The List (32 page)

The path led to a fire ring surrounded by several short logs, cut and placed upright for crude seating. Jo sat facing the mountains, stretched out her legs, and enjoyed the breeze that strengthened its force as it swept across the elevated spot. The dog sat beside her quietly, head resting on Jo's knee.

“This place is glorious,” she spoke to the wind. “Let your wind blow over Renny.” A shadow flashed across her, and she looked up to see an eagle gliding overhead on the currents rising from the valley below. As if delivering her prayer, the bird swooped low over the roof of the lodge and sailed back up on an updraft. “Thank you, Father,” she prayed.

Following Jo's suggestion, Renny opened the Bible and found the book of John. It was a red-letter edition, and he noticed that Chapter 17 was almost entirely in red. Starting at verse 1, he read through verse 3, “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” He stopped.
Eternal life is knowing God, not just believing some true things about him.

He continued to the end of the chapter. Jesus concluded by praying, “May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. . . . I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”

George Manor believed Moravian prayers were still being answered. How much more the prayers of Jesus—even if it had been two thousand years ago? What did Jesus pray? The love of the Father for the Son—in him, and Jesus—in him. But how?

Guided by a skillful Hand that had pointed the way for countless pilgrims down through the ages, Renny turned to John 3. “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.' The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

Renny looked up from the page. Jo was right. The born-again idea did not originate with Billy Graham or Jimmy Carter.
It's in the Bible. It's Jesus' explanation of a new birth by the Spirit. It's something God does inside you.
Renny's thoughts, with precision and order, turned one way then another, like the dial of a massive safe. He remembered Jo's question when they walked on the Pawley's Island beach, “Has he ever called you?” That's the wind blowing where it wills.
Click.
He remembered his mother's letter and Grandfather Candler's prayer. That's the prayers of my family.
Click.
He remembered the sermon at St. Catherine's on the love of the father for the Prodigal Son. That's the heavenly Father waiting for me to come home.
Click.

Turning to John 1, he read down to verses 12 and 13: “Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.” The dial turned the last round, the tumblers fell in place, and Renny opened his heart to the Son of God. “I believe. I receive,” he spoke the words out loud, and heaven rejoiced.

Sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, he leaned his head back and allowed himself to know, really know for the first time in his life, what it meant to have a personal relationship with God. Now he could understand why Jo's eyes were so swollen when she had come from Mrs. Stokes's prayer closet. Renny didn't cry, but he understood. God loved him.

Mama A stood next to her bed folding a load of clothes. Every few seconds she shouted, “Praise the Lord,” “Hallelujah,” or “Thank you, Jesus.” The day hadn't started out on such a positive note. She hadn't been feeling well that morning, canceled a trip to go out with a friend, and decided to stay around the house.

At noon she felt a little better and, after eating a sandwich, lay down for a nap on the sofa in her living room. She dreamed. She saw Clarence, a sheet of paper in his hand, standing in a brightly lit room next to a simple wooden table. Tall windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, let in light from every direction. The room was bare except for the table and a ladder-back chair with a new cane seat. The door opened and Renny, dressed in a suit, came in. Mama A thought Renny looked like a preacher! He walked up to Clarence with a big smile and shook his hand. Clarence returned the smile, pulled back the chair, and motioned for Renny to sit down. Then, Clarence laid the sheet of paper on the table. Renny leaned over and spent several moments reading it carefully. When he finished, he looked up at Clarence and nodded his head. Clarence handed him a pen, and Renny signed the sheet. The two men disappeared as the room dissolved in light.

The old woman woke up with a hallelujah echoing in her spirit. “He's signed on the dotted line, Lord,” she exclaimed. “He's crossed the Jordan! Do you know that, Katharine? Did you know your boy is in the kingdom?” she asked the heavens. “Of course you do. Of course you do.”

17

Shout unto God with the voice of triumph.

P
SALM 47:1, KJV

R
enny suddenly remembered his promise to meet Jo on the ridge. Hopping up, he left the house and walked quickly to the top. As he looked around, Renny felt as if he were seeing with a new set of eyes. Everything around him looked different. The trees more distinct, the touch of the breeze more refreshing, the sound of a chipmunk scurrying in the leaves more clear.

Jo wasn't at the gazebo, but as he neared the crest of the hill, he saw her standing with her back to him, hands raised to the sky. Just like Lois Berit. He slowed, not sure if he should disturb her, but she lowered her hands and beckoned him forward. He covered the distance between them in a few bounding steps and faced her.

“How was John?” she asked.

Renny stood close in front of her and looked into her eyes. Jo saw a light that had not been there when they sat on the sofa in Mrs. Stokes's living room the night before. “You did it, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“I can see it in your face.”

“I'm glad. I know it's true. I know it's real.” Sitting on a brown stump, he told her what happened, concluding with his simple prayer of declaration and faith.

Jo listened intently. When he finished, she quietly said, “Amen.”

Renny couldn't sit still. Jumping up, he said, “What next? I feel like running across the tops of these mountains.”

“I think you should shout,” Jo responded.

“What do you mean?”

“If you were at a football game and your team scored the winning touchdown on a long pass play as time ran out, what would you do?”

“I'd scream my head off.”

“The Bible says to shout unto God with a voice of triumph. You've got something to celebrate and shout about. If we were in most churches, I couldn't suggest this because the ushers would escort you outside the building. But we're not in a church; we're here by ourselves on top of a mountain that has been created by God.”

“What should I say?”

“Whatever is in your heart.” Jo took a step back. “Go for it.”

Renny paused, put his fingers in his mouth, and blew a long, shrill whistle. Raising his right fist in the air, he closed his eyes and yelled, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” He opened his eyes and looked questioningly at Jo. “How was that?”

“Sounded like a field goal in the third quarter. You can do better. Don't hold back.”

He stopped and looked down at the lodge to reassure himself that no one but Jo was within earshot. Taking a big breath, he cried out at the top of his lungs, “Thank you, Jesus!” He said it again, just as loud, but pausing between each word for emphasis, “Thank . . . you, . . . Jesus!” Again and again, with increasing freedom he proclaimed his gratefulness to the heavens and the hills. “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus!” Heaving for breath, he asked, “How was that?”

Jo nodded. “We just had church. That felt good, didn't it?”

“Yes it did. Why?”

“Probably for a lot of reasons I don't know, but there is something powerful in thanking God for saving us and setting us free. Things we don't want hanging around our necks fall off when we acknowledge him in a bold way.”

“I do feel lighter.”

“We believe in our hearts and confess with our mouths that Jesus is Lord. Try this one, ‘Jesus is Lord.' I'll join in with you.”

So, atop a small mountain in western North Carolina, two young people declared a reality more important than the sum total of mankind's accomplishments since the beginning of recorded history—the ultimate authority of Jesus Christ.

As he and Jo grew quiet, Renny felt something welling up inside. Sitting on the stump, he said, “Jo, I think I am supposed to tell you something.”

Remembering George Manor's words, she hesitated before asking, “What is it?”

“A verse from Psalm 23, one of the few chapters I'm familiar with in the Bible, keeps coming to my mind. The part that says, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.' That's it. Why would I think about that?”

Relieved that he hadn't proposed, Jo sat down across from him. “I'm not sure.”

“Maybe it's my imagination. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, don't be. I'll pray about it.” Jo wiped her hands on her shorts and stood. “Let's walk back to the lodge.”

Renny followed Jo down the path. When they reached the gazebo, he came alongside her and said, “Let's stop here for a minute.”

Jo saw the Manors' car approaching the house through the orchard. “Look, George and Helen are back. Let's see if they need any help.” Without waiting for a response from Renny, she kept going. She did not want to test the accuracy of George Manor's prophecy.

Jo and Renny grabbed the last two sacks of groceries from the trunk and carried them into the kitchen, a long, narrow room divided by a wooden island that provided plenty of workspace and seating for eight people on high four-legged stools. An adjacent breakfast nook nestled in a bay window had a mountain view on three sides.

“How was the prayer ridge?” Helen asked.

“More of a proclamation ridge for us,” Jo said.

“That's good,” George said. “I've had a few meetings myself around the fire ring.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Helen asked.

“Water would be fine,” Jo said.

They each sat on a stool, holding a glass of ice water.

Renny cleared his throat. “Thanks for what you told me earlier.”

George nodded.

“It answered my question about God in a way I'd never suspected.”

“Good,” George said.

Renny continued, “After I came in from the deck, I spent some time alone reading the Bible. A lot of things became clear to me, and I knew God was calling me to come to know him. I prayed, and it happened.”

“Congratulations!” George slid off the stool and clapped him on the shoulder.

Helen gave Renny a hug. “Our supper tonight can be your celebration meal. I'll get started right away.”