The Breaking Point (38 page)

Gabe folded his arms and angled a look at Oren. Again with the Bible stories. They spilled out of Oren like grain from a silo. What Gabe wanted to know was why this man was even out here talking to him. Didn’t he know Gabe was a lost cause?

Apparently not. He just gave a small shake of his head, as though amused by something, and went on. Gabe forced himself to focus on what Oren was saying.

“Of course, it was God’s storm, not Elijah’s.”

“Oh?” Gabe tried to sound interested. It was the least he could do. “How so?”

“Well, Elijah just did one miracle after another. First he greets a new king by telling him there won’t be any rain in the land until Elijah says so. Then he gives a widow woman bottomless containers of oil and flour. And when her son dies, Elijah brings the boy back to life.”

A frown drew his brow tight. Fine. If Oren wanted to talk Bible, he’d play along. Gabe wasn’t exactly uninformed when it came to God’s Word. He’d been in seminary, after all. He
even remembered Elijah. One of the few gutsy guys in the Bible. “He made a bunch of self-righteous priests look like fools.”

Oren’s smile broadened. “That he did. Always liked that about Elijah. Challenged Baal’s priests to a little contest. Said they should build an altar to
their
gods, and he’d build one to his. They’d prepare an offering and pray for the altars to be set on fire. The god who answered first would be declared the true God. Baal’s priests figured it was a done deal. So they got everything ready and prayed. For days. But nothing happened.”

Oh yeah, Gabe remembered this part of the story “Elijah said their gods must not hear them because he was off … uh—” he waggled his eyebrows—
“relieving
himself.”

Oren’s deep chuckle filled the night. “Leave it to you to remember that.”

“Hey, at least it proves I
do
read the Bible.” The comment was only half joking. Gabe knew Renee thought he never cracked the cover of his Bible anymore. He’d be amazed if she kept that opinion to herself.

Oren stopped his whittling and met Gabe’s challenge straight on. “I knew that, Gabe. Never doubted it, no matter what anyone said. Just like I’ve always known you want to be God’s man.”

Gabe scrambled for a flippant response but couldn’t find one. The emotions rocking made it too hard to think. How could this man say such things? How could he speak with such confidence in Gabe? Especially when those who knew him best—his father … his
wife
—had no confidence in him at all?

He waved the questions away. Things were getting entirely too serious—and entirely too focused on him. “So anyway, what were you saying about Elijah?”

Gabe figured Oren recognized the question for what it was: a ploy to get the conversation off of the one topic he was heartily sick of—himself. So he was grateful when Oren let the moment go.

“Well, you know the priests of Baal gave up, so Elijah doused his altar with water. Even dug a trench around it and filled that with water. Then he prayed to God.”

“Once. He prayed one time.” That was all it took. One prayer from the prophet, and God answered. In spades.

So why hasn’t He answered you? You’re not a prophet, but you believe. So what’s the deal? Doesn’t God care enough about you to answer your prayers?
Gabe stiffened against the rush of anger the question brought to life.

“Right. Elijah prayed, and God sent a fire from heaven that consumed the offering, the altar, even the water in the trench.”

Gabe felt Oren’s steady focus on him. He had the distinct sense that nothing escaped this man’s notice. He wasn’t sure if that was a comfort or a confirmation that Gabe should stay as far away from him as possible.

Oren tapped the branch he was working into his palm, and Gabe was relieved when Oren lowered his eyes to study the branch instead of him. He watched as the older man smoothed the wood with his fingers.

What was it Oren had told him once about whittling? That he liked seeing the secrets in the wood, discovering what lay deep inside just waiting to come out …

His words came back to Gabe like a whisper on the wind:
“All it takes is patience and a skilled blade.”

“Must have been pretty impressive—” Oren’s gaze didn’t leave his work—“since Ahab and the people followed Elijah’s orders to slaughter the priests of Baal. But Elijah wasn’t done, even after that.”

“Seems like plenty to do in a day.”

Oren’s mouth tipped at Gabe’s muttered comment. “You’d think so, but he had more in mind. He prayed for rain. And like the fire, it came, ending the drought he’d predicted some three years earlier.”

It was fascinating to watch Oren work his small knife.
Gabe could see something taking shape beneath his hands, but couldn’t tell what it was. He considered leaning closer, getting a better look, but something held him back.

“Just like that, this one man, a prophet no less, brought King Ahab to his knees.”

Gabe looked at the sky. What would that be like? How would it feel to have that much impact on someone of such importance? On someone, period. What would it be like to have people actually listen to what you had to say? “Must be nice.”

Oren cupped the piece of wood in one palm, then held his knife like a pencil in the other hand, working the tip into the wood. “For a while, I expect it was.”

“A while?”

Oren met Gabe’s question with a nod. “Less than a day, in fact. Ahab went home and told his wife, Jezebel, all about it. She was a bit upset that her priests had been killed and sent Elijah a message that she was going to do the same to him.” He blew on the wood, and tiny shavings floated to the ground. “Remember what he did?”

Gabe thought about it. “No, but he must have let her have it, too. After all, he’d just seen God use him to do some amazing things. Why would he be afraid of one woman?”

Oren’s expression was unreadable. “Why, indeed? It’s a good question, and not just for Elijah. Why are any of us afraid of the women in our lives?”

Gabe’s spine stiffened at that. “I’m not afraid of Renee.”

“No?”

“No.”

Oren looked beyond Gabe to the small creek behind them, to the budding branches of the trees around them. “So you’re out here because …?”

Gabe opened his mouth, but words didn’t come. They couldn’t, because he suddenly knew anything he had to say was a lie.

He
was
afraid. Of Renee, of the ways she could cut and wound him, of seeing that weary disappointment on her face, of watching the spark in her eyes sputter and die, leaving a dullness there that cut him more deeply than any blade ever could.

Afraid? You’d better believe it. And he hated himself for it.

“It’s okay, Gabe. We all face the same feelings.”

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the words from his tight, aching throat. “No … not like this.”

Oren slid the wood and his knife into his pocket and stood. He came to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Gabe. Just like this.”

He looked into the older man’s face, saw the compassion, the understanding. If only he could believe what Oren was saying.

“It’s just like Elijah. Here he’d done all these amazing, impossible things, and then one threat from Jezebel, and what does he do? Pray? Ask God for help? No way. He heads for the hills.”

Gabe had forgotten that. “He ran.”

Oren’s nod was firm. “He ran. Just like so many of us when we’re worn out by life, by dealing with the world day in and day out. We go through each day doing the seemingly impossible, even seeing the amazing ways God works in our lives and our work, and then we come home, wanting nothing more than to be loved and appreciated.”

Gabe couldn’t restrain the nod, the groan of agreement. “That’s all I ever wanted. Just to know she appreciated all that I was doing.”

“I hear you, son. But you know what? Not many of us get that—any more often than we give it.”

Anger escaped Gabe in a snort and he pushed himself up from the bench. The emotions churning within him begged for some kind of release, and since there wasn’t anything out here to throw, he settled for pacing. He stuffed his hands deep
into his pockets. Kept him from hitting something.

Oren moved back to his chair. “Tell you what I think, Gabe.” He pulled the twig and the knife from his pocket and went back to work. “I think Elijah folded out of pure exhaustion. He was worn out, physically and spiritually. What he probably needed was rest. To step away from the intensity of the battle and let God refresh him. Instead, he tried to do it all himself. To take the hits, to handle it. He forgot who was the Shepherd and who was the sheep. Forgot his life wasn’t in his hands, but in those of the Master. He ended up letting his emotions take over his thinking, and that led to some mighty bad choices. And like any sheep in a panic, he ran straight for the cliff. It was only God’s grace that kept him from going over the edge.”

Gabe slowed, then came to a halt. He turned to study the man sitting there. “What are you saying, Oren?” He narrowed his eyes, looking around them at the rain-laden landscape. “I don’t think you came out here to teach me a Bible lesson. So just say it, okay?”

A smile peeked out from Oren’s face. “No, I’m clearly no Bible teacher. So you want it straight?”

Gabe braced himself. Now it would come, Oren telling him what he’d done wrong, how worthless he was for treating Renee the way he had. Well, he’d asked for it, so he better just take it. “Please.”

“Okay, straight out, I think you’re like Elijah, son.”

Gabe frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

“I think you’ve forgotten you’re just one of the sheep, that it’s not your job to make everything work out right. To take care of everything and everyone.”

Oren leaned back in his chair, tilting his head as he studied Gabe. “You had a bad start, son. Worse than most. And you’ve had some mighty hard hits since then. But despite all that, you’re doing what you know to do. God is doing some amazing things in your life. He’s called you to obedience even
in the face of all the doubts, and in many ways, you’ve done well.” There was no denying the sincerity in either his tone or his eyes. “I’ve seen the changes in you, Gabe. And I know they weren’t easy. But there’s this thing inside of you that won’t let you open yourself up. Won’t let you lean on anyone, not your friends or your family. Not even the Shepherd.”

Oren stood and came to stand in front of Gabe. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his whittling project, then pressed it into Gabe’s hand. “I know you’re used to standing on your own. I know you’ve felt like the one who had to protect everyone else for a long time. But that time is past. I’m here. Gracie is here. Your counselor, your friends in the Bible study—” his gaze softened—“even Renee. We’re all here for you, just waiting for you to realize it. And God, Gabe. God’s here, too. It’s time to let yourself join the flock, to be one of the sheep, and rest in the Shepherd’s care.”

He patted Gabe’s arm. “All you have to do is let us in, son. And we’ll get through this thing. Together. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m here to tell you the best thing you can do is ignore that voice that tells you it isn’t safe, that you have to do this on your own. That’s a lie, Gabe. And you know where it’s gotten you so far.” He lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “Why not take a risk and give the truth a chance?” He looked to the house, then waved. “Looks like Gracie wants to talk to me, so I’m going to head in.” His gaze caught Gabe’s and held it. “You okay?”

Gabe nodded, and Oren started back toward the house. Gabe did move. He stood, looking into the sky.

“We’re all here for you, just waiting for you to realize it … All you have to do is let us in … Why not take a risk and give the truth a chance?”

Gabe felt his hands clench, then flinched. He looked down at the small piece of wood in his palm, and in the moonlight pouring over the yard, he saw a small, intricately carved lamb curled in his hand. Its head rested on its
stretched-out front legs, its eyes were closed, and a look of pure, trusting contentment was on its tiny face.

He tipped it to the light and saw that what the lamb rested on was two simple words:
Trust
Me.

Gabe’s hand closed over the lamb as he lifted his face to the stars. “I’ll try, God. I can’t make any promises beyond that … I will try.”

He only hoped Oren was right, that he wouldn’t have to do it alone. He was going to need all the help he could get.