A Husband for All Seasons (14 page)

But Chad missed her, and when he returned from an appointment with his New York publisher in late June, even though it was late at night, he called.

“Hope I didn't get you out of bed.”

“I'm in bed, but reading. I had the phone nearby.”

“It seems like ages since I've seen you. When do you have some free time?”

“I'm working all day tomorrow because the store manager is out of town, but I'm going to a special service at the church tomorrow night. A missionary from Haiti is going to speak. Why don't you come with me to that?”

“Will we have time for dinner first?”

“A quick one. I work until five and the meeting starts at seven. I'll walk to work in the morning and you can pick me up at the store. We can stop at a fast-food restaurant on our way to the church.”

 

As they entered the church, they stopped to view pictures of the mission work in Haiti displayed in the church lobby. Ravages of a hurricane were evident in the small town where a church and orphanage were located.

The meeting was held in a chapel rather than the large sanctuary and the crowd was sparse. The missionary, Floyd Hobson, was an African-American and he and his family were on short-term leave in the States. He presented a PowerPoint summary of the work he was doing and spoke at length of the needs in the small village. Chief among the problems was the devastation of their house of worship by a hurricane the previous fall. The orphanage had been repaired until it could be used, but no funds were available for rebuilding the church. After the missionary finished his presentation, the church's pastor stood.

“Our church has supported this mission work for several years, and we asked Floyd to speak tonight. Our church board is sponsoring a mission group to go to Haiti in September to rebuild their church. Monetary contributions will be welcomed, but a work crew is needed. We have some volunteers, but we need more. Building skills aren't required because one of the premier building contractors in Columbus is sending two of his men to supervise the work. All you need are
two hands and a willing heart. Talk to me after the benediction if you can answer this call.” And seemingly as an afterthought, he said, “And you'll need some money to take care of your travel expenses.”

Laughter from the audience greeted this important oversight.

Vicky and Chad exchanged glances. She smiled and nodded her head. Words weren't necessary to know that she, too, had taken the call personally, but he wondered if she could afford to pay her expenses. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it. The experience was such a strong one that he knew the call was from God. Of all the things he had expected God to call him to do, building a church on the island of Haiti was the last thing he would have imagined.

Chad continued to hold Vicky's hand as they exited the pew and started up the aisle toward the pulpit. He had his marching orders at last, and it felt great to be doing something. He'd been in limbo too long.

“We're interested in taking the mission trip,” he said after they greeted the pastor and shook the missionary's hand.

“Great! Sign your names in the book,” he said, indicating a notebook on a nearby table. “Can you come to an orientation meeting in the fellowship hall tomorrow night?”

“I can,” Chad said, and Vicky added, “I'll be here.”

As they drove home, they talked excitedly about the opportunity.

“I had the same feeling when he was talking as I did when I first felt my call to Christian service. I have no
doubt that all of these years God has been preparing me for this moment.”

“I'll pay your expenses,” Chad said.

Vicky's glance in his direction wasn't friendly.

“No, thank you,” she said coldly.

“I didn't intend to offend you,” Chad said. “You said you didn't have the money for a plane trip to Alabama, so I don't see how you can afford a three-week missionary trip to Haiti. You'll even be missing your salary at the bookstore. I'd consider it part of my contribution to the project.”

Vicky knew that she was being contrary, but now that her friendship for Chad had been complicated by love, she was hesitant to take anything from him.

“I appreciate your offer, but I wouldn't have volunteered for this trip if I couldn't pay for it. I must sacrifice
something
to do this. If you pay all of my expenses, then it will cost me nothing. I have a little nest egg that I've been harboring for several years. When my great aunt died she left me a legacy of four thousand dollars. That money has been in a savings account earning a little interest. I'll use that.”

Hearing the finality in her voice, Chad said no more.

C
had picked Vicky up at six o'clock to go to the orientation meeting. He parked in front of the apartment complex and took the stairs to her apartment two at a time, marveling at how his stamina had increased since his surgery five months ago.

He tapped on the door and waited. “Chad?” she called.

“Yes.”

“I'll be there in a second.”

She opened the door. “I'm not quite ready. Come in for a minute.”

He stepped inside the living area, which was divided from the kitchen by a serving bar. He felt as if he was in a closet. “The bedroom and adjoining bath are even smaller,” she said, laughing at his expression.

“It's fine for you,” he answered quickly, but he had compared it to the elegant, spacious rooms he enjoyed everyday.

“You probably think I'm crazy for living here when
I could be living with my folks and occupying a nice bedroom that's larger than this apartment.”

“No, I don't think that,” he assured her. “I know exactly how you feel. I lived with my folks through college, but I did that because it was less expensive and my company meant a lot to them. But I paid them back for all they'd spent on me and more when I set up a trust fund for their retirement. I understand your reason for living here.”

She picked up her coat and he held it as she shrugged into it and zipped it.

“Are you excited?” she said as she preceded him down the narrow steps.

“Yes, I am. I've been singing most of the day, but it must not have been very melodious for Grace came upstairs in midafternoon, tapped on my door and asked me if I was sick.”

Vicky joined his shout of laughter, and one of the tenants on the first floor stuck her head out of her door.

“What's going on?” she demanded, which only made Vicky and Chad laugh louder until the woman slammed the door on their merrymaking.

Vicky slid into the front seat of his car when he opened the door.

“I know this trip isn't going to be any picnic, and I'll settle down to grim reality soon, but my prayers have been answered, in part, at least. I'm so thankful I can't stop rejoicing.”

He buckled his seat belt and pulled out into the street.

“That's exactly how I've felt all day. I've been lost in a wilderness for three years, wandering around trying to
find my way out. Suddenly, I've found a road that I can follow to go home. It's the same feeling I had when I volunteered to go with the Red Cross to help in the aftermath of the flood. I'm going to make a difference in the lives of other people—that's all I've ever wanted to do.”

“I called my parents, as well as Perry and Lorene. Mom and Dad weren't sure it was the right thing for me to do, but as always, they accepted my decision. Perry and Lorene were as excited as we are. ‘Humph' was Grace's only comment, but I'm convinced she's proud of me.”

“My parents didn't turn a hair when I told them, and Dad even offered to pay my expenses.”

Chad negotiated a left turn on Broad Street, chuckling as he remembered a conversation with his agent.

“Howie just about hit the ceiling when he found out. Even though I told him not to, he's been negotiating other television and radio interviews for me. He had one scheduled for the time we'll be in Haiti to coincide with the beginning of the new season. I told him to cancel it and not reschedule without my permission. He wasn't very happy.”

Floyd Hobson, the missionary, greeted them at the door and directed them to the conference room. Several people had already arrived and stood in small groups talking. Erica Long, whom Vicky had known for several years, called to them from the kitchenette at the back of the room.

“Come and have snacks and drinks before the meeting starts,” she said. Erica stood behind a folding table holding several plates of deli cookies, a coffee server and several cans of soft drinks.

Chad and Vicky picked up cans of cola and put
several cookies on one plate, which they would share. They moved to a round table near the podium, already occupied by a middle-aged couple.

The man reached his hand across the table to Chad. I'm Smith Baxter,” he said, “and this is my wife, Liz. We belong to a church in Cincinnati, but Reverend Hobson is a member of our church. When we knew he was taking this tour group we signed on.”

“My name is Chad Reece and this is my friend, Vicky Lanham.”

A speculative expression passed across Mr. Baxter's face when Chad introduced himself, as if the name sounded familiar, but he continued, “This is our second missionary trip. We went to Nicaragua once.”

“My first,” Chad said.

“This is the first outside the country for me,” Vicky explained, “but I worked on a Red Cross disaster team once.”

The missionary entered the room, followed by two men who were strangers to Vicky. Erica came and sat beside Vicky.

“If everyone will take a seat,” Floyd said, “we'll get started. We have a lot to discuss. First of all, let's have prayer.”

He spoke briefly, thanking God for those who had volunteered and asking His blessing on the work tour they were planning.

“This is a get-acquainted meeting as well as orientation,” Floyd said. He indicated the two men who had entered the room with him. “Some of you may recognize Keith and Alvin Cross, who are among the major building contractors in this region. Although I value all
of your participation, I especially appreciate these men for taking three weeks away from their business to help build a church.

“Contrary to what the general public may think, we aren't going on a vacation. The people of Haiti are the poorest in the Western Hemisphere, and in the village where we're going, our living conditions will be primitive. The weather is mild during this season of the year, and we'll sleep in tents on cots. It will be a challenge for our cooks to prepare food.”

He lifted several folders. “Everyone should take one of these instruction folders and study them carefully so you'll know exactly what preparations you must make. Included is a list of personal things to take—medications and health items in particular. You must get a passport if you don't already have one. Instructions about obtaining passports are on the sheet, also, as well as the kind of clothing to take. In former missionary tours I've directed, after the participants see how poor the people of Haiti are, they leave most of their garments behind when we come home. So pack accordingly.”

“We left everything except the clothes on our back in Nicaragua,” Liz Baxter whispered.

“One thing we must always remember,” the missionary continued, “is that while we're going to build a church, our most important mission is to build the Church of Christ. We are His representatives to the people we meet, many of whom do not know Him.”

Vicky had brought a notebook along and she made notes on things they must remember. Each volunteer was asked to pay two thousand dollars which would take
care of the plane fare, their food in Haiti, most of which would be bought in the United States and taken with them, and hotel accommodations in Port-au-Prince on their arrival and departure.

After he finished his explanation, Reverend Hobson asked each volunteer to mention what area of expertise they could contribute to the missionary project. “And since we'll experience a lot of close communion in the next month or so, we might as well get on a first name basis to start with. Just call me Floyd.”

Most of the men had some kind of experience that would be helpful in construction—an electrician, a plumber, a painter. Smith Baxter said that he and his wife had no construction skills to contribute, but they wanted to provide Bible classes for adults or children during the two weeks they were in the village.

Chad and Vicky exchanged helpless glances. In his excitement of believing that God meant for him to go to Haiti, he hadn't considered what he could do when he got there. From Vicky's defeated expression, he knew that she, too, hadn't gotten beyond the excitement of going to the mission field at last.

Erica Long, a plump, matronly woman, smiled widely, “I've done a lot of painting in my own house, and I can do that if needed, but I guess somebody will have to prepare food for the mission team. I'm a pretty good cook, if I do say so, and I'll try to keep food on the table.”

Chad and Vicky were the only ones who hadn't spoken, and he motioned for her to go ahead.

“I don't have any skills—I'm not even an experi
enced cook, but I felt God's call to go. There ought to be something I can do.”

“You can help me, Vicky,” Erica said.

“Let me interrupt a moment,” the missionary said. “We don't expect our volunteers to be skilled workers. A willing heart is probably the best asset anyone can have. I fully believe that it's God's will for this group to go to Haiti as a team, and He can use any talents you have.”

Chad unfolded his tall frame and Vicky's heart seemed to turn a somersault. What a man! Handsome as the dawn, and unpretentious as a newborn with the personality of a beloved pet. How could she be fortunate enough to be his friend? Better a friend than nothing, she thought, and hoped that she could conceal her feelings from Chad. When they were going to be together almost constantly for three weeks in Haiti, it would be hard to do.

Vicky could tell he had the group captivated before he said a word. After giving his name, he said, “Like Vicky, I don't know the first thing about construction. I know the difference between a hammer and a saw, but not how to use either one. But when Floyd made his appeal for helpers, I felt the same urge that Isaiah must have felt when he saw the Lord high and lifted up in the temple. I didn't hear the doorposts and thresholds shaking and the sanctuary wasn't filled with smoke, as it was in the prophet's vision, but the voice of God spoke to my heart. I knew right away the message was meant for me. That's all I have to offer, but I believe it will be enough.”

“I believe it will be, too, Chad,” the missionary said tenderly.

One of the contractors, Keith Cross, had turned to
stare at Chad when he gave his name. When Chad sat down, Keith laughed and said, “I'm afraid Chad is hiding his light under a bushel. He might not know much about building construction, but I'd trade my craft any day to be able to play football like he can.”

Everyone in the room focused on Chad. Vicky wondered how much it cost him to say evenly, “Make that in the past tense—like I
could
. If you recognize me, you probably also know that I won't be playing football anymore.”

“Yes,” Keith answered. “I saw your television interview last week. A bad break, Chad.”

“Two months ago, I couldn't talk about it and would have agreed with you. But I'm convinced that everything has happened in my life for a reason. As long as God is leading the way, I'll be all right.”

The assembled group clapped their hands in agreement.

“We have a diverse group of volunteers,” Floyd said, “and we bring a lot of talent and experience to this project. Lumber, nails, roofing and other supplies needed to build the church have already been shipped and hopefully they will be there before we are. What we need to do tonight is start listing what we want to take with us. Let's think about food first, and since we'll be taking it with us, think light. We can buy fresh vegetables and fruit in markets in the cities, as well as other food items, but Haitian diets are different from ours. We'll do well to take what we can.”

“Since we've been to Nicaragua, we have some ideas, Liz Baxter said. “Take cake mixes that don't need eggs.”

“Who will write down the list as we go along?”

Vicky held up her hand and flipped a page in her notebook.

“See, Vicky,” Floyd said, “you've found a job already.”

The other two women and some men who cooked suggested dried beans, instant potatoes, dried soup, boxes of puddings, biscuit mix and pancake mix until Vicky had a sizable list.

“We will think of more things later. Some of you may think we're making plans too far in advance, but the next two months will pass quickly, because there are many preparations to make,” Floyd said. “Now we will need a treasurer—someone to keep track of our funds. Since not many people feel like volunteering to handle other people's funds, I'm going to ask Smith Baxter to take care of that. Before you leave, if all of you will give Smith the fee, he can have the church treasurer hold the money until we're ready to go. Either a check or cash will do. Those of you buying the foodstuffs will have to withdraw some of that money soon. The balance can be taken in traveler's checks.”

Chad had gotten enough cash to pay his fee, but Vicky wrote a check for the amount.

“I'll help Erica put away the food and wash the coffee cups,” she said. “It won't take long.”

“I'm in no hurry.”

Chad picked up two information kits and sat at one of the tables. While he waited for Vicky he opened the packet to read their itinerary and instructions. Keith Cross came to sit beside him.

“I should have kept my mouth shut, Chad. Maybe you'd just as soon no one knew of your NFL career.”

“It's okay. I spent several miserable weeks dodging people, thinking my life was over. I was mad at myself, mad at God, just a regular pain in the neck to everyone, especially my family. But I'm all right now. I really am!” he insisted when he saw doubt in Keith's eyes. “Fame fades about as fast as it comes, so within a few years, my football career will be forgotten.” He smiled kindly.

“Does anyone want any more coffee before we throw it away?” Erica called.

“I could handle another cup,” Keith said. “How about you, Chad?”

“No coffee, but I'll drink another can of diet pop.”

They joined Vicky and Erica, who were discussing their cooking assignment.

“I'll buy a book of Haitian recipes,” Erica said. “I'm not going to live for three weeks in a foreign country and live on macaroni and cheese out of a box.” She made a face. “There are some Haitian restaurants in Columbus, and I might take dinner there some evening. If I can find some interesting foods, we can take some of those ingredients with us, too.”