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Hope
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Hope
Happy needed some attention. “You are going to have at least a 3 hour wait,” the store manager smiled apologetically. “There are at least 5 people in line ahead of you.” I looked at his sad puffy eyes with deep circles under them and wondered what was wrong.
“I’ve had worse,” I said cheerfully. “My job is to do what God tells me to do. It’s really none of my business where God sends me. I guess He sent me here today. I’ll get my computer and work while I wait.”
As I sat down, I noticed that the television was on my least favorite station. The dark haired freckle faced little boy sitting on the couch apparently liked the station because he was laughing at the cartoons.
“Do you like this station?” I asked disdainfully.
“Yes, it’s my favorite,” he said enthusiastically. He proceeded to give a list of his favorite cartoons, all on this station. “Don’t you like it?”
“No,” I said. “I wanted to like it and but every time I watch it, it makes me mad!”
“Why?” he asked curiously.
I smiled. “Are you asking me why it makes me mad or why I wanted to like it?”
“Both,” he said, now more interested in me than the cartoon.
“Well, first I have to tell you that I love good cartoons. In fact, I love almost anything that children enjoy. When I watched this station the first time, I knew children liked it so I thought I would too. I watched it several times, hoping I’d like it better and it made me mad every time. People are mean to each other and yell. The children and adults don’t get along and they plot against each other. In my world, the children and adults love each other. Just watch. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”
We watched a few more minutes and the children got in a big fight and started calling each other mean gross names. “See what I mean?” I said. “My house is named Sanctuary and people aren’t allowed to talk to each other like that. In my family, we’re nice to each other. I feel bad when I watch this channel.”
“What kind of cartoons do you like?” he asked.
“I love anything made by Disney. I also like most of the super hero cartoons. I just don’t like cartoons that teach children to be mean.”
“What are you doing with that computer,” he asked.
“I’m a writer and I’m working on my book. It’s almost finished and I have to fix a couple of things.”
“What do you write about?” he asked.
“I write about people like you, people that God sends to me. I also write about God. Do you go to church?”
He shook his head wistfully. “I used to go to church when I lived in Michigan but I don’t go anymore.” I could tell I’d hit a nerve.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“Just a few weeks. My daddy is over there. He transferred here to run this store.” He pointed to the sad man who had said I had a 3-hour wait. “He grew up here. He says this is his city.” On the word "his," he pointed to his chest proudly.
“That’s what I say about Jacksonville, Florida,” I told him. “I say 'that’s my city.' Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Yes,” he said looking down, his voice growing quieter again. “I have 2 brothers and a sister. My sister stayed in Michigan with her boyfriend.”
“Are they older than you?” I asked.
“Lots older,” he said seriously. “My sister is 16. My brothers are in 8th grade and 6th grade. My brothers moved here but now they’re going back to Michigan with Mom.”
James seemed like he wanted to talk but I hesitated, asking God what to say next. Finally, I asked, “Why is your Mom moving back?”
“She got mad I guess, he said hanging his head, trying not to cry. “She and my brothers are moving in with her new boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “It sounds like you’re going to miss them. Adults do confusing things sometimes and it can hurt.” He nodded glumly. “It sounds like you miss your church too.” Again, he nodded. “Maybe you can tell your daddy that you want to go to church. My church helps me when I’m sad.”
His eyes lit up and he looked hopeful. “My name is in the Bible. I found it there!”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“It’s James. My daddy’s name is James too.”
“James is a disciple to Jesus. That means he followed Jesus and did what he said. Maybe you can do that too,” I said. “I like to guess children’s age. I’ll bet you’re 9 years old.”
“Almost,” he said proudly. “I’m eight.”
I asked. “Do you like quarters?”
“Yes,” he said. I looked over at his dad who had to be hearing this conversation. “May I give your son my card and quarter?”
“Sure,” he said.
“James, I give out quarters everywhere I go. If you have a pocket full of quarters, you’re prepared. I am giving you this quarter to help you remember to ask your daddy about church.”
“Wow,” he said reverently as he took the card and quarter. He removed the quarter from the slot. “It’s from New Mexico.”
“So James,” I asked, changing the subject. “Have you started school yet?”
“Yes,” he said. “I started last week.”
“How’s your new school? Do you like it?”
“Yes,” he beamed. “I love school.”
I noticed his uneaten lunch of what looked like fried mush. “Where is that from?” I asked, not recognizing the colorful box or the food inside.
“It’s chicken and fries from KFC,” he said. “Would you like some?” He moved the box of mush closer to me and I got a whiff of the smell that is so distinctive to KFC.
“No thanks but you’re nice to offer,” I said. “So what’s your favorite subject in school?”
“Math,” he said without hesitation. “I love math.”
“Are you doing division and multiplication yet?” I asked.
“No but I know how to do some problems. Look, this problem is easy,” he said pointing to a math problem on the side of the food box. Sure enough, he got the answer right. For the next few minutes, James and I did math problems and James really was quite good.
About that time, James’ father came over and collapsed on the couch with us. His nametag said Jim. “Jim,” I said. “Your son and I have become friends. He even offered to share his food. He’s a great kid!”
“Yes,” Jim said with a tired smile. “He really is. We have fun together.”
“She says Jacksonville’s her city,” James said as he dove into Jim and started tickling and air punching him. Jim kept talking while playing with James and we discussed where I was from and what I was doing.
“James told me his Mom and brothers are moving back to Michigan. He seems worried about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s hard,” I said sympathetically.
Jim’s shoulders sagged. “James and I have been alone before and we’ll survive. The two of us have always been together.”
“Is he your only child?” I asked, guessing the older children weren’t his.
“Yes, James is my only child. He and I are a team.” He put his arm around James and pulled him close.
“Jim,” I said hesitantly. “James mentioned he missed church. He said he went to church in Michigan. It doesn’t sound like you can fix the situation with his mom but it might help him if you get him back in church.”
“You’re right. I’ve been thinking about going but just haven’t gotten around to it. I don’t usually work on Sundays so we could go.”
“Are you a Christian?” I asked.
“Yes, I am,” he said.
“What kind of church are you looking for?”
“We went to a Baptist church before. As long as it is Christian, I don’t really care.”
“I visited a great church this morning, Calvary Community Church. It’s off Interstate 17.”
“That’s pretty near us,” Jim said with more energy than I’d heard before. “I’ve also noticed another church near our house that looks good.” He stopped for a moment and then added, “It would probably also help if I’d also get James back in Karate.”
“So you do Karate?” I asked looking at James.
“I’m a Green Belt!” James’ punches changed into Karate moves and Jim met every move with a counter move.
“Do you like your job here?” I asked Jim.
“I love it,” Jim said. “I feel like I’m really making a difference. It was a mess when I took over. I’m happy to be back here and out of the cold.”
When it was time to leave, I reminded Jim, “It sounds like you have plan--Church and Karate.” Jim agreed. I noticed he was standing straighter. Hope is a wonderful thing.
Ps 42:5
Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence. NASU
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