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  He broke down and slumped down on the bench, dropping his face into his hands. “If only I could be more like her, if I could think the things she thought, feel the feelings she felt. If I could be the kind of person she was, maybe I could raise these kids and do what I need to do by them. But that would be too much of a miracle.”

  Andy sat beside him. “God’s in the business of miracles. Don’t you understand that?”

  “Then why didn’t He save her?”

  Bree looked at Andy, wondering how in the world he’d find the wisdom to answer that question.

  But Andy wasn’t daunted. “He did save her. She was taken to heaven. She’s in a safe place. But God’s not finished with you, Lawrence. The Lord loves you, and He has you on His mind. He’s working in your life whether you can see Him or not.”

  The man sat there a moment, studying his hands, his forehead pleated as he tried to work it all out. Andy had the grace to let quiet settle over them.

  Finally the man got to his feet again and slid his hands into his pockets. “Do you guys have a church, or what?”

  “Yes, sir,” Bree said, “we do. We go to the same church. It’s Brotherhood Community Church over on Chapel Road.”

  “Well, maybe I need to visit it. I think it would be too painful for my kids to go back to their church, to sit there without their mother. Maybe we need some place new.”

  “I can understand that,” Andy said, “but we’re not here to rob churches of their members. We just want to help you.”

  “Do you have a service tonight?”

  “Yes,” Bree said, “but are you sure you want to come this soon?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” His face took on a determined look. “I made some promises to God while I was sitting at the burial service, and I think it’s time I started keeping them. My kids and I will be there tonight. We’ll see if God will really give me another chance.”

  15

  CARL’S FEET DIDN’T SEEM TO HAVE A DIRECTION AS they left the Grisham house, so he and the others each decided to go home and rest before church.

  Bree’s mother was napping when she got home, and her children were still at their friend’s.

  She went to her room and opened her Bible. She’d never been one to spend a lot of time poring over Scripture, but now she felt it was a missing piece in her life. And it was a piece she needed for the job God had set before her. Even so, she feared it was too late to catch up. The Lord had given her a job to do, but she had flippantly skipped the training.

  She opened to Romans and turned a few pages, then her eyes fell to a highlighted passage—Romans 12. Her pastor had preached on this last week, just days before the earthquake. His sermon was about equipping the Body of Christ and how each believer had different gifts, but all those gifts worked together.

  How appropriate! And why was she surprised that the Lord had led her to this today? Smiling, she began to read.

  The moment Carl was inside his apartment, his feet led him straight to his Bible. It lay open on his bed table, and he picked it up and took it in the living room to the couch. He sat down and turned on the lamp, then opened it to a passage he’d highlighted in yellow. Romans 12.

  “I urge you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind . . .”

  Carl stopped reading and stared at the page, running those last few words through his mind: Transformed by the renewing of your mind.

  He thought about those words, over and over, trying to crack the code that had always seemed like gibberish before.

  And then he understood. Just because his feet were running all over the place in his rescue operation for God, it didn’t in any way mean he was better than any other Christian. And that meant his mind and heart had some growing to do.

  He read on.

  . . . “that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. For through the grace given to me I say to every man among you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think; but to think so as to have sound judgment, as God has allotted to each a measure of faith.”

  Carl got up and paced his apartment, rubbing the back of his neck. He was no super-athlete, running the hundred-yard dash from disaster to broken heart. He was just a short, skinny, bald guy, like he’d always been.

  But he was chosen by God, not just to have amazing feet, but for salvation, and eternal life, and a share in Christ’s own inheritance. He went back to his Bible and read on.

  “For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.”

  He sat back down and stared at a nail hole on his wall. No doubt about it, the Lord was speaking to him. And with all his heart, he determined that he would listen.

  Andy tried to sleep when he got home, but he kept looking at his Bible, lying open on the desk in the corner of his room. He was dog tired. He had stayed up all night last night, reading Scripture and trying to prepare himself for the situations the Lord would put him in today. But now he felt compelled to read and study more.

  He got up and went to his desk, then looked down at the passage on the open page.

  And since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let each exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; if service, in his serving; or he who teaches, in his teaching; or he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness.

  Andy frowned. A jolt went through him that the Lord was speaking to him, as clearly as if He had appeared to him. “Why did You show me this, Lord?”

  He walked around his small house, processing what he’d read. “We’ve got these gifts and we’ve used them together . . . But there are other gifts, and other gifted people . . .”

  His voice trailed off, and he picked the Bible up.

  “Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor.”

  “I will, Lord. No matter what, I will. I understand that the work doesn’t stop when we lead people to You. There’s more to be done.” He swallowed, feeling humbled and small. “Teach me, Lord. I’m listening.”

  16

  BREE’S AFTERNOON OF STUDY LEFT HER FEELING more equipped than ever as she went back to church for the evening service. Carl and Andy waited in the parking lot for her, and she rushed toward them.

  “I feel so good! I had a great Bible study this afternoon and I’m ready to go.”

  “Me too.” Andy grinned. “I felt like God was talking right to me.”

  “I had the same experience,” Carl said. “It was awesome.”

  They started inside. The corridor was crowded with milling people, chattering and laughing before entering the sanctuary. She saw several visitors engaged in conversations with members.

  A sickly looking woman with thinning hair and yellow skin met Bree’s eyes.

  She waited for the flash, but there was none. She glanced at the member who was talking to the woman, and hoped that she was filling the woman’s needs.

  Bree moved on, following Carl into the crowd, but he walked slowly, with no particular purpose. Andy walked in a brooding silence . . . just as he’d done so often before the quake.

  Carl stopped and leaned back against the wall, looking around with a frown on his face. Bree stood there, waiting for him to tell her who to look at, but he was staring at the floor.

  She turned and met another woman’s eyes.

  Nothing.

  She looked at a man. A little girl. A teenage boy.

  Lord, I don’t see.

  “Something’s happened.” Andy’s words turned her around, and
she frowned up into his somber eyes.

  “Yeah, let’s find some place to talk. Carl?”

  He nodded, but this time he didn’t lead them. He followed as Andy led them up the hall.

  All the way there, Bree locked into people’s gazes, trying to see with her gift, trying to understand their hearts.

  But nothing happened.

  Finally, they reached the same room they’d gone into the other night, and Carl turned the light on.

  “I’ve lost the gift.” They said it simultaneously, then caught their breath.

  “You too?” Andy asked. “I thought it was just me.”

  “I’m walking aimlessly,” Carl said. “My feet feel like lead.”

  Bree shook her head. “And I’ve met the eyes of a dozen people and haven’t had one flash.”

  Carl sank down and propped his chin on the heels of his hands. “Man, what does this mean?”

  “Maybe we blew it,” Andy said. “Maybe God took our gifts away because we didn’t use them well enough.”

  Bree couldn’t believe that was true. “What more could we have done? We went until Carl’s urge faded. Then I felt like God was sending us home to rest.”

  “Then why?” Carl asked. “Why would He give us these precious gifts, then snatch them away?”

  Bree shoved her fingers through her hair and tried to think. “You know, it’s crazy. When I first got this gift, it scared me to death. Remember when we came in here the other night, and our heads were spinning because we didn’t know what was happening? I didn’t want the gift. But now that I’ve had it and I’ve seen its power, I don’t want to lose it.”

  She went to the window and looked out on one of the parking lots. It was going to be a record crowd for a Sunday night. So many people looking for God.

  “Does this mean our work is over?” Carl asked the question on a raspy breath.

  Bree turned back around.

  “It can’t be,” Andy said. “A Christian’s work is never over. Ours just got started.”

  “But how can we do it without the gifts?” Carl’s question held a note of despair. “We’ll go back to being just as useless and ineffective as we were before we got them.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Jim, the pastor, stuck his head in. “I saw you guys come in here. Am I interrupting anything?”

  Andy got to his feet. “No, come on in, Jim.”

  “I just wanted to ask you guys a favor. Tonight, I plan to have a testimony time in the service. I’d love to have the three of you talk about your miracle healings and how God’s been working in you ever since. Would you mind sharing that with the congregation?”

  Bree shot Andy an alarmed look. Carl just kept his eyes on his toes.

  “I don’t know how helpful we’d be, Jim.” Andy cleared his throat. “There must be someone better.”

  Jim laughed. “Are you kidding? Who? You’re the best example I’ve seen of the body of Christ in action.”

  Carl looked up. “I could say a few words.”

  Bree sighed. “Yeah, me too, for what it’s worth.”

  Andy was the last to give in. “All right. I’ll think of something to say.”

  When Jim had left them alone, they all stood there, staring at the door.

  “I can’t believe I agreed to that,” Andy said.

  “Me either.” Bree crossed her arms. “So I guess we’d better start planning what we’re going to say.”

  Andy sighed. “Well, I guess we tell them about the healing. God didn’t take that away from us, did he? My lungs and throat are fine. Carl can still walk. And you can see.”

  Light began to dawn in Bree’s heart. “You know . . . you’re right. The healing stands.”

  Carl got up. “And so does the fruit. God didn’t revoke that, did He?”

  Bree moved across the room and stood in front of both men. “Are we ungrateful, or what? Here I am feeling sorry for myself because I don’t have x-ray vision, and for all intents and purposes, I’m supposed to be blinded beyond help.”

  “Yeah, and I probably wouldn’t have walked for the rest of my life.” Carl’s eyes grew misty. “I feel like such a heel.”

  Andy laughed. “No pun intended?”

  They all grinned.

  “So He gave us the gifts for forty-eight hours,” Andy said. “I don’t think we need to feel punished because He took them back. We should feel blessed because He let us be a part of such a mighty work. And the truth is, we were all changed. I sure was.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Bree’s voice lowered to a soft whisper. “Now that I’ve had the chance to bear fruit, I don’t think I’ll ever go back to the way I was before.”

  “Nope.” Carl took both of their hands. “I think maybe we owe God a prayer, a word of thanks, and a petition for His Holy Spirit to help us keep serving Him.”

  So the three of them prayed.

  17

  BREE’S CHILDREN MET HER IN THE SANCTUARY AND sat on either side of her in one of the front pews. Andy and Carl sat down the row from her.

  As she sat there, warm gratitude washed over her that her life had been spared, that her children were fine, that her eyesight was as good as ever.

  But she was different.

  Thank You, Lord.

  They sang and praised the Lord, then Jim launched into his sermon. Finally, he turned to the trio and asked them to come to the pulpit. As they made their way up, the congregation grew silent.

  Andy took the lead. “Two days ago, the three of us were sitting in our office lounge after work, trying to get into a Bible study that was meant to be an outreach to our office. There was only one thing wrong. None of us had bothered to get the word out to the others in the office. So it was just us, and we were pretty pathetic. And then the earthquake came.”

  Emotion caught his words and twisted his face, and he cleared his throat. “We were buried together, under three floors of rubble. We thought we were going to die, but God had other plans.” He broke down and couldn’t go on.

  Carl stepped up to the microphone. “A fire broke out near Andy, and he had a lot of smoke inhalation, wrecking his vocal cords and his lungs. Bree had something shatter into her eyes, and she was blinded. My legs were crushed into what felt like a zillion pieces.” He held out his arms. “We have documented proof. X-rays. Paramedics who treated us. Doctors and nurses. But look at us now.”

  A slow applause started over the room, and Carl stepped back from the pulpit. Bree took the baton.

  “Once we were healed, we felt we needed to give God our best in return, so we’ve been going out for the past two days, under the power of the Holy Spirit, and He took us to places we ordinarily wouldn’t have gone. We met an elderly woman who’d had a stroke and was lying helpless on the floor. We met a woman who’d been abused by a violent husband. We met an alcoholic. We met a man whose pregnant wife had just lost their baby. We met a family who’d just buried their wife and mother.”

  She looked out over the congregation, and saw Sarah Manning sitting among several members. She was getting more comfortable with the crowds. Dr. John Fryer sat on the second row, his Bible open in his lap. Sam Jones sat near the back, all alone. And Lawrence Grisham sat in the center of the room, his somber children on either side of him.

  “I’m different now.” Bree struggled to keep her voice steady. “I don’t just look past your faces anymore. I see into them. I see people who are hurting, people who need help, people who need the Lord. I can’t get to them all, and neither can Carl or Andy. We did a lot together, but we need help. We need your gifts, all of them.”

  Andy nodded and stepped up to the mike again. “This morning, the Lord led me to a passage in Romans 12.”

  Bree caught her breath and gaped at him. That was what she had read!

  “I don’t believe it,” Carl whispered next to her. “I read that same passage.”

  Andy opened his Bible and started to read. “‘For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have
the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.’ I think He wanted us to tell you that we have the gifts we need, as long as we all use them together.”

  Bree’s eyes were full of tears when she moved next to Andy. “We all have gifts,” she said. “Every one of us who’s in Christ. Supernatural gifts, powered by the Holy Spirit.”

  Carl moved to stand on the other side of Andy. “There are lots of people out there hurting. Even before the earthquake, they were all around us. We just have to start looking . . . seeing . . . listening . . . going . . . telling . . .”

  “Since the earthquake, it’s going to be worse,” Andy said. “People need the Lord more than ever, and that means they need us. Pastor Jim told us that he wanted us to have a spiritual triage unit here, where the wounded and broken-hearted can come for help and healing. This should be the place where people know they’ll find Jesus.”

  The crowd sprang to their feet, applauding the task before them . . . and the One who had equipped them to fulfill it.

  18

  WHEN THE SERVICE ENDED, THE TRIO FOUND themselves surrounded by members who wanted to help with the spiritual triage, who just needed someone to point them in the right direction.

  Bree saw Sam Jones—the man whose wife had lost their baby—through the crowd, quietly waiting to talk to them. Bree excused herself from the conversation she was engaged in and made her way to him.

  “Hi, Sam. It’s good to see you back tonight.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Who would have thought I’d go to church twice in one day?”

  “Maybe soon you can bring your wife.”

  He smiled. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He slid his hands into his pockets and swallowed hard. “I was wondering if you guys would mind coming home with me to talk to my wife tonight? She’s there with her sister, and she’s still really depressed. She needs some hope . . . that maybe she’ll see our baby again someday. That she’ll get through this. That there’s light in the darkness.”