evening, and the fog over Gunner’s mind had finally lifted – at least enough that he was able to function again outside the care of Father James for now, and enough to drive. They’d talked all day, and though his spirit was still heavy, at least he had some goals, one of which was being brave enough to return to life again.
He dared a glance at his cell phone as he drove – the first look in days – only to find it completely dead, the battery having long since run out. He imagined there were many messages he’d missed. He knew Bree too well to think she’d just ignored his absence, especially since it had been several days. And while he didn’t think he was important enough to be missed by too many people, he knew in his heart that he’d worried Bree, and he was sorry. He was sorry about a lot of things.
It didn’t take long to reach his destination. His temporary home. Parking out on the curb, he took a moment to just look at the house. And he knew he’d be staying here longer than he liked. But he knew he needed the help. The support.
Moments later, he was inside, but saw no one. It seemed JT was gone, but Bree's car was here. After a brief search, he realized she was out on the back porch. And for a few seconds, he just watched her from behind the glass door. She looked so peaceful, sitting in the evening breeze. And he felt even sorrier for abandoning her like he had.
Slipping silently outside, he approached quietly...carefully. He eased down in the chair next to hers, his tired eyes taking in the setting sun. "Forgive me?"
Jason grinned and shook his head. “I’m glad. Otherwise, I’d be in a heap more trouble than I already am.”
He downed the rest of his coffee and stared at the empty cup. He didn’t really want to call an end to their time here…he’d…enjoyed it. As badly as he felt about everything with Misty, there was a little more peace now. A little more hope that things would be okay.
“Well…I suppose I ought to get home to my pup before he tears my house to shreds.” He looked at Katie once more, his expression a soft one. “Thanks…for being my hero once more.”
Eric was busy enough laughing, talking and eating that he didn’t notice Ashlee until she’d made it to their table. He glanced up quickly, a little surprised after his earlier encounter with her, but just as fast, a new smile appeared.
“Well of course you can sit here.” He pulled out the chair next to him and threw her a wink. “It’s never too late.”
He still had no idea why Ashlee had been so cool with him earlier, but he felt better now that she’d joined them. At least she must not be mad at him like he’d feared.
“So…” He took another bite of garlic bread. “What have you been up to since I left? Been keeping up with your riding?”
