Angels Among Us 6r5f3k

Angels Among Us

Bryan Alan Stewart

Copyright © 2021 Bryan Alan Stewart All rights reserved First Edition Fulton Books, Inc. Meadville, PA Published by Fulton Books 2021 ISBN 978-1-63860-149-4 (paperback) ISBN 978-1-64952-341-9 (hardcover) ISBN 978-1-64952-340-2 (digital) Printed in the United States of America Honorable Mentions and Other Trademarks and Copyrighted Mentions 305

Acknowledgments

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. —Hebrews 13:2

These are true-life events experienced by myself and my family involving angels from heaven here on earth. I would like to give all thanks and praise and adoration to Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, Mediator and Advocate, Protector and Provider. Also, I thank my parents, Dr. Steve and Teresa Stewart, for loving me with God’s love and teaching us to seek Him in all things concerning life and holiness. For your continuous prayers and leadership. I love you, and I am so grateful that you are my Daddy and Mama. My wife, Tammy, I love you so much. You are a constant source of strength and encouragement. You are truly my help mate with your vision and art, giving with brilliant imagery to capture the lyrical content of the songs with which the Lord blesses me. Thank you for putting up with my theatrics over the years and for loving me nonetheless. I cherish every day with you. My children—Gaige, Trinity, and Jayden—you are my joy. It is a pleasure watching you grow and become young adults, each exuding artistry and music from your souls. I am always so proud to hear your songs or see your portraits. You each are extremely gifted. Keep writing and painting and playing your instruments. Give thanks always! I love you so much. And my wonderful, beautiful grandparents, who have my complete iration and who introduced me to music, which to this day inspires and stirs my soul, and to laughter. Allen and Helen Steele, continue to be a blessing on earth. The wonderful memories of Walter and Evelyn Stewart remain on earth as they live now in heaven.

Cover art by Tammy M Stewart, TMSDesigns2020 Sketch Illustrations by Trinity N Morrow FaithWorksProductions2020

Introduction

This book is a collection of true stories and personal encounters with angels and demons in my life. The son of a pastor, I asked Jesus into my heart at the age of six and was given the spiritual gift of discerning of spirits by the Holy Spirit.

There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills. (1 Corinthians 12:4–11)

I don’t know why, but even though I have failed Him so many times, God has saved my life so many more times than I have failed Him. He shows me how He saves me sometimes in the moment of the saving. Other times, He reveals how He has saved me in the past through memories and dreams. Throughout my life, I have heard the voices of angels with peace in their songs and alertness in their warnings. I have known their presence standing guard to protect me and my loved ones in times of trouble and strife. When I have stumbled and crumbled, I have felt them ministering and healing. There were dark times in my life where I could not see at all. A prodigal being played like a pawn on the devil’s chess board. Even when I chose to be the fool and not the wise, I was still in His forgiving, watchful eyes. And when I had distanced myself from Him by my acts of disobedience, giving a deaf ear to His direction, silence had replaced discernment. If it were not for the prayers of my parents, grandparents, and friends during those wayward seasons of my sojourn, I know I would not have made it on my own, yet I remained with an unseen hedge of protection

surrounding me. I want to make it clear before the chapters begin that I worship Jesus Christ and He alone. I bow my knee to Him and confess He is Lord—in fact, King of kings and Lord of lords! I will never bow to an angel or any demon from hell. In Revelation, John learns from his mistake of bowing to an angel:

“Then the angel said to me, ‘Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’ And he added, ‘These are the true words of God.’ At this I fell at his feet to worship him. But he said to me, ‘Don’t do that! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers and sisters who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For it is the Spirit of prophecy who bears testimony to Jesus.’” (Revelation 19:9–10 NIV)

Jesus Christ is Supreme above all things.

“Giving joyful thanks to the Father, Who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of His holy people in the kingdom of light. For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves, in Whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:12–17 EXP)

Jesus Christ is the Son of God.

“Who being the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the Word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high: Being made so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they. For unto which of the angels said He at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee? And again, I will be to Him a Father, and He shall be to me a Son? And again, when He bringeth in the Firstbegotten into the world, He saith, And let all the angels of God worship Him. And of the angels He saith, Who maketh His angels spirits, and His ministers a flame of fire.” (Hebrews 3:3–7 KJV)

Jesus Christ Alone can save us.

“And this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, Who has gone into heaven and is at God’s right hand—with angels, authorities and powers in submission to Him.” (1 Peter 3:21–22 NIV)

Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God, worthy of all our praise.

“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, Saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.” (Revelation 7:9–12 KJV)

This collection of personal encounters can only be made known by the Holy Spirit.

“But as it is written: ‘Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.’ But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God.” (1 Corinthians 2:9–10 NIV)

Table of Contents

Daddy’s Angel Mama’s Angel Invisible Friends Angel in the Army Angel on the Farm Angel in the jail cell Angels Watching Over Me Coffee with Angels Songs of Angels Ministering Spirits Angel and the horse No Brakes! The Tornado and the Angel Revealing Dreams More For Us Than Against Us Great a Cloud of Witnesses The Brunette, the Blonde, and the Redhead The Armor of God

Test the spirits The Trumpet WOE! There’s a Snake! Stoke the Fire The Final Fight

Acknowledgments

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. —Hebrews 13:2

These are true-life events experienced by myself and my family involving angels from heaven here on earth. I would like to give all thanks and praise and adoration to Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, Mediator and Advocate, Protector and Provider. Also, I thank my parents, Dr. Steve and Teresa Stewart, for loving me with God’s love and teaching us to seek Him in all things concerning life and holiness. For your continuous prayers and leadership. I love you, and I am so grateful that you are my Daddy and Mama. My wife, Tammy, I love you so much. You are a constant source of strength and encouragement. You are truly my help mate with your vision and art, giving with brilliant imagery to capture the lyrical content of the songs with which the Lord blesses me. Thank you for putting up with my theatrics over the years and for loving me nonetheless. I cherish every day with you. My children—Gaige, Trinity, and Jayden—you are my joy. It is a pleasure watching you grow and become young adults, each exuding artistry and music from your souls. I am always so proud to hear your songs or see your portraits. You each are extremely gifted. Keep writing and painting and playing your instruments. Give thanks always! I love you so much. And my wonderful, beautiful grandparents, who have my complete iration and who introduced me to music, which to this day inspires and stirs my soul, and to laughter. Allen and Helen Steele, continue to be a blessing on earth. The wonderful memories of Walter and Evelyn Stewart remain on earth as they live now in heaven.

Cover art by Tammy M Stewart, TMSDesigns2020 Sketch Illustrations by Trinity N Morrow FaithWorksProductions2020

Introduction

This book is a collection of true stories and personal encounters with angels and demons in my life. The son of a pastor, I asked Jesus into my heart at the age of six and was given the spiritual gift of discerning of spirits by the Holy Spirit.

There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills. (1 Corinthians 12:4–11)

I don’t know why, but even though I have failed Him so many times, God has saved my life so many more times than I have failed Him. He shows me how He saves me sometimes in the moment of the saving. Other times, He reveals how He has saved me in the past through memories and dreams. Throughout my life, I have heard the voices of angels with peace in their songs and alertness in their warnings. I have known their presence standing guard to protect me and my loved ones in times of trouble and strife. When I have stumbled and crumbled, I have felt them ministering and healing. There were dark times in my life where I could not see at all. A prodigal being played like a pawn on the devil’s chess board. Even when I chose to be the fool and not the wise, I was still in His forgiving, watchful eyes. And when I had distanced myself from Him by my acts of disobedience, giving a deaf ear to His direction, silence had replaced discernment. If it were not for the prayers of my parents, grandparents, and friends during those wayward seasons of my sojourn, I know I would not have made it on my own, yet I remained with an unseen hedge of protection

surrounding me. I want to make it clear before the chapters begin that I worship Jesus Christ and He alone. I bow my knee to Him and confess He is Lord—in fact, King of kings and Lord of lords! I will never bow to an angel or any demon from hell. In Revelation, John learns from his mistake of bowing to an angel:

“Then the angel said to me, ‘Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’ And he added, ‘These are the true words of God.’ At this I fell at his feet to worship him. But he said to me, ‘Don’t do that! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers and sisters who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God! For it is the Spirit of prophecy who bears testimony to Jesus.’” (Revelation 19:9–10 NIV)

Jesus Christ is Supreme above all things.

“Giving joyful thanks to the Father, Who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of His holy people in the kingdom of light. For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves, in Whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:12–17 EXP)

Jesus Christ is the Son of God.

“Who being the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the Word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high: Being made so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they. For unto which of the angels said He at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee? And again, I will be to Him a Father, and He shall be to me a Son? And again, when He bringeth in the Firstbegotten into the world, He saith, And let all the angels of God worship Him. And of the angels He saith, Who maketh His angels spirits, and His ministers a flame of fire.” (Hebrews 3:3–7 KJV)

Jesus Christ Alone can save us.

“And this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, Who has gone into heaven and is at God’s right hand—with angels, authorities and powers in submission to Him.” (1 Peter 3:21–22 NIV)

Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God, worthy of all our praise.

“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, Saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.” (Revelation 7:9–12 KJV)

This collection of personal encounters can only be made known by the Holy Spirit.

“But as it is written: ‘Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.’ But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God.” (1 Corinthians 2:9–10 NIV)

Chapter One

Daddy’s Angel

“God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, ‘What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there.’” —Genesis 21:17

I would not be here if it were not for my parents, and this book would not have been written. Interestingly, both my father and mother had encounters from heaven at early ages. Without angelic intervention, they may not have survived particular events, and obviously, there would not have been me. I begin this collection of true events with one of my dad’s.

Steve Walter Stewart was born on March 5, 1952, to Walter Callie and Evelyn Gardner Stewart at Elliot White Springs Hospital in Lancaster, South Carolina. As far as I know from listening to stories from Grandma about Daddy when he was a child, his health was mostly normal and uncomplicated for the first three years. But little Steve was three years old when he developed a peculiar and unbeknownst oddity for the doctors in 1955. The toddler’s blood seemed to just through his skin. Steve lost weight and strength and just lay in a hospital crib. One of the doctors working with Steve came to Evelyn and told her she should get family together, that Steve would probably not make it through the night. I can only imagine how it felt for a much younger Evelyn had been as she was surrounded with family in the hospital waiting room in 1955 as they prayed for her little Steve, praying that God would touch and heal and strengthen and lengthen the days of their son’s life. As they prayed, Evelyn then prayed as Christ did in the garden in the time of distress before the cross.

“Going a little farther, He fell with His face to the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.’” (Matthew 26:39)

This was Evelyn’s prayer. Doesn’t God always take us a little farther than we think we can go? The next morning, the doctors came to speak with the family. They all had puzzled expressions, dumbfounded in disbelief. They were scratching their heads and had no rational explanation for what had happened. They told Evelyn she could go in and see her son. As she pushed open the door to his room, Steve, with all the strength he could muster, pulled himself up on those crib bars with new strength, exclaiming, “Mama! Jesus touched me!” What an experience it must have been to have a three-year-old clearly testify with certainty about the healing touch of Jesus. How could a three-year-old know that Jesus healed with the touch of His hand unless he, surely, had been touched by Jesus and was made whole?

“Then He touched their eyes, saying, ‘According to your faith let it be to you.’” (Matthew 9:29)

“But Jesus came and touched them and said, ‘Arise, and do not be afraid.’” (Matthew 17:7)

“So Jesus had comion and touched their eyes. And immediately their eyes received sight, and they followed Him.” (Matthew 20:34)

Throughout the Old Testament, one of the titles of Jesus is “the angel of the Lord.” There is a distinct difference between “an angel” of the Lord, and “the angel” of the Lord, as referenced in the Bible. Here is an example found in Genesis 22:11: “But the Angel of the Lord called out to him from heaven, ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied.” And here is another in verse 15: “The angel of the Lord called to Abraham from

heaven a second time.” In Exodus, He spoke to Moses: “There the Angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up.” In Judges 6, He appeared to Gideon: “The Angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, “Mighty hero, the Lord is with you!” In Genesis 21:17, He appeared to a young mother, sparing the life of her child: “God heard the boy crying, and the Angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, ‘What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there.’” My daddy, Dr. Steve Walter Stewart, became an ordained minister in 1977. He has pastored seven churches, the last as a founding pastor. Recently resigned after forty years of pastoral service, he continues evangelism as a professor at Fruitland Baptist Bible College in North Carolina. The lives that were changed and the souls that were saved will only be known in heaven one day. I know I am counted in that number, and I am so thankful. I am so truly blessed to have been born to Steve Walter and Teresa Anne Stewart at Elliot White Springs Hospital, Lancaster, South Carolina. June 20, 1974. Grandma Stewart and I share the same birthday, so I was her “birthday boy,” something I had over all my cousins. But there was a deeper connection with Grandma when looking into those pale-blue eyes of love that could see things that others overlooked. The bond between loved ones we care for deeply has been displayed in miraculous ways. One such occasion occurred in 1995. Grandma was still living in that red brick house on Knotty Pine Lane in Lancaster, with the green metal chairs faded from years of facing the sun. My brother, Joshua, and I had so much fun jumping from Grandma’s porch and into the soft bushes below. I can still close my eyes and hear the laughter from years gone by of family gathered at Grandma’s house. She always had the candy dishes full of assorted hard candies and peanut butter bars. It always had the same smells and framed family pictures all throughout every room. She had a large framed painting of the Lord’s Supper on the wall by the dining room table in the kitchen, which, if it was not overflowing with delicious holiday dishes, would have her large print Holy Bible open as she read it every day. On this

spring day in 1995, I was living in Garland, Texas, where I had gotten myself in some trouble and was sitting in a jail cell 1,200 miles away from Knotty Pine Lane. Yet Grandma called Dad and told him, “Bryan is in jail.” How did Grandma know I was in jail? Did she see it in a vision or a dream? Was she told it by a still small voice, audible to the ear, clear to the soul?

Steve Stewart 1955 age 3

The birthday boy and Grandma (1989).

Chapter Two

Mama’s Angel

“For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” —Psalm 91:11

Teresa Anne Harrington was born on January 26, 1955 (just over a month before my father would turn three), to Helen Brawley Steele and raised by her and Leanard Allen Steele in Statesville, North Carolina. Mama’s encounter was not in a hospital room, nor was it a direct touch of healing. It happened a few years later in her life than that of Daddy. When Mama was a young girl, about eight or nine years old, she was with her aunt Jane. Jane was just a few years older than Teresa, so they grew up more like sisters. They had ventured down to Henrietta’s for the day and were playing in the creek. Henrietta was a family friend who helped Nanny around the house and kept an eye on the girls when she and Grandpa Brawley were at work. Back then, the way a lot of mountain folk kept their milk, cheese, and meats “refrigerated” was by digging a large cavern in the side of a creek bed, where it would stay cool enough due to the cold flowing water. Henrietta would always come out and wave at them and get their attention and tell them to stay on this side of the creek because the land was very marshy and had known places of quicksand. Teresa and Jane had enjoyed some cheese and cold milk and usually, by now, they would have seen Henrietta. But there had been no sight of her yet that afternoon. The girls grabbed some creek pebbles and skipped them across the top of the water, lay back on the bank, and watched birds land on branches above them and squirrels scamper across the leaves and up the trees. The many sounds of the forest on the other side of the creek beckoned them to come play with the rabbits and chipmunks and turtles and birds. Jane looked at Teresa and said, “Hey, we’ve never been to the other side of the creek. We should go exploring.” Teresa replied, “But you know they told us never to go to the other side. We could get into quicksand.”

The urging continued from Jane. “Maybe we can find some muscadine grapes or apples or pears.” With no watchful eye of Henrietta, coupled with Jane’s incessant pressuring, Teresa gave in. “Okay, okay.” Just as they were about to cross the creek, they looked toward the house, and there was none other than Henrietta waving at them. They waved back and played a little longer in the creek, not daring to go to the other side, for Henrietta was now there watching them. Teresa and Jane lazily made their way back to Nanny’s that summer evening. As they were all gathered around the table while dinner was being served, Nanny asked, “Well, girls, what did you do today?” “Well, we played in the creek and saw Henrietta,” Jane said. Nanny and Grandma looked at each other quickly, and everyone became quiet and somber. Nanny looked at them and said, “Girls, we didn’t know how to tell you, but Henrietta died last night.” So who was it that Aunt Jane and Mama saw that day? They both knew they had seen Henrietta. I believe firmly that my mama’s guardian angel appeared in the form of Henrietta at just the right moment to keep them from going into certain danger. “For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” Some more personal encounters are noted in Daniel. In Daniel 8:15, the prophet had seen a deep and perplexing vision concerning Israel and the end time: “While I, Daniel, was watching the vision and trying to understand it, there before me stood one who looked like a man. And I heard a man’s voice from the Ulai calling, ‘Gabriel, tell this man the meaning of the vision.’” This same angel Daniel recognized later (Daniel 9:21): “While I was still in prayer, Gabriel, the man I had seen in the earlier vision, came to me in swift flight about the time of the evening sacrifice.” This angel was also sent to Zechariah when John the Baptist was to be

conceived.

“Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born. He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” Zechariah asked the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.” The angel said to him, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news.” (Luke 1:11–19)

And this same angel by the name of Gabriel is also the messenger heralding the wonderful news to Mary that she would be the mother of the Messiah.

“In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” (Luke 1:26–28)

My mother was born to be a pastor’s wife and mother of three. She has mothered and counseled countless hurting hearts in her years of service to her Savior. She has been watched over and protected, as we all are, having the favor and help of

the Father.

“Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her” (Proverbs 31:28).

Top left: Helen Steele, Nanny Brawley, Aunt Dot. Bottom left: Aunt Jane holding Joshua, Aunt Sarah, Bryan Stewart, Teresa Stewart (1982).

Steve and Teresa Stewart at Ordination (1979).

Sunday school (1982), age eight.

Chapter Three

Invisible Friends

“Christ Himself is the Creator Who made everything in heaven and earth, the things we can see and the things we can’t; the spirit world with its kings and kingdoms, its rulers and authorities; all were made by Christ for His own use and glory.” —Colossians 1:16

I am amazed at how our memory works. A scent can immediately take us to an exact event from the past with such imagery and detail as if we’ve been transported right into that very room and to that very time. A certain song plays, and there you are on the dance floor years ago. A specific spice may cause you to reminisce of your mother’s Christmas treats. You see children playing football in the snow, and for a moment, you are back in the yard with your brother and father, tossing the old pigskin around on a Thanksgiving afternoon. A fond memory can causes us to smile. These flashes from the past come at times to bring us joy and cheer when we need them to. We don’t conjure them up. They just happen on their own times in our lives, bringing insight and comfort. It strikes me as uncanny that we have the ability to recall events in such vivid detail as early as three years old. In some cases, the memory is jogged by a direct question, causing us to search back to a time and place from the past. We hear “Do you when…?” and instantly we and even feel how we felt in that moment. It was one such question posed by Grandma Stewart that brought to mind from my childhood a time of entertaining angels. It was December 2007, just days before Christmas. It was so wonderful to be at Grandma’s house for the holiday! My wife, Tammy, and my kids, Gaige, Trinity, and Jayden, and I had traveled from Texas to spend Christmas with my family in South Carolina. It was early evening, and I was comfortably rocking in Grandma’s rocking chair as she lounged in her recliner, listening to her greatgrandchildren playing in the backyard, just as my brother, Joshua, and I had done so many times at their age. I wasn’t a kid anymore. Now thirty-three, I sat in Grandma’s living room, watching the Wheel of Fortune.

Grandma called my name, “Bryan?” I looked into her wise blue eyes, and she continued, “Do you having invisible friends?” I stopped rocking, thought about the question for a moment, and then with an almost timid laugh, said, “Yeah, I do.” I hadn’t thought about this or had a conversation with them for about twenty-five years. I looked out the window at my children running around and falling in piles of leaves, just like Josh and I used to do. Trinity had turned six in October, the same age I was when I first noticed their presence. It was 1980, and I was six years old. My father was pastoring in his first church, New Haven Baptist, in South Carolina. He was bringing the message of hope from the pulpit on that Easter Sunday morning. After hearing what Jesus did on the cross for me, I responded by going to the altar when the invitation was given. I kneeled with my Daddy, and he led me in the prayer asking Jesus into my heart. I was baptized the following Sunday and began an ever deepening relationship with every day that went by. Being a preacher’s kid gave me a different way of thinking than most other kids in public school. Whenever class would be in recess, I would separate myself from the other students and talk with angels. I two distinct voices, but one was more vocal. We would talk about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and also about Noah building the ark and the animals that boarded two by two before the rain started to fall on the earth. We spoke of missionaries all around the world and what it was like in other countries where they took the Word of Life. We discussed all the things I desired to do for God. This time in my early childhood allowed me to have a solid foundation of unshakeable faith for my entire life. Through every trial and tribulation, over every mountain, and through every valley, through every storm, every pain, and every loss, I have a Friend that sticks closer than a brother! The conversations with my “invisible friends” must not have been isolated to the school’s playground since the question had been asked by my grandmother. Perhaps she had observed or even listened in on a conversation or two between me and my friends. What caused her to, at that time of my life, ask me about such things? Whatever it was it made me the childlike faith, the sound of feathers ruffling in

the gentle breeze, the strong voice dispelling any fear, anxiety, worry, or doubt. It gave me confidence. “You are no different than David, who brought down the giant Goliath.” It was an awareness of guardians, the answer to my parents’ prayers that God would put this hedge of protection around me and my brother. He had provided a Solid Rock of protection! So many times, God has spared my life in such incredible ways that I, like the apostle Paul, exclaim, “For this reason I also suffer these things; nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day” (2 Timothy 1:12). Yet maybe I had become weak because I was lacking in joy, had grown weary while doing good, was losing patience with everything and everyone, and had forgotten where my Help comes from. Sometimes we fail to see what is right in front of our eyes. When obstacles and frustrations slow us down or impede our progress, causing pain and aggravation, perhaps there is someone in our path trying to get our attention. An example from scripture is found in Numbers 22:20–35:

“And God came to Balaam at night and said to him, ‘If the men come to call you, rise and go with them; but only the word which I speak to you—that you shall do.’ So Balaam rose in the morning, saddled his donkey, and went with the princes of Moab. Then God’s anger was aroused because he went, and the Angel of the Lord took His stand in the way as an adversary against him. And he was riding on his donkey, and his two servants were with him. Now the donkey saw the Angel of the Lord standing in the way with His drawn sword in His hand, and the donkey turned aside out of the way and went into the field. So Balaam struck the donkey to turn her back onto the road. Then the Angel of the Lord stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on this side and a wall on that side. And when the donkey saw the Angel of the Lord, she pushed herself against the wall and crushed Balaam’s foot against the wall; so he struck her again. Then the Angel of the Lord went further, and stood in a narrow place where there was no way to turn either to the right hand or to the left. And when the donkey saw the Angel of the Lord, she lay down under Balaam; so Balaam’s anger was aroused, and he struck the donkey with his staff. Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, ‘What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?’ And Balaam said to the donkey, ‘Because you have

abused me. I wish there were a sword in my hand, for now I would kill you!’ So the donkey said to Balaam, ‘Am I not your donkey on which you have ridden, ever since I became yours, to this day? Was I ever disposed to do this to you?’ And he said, ‘No.’ Then the Lord opened Balaam’s eyes, and he saw the Angel of the Lord standing in the way with His drawn sword in His hand; and he bowed his head and fell flat on his face. And the Angel of the Lord said to him, ‘Why have you struck your donkey these three times? Behold, I have come out to stand against you, because your way is perverse before Me. The donkey saw Me and turned aside from Me these three times. If she had not turned aside from Me, surely I would also have killed you by now, and let her live.’ And Balaam said to the Angel of the Lord, ‘I have sinned, for I did not know You stood in the way against me. Now therefore, if it displeases You, I will turn back.’ Then the Angel of the Lord said to Balaam, ‘Go with the men, but only the Word that I speak to you, that you shall speak.’ So Balaam went with the princes of Balak.”

Unforeseen situations or uncontrolled circumstances that seem to be stopping your progress could be protecting you from terrible Troubles right up the road. Disobedience can also be the cause of delay to our destination. Just as Jonah discovered in the belly of a whale, you cannot run from God or from where He wants to take you. Submission to God’s direction is far better than the suffering that comes from not yielding to His purpose. And what is that purpose? To be imitators of Jesus, to be Christlike, to love like Him, to be joyful as He is. Walk wearing the gospel of peace with the Prince of Peace. Be patient, gentle, and kind. Live meekly. Be faithful. Be wise, and use self-control. When we choose the wrong road, we have an Advocate with the Father! Confess your faults to one another and to God, for He will forgive you, pick you up, and guide you on the correct path. So as we focus on Jesus and learn from His character, He gives us strength to face each day and the ability to rise above all challenges that come our way. He is always there to catch us if we fall. He is the Everlasting Arm to hold on to when we’re sinking in the storm, our Ever-Present Help in time of need.

We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God’s original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of

angels—everything got started in Him and finds its purpose in Him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, He organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body.” (Colossians 1:15–18 MSG)

Grandma’s question helped me a closer relationship, a sharper discernment, and an absolute bulletproof faith; and awareness and alertness were renewed. I needed that reminder. I began to listen a little closer. I wanted to hear again.

Grandpa and Granny Gardner (1949).

Grandma Stewart’s house, Christmas 2007.

Chapter Four

Angel in the Army

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” —Ecclesiastes 3:1

I enlisted in the US Army after graduating from high school in June 1992. Not only was my father’s pastoring impressed upon me but also did his patriotism. I enlisted in the infantry (airborne) with lofty hopes of becoming an airborne ranger. And now the day had arrived. Daddy, Mama, Josh, and I ate our last meal together for a while. Hugs had been given and tears had been shed, and I boarded the plane en route to Fortson, Georgia, where my uncle Curtis picked me up upon my arrival and drove me to Fort Benning. The next few days were a whirlwind of events—getting G. I. BDUs, Class As, socks and boots, shots and immunizations, dog tags, and the blues. Then came the push-ups, the running, the pull-ups, the gunning, grenades and gas chambers, chemical and biological dangers, cadence raps, hand-to-hand combat, boot camp, advanced individual training, jump school. It was on my second descent from the jump tower that I suffered an ankle injury that ended my quest to be one of the military’s elite. I found myself on crutches on the sidelines of morning exercise. I had become the cheering section for my platoon. Prior to the fractured ankle, the camaraderie was strong in Echo Company. As I had been leading devotions after mail call in the evenings and praying with fellow soldiers in training, always reading from my Gideon Bible with a camouflage covering when waiting in line at the mess hall or waiting my turn at the firing range, I was given the nickname holy man. Now on crutches, I was easy to spot me around Sand Hill. As I would go to the PX for stationary to write home and a candy bar and Gatorade or down to the chapel for some solitude, I would be stopped by a private from another company and battalion. “Hey, you’re the holy man, yeah? I was wondering if you would pray with me for my girl back home.” That was the most common prayer request—for a relationship left behind. Many times, it involved a child or one on the way. Most of us were fresh out of high school and, for the first time, were away from our mother and father and the luxury of being taken care of. It was a shock to our system physically, mentally,

emotionally, and spiritually. The roller coaster of emotions only intensified with letters from home with news of breakups and sicknesses, leaving many feeling hopeless and crushed in spirit. I had such an opportunity to minister to the hearts of these young men who had given their lives to serve this great nation. It was early Sunday morning, so I had breakfast and made my way down to the chapel. The first to arrive, I took a seat on a pew and read from the Daily Bread. After a short time, privates and corporals began taking their seats around the chapel and fellowshipping with one another. About twenty minutes after the hour of service, no chaplain had shown up. We continued to sit and wait several more minutes. That was when I heard the strong voice I hadn’t heard since I was eight years old. Springdell Baptist Church in Lancaster, South Carolina, was having its homecoming service in 1982. My father and mother were led to the Lord by Kelly Burris, the pastor of this church in 1977, and Daddy had been ordained at Springdell. He was one of the guest preacher’s at the homecoming. I always loved going up the steps to the large front doors, greeted by the elder deacon with a butterscotch candy. Walking into the soft yellow glow of the chandelier in the foyer, I could smell the spice and hear the sound of the pipe organ playing “It Is Well with My Soul.” Around the corner of the sanctuary’s entrance was the wall of portraits of previous pastors. Service had been a wonderful time of songs from special singers as well as the adult choir. Pastors that grew up at Springdale and some that had been ordained there, like my dad, gave testimony and brought word from the pulpit of how God was performing great things wherever He had led them to serve. After service and fellowship, the congregation moved to the dining hall to share in the potluck lunch and enjoy more testimony. As everyone had moved from fried chicken, pot roast, casseroles, and salads to banana pudding, pies, cakes, cookies, and delicious desserts prepared by the women of the church, the men started setting up the podium and seats for continuation of celebration. As the church family finished eating and cleaning up, everyone began taking their seats. In quiet observance while eating the last few bites of my pecan pie, I heard that all familiar voice: “Read to the people from the gospel of Matthew.”

I went to my Daddy, who had taken a seat with the other pastors on the front row of folding chairs, eager to give their testimony. As I approached, he was reading from his Bible and the notes he had written that God had pressed upon his heart to deliver to this body of believers. I waited for my father’s attention, and when he looked at me, I said, “Daddy, I have a message to give.” He asked, “Are you sure?” And I nodded yes. He told me to sit in the chair next to him and wait for service to begin. Minutes later, my dad stood and approached the pulpit. He placed his Bible atop the podium and said, “Before I begin, my son, Bryan, has a word for us.” I stood with my children’s Bible and opened it to Matthew 1. All I knew was that I was to read from Matthew, and it only made sense for me to start at chapter 1. So I started reading the genealogy of Jesus as penned by the disciple Matthew. I would pronounce a name and look to my dad quickly with questioning eyes. “Did I say that right?” And Daddy would nod reassuringly to me. To my eightyear-old mind, getting through four verses was equivalent to a thirty-minute sermon. That was how far I got—four verses and then the name Amminadab. I struggled a couple of attempts, and Daddy rose from his chair, stood beside me with his hand on my shoulder, and then continued to read a few verses of who begot whom. Then he patted my back, and I hurried to the seat next to my Mama. Daddy then said, “As Bryan has brought to our attention these men and women mentioned here in the first chapter of Matthew, this shows us that all you need is to be in the family of God through His Son, Jesus, and your names are forever written and recorded in the only book that matters—the Lamb’s Book of Life. Aren’t you glad your name is written in that book today?” There came boisterous “Amen!” from those gathered together that day. I ed it had been the same, strong voice. As I sat there in the army chapel, it occurred to me for the first time that the voice was not unlike that of one of the drill sergeants at Fort Benning. No, it was more commanding than that of a sergeant, more authoritative, delivering direct instruction. I have envisioned how this angel would appear. If I could see with my physical eyes what my ears have heard and my heart discerned, what would it be like to have an experience

like the one mentioned in Joshua 5?

“Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, ‘Are you for us or for our enemies?’ ‘Neither,’ he replied, ‘but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.’ Then Joshua fell face down to the ground in reverence, and asked him, ‘What message does my Lord have for his servant?’ The commander of the Lord’s army replied, ‘Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.’ And Joshua did so.”

Commander of the Lord’s Army! That supersedes any title here on earth for sure. Angels have different ranks and duties performed in obedience to God. Some are swift messengers, bringing news of comfort and joy. Some sing songs that awaken our spirits. Some come to stir the water and bring strength and healing. And some come not to take sides but to take over our situation. As I sat in the chapel, the voice spoke to me again. “Read to the men from the book of Ecclesiastes,” he said. So I stood with my crutches and went to the pulpit. We sang “Amazing Grace” a cappella to open. I asked if there were any prayer requests, and about thirty brothers in fatigues and class As put their personal needs up for prayer. After praying, I asked what battalions and regiments were represented that morning in worshipping the Lord. When someone mentioned Second Battalion, Fifty-Eighth Infantry, there was a big “Huya!” I said, “I’m sure everyone in Sand Hill has heard of Drill Sergeant Clark, a.k.a. Super Drill, and I have heard he also calls himself a god. Well, I can assure you he is not God!” The soldiers laughed. Then I asked if anyone had any specific ponderings or questions that I might try to help answer from the Bible.

One man raised his hand and said, “When I came here to train to be a soldier, I was all gung ho and ready to chop down some terrorist. But what if I have to kill somebody? How does God feel about that? Will I be judged for that?” So I opened my camo-bound Bible to Ecclesiastes 3 and started reading:

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure for ever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him. Whatever is has already been, and what will be has been before; and God will

call the past to . And I saw something else under the sun: in the place of judgment—wickedness was there, in the place of justice— wickedness was there. I said to myself, ‘God will bring into judgment both the righteous and the wicked, for there will be a time for every activity, a time to judge every deed.’ I also said to myself, ‘As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: as one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?’ So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?”

I looked around the chapel at the faces of the young soldiers, knowing very shortly many of them would be in another country on missions of war against Saudi Arabia’s dictator Saddam Hussein. Operation Desert Shield was already being carried out and would be followed by Operation Desert Storm. I said to the soldiers, “There is a time and a purpose for everything. But King Solomon concludes this message saying, ‘Enjoy your work.’ Be happy and be at peace with what you do. If you are called on to take out an enemy, that is your duty. Let the time serve the purpose. No matter if you are here or overseas or home with your family, the only true source of peace and joy, love and forgiveness is found in knowing and having a relationship with Jesus Christ. If

you have never made this step in your life, I encourage you to come to this altar, and I will pray with you.” Two soldiers gave their hearts to the Lord that day. Whatever battles they were facing that brought them to the army chapel were put to silence when the angel showed up that morning to take command.

Rev. Kelly Burris and Rev. Steve W. Stewart, September 23, 1979, Daddy’s ordination at Springdell Baptist Church, Lancaster, SC.

Fort Benning, Georgia (1992), training to be a good soldier to protect America.

Army chapel, where soldiers find peace and character.

Bryan and Joshua Stewart (1992).

Chapter Five

Angel on the Farm

“Praise the Lord, you His angels, you mighty ones who do His bidding, who obey His word.” —Psalm 103:20

It was a bitter cold morning on that North Carolina saddlebred farm. It was the week of Thanksgiving 2002. Close to two feet of snow had fallen the night before, and the earth glistened white. So I dressed accordingly: long johns, jeans, flannel shirt, hoodie, toboggan under the hood, gloves, and mud boots. I looked like the Michelin man. I felt like an astronaut on the moon. The bosses decided to just feed grain and give hay to the horses, clean the stalls, and enjoy the rest of the day, and stay warm! I figured that in a couple of hours, I could kick back with a nice hot cup of cocoa with the love of my life, Tammy. The team of farm hands and groomers breezed through the stalls, and I, as I did every day at the conclusion of our chores around the fifty-acre farm, drove the tractor with the manure spreader up the hill to empty the muck from the stalls. A bone-chilling shiver shook my body as I drove up the hill and out of sight of the show horses’ barn and arena below. I thought, Man, it’s cold! I’m glad I wore the extra layers. Can’t wait for that cocoa! I pulled the tractor around the mountain of manure-filled shavings and backed up to where I was going to empty today’s waste. Now the spreader wagon was a twenty-foot PTO-driven New Holland manure spreader with bed rakes and beaters. All parts turned by the rotation of the PTO (power take off) shaft. This shaft was hooked up to the tractor, and when engaged, it turned at the speed the tractor was running. The tractor was a Case II equipped with front end loader and was a big powerful machine. Humming at twenty-four revolutions per minute, the spreader was doing its job. Now, as on every farm, there was that one piece of equipment that had its special quirks and required that extra attention, and it was the front of the spreader wagon. There was a rusted area on the front of the spreader about the size of a soccer ball. To keep shavings and horse turds from falling out, I kept a piece of plyboard over the hole. When I engaged the PTO from the tractor and set the

speed, I would climb down, and after allowing the bed rakes to move some of the weight off the board, I would remove it from the spreader and allow the bed to empty. So, as every day before, I removed the board, but when I turned to walk away, I couldn’t move. I turned to see that my coat had gotten caught in a spinning bar that turned the rear beaters on the spreader. My immediate instinct was to grab the bar. This only made matters worse, because both my coat sleeves began turning with the bar. Now I was being pulled down toward the churning parts. It was in this moment of no way out that I began having flashes, like a quickplaying slide show, of my Grandma, my Mama, my wife, my children. I thought, I’m going to die. I was being crushed. I was blacking out, and I could barely breathe. I saw the stark contrast of my red blood splattered across the beautiful white snow, thinking that was how I would be found. With the last bit of air left in my lungs, I called, “Jesus!”

“So is My Word that goes out from My mouth: it will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:11)

“For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” (Romans 10:13)

I am unsure as to how long I stood crumpled over, a tangled mess. I could hear the tractor still revved up. I could see my belt buckle lying on the ground. My legs were wobbly. I was in a daze. Then I heard the John Deere Gator coming up the hill. It was my boss, Peter. I watched him drive up to the tractor and heard him say something, but I couldn’t decipher the words over the tractor’s hum. He got out of the gator and then saw my predicament for the first time. He quickly turned the tractor off. He asked if I was okay, and I could just shrug.

Trying to make light of what could have been a disastrous situation, he said, “Don’t go nowhere.” I gave a half-hearted mock laugh. He said, “I need to go get Kim to help get you cut out.” Several moments went by. I leaned on the spreader. I didn’t feel cold anymore. Eventually, Peter and Kim came back up the hill. As Kim saw the magnitude of what had happened, she exclaimed, “He’s shaking, Peter! His face is as white as snow. He is probably in shock! Oh my God, Bryan! Somebody was watching over you. There is no other reason you are alive! I would have had to tell your wife you were dead. I can’t believe this. It wasn’t your time to go.” She was saying all this while cutting my tangled coat, shirt, and jeans to free me from being bound to the spreader. The next morning, I thought for sure I would have to replace the clutch on the tractor or sheered pins or belt on the spreader. To my surprise, there were no issues that needed fixing on either. I can only imagine that when I named the name above every name, the King of kings and Lord of lords, an angel was assigned to me, ensuring that God’s Word (in this case, “whoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved”) would be fulfilled. I can just see the mighty angel grab ahold of that PTO shaft to keep it from turning until Peter made it up the hill and shut the tractor off. My life was spared. I was given another day—and many since then. Each day is a gift, and I have a thankful heart because of that day on the farm. And I was once again assured that there are angels among us.

Tractor and spreader—you do not want to get caught up in merciless machinery.

Christmas morning of 2002 was a blessing to share with Tammy, Gaige, and Trinity.

Chapter Six

Angel in the jail cell

“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” —Hebrews 13:2

In May of 1995, I was working on a musical project with a friend, Vaughan Garrett, in Garland, Texas. We had been writing and recording songs based on the Creation in Genesis. This particular week in May, my collaboration partner was out of town, and I had a blank check from his ledger. Call it an act of haste on my part, maybe a bit of naivety, or just not counting the cost, but I forged his name on the check and tried to cash it at the bank. I learned the hard way that even in our actions of disobedience, wrongdoing, and sin, God can use us for His glory in those difficult times of correction. I was sitting in jail, awaiting arraignment for forgery. I think both Vaughan and I felt Betrayal in our own painful way. My Grandma Stewart, 1,200 miles away called my dad and told him I was in jail. I still do not know how she knew, but she did. It just so happened to be Good Friday when I was arrested. When dinner was brought to the housing unit, by no coincidence, we were served chili with packages of crackers and fruit punch for the drink. I asked for any uneaten crackers and filled up an empty peanut butter jar with fruit punch. Later that evening, I invited anyone who wished to participate in the Lord’s Supper, being that it was the day of Christ’s crucifixion. I announced that I would have the Lord’s Supper in thirty minutes. No one responded. The section of the jail I was being held in was known as the West Tower, a seventy-two-hour holdover while awaiting arraignment. After seeing a magistrate, there was possibility to post bail, but it would not be until Monday before court would start up again. I had been told that because of the influx of arrests, many inmates had been waiting in the West Tower for arraignment for two to three weeks. So it seemed I could be here for a while. I gathered the crackers and got the jar of juice, grabbed my Bible, and sat at one of the metal tables in the middle of the cell. Men were watching from all around the room and their bunks; some lay reading a book or watching the small TV in the common area. The first to me at the table was an older gray-haired black man. He sat down

across from me and said, “I have been watching you. There is a blue aura around you. Blue is the color of peace. You are surrounded by peace.” I had never been told this before, about an aura, and I noticed this man’s eyes had a certain glow to them that was unnatural. Yet I found great comfort by the tone of his words and the light of kindness in his eyes. He said, “Do not be discouraged. Follow through with the Lord’s Supper.” It had been thirty minutes since the first announcement was given, so I stood up and said, “Okay, the time has come. If anyone would like to participate in the Lord’s Supper, please come to the table.” I was shocked as I watched every man in the cell get out of bed or arise from watching the TV or from playing card games and begin making their way to the tables around us. I told them all to bring their cups with them so I could pour some of the punch for each of them. I picked up the Bible I had requested and was given when I first arrived in the jail and opened it to 1 Corinthians 11. I read aloud verses 24–28.

“For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus the same night in which He was betrayed took bread: And when He had given thanks, He brake it, and said, ‘Take, eat: this is My body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of Me.’ After the same manner also He took the cup, when He had supped, saying, ‘this cup is the new testament in My blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of Me.’ For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till He come. Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup.”

I asked that we all pause and reflect and anything that needed to be taken to the Lord should be done so before we poured the juice. Heads were bowed, and prayers were prayed for forgiveness. When every man had lifted his eyes, I began pouring the fruit punch into their cups. The gray-haired man with the intense eyes said, “I think they wish to be included.”

I looked through the jail cell bars to the cell across the hall, and every man had their cup stretched out from their cell. I was going to lid the jar and roll it across the hallway to them, but as if on cue, a corrections officer came into the hallway. I asked him if he would pour the juice into the men’s cups, for we were having the Lord’s Supper. He, at first, resisted with a perplexed look on his face, but then seeing all the men with their cups in hand, desiring to be participants, he took the jar and gave each of them some punch. I thanked him, broke the crackers, and let them go to each man. I read again, “Take, eat: this is My body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of Me.” Everyone ate the cracker. “This cup is the new testament in My blood: this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of Me.” Everyone drank the juice. Then applause erupted from both jail cells, and everyone went back to what they had been doing, except one man. He wanted to know more about Jesus. I had the honor over the next couple of hours of introducing the man to Jesus. He prayed the sinner’s prayer and asked Jesus into his heart right there in the middle of that jail cell. TVs were off, and lights were out. Most men were asleep with the exception of a card game or two being played. I was lying on my bunk, still reeling from leading someone to the Lord. I was nodding off when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see the gray-haired gentleman standing next to the bed. I got up, and we went to one of the tables and sat across from each other. As he began speaking to me, I noticed he did not look into my eyes directly although that sparkle was still in his. He looked past me at the wall behind me. As he spoke, his hands were together as if in prayer, and they shook as he received the words he gave to me. He said, “I see a young woman who has been crying for you. I see her surrounded by God’s love, sleeping peacefully now.” I knew he was speaking of Tammy, who had been a mess since my arrest. As he continued gazing above my head, the shaking of his hands growing more intense, he said, “I see you and another man loading a van with musical equipment—drums, a keyboard, speakers. The van is not new, with side doors, but an older van with doors swinging open in the back. That is where you are putting the instruments.”

“Who maketh His angels spirits; His ministers a flaming fire.” (Psalm 104:4)

“But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought them out.” (Acts 5:19)

The next morning, when breakfast was brought in, I looked for the gray-haired man, but he was nowhere in the cell. His bunk was made, but he was not in it. It seemed too early for visitation hours. Maybe he had gone to the infirmary, I wondered. The day went on, and we ed the time with card games and chess tournaments. Lunch was served, and still the old man had not returned. It was around 2:00 p.m. when a corrections guard came to the door and called my name. He told me to pack my belongings, that I was being moved. I was sad that I would not see the gray-haired man again, but I went to gather my things. The guard came back about thirty minutes later and called for me. I noticed an envelope with my name on it; it had a large red stamp that said, “Expedite.” This word meant that my case would be dealt with sooner. To my astonishment, I was being released! On a Saturday and without having seen a magistrate or being arraigned! I was just being let go. When I finally walked out the front door, Tammy came running up to me, embracing me with tears in her eyes. A dear friend of mine had picked her up in a van that belonged to his church. I looked at the van. It was an older van with doors that opened in the back. As we were driving back to Garland, my friend Bogdan told me his church owed the bank mortgage payments and the bank had put a lock on the church doors until payment was made. He said the congregation was going to meet the next day at one of the member’s homes for Sunday worship. He asked if Vaughan and I could provide the music. So the next morning, we loaded the drums, keyboard, and speakers in the back of that church van just as the gray-haired man had said, and we led the worship for Bethel Baptist Church in Mesquite, Texas. What a beautiful day to be free! What a wonderful day to be forgiven! What a blessed day to see God move in the hearts of His people.

“And, behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And his chains fell off from his hands. And the angel said unto him, Gird thyself, and bind on thy sandals. And so he did. And he saith unto him, Cast thy garment about thee, and follow me. And he went out, and followed him; and wist not that it was true which was done by the angel; but thought he saw a vision. When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city; which opened to them of his own accord: and they went out, and ed on through one street; and forthwith the angel departed from him.” (Acts 12:7–11)

I have been on both sides of the bars.

I have also been set free, redeemed, and reconciled. Bryan Stewart and Tammy Morrow at the studio (1997).

Chapter Seven

Angels Watching Over Me

“The Lord thunders in front of His army. His army has too many to number. Those who obey His Word are powerful. The day of the Lord is very great and fills people with fear and wonder. Who can live through it?” —Joel 2:11

“And there came two angels to Sodom at even; and Lot sat in the gate of Sodom: and Lot seeing them rose up to meet them; and he bowed himself with his face toward the ground; And he said, Behold now, my lords, turn in, I pray you, into your servant’s house, and tarry all night, and wash your feet, and ye shall rise up early, and go on your ways. And they said, Nay; but we will abide in the street all night. And he pressed upon them greatly; and they turned in unto him, and entered into his house; and he made them a feast, and did bake unleavened bread, and they did eat. But before they lay down, the men of the city, even the men of Sodom, comed the house round, both old and young, all the people from every quarter: And they called unto Lot, and said unto him, Where are the men which came in to thee this night? bring them out unto us, that we may know them. And Lot went out at the door unto them, and shut the door after him, And said, I pray you, brethren, do not so wickedly. Behold now, I have two daughters which have not known man; let me, I pray you, bring them out unto you, and do ye to them as is good in your eyes: only unto these men do nothing; for therefore came they under the shadow of my roof. And they said, Stand back. And they said again, This one fellow came in to sojourn, and he will needs be a judge: now will we deal worse with thee, than with them. And they pressed sore upon the man, even Lot, and came near to break the door. But the men put forth their hand, and pulled Lot into the house to them, and shut to the door. And they smote the men that were at the door of the house with blindness, both small and great: so that they wearied themselves to find the door.” (Genesis 19:1–11)

More and more is America becoming as Sodom was, leading up to its destruction. There’s so much evil, corruption, lawlessness, and displays of defiance to God that it has become extremely alarming in the last few years. The Bible teaches that a nation divided will fall, and oh, how divided we are.

The streets have spilled over with violence, our schools have become war zones, and our churches are no longer safe places of worship. Prophecy concerning the last days are being fulfilled with every ing day. “Our adversary, the devil, walks around like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8). It was a warm summer night in Dallas, Texas. I departed the studio around 11:00 p.m. after a refreshing and rewarding session. Vaughan and I had been working on the story of the Garden of Eden from the book of Genesis. As I exited through the front door, I looked up at an ominous red sky. The weather would determine which direction I would go on foot. Not having a car was becoming a frustration! I really just wanted to walk the three miles to the apartment I was living in at the time, but there was a voice I had heard countless times in my life with instruction. It said, “Go to the Greyhound station on Griffin Street in downtown Dallas.” This was one of those times that I really did not want to listen to that voice. That’s like fifteen miles! I thought. I wasn’t wearing the proper attire for such a trek. Dressed comfortably for the relaxed day at the studio, I was clad in corduroy pants, a Beatle’s T-shirt, and of all shoes to be wearing for a hike, sandals. If only I had put on tennis shoes before heading over to work on the album. I was wearing the wrong type of feet protection that would provide comfort and ; however, my feet were shod with the preparations of the gospel of peace. And so, reluctantly, I began that long walk. For the most part, my daily walks provided daily devotion. As I would make my way to the grocery store or to visit a friend or to the studio to edit album recordings, I would choose routes that would take me along creeks or through a park. I would watch the birds bathe and the squirrels and rabbits play as the skies were ever changing paintings of grandeur and beauty, loving brush strokes by the Master’s hand. I have, as long as I can , been fascinated by nature and the exquisiteness of God’s handiwork that He created on this beautiful earth. As the seasons change with colors and contrasts, I would, in quite reverence, observe the magnificence of an Almighty God—from the yellow, crimson, orange, and red leaves of autumn to the barren trees backdropped by the spruce and pine evergreens and the drifting snows of winter. Then spring would come

forth with the newness of resurrection and welcome the brilliance of the sun of summer. As often as I could, I would plant seeds in the ground and observe them over the next few months grow into the desired fruit or vegetable—plump red tomatoes, juicy yellow corn, long green cucumbers. I would plant seeds for various beans, peppers, melons, and tasty herbs. Each seed looked different than the previous row of seeds, and what was planted looked nothing like what grew from the ground. A small wilted kernel of corn produced a tall green stalk that then brought forth cobs of corn so sweet and delicious wrapped in green sheaths to keep the sun from scorching the kernels. All these things amaze my eyes and bring wonder to my mind. This summer night the sky was red. I had been walking for several hours, making my way downtown Dallas. As I was nearing the Greyhound bus station, I came to an over. As I began walking under the bridge, I heard the glass of broken bottles crunch beneath my sandals. It was still the dark of morning, but I could make out two shadows moving around just under the bridge above me. I glanced at my watch. It was almost four in the morning. I heard the two men talking in hushed tones. I continued walking beneath the shadows. But I was not alone, and I was not afraid.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Once back under the street lights, I could see the bus station just yards away. I watched a bus pull into the station and heard the hiss of the parking brakes. Then as the door opened, engers began to disembark and gather their bags and luggage. As I stood outside the front of the building, a young man came outside with a duffel bag. He approached me and asked if I had any spare change so he could get something to drink. I took my old tattered satchel containing my notebooks of lyrics and pulled out an unopened Gatorade and handed it to him. After consuming the beverage, he thanked me and said, “Man, what a long ride from North Carolina.” We hit it off right away.

I came to find out that he was an artist, and I told him about the musical projects I was currently involved in. He didn’t have anywhere to go, so I invited him to me on the walk back to my apartment, explaining it was about a fifteen-mile walk. He had no complaints after sitting on a bus for three days, and he was happy to have a place to go other than the city streets. The sun had risen, and the sky had turned from red to orange and was now Carolina blue brushed with white cirrus clouds. I called a couple of friends from church and asked if they wanted to meet us for breakfast at Waffle House. As we sat there, having coffee and breakfast, we welcomed a new brother into our fellowship. The next day, as I opened the Dallas Morning News, right on the front page I read, “Man stabbed to death under bridge on Griffin Avenue.” The article said that shortly after 4:30 a.m. the day before, police had responded to a call after a erby had seen the man lying under the bridge. Upon arrival to the scene, they found the man deceased from multiple stab wounds. Dallas police were asking for anyone with information connected to the stabbing to them. As I sat there stunned by the news report, I thought, That could have been me. Were the two men in the shadows the ones responsible for the murder? According to the column, the atrocious act had occurred only minutes after I ed under the bridge. Why had I not been the victim of attack? Were the men with evil intentions somehow blinded or confused to ensure my safe age? Did they perhaps see the angels that accompanied me on my walk? I could only wonder on earth what would one day be made known in heaven. I believe that just as Lot escaped the doom of Sodom with the aid of angels, I was spared with the same help.

Dallas, Texas, near Griffin Avenue.

Chapter Eight

Coffee with Angels

“The Test was over. The Devil left. And in his place, angels! Angels came and took care of Jesus’ needs.” —Matthew 4:11

In 1997, I became involved with the young adult ministry of the Father’s House, a vibrant church in Garland, Texas. Many of the worshipers would gather various percussion instruments and go to Deep Ellum in Dallas on Friday nights. Ellum was a strip of bars where all the weekend partiers go. It was easy to see why the throngs of young people were attracted to this spot in downtown Dallas. There were colorful neon lights all along the strip, accompanied by the smells of burgers and all sorts of fried finger foods and the sounds of live bands playing inside bars. But our objective was not getting drunk or listening to any of the local bands playing. We were there to share the love of God to anyone willing to listen. About twelve of us from the Father’s House, each with a hand drum of some sort, jimbay’s, bongo’s, tambourines, shakers, and ocarinas, we would sing and dance and worship the Lord on the sidewalk in Party Central. Some of the people walking from bar to bar would stop and listen to our praises, others would quickly walk past us not daring to look our way, and some would laugh and mock our adoration. One Friday night, a young girl came up to me, and as I looked into her glazed over eyes, she said to me, “I want whatever drug you’re on, man.” I said, “I am under the influence of Jesus Christ.” Her head dropped toward the sidewalk. She stared at the cobblestone for a few moments, and with a sadness in her eyes and voice, she told me that was what her grandmother was always telling her. “Don’t be influenced by the world but by the Word of God.” She told me she had never read the Bible. I said that if she had a few minutes, I could share with her. She said she was going to get her nails painted, pointing to another young lady with green hair, who painted nails for two dollars. As she sat down, looking over the colors of nail polish, I sat next to her on the sidewalk. I started telling her that the joy she had been attracted to would never be found in a bottle or a pill. What she had

seen and heard flowing from my brothers and sisters was genuine love put into our hearts, and we were only expressing that love back to Him. I told her she could experience that same love right there at that moment by asking Jesus into her heart. Behind me, I could hear Phillip playing his ocarina the song “As the deer panteth for the water so my soul longeth after you” while others prayed. It felt like an invitation was being given. She told me she wasn’t ready to do that. Her hesitation made me sad. I encouraged her that she could hang out with us if she ever wanted to and invited her to visit the Father’s House and told her where we were located. That was the first and last time I ever saw her. As we did every Saturday morning, after leaving Deep Ellum, we all met up at IHOP (International House of Pancakes) for fellowship and prayer. How blessed is the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love! We laughed together over coffee and pancakes. We prayed for those we had encountered the night before, including the young girl that had made a decision to decline Jesus’s love. As everyone left the table to go about their day, I stayed behind for a while. The tables that had been pushed together to seat our group was being cleaned, so I moved to a small booth on the far side of the restaurant near the drink station. The layout of IHOP, if you were to be looking from the parking lot, would reveal those eating at booths near the windows and those across the aisle in another section of tables. A wood-ed wall topped with tempered glass divided the front dining area from the back, where I was seated, reading my Bible and sipping on coffee. There was no way anyone could see me from the parking lot and the diner’s front-facing windows. I sat there and felt burdened that I had not been able to persuade the young girl to make that life-changing decision to meet Jesus. As I sat there with a heavy heart, I looked down the aisle toward the host stand. I saw a man walk up to the hostess, and she asked, “How many will be eating today?” He said, “I just need to see him.” He pointed in my direction. He then made his way down the aisle to where I sat. He said, “My wife and I are in a fierce argument outside. Would you come and pray for us?” I stood and followed him outside to his car, where his wife sat in the enger seat, arms crossed and noticeably angry. I asked their names as he sat down in the driver’s seat. I knelt in the gravel and asked them to hold hands. The man’s

wife sighed but took his hand. I prayed, “Lord, I don’t know what issue lies between Greg and his wife, Sharon, but I ask that you break down the walls of division, disunity, and disharmony.” Immediately Sharon began weeping. I continued, “Father, you tell us if a man finds a wife, he finds a good thing. Help us to learn to show love, honor, and respect to one another. Help us to seek You and teach us to love like You. I lift up this marriage between Greg and Sharon that you would provide their needs according to Your riches in glory. Give them peace and harmony as they continue their journey together. Bless them and use them for Your purpose. In Jesus’s name. Amen.” I put my hand on Greg’s shoulder and gave him my Bible. Tears were running down both their cheeks. His voice cracked as he said, “Thank you.” I stood as Greg started his car and waved as they drove off. My heart was lifted, and my burden was gone. I lifted my eyes toward heaven and, with a crack in my own voice, said, “Thank you.” As I have stated, there was no way I could have been seen from the windows, looking in. What led Greg to enter IHOP and come directly to where I sat in need of prayer? Was he directed by someone unseen or maybe a voice guiding him? He knew his marriage needed prayer right then and there. I thanked God that I decided to stay behind that morning after everyone else had left. Not only did Greg and Sharon need someone to pray with them, but my heart also needed that brief encounter. The following morning was Sunday, and I was gathered with my friends at the Father’s House. After announcements were given, the lights dimmed, and the congregation fell silent. Pastor John Wallace, who was radical in his proclamation of the good news, entered the back of the sanctuary and blew a ram’s horn from Israel. The sound sent shivers down my spine. He blew the horn seven times from the back of the sanctuary as he walked to the front and to the podium. Some people wailed; others shouted in jubilee. We all clapped and cheered at the seventh and longest blast sounded. He welcomed everyone and asked any visiting for the first time to in refreshments and meet and greet after the service. The praise team led the assembly in several warfare songs as many of the prayer warriors gathered ed the musicians with their own tambourines, shakers, clappers, cowbells, and hand drums. Others danced, some

with flags and streamers. A couple artists painted during worship while we sang to the Lord, “We Exalt Thee, We Exalt Thee, We Exalt Thee, Oh Lord.” One painted a scene of Golgatha; the other, Jesus riding a white horse on the clouds. Pastor Wallace took the pulpit and preached the Word we all needed to hear. He shouted, “Freedom!” He sounded like William Wallace portrayed by Mel Gibson in Braveheart. After the message, as fellowshipped and guests were greeted, Phillip came up to me and nodded toward the back. There sipping a cup of coffee was the green-haired girl that painted nails in Deep Ellum.

Deep Ellum, downtown Dallas, Texas.

Party crowds gather for a night on the town.

Worshipers from the Father’s House on Friday night (1997).

Chapter Nine

Songs of Angels

“In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” —Luke 15:10

It was September of 1997 when I heard the first song. The previous two years had brought much discouragement and confusion to my life. At times, I had questioned God, lashed out at God, and to my shame, even doubted God. I had seen the inside of a jail cell and heard the barred doors slam shut behind me. I had lost my job and been evicted from my apartment. And now I was in a homeless shelter. I was at an all-time low, and I couldn’t seem to shake depression off me. I had no motivation, and all I wanted to do was sleep it all away. The shelter was called Dallas Life Foundation and was ed by First Baptist Church of Dallas. This was where I found a deeper, more intimate relationship with God. Any and all pride that I had dissolved when I checked into the facility. My family had moved from North Carolina to Dallas, Texas, in 1988 as my father furthered his education at Criswell College in Dallas. Both my parents worked at First Baptist Church while Daddy was in school. He received two master’s degrees from Criswell College and learned both Greek and Hebrew. What would my parents think if they knew I was in a homeless shelter? I wondered. The first Sunday morning I was there, I attended the chapel service. I desperately needed to hear from God. I had heard only silence for quite some time. I thought I was being punished and felt unforgiven. As I sat in the chapel with the other residents down on their luck, I thought, What’s the point? I almost stood and left. But then the chaplain, Bobby Worthington, went to the small podium. The words carved into the wooden frame grabbed my attention: “This Do In Remembrance Of Me.” After singing a few songs, including, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so,” my attitude began to soften. Pastor Worthington’s message was about God’s forgiveness. He said, “In the book of 1 John, we read, ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will

forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.’ And God’s forgiveness is far greater than our own. Micah 7:19 tells us, ‘He will turn again, He will have comion upon us; He will subdue our iniquities; and Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.’” It was exactly what I needed to hear. At the conclusion of the service, I walked up to Pastor Worthington and thanked him for the message and that it really spoke to me. He looked at me and said, “You look familiar. What is your name?” I told him, and he asked, “Is your dad Steve Stewart?” Surprised I said, “Yes.” He said, “Your dad and I are good friends. We went to Criswell together.” I left the chapel that day feeling forgiven. A few days later, Pastor Worthington was at the shelter, having lunch and ministering to people, when he spotted me. He came and sat down next to me and said he had spoken with my father on the phone and said that they wanted to have lunch with me. I said, “Okay.” He scheduled lunch for the following day. I met the pastor in the chaplain’s office the next day, and he drove to Garland, where my parents were waiting at CiCi’s Pizza. We enjoyed lunch as Daddy and Pastor Worthington caught up. It had been a few years since they had classes together at Criswell. Pastor Worthington spoke of the ministry at Dallas Life Foundation, where he and I had met. Daddy talked about what God was doing at the church he was pastoring, Lochwood Baptist Church, in Garland. Mama and I ate our salads and pizza while they conversed. When the opportunity was given, Mama asked me, “Bryan, why didn’t you call us and let us know what was going on?” I told her that I was embarrassed and didn’t want to bother them with my problems. She emphasized that they were my parents and would do anything they could to help me. I thanked her, but I felt there was a reason I was at the foundation. We finished our lunch and stood in the parking lot a while longer as

the two pastors communed. We gave one another hugs, and as Pastor Worthington and I pulled out from the parking lot, I felt a sense of peace and reconciliation.

“The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in His love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”

No longer did I feel unforgiven. There was no chastisement or onishment. I had been reconciled to my family. There was great rejoicing in my spirit. I asked permission to sit at the chapel piano, and the pastor told me I could do so anytime I wanted to play. That was the day I heard the first song. The singer, if not God Himself singing over me, was an angel with the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard. He made Elvis Presley sound like Barney Fife from Mayberry. This was what I heard him singing:

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction. My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck.

I began finding the notes on that out-of-tune chapel piano. Over the next seven days, I heard eleven more songs sung to me. I stayed in that chapel, receiving songs and finding the melodies on the piano for hours every day that week. Sometimes the songs were sung by one voice. Other songs had multiple voices, male and female. And some songs sounded like the largest mass choir ever heard.

“Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and

the living creatures and the elders.”

As I sat at the piano, I heard Luke 22:42: “Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless not my will but Thine be done.” After this age had been sung over me, I began playing it on the piano. A gray-bearded man sat on the bench next to me with tears running down his cheeks. He said with excitement, “I was in my office, and my computer had crashed three times. I was getting all worked up, so I prayed, ‘God, why does this keep happening?’ And then I heard the most beautiful sound. I thought it was coming from heaven. So I followed the sound to here.” This was the day I met my dear friend and brother Bogdan Wrzenski, a Christan Jew from Poland. We began working together on Godspeed, an interactive study Bible with Strong’s Concordance and Treasury of Scripture Knowledge.

“Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and singing, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.’”

Since that first song was given to me on that September day in 1997, the Lord has blessed me with over 120 songs and choruses of praise and worship, scripture and prayer, prophecy, and spiritual warfare.

First Baptist Church Dallas, Texas (1988).

Criswell College (1988).

Chaplain and Pastor Bobby Worthington in missions (2020).

An old out-of-tune chapel piano played the first song.

Chapter Ten

Ministering Spirits

“Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” —Hebrews 1:14

When I first entered the doors of the Dallas Life Foundation, I was a homeless prodigal. I soon experienced reconciliation with my family and began receiving songs from heaven. Shortly thereafter, I was a staff member, helping residents develop résumés and job interviews, teaching a basic computer course, helping the kitchen prepare meals. When my duties had been fulfilled, I would Bogdan in his office to further progress on Godspeed, or I would walk around and talk and pray with those residing there. I would try to offer words of encouragement and hope to the downcast and those dealing with despair. There was one staff member, however, that was rude and condescending to the residents. I could see the hurt that his words caused in their eyes. Elderly veterans of wars never mentally left. And there are women with children who are struggling to keep them fed after being abandoned by their husbands. Hurting people feeble and frail. I watched them being put down when they needed lifting up. With the tongue, we have the power to crush or comfort, hurt or heal. A week before Thanksgiving 1997, a black woman named Louise and her two young boys came to the Life Foundation. She told me they had just arrived from Charleston, South Carolina. I told her I was from SC as well and had been in Dallas nearly ten years. She told me she had left an abusive relationship and taken the boys as far away as she could to be safe. I sat with them at their first dinner. I joked with the boys as we ate, trying to make them comfortable in a new place among strangers. I noticed the bruises still healing on their mother’s face and eyes. She stayed quiet, barely eating, occasionally smiling whenever the boys would laugh at something silly I would say. I immediately took a liking to the two boys. Nathan was five, and Noah was seven. I told them they had strong names from the Bible and asked if they knew who Noah and Nathan were. They both nodded yes. Louise looked tired from the day’s journey. She hadn’t eaten much, but her cup was empty, so I refilled her apple juice. She smiled with thanks.

I looked at Nathan and Noah and said, “Your mom looks tired. Are y’all ready to go to your room?” They said, “Awww, do we have to?” I said, “A good night’s sleep will do you all some good. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can go play the piano.” “Yay!” they exclaimed. The next morning, after breakfast, Nathan asked, “Can we see the piano?” I glanced at Louise, and she said it was okay. I walked the boys to the chapel. “I like this room,” Noah said. “Do you know how to play the piano?” I sat down on the piano bench and began to play. The two boys stood next to me and started clapping and dancing. All of a sudden, the shrewd staff member came into the chapel and said, “Hey, the chapel is closed. Y’all need to get out of here!” I couldn’t believe this guy. I said, “Pastor Worthington has given me permission to play the piano anytime.” He said, “Well, he’s not here, and I have worked here longer than you, so you need to get out.” I did not want to argue any further, especially in front of Nathan and Noah. I said, “Come on, boys. Let’s go toss the football.” “Yay!” they both cheered. We went out to the gravel parking lot with the football. I gently tossed it to Nathan. He caught it, and I applauded. I said, “ it to Noah.” But he dropped it and frowned. He picked it up and tried to throw it to me, but it went about two feet and fell to the ground. He gave another frown. I asked him if he knew how to throw a spiral, and he shook his head no. I picked up the

football and showed the boys how to hold the ball using the laces to throw a spiral . They were getting excited about their new ball-throwing skills when the staff bully came again. “Y’all can’t throw the football in the parking lot. You’re gonna hit my car.” It seemed as if he was now targeting me. But then he turned to another man. “Every time I see you, you’re wearing the same clothes. Are you gonna stay here forever?” He was saying this to a retired army veteran in a wheelchair. Instead of showing honor, he was being heartless. I went to the garden to pray. I sat on the rocks atop the waterfall, listening to the sound of the water crashing on the rocks and into the pond below. I watched as the bluejays and cardinals bathed in the puddles and foraged for worms. I looked at the autumn leaves drifting to the ground. I walked to the Thanksgiving Square in the heart of the city. Looking at the light shining through the spiral of stained glass windows inside the prayer chapel, I petitioned, “Lord, I know you feel my heart, or is it that I am feeling Yours? As we do to the least of these we do unto You. I see hurting all around me and I wish to reach them all with Your love. Every time I encourage someone, this guy only discourages them. I plant a seed that he immediately chokes out. Please, Father, show me that my labor is not in vain. I only want to make a difference and bring You glory and honor. I want others to know the love, joy, mercy, grace, and forgiveness that I have come to know in You. Speak to me, Your servant, Lord, as only You can.” When I returned to the shelter, Nathan and Noah were waiting for me. “Where have you been?” they asked. “I went to a waterfall and spent some time with God,” I told them. “You know God?” Noah asked. “I sure do, and you can too,” I told him. “Let’s go practice that spiral over in the grass.” As we started tossing the ball, Nathan tugged on my shirt and said, “I know who you are.” I looked at him and asked, “Who am I?”

He motioned with his hand for me to lean down, and he whispered in my ear, “You’re an angel.” Kid, if you only knew. I am certainly no angel! I thought. I looked at him and said, “No, I’m not an angel.” He said, “Yes, you are. You are an angel!” I looked toward heaven and thanked God. No matter how hard the enemy was trying to steal those seeds, they were still falling on fertile ground. They were taking root and growing in Godspeed. The labor was not in vain. The Word was making a difference. I know I’m no angel; however, I have often wondered if Nathan and Noah were. They were there an answer to my prayer—ministering spirits. They encouraged me to continue sharing God’s love. It truly makes a difference in others’ lives. I never saw Louise, Nathan, and Noah again after that afternoon. They were just gone. But the last words from that child was both humbling and uplifting—just what I needed that day.

“In speaking of the angels he says, ‘He makes His angels spirits, and His servants flames of fire.’ But about the Son he says, ‘Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever; a scepter of justice will be the scepter of Your kingdom. You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, Your God, has set You above Your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy.’ He also says, ‘In the beginning, Lord, You laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of Your hands. They will perish, but You remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will roll them up like a robe; like a garment they will be changed. But You remain the same, and Your years will never end.’ To which of the angels did God ever say, ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet’? Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” (Hebrews 1:7–14)

Thanksgiving Square, Dallas, Texas, a place for prayer and peace.

Chapter Eleven

Angel and the horse

“Praise the Lord, you His angels, you mighty ones who do His bidding, who obey His Word.” —Psalm 103:20

The scent of honeysuckles was thick in the spring air. New life blossoming produced stunning colors and fresh aromas in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. Magnolias and rhododendrons, cedars and maple trees all added to the beauty of the surrounding mountains. In April 2011, I was working as a ranch hand and trail guide at Smoky Mountain Trail Rides and Bison Farm. The sight of the magnificent buffalo herd slowly making their way to the round bales of hay I had put out in the corral was mesmerizing. I sat in the protective cage of the Kubota, watching the young bison running behind their mothers, kicking up dust with each playful leap. They were enormous, and the ground seemed to shake beneath their hooves as they quickened their pace toward the round bales. I proceeded with caution as the last bull lazily entered the corral. I checked to make sure all ear tags were still intact and grabbed the vaccinations to ister to the calves. I knew I had to be quick once separating and running the young buffalo into the shoots and inject the medications. After a couple of hours of dodging horns as I vaccinated and dewormed the yearlings, I opened the corral gate for the herd to go back to pasture. I was happy the job was done but had to hurry to the stables and saddle the horses for the afternoon trail rides. As I pulled the Kubota into its designated spot in the tractor barn, Cody, our wrangler, was parking his Chevy pickup. I walked up to the truck as he was putting a big pinch of Coppenhagen in his lip. “Well, if it ain’t Blister gracing us with his presence,” I said jokingly. He spit in an empty water bottle. “Why you say that?” he asked. “Well, you know, a blister always shows up when the work is finished.” He said, “What? We still have an hour before the first trail ride.” I asked, “Did you forget we were supposed to vaccinate the yearlings today?”

“Shoot,” he replied. “Yeah, man, I forgot.” “It’s okay,” I told him. “I got’er done.” Our boss, Gary Kent, had left for Tennessee to a horse sale the day before, which allowed us to relax a little and not be overwhelmed by his hotheadedness. We haltered the selected horses for the scheduled trail ride, brushed and saddled them, and waited for the group to arrive. “I wonder if Gary is going to bring back any horses this time,” Cody said. “It would be nice so we could retire a couple of these old mares. A couple of them can barely make it up that mountain anymore,” I replied. The last trip Gary had made to the Tennessee sale with intentions of buying a few more horses for the trail rides did not result in a single horse. Instead he had brought back three baby pigs, twelve exotic birds, two rabbits, a goat, and a partridge in a pear tree. “I’m not cleaning up after those pigs,” I had told him. I led most rides up the mountain on my horse, and Cody rode at the rear of the procession. On our last guided trail ride, Cody had to double back and retrieve one of the horses that had turned around, heading back to the barn. The poor little girl couldn’t get the horse she was riding, Victoria, to stay with the group. Cody tossed a rope around Victoria’s saddle horn and led her up the mountain. It was a beautiful day, and the trail opened up to a fantastic view. We all stopped, dismounted, and rested our rear ends, allowing the horses to drink from the creek. After the riders were finished taking pictures on their cell phones and cameras, Cody and I helped the kids back in the saddles and started down the mountain, enjoying the thousands of different trees, bushes, shrubs, and flowers all along the trail. This area of the Smokies is, in all aspects, an aromatic and gorgeous rain forest. As we came to the bottom of the mountain, we coaxed the horses into a trot for the excitement of the vacationers. The kids squealed with delight. “Yeehaa!” “Go, horse, go!” they responded to this quickened pace.

Once back at the stalls, we gave everyone carrots and apple slices to treat their horse. After taking a few more photos, they thanked us with a tip and left. “Nice,” Cody said, “just enough for a six-pack of Bud Light.” “Or a twelve pack of Mountain Dew,” I replied. We unsaddled the horses and turned them out to pasture for the night. It had turned out to be a good day—no drama, no mechanical issues, no injuries, full cooperation from the horses. If only every day could run that smoothly. The next day, as we were putting out grain for the horses’ breakfast, Gary returned, this time with four new horses. We unloaded them from the horse trailer and took them into the barn. Mr. Kent said he was beat from the road and needed to go check in on his mother. He unhooked the trailer, hopped in his truck, and headed down the road. Cody and I watched him turn the corner out of sight and high-fived each other. We just knew he was going to be on the warpath after having been gone for three days. He hadn’t even asked if the vaccinations had been done or how the trail ride went the day before. He was always scattered, trying to do too much on the farm and take care of his mother, who had dementia. He was comfortable knowing Cody and I worked well together and got the job done every day. “Let’s go check out the new horses,” I said excitedly. I tossed some cracked corn to the pigs with my shirt pulled over my nose. Cody laughed, and we walked to the stable. After giving the four horses buckets of water and some hay, we inspected them closely. All four looked healthy and seemed docile, which is what you want for trail rides. Two red Appaloosas, a brown and white mottled paint, and a yellow and white Palo Mino. “Why don’t we take a couple for a ride?” Cody said. “I’m game,” I said, pointing to the palomino. “Cool. I’ll saddle the paint,” he said. I laid the saddle pad atop the horse. He pinned his ears back. When I lifted the

saddle, the palomino turned his rear toward me. “Hey! We’re not gonna have any of that!” I scolded the horse. Saddle on, I grabbed the bridle. When I tried to put the bit in his mouth, he started throwing his head about, giving me attitude. Cody came over with some horse treats. The horse settled down. I tried the bridle again but got the same result. We gave him more treats to calm him down. “We should call him Treat,” Cody said, and we both laughed at the horse’s stubbornness. Finally, bit in mouth, I led him out of the barn. I handed the lead to Cody, put my foot in the left stirrup, and mounted the horse. I put my right foot in its stirrup. I grabbed the reigns, and you would have thought the gate had just opened at a rodeo and I was atop a bucking bronco! He bucked and kicked, trying to throw me off, but I felt determined to ride it out. Suddenly, the right reign broke, causing his head to turn hard right, and the horse fell over. We landed abruptly, my head bouncing off the ground. My left leg was pinned under the horse, who just lay there. I pushed on the saddle with my right foot, trying to free my left leg but to no avail. I looked at the saddle horn and knew I was not in a good situation. Cody grabbed the lead and pulled forward, but the horse just lay there obstinately. If it wanted to get up, it would have to rock back and forth to get momentum to roll over and stand. And if he rocked in my direction, with the saddle horn positioned on my navel, it would cause serious injury, if not worse. I told Cody, “Don’t let him rock my direction.” I tried furiously to free my pinned leg. As I looked at the horse, I watched as it seemed to be picked up and sat on its four feet several yards away from where I lay. It hadn’t even tried to move. It was on top of me one moment to standing position in an instant. Cody witnessed it, too, and was looking at the horse, which was now calm as if nothing at all had happened. We both were awestruck for several moments. As I gathered my hat and sunglasses from the dirt, I noticed a huge boulder inches from where my head had hit the ground. I grabbed the lead rope and said, “Come on, Treats, that’s enough for today.” And I led him back into the barn.

Cody let out a nervous laugh. “Treats. That horse had a devil in it, and you rode the hell out of it.” It had to be a mighty one that could pick up a 1,200-pound horse like it was just a toy.

Buffalo at Smoky Mountain Trail Rides and Bison Farm.

Jayden, Trinity, and Bryan Stewart at Smokey Mountain Trails.

Chapter Twelve

No Brakes!

“The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.” —Psalm 34:7

A week before Christmas 2005, we were excited to be on the road from Texas to spend the holiday with my family in South Carolina. I smiled as Dallas became smaller and smaller in my rearview window until it was no longer in sight. I am a country boy and always looked forward to escaping the anxious city’s hustle and bustle, the traffic and noise. I enjoyed the drive past the countryside and the long stretches of nothingness and quite. We loaded our luggage and piled in the Pathfinder, found a radio station playing Christmas songs, and were on our way. Our youngest son, Jayden, had just turned two, and it would be the first time my grandparents would meet the little fellow. Daddy and Mama had traveled to Dallas for his birth, but they were equally excited to see him again, as well as their two other grandchildren, Gaige and Trinity. As we crossed the Mississippi River, entering Tennessee, I glanced at the kids to see if they were noticing the river below. Trin, who was five, had taken off Jayden’s sock and was tickling his feet. Gaige, nine, was preoccupied with his portable video game. I ed that when I was his age and my family would go on long road trips, if I wasn’t enjoying a MAD magazine, I was staring out the window at the ing views. I said, “Hey, y’all, look. There’s the Mississippi River.” Trin looked out the window at the majestic river and piped up, “Ewww. Mipisipi River.” Jayden looked to see what she was pointing at and stared, taking a drink from his bottle as we crossed the bridge. Gaige glanced out the opposite window briefly then went back to his game. Tammy and I sang, “Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go.”

I couldn’t wait for some sausage balls and lemon goodies that I knew Mama would have waiting for me. And oh, boy, some Cheerwine, my favorite drink from the Carolina’s. They didn’t sell this cherry soda in Texas, but every time my parents would visit, they would bring a case for my brother, Joshua, and me. I was looking forward to crossing the state line into North Carolina, and stopping at the first gas station to purchase a crisp, cold Cheerwine. I would probably have to wait a little longer to cross into South Carolina to get some boiled peanuts. It seemed we stopped at every rest area along the way so one of the kids could go to the bathroom or because Jayden had already gone and the stench was so strong in the car that we had to stop and change his diaper or just that we needed to get out and stretch a moment before continuing. We were about an hour from Knoxville, Tennessee, and it was getting dark. I was weary from driving all day. I thought it best to stop for the night and get some rest. Besides, the drive through the Great Smoky Mountains was just about to begin, and I wanted daylight to enjoy the views. The signs for the next exit showed a Best Western, and there we got some rest. After eating from the continental breakfast at the motel, we loaded up and hit the road. As we pulled out of the Best Western parking lot and merged back onto I-40 East, I told the kids, “We’ll be at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in about six hours. We are going to be driving through some beautiful mountains. Look for some black bear.” Trinity sat up and said, “Black bear?” She looked out the window. Ahead of us was the Blue Ridge mountains topped with fresh snow. From Knoxville, Tennessee, to Ashville, North Carolina, we were captivated by the immense beauty and grandeur of the landscapes. The kids enjoyed going through the tunnels carved into mountains. I ed along with other motorists, honking the horn as we traveled through the tunnels. As we were departing the Smokies, the last descent was down King’s Mountain. The flashing yellow light of caution revealed a sign stating, “Steep grade next four miles. No ing. Speed limit 30.” As we began the drive down the mountain, the Pathfinder started increasing speed. I applied the brakes, but we did not slow down. I pushed on the brake pedal again, and it went all the way to the floor. There was a second of panic, but then I felt the vehicle pull back and slow down. I kept my foot on the brake

pedal completely flush to the floorboard. I looked at the speedometer. Our speed was twenty-four, and we were a safe distance behind the eighteen-wheeler in front of us. We stayed at that speed until we were completely off the mountain and back on level road. I gave it gas, and on we went. Whenever I would brake, the pedal went to the floor. But each time, I noticed that pull from the rear that slowed the car appropriately. Something weird was going on. We were fortunate to drive through Charlotte before rush hour, and forty minutes later, we pulled up to Daddy and Mama’s house. I nearly rear-ended my mother’s car in their driveway and had to gently pull the parking brake to stop the Pathfinder. We went inside with uncontrolled grins, receiving hearty hugs and loving kisses. My grandparents were there, too, awaiting our arrival. “Give me that baby,” Grandma said. As Tammy handed Jayden to my grandma, she said, “His diaper needs to be changed.” Grandma said with a grin, “I don’t care.” And she held him for the first time. After bringing in the suitcases, I told my dad that the brakes had been acting funny, and he said, “There’s a good mechanic that goes to our church. He always services our cars. We can let him take a look at it tomorrow.” “Sounds good,” I said, walking into the kitchen, where Mama had some Cheerwine, sausage balls, and lemon goodies waiting on the table. The next day, I drove the Pathfinder to Mr. Sistare’s garage. I pulled it onto the ramps, and when I pushed on the brake pedal, it went to the floor, not slowing down. I had to pull the emergency brake to keep from hitting the garage wall. He took a look a the front two rotors and said, “You have no brakes!” He informed me that the brake pads were worn down to nothing and, by the looks of it, had been that way for some time. I thought about going down King’s Mountain and how I had felt as if the Pathfinder was being pulled back when I wasn’t slowing down. Something slowed us to the safe speed and distance from the truck in front of us all the way down the four-mile decline. My entire family

had been delivered! Could it have been the same mighty one sent to protect me time and time again?

Gaige, Jayden, and Trinity (2005).

The “Mipisipi” River Bridge.

1-40 E toward South Carolina for Christmas 2005.

We made it safely, by the grace of God, to my hometown of Lancaster, South Carolina, and celebrated Christmas with my family (2005).

Chapter Thirteen

The Tornado and the Angel

“Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience.” —Ephesians 2:2

The day after Christmas 2015 brought a fast-moving warm front into Rowlett, Texas. My family had lived in Rowlett for two years where I was working, once again, with Vaughan Garrett on the musical projects that had begun in 1994. Over the past two years living in what is known as “tornado alley,” I had watched as my youngest son, Jayden, after waking every morning, would go directly to the computer and check the weather forecast for the day. He had become obsessed and petrified over the Texas storms. If the forecast called for storms, he would become fearful, and his anxiety would only increase as the day progressed. He would not find comfort until he knew we were in the clear. The temperature the preceding days through Christmas celebration had been seasonal with the cold of winter. But now the day after the holiday feasts and exchanging of gifts, there was a certain foreboding in the air. Jayden, of course, was the first to come to his mother and me that morning with an apparent nervousness. He had, as was his morning routine, checked the day’s weather forecast to find strong storms producing tornado conditions moving across Texas and Oklahoma. He was already a wreck, biting his nails and pacing about. I told him he should occupy himself with something to take his mind off the weather and that in the event that we needed to take action, we had a plan to stay safe. He found little solace in my attempts to keep him calm. He did, however, busied himself by playing his new drum set he had found awaiting under the Christmas tree the day before.

“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”

The contrasts between Jesus and Satan can be noted throughout scripture. The prophet Isaiah gives many titles of the Messiah, including, the Prince of Peace. And the apostle Paul, in Ephesians 2, references Satan as the “prince of the powers of the air.” The disciple John quotes Jesus in his gospel: “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” So we see the difference between the abundant life Christ desires to give versus the plans of destruction the devil has. Why does God get the blame for what the adversary carries out through horrific hurricanes and terrifying tornados? It is made clear that Satan uses the powers of the air to destroy all in his path. Even the Looney Toones has a Tasmanian devil that shows up in form of a tornado. Only as we study God’s Word can we understand Who brings life and peace and who brings death and fear. As the day progressed and dusk was upon us, the skies continued to grow darker, and the wind howled outside our home. The entire Dallas metroplex was under a tornado watch. It was just before 7:00 p.m. when the tornado sirens sounded the alarm. Jayden went into a panic, and I tried calming him. Tammy, Gaige, Trinity, Jayden, our dog (Presley) and cat (Clementine) all huddled together in the closet of the master bedroom. I told everyone who was looking at me for some encouragement, “This is the safest place in the house. We will be just fine.” Moments later, the power went out. It was eerily quiet. Jayden, who was huddled in between Tammy and me, squeezed my arm. Then we heard it—a vicious growling. The house began to shake. Jayden let out a cry, and I began quoting Psalm 91:

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that

wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet. “Because he hath set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known My name. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him My salvation.”

I reiterated, “There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.” God always keeps His Word. He alone is faithful and true. His Word does not return void, but He accomplishes what He has spoken. As abruptly as the sound had begun, it came to an end. We sat there in pitchblack silence. After a couple minutes and with the realization that it was all over, I opened the closet door. We helped one another up from under the hanging clothes and exited the fortress of solitude. I could hear the sirens of emergency vehicles and trucks hurrying to help wherever needed. I walked outside to find many neighbors walking down the sidewalk. We were a bit dazed at the drama that had just unfolded and how quickly it had happened. No one could fathom the absolute destruction this tornado had caused across the town of Rowlett. It had touched down and stayed on the ground for eight miles, eating up everything in its path. Only after the sun rose the next morning would our town take in the immensity of devastation. As the images came flooding in, revealing the path of destruction, it seemed unreal. The town’s water tower had nearly fallen over. It was leaning like the Tower of Pisa. Entire neighborhoods looked as if some large broom had swept

them away. Where once stood beautiful homes were now only concrete foundations were left behind. Debris of splintered wood, clothes, and unrecognized sentimental possessions had been trashed and thrown into the neighboring yards. Christmas wrapping paper caught in tree limbs and decorations scattered everywhere you looked. Homes were demolished, families were displaced, and lives were discouraged. Amidst it all, any outsider could observe the strength, resiliency, and comion of the human spirit. Neighbors were helping one another, gathering what could be salvaged, hugging one another, offering encouragement. You could see emergency vehicles from all the cities that surrounded Rowlett there to give aid to the injured and assistance to the impaired. Church groups from all over were cutting away at fallen trees, giving assistance, ministering with meals and prayers, and helping in any other way they could. It would take months and in some cases years to rebuild and heal, but the process had begun. As we googled images of the aftermath, an article showed the path the tornado had taken from touching down to lifting away—eight miles of carnage. As me and my family looked at the path of destruction, we realized the tornado had carved a straight line toward our house. Roughly two blocks from our home, the beast veered slightly left, and then a block from our dwelling place, it had taken another detour left and churned toward downtown, where it hit the water tower and continued on several more miles before dissipating. We read in the Bible of angels and demons doing battle. As we had huddled together in that closet, that devil was headed right at us to steal, kill, and destroy. I envision that as I began speaking Psalm 91 aloud that evening, a mighty angel hit that adversary with such force that it knocked that tornado off its aimed course. And to ensure it could not double back, the angel hit the demon again, sending it safely away from where I was proclaiming the living, powerful Word of God. It may seem preposterous to some that I would think an angel knocked a tornado off course to protect me and my family or that the tornado was designed to destroy our home. Just weeks before, I had been compelled to study the schemes of the devil and pulling demons’ names from the dictionary for the purpose of calling them out. I was working on that at home and writing the story of the Garden of Eden into music at the studio. Vaughan and I had, at the last recording session, worked on sections of “the serpent” and “the fall of man.” His house and home studio were also two blocks from our house. Both our families and

homes had been spared. And this will always be a memory of my children and part of their personal testimony.

“So shall they fear the name of the Lord from the west, and His glory from the rising of the sun. When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him.” —Isaiah 59:19

Vaughan Garrett and Bryan Stewart at The Deep Seekers Studio (2016).

Jayden playing drums despite weather reports (December 26, 2015).

The tornado the day after Christmas 2015. Amazingly, only one life was lost—a person was driving over a bridge.

The path of the first and second tornado were both knocked off their course of destruction. Our homes were spared.

Chapter Fourteen

Revealing Dreams

“And he said unto me, These sayings are faithful and true: and the Lord God of the holy prophets sent His angel to shew unto His servants the things which must shortly be done.” —Revelation 22:6

It’s fascinating how dreams enter our minds as we sleep. We may face our worst fears or find our wildest fantasies in delightful detail while dreaming. Enigmatic issues can be resolved with crystal-clear clarity of these vivid visions. Direction and instruction are often given in the early hours of deep sleep. Premonitions sent with the purpose to protect us can save us from hurt and heartache if we give heed to their warning. Sometimes we are shown things before they happen preparing us in advance so we are not caught off guard. An example of this is found in the gospel of Matthew: “When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. ‘Get up,’ he said, ‘take the Child and His mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the Child to kill Him’” (Matthew 2:13). Joseph heeded the warning. “After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt” (Matthew 2:19). In April 2002, after puzzling and painful problems, I decided we needed a new start. I had become tired of struggling to survive in the city and desired to be closer to home. Our daughter, Trinity, was only six months old and it was hard to leave her and Tammy behind, but we had decided I would go ahead of them, find some stability, and then send money for them to meet me. She stayed with her family in East Texas, and my plan was to go to South Carolina and find a farm to work on, hopefully one that provided a house as part of compensation for labor. I made it as far as Nashville, Tennessee, before my car started acting up, so I pulled into the parking lot of the Days Inn International. I went inside this illustrious establishment, looking around at the chandeliers in the main foyer. I smelled the fine Indian cuisine coming from the Bombay lounge. Hints of curry and tandoori chicken were unmistakable, making my stomach growl with hunger. It had been hours since I had eaten a gas station hot dog after stopping to refuel. A door opened behind me as a group exited the bar.

This place has a lot going on, I thought as a young blonde lady hurried from the lounge to the front desk. “Checking in?” she asked, looking at me. Not knowing the extent of work needed to get my car back on the road, I replied, “I don’t have a reservation, but I was wondering if you needed any help.” She exclaimed, “Yes! We need someone up here right now. I’m the bartender, not the front desk attendant! Saturday is karaoke night in the bar, and I’m about to get slammed and still need to fill the ice stations.” She shuffled some papers on the desk and handed me an application. She said, “Fill this out, and I will call the manager down.” I grabbed a pen from the counter, sat down at one of the computers in the business center designated for guests, and began filling out the job application. I completed the personal information, education level, job history, and professional reference sections, making sure to include the previous hotel experience and knowledge of hotel operations. Then I took it to the young lady with curly blond hair and no modesty whatsoever. She looked at my experience briefly and called the manager. “There’s a guy here looking for a job. His application looks pretty good. Do you want to talk to him now?” She listened to what the manager replied and then hung up the phone. “Jodi said she is looking at a room in the extended stay section of the buildings. It’s on the other side of the outdoor pool, so she will be down in about fifteen minutes. If you want to wait in the bar, that is fine.” I walked into the sound of mellow music and the smell of cigar smoke. The colliding of billiard balls caught my attention. Looking to my left I noticed four pool tables, several dart boards, and seven arcade games. A jukebox flashed colorful lights to get attraction but was not playing any song. The music I was hearing was coming from the speakers hooked up to the karaoke laptop. I heard ice fall into a large ice bin that drew my attention to the right where stood the automatic ice machine I had just heard, three lottery machines, and two vending machines. One was stocked with a variety of chips, candy bars, cookies, candy, and crackers. The other with personal items such as aspirins and antacids, as well as laundry soaps and softeners. There was even an old-fashioned cigarette machine stocked with old and new brands of Addiction.

I grabbed the five-pound bucket used for filling the ice bins at the bar and filled it with ice. As I was pouring ice into the last ice bin Jodi Patel, the owner walked briskly to the bar. She inquired, “You are already working?” She smiled and motioned for me to follow her. She took me through a door that had a sign saying “Employees Only” into the office area. We ed several rooms that were meant for various operations directors. One door was labeled “Lounge Manager,” others with “Banquets Manager,” and “Head of Maintenance,” “Housekeeping,” “Executive Director,” and so on. I noticed that every office door was closed. No lights were on in any of the rooms. No one manned the desks working on the designated positions. Mrs. Patel said, “We are a very busy location, and we are so understaffed. Our maintenance and housekeeping managers have recently left, and my husband, Vinod, and I have been doing everything for a couple weeks. We get no sleep and really need good help.” She continued walking through the office door and into a hallway leading to the laundry room. I followed her into the room, where two ladies were folding sheets and placing them on large shelves labeled “King,” “Queen,” “Blankets,” “Towels,” “Pool Towels,” “Wash Clothes” with the appropriate items neatly stacked under the labels. She showed me a room that a housekeeper was cleaning and then to one of the large banquet rooms used to host weddings and other events. She said, “We have lots of banquets coming up. Lots to do.” After the tour and my explaining about my car dying in the parking lot, she took me to the Bombay Lounge. Again my stomach rumbled. She had me sit at one of the round dining tables and brought me a menu. She told me to order whatever I wanted while she located her husband. I made myself a salad and a Dr. Pepper from the drink station while I waited for the tandoori shrimp I had ordered. As I ate the plump and delicious shrimp, Mr. and Mrs. Patel ed me at the table. I stood and shook Vinod’s hand, and we all sat down at the table. “Please continue to eat,” Mr. Patel said. “You like?” he asked. “Yes sir! So delicious!” I replied. He smiled. “That is my favorite too.”

Mrs. Patel said, “We think it no coincidence that your car broke down here. We are a busy place and very picky about whom we hire. Your application proves your previous hotel and motel experience to be a plus, and grounds maintenance will be useful as well. Not so many people are polite like you are, and we need front desk help, housekeeping, lawn and garden maintenance, and so much more with banquets coming up and large group reservations. We need someone that will work hard to help keep up. We might need you to work in different areas as needed. We can offer you a room and salary. Is this something you would be interested in?” I was a bit shocked to be offered this opportunity so quickly without any further questions of qualifications. “Yes, ma’am!” I, without hesitation, responded. She smiled and handed me an already activated room key. “Here is the key to your room in the extended stay section on the other side of the outdoor pool. We need you to learn the night audit and security detail side of operations tonight and will have one of our proficient young ladies to train you. And in the morning, I will show you how to set up the Sunday morning buffet.” “Sounds wonderful. Thank you so much,” I told her, taking the key. “Maybe you can get a little sleep since you will work overnight. And we have cappuccino machine in the kitchen if you like,” Mr. Patel said. “That’s nice to know,” I said. “That will definitely help get through the night.” I shook Vinod and Jodi’s hands, putting into action the providential plan and purpose of God. After I unloaded the car and gone into my room, I called Tammy. She answered the phone, and when she heard my voice, she started crying. “I miss you,” she said, sobbing. “I miss you too, girl,” I assured her. She told me she hadn’t slept much at all since I had left with either worrying, stressing, or the baby crying. Depression is a demon. Postpartum is a beast. And they were both attacking her relentlessly. She cried, “I just want to hold you.”

I tried to comfort her. “Soon, baby, soon.” I told her about the job and said to let me work a couple of weeks to prove myself to the Patel’s and hopefully I could negotiate a larger room with a kitchenette into the working arrangement. She said that sounded great and was so ready to me. She broke into tears again as we said goodbye, and my heart was heavy for hers. Being a preacher’s son, I have earned, over the years, a strong faith. Tammy did not have that same fortunate upbringing. She had not been raised on such a solid foundation. The joy and peace I possess was what had first attracted her to myself the night we met. September 1997 had brought a new awakening into me life and precious times with the Lord, as well as reconciliation, new songs, soul-stirring worship, and wonderful fellowship with Christian brothers and sisters. After another Friday night experience in Deep Ellum, the group from the Father’s House was carpooling to IHOP. Phillip pulled his car into a gas station to fill up. I looked toward the Speedway window and saw her. There was a certain glow exuding from this amazingly beautiful creature. I looked for her wings, for surely this was an angel from heaven! As Phillip was about to exit the car to pay for gas, I told him, “I’ll pay.” I had to get a closer look. I must have felt like Adam the first time he saw Eve. Since it was after midnight, the convenient store doors were locked so you had to pay at the window. As I approached, I heard an already drunk man wanting to purchase more beer. The attendant, whom I couldn’t take my eyes off, was trying to explain she couldn’t leave the desk to go to the beer cooler. Only items behind the counter could be purchased at that hour. The inebriated man lashed out, cursing at her. I said, “Hey, man, cut her some slack. She has to follow the rules.” He looked at me in disgust, and I thought for a moment we might have a brawl, but he lowered his head in defeat and walked away. I approached the window and let out a timid laugh. She smiled, making me all the more shy. I pushed a twenty-dollar bill through the small opening at the window and kept my fingers pressed on it as she went to take it. I glanced down at her fingers, and there was no wedding ring on them, giving me the green light.

“Twenty on pump 4,” I said. “Hey, sorry about that last guy. I assure you all of us men aren’t like that.” She mocked, “Yeah, right.” “Might I add you have beautiful eyes?” I told her. She gently bit her lower lip, and I about lost it. Somehow I kept my composure. Glancing behind me, I saw a couple of people standing in line. I said, “I know you’re busy, but do you think I could call you sometime?” She grabbed a piece of paper and quickly wrote something and pushed it toward me through the window slot. I took the paper, not breaking the gaze into her eyes, as if hypnotized. When I returned to the car, I looked at the paper and read the name Tammy, her phone number, and the message “You have pretty eyes too” with a smiley face. Over the next few months, getting to know the love of my life, I realized God had brought us together for His purpose. I was in close communion and fellowship with Christ, following His Spirit and increasing in faith. She would face her most trying days and would need the biblical direction that I was able to provide. By the grace of God, she lived through many attempts of Satan taking her life. I was there to pray with her, and for her, at times she may have not made it otherwise. She would become my wife and help mate. As God put within me songs of truth and hope, He would inspire upon Tammy the captivating artwork to go along with the lyrics. It is her vision and diligence that beautifies the cover of this book with depth and prophecy. We have been a team for over twenty-three years now, and I love her more and more each day.

“In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon, Daniel had a dream, and visions ed through his mind as he was lying in bed. He wrote down the substance of his dream.” (Daniel 7:1)

The following Saturday night, I lay in bed, reading from the book of Daniel, in the Days Inn room in Tennessee, separated from Tammy, Gaige, and baby Trinity. I began praying for them, and I asked God to minister to Tammy, to free

her from Depression, and to bring her comfort and hope. My head buried in the pillow, I cried out for her until I fell asleep. In the dream, I saw Tammy kneeling at the altar of a church. She was groaning and crying aloud as women surrounded her, praying for her, and as the pastor lifted her up to the Lord. As the women placed their hands on Tammy as she knelt, I saw a beam of light come right down into the church, descending upon Tammy. She cried out even louder, and I heard the audible prayers of the congregation grow louder. The intercession was great in that small church. The pastor said, “Everyone, keep praying for this young lady. There is a breakthrough coming. Let’s pray all the walls to come down in her life that have kept her from experiencing God’s ultimate love, peace, and joy. Pray, believers, pray.” The sound of the prayers of the saints grew louder and stronger as more ladies went to surround Tammy at the altar. They prayed until her groans turned to laughter, and she rose to her feet with uplifted hands, praising God. She was refreshed, renewed, and revived. The alarm clock woke me, and I made my way to set up the Sunday breakfast buffet downstairs. All throughout the morning, the dream replayed in my head. I couldn’t wait until my shift was over so I could call Tammy and tell her about the vision. After the guests had eaten and ensuring everyone was satisfied, I began cleaning the buffet line and washing dishes. As I did this, I prayed for Tammy. Upon completion of the morning chores, I was given a break before beginning sweeping the parking lot and grounds maintenance. I went to the room to call Tammy, but there was no answer. I assumed she must still be asleep and hoped she was getting some well-needed rest. The afternoon was busy as I drove the shuttle bus to pick up guests with reservations from the Nashville airport. I wished Tammy, Gaige, and Trinity were on one of those flights, although she would be driving to Nashville. It would probably be only a week or two before they could me, but every day that ed seemed an eternity. When my daily tasks had been completed, I hurried to the room to call Tammy. She answered the phone and before I could say a word, she said, “You’ll never believe what happened! I went to church this morning, and when the invitation was given, I went to the altar. I was crying, and the pastor and his wife started praying for me. Other ladies held me and prayed for me. From the entire congregation, prayers were being lifted to heaven. A beam of light shone through

the colors of the stained-glass window. The scene was of Christ praying in the garden of Gethsemane while an angel ministered to Jesus before His betrayal by Judas. I cried until I laughed. It was awesome. I still feel it all over me!” I praised God with her over the phone and told her about the dream I had the night before. A week later, we were all reunited in Nashville.

Crossing the Mississippi into Tennessee (2002).

Days Inn International, Nashville, Tennessee, where my car broke down (2002).

Bryan and Tammy Stewart (1997).

Gaige and Trinity (October 2001).

Chapter Fifteen

More For Us Than Against Us

“Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” —2 Kings 6:16

Relentless seems to be the constant attacks from our adversary. Sometimes we may discern his schemes and stand against him in faith and the armor of God. But once we clear our home of one spirit of Division, the peace will last for only so long. For it is imminent that Division will return with seven demons more vile than himself.

“When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return into my house from whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation.”

So we should all the more “be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world.” How many days has Depression disrupted our lives, bringing Delay to our hopes and our dreams? When Theft has robbed our joy, we have become weak and lost our strength. Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Yet we have been stricken with Disease and Grief, and crippled by Hopelessness and Despair. Where is all this

Opposition coming from? When did this war begin, and will it ever end? Concerning the origin of the Opposition, the prophet Isaiah pens in the Old Testament:

“How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.”

How many times in our lives has Pride come before a fall? With every Trial and Tribulation, Trouble affects us all. Misery, Struggle, and Vanity bombard us all the days of our lives. Just how many spirits might we have to contend as we are now a part of this war? In the twelfth chapter of Revelation, John reveals that one-third of the angels in heaven stood with Lucifer in his Rebellion against Almighty God. The record of that Rebellion was chronicled in versus 7–9:

“And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.”

The war rages on. We, the people, as if under the sway of Trance, have been led astray by Tolerance and compromise. Commandments from God are not up for compromise! And how can they be compromised if the Ten Commandments are not taught in the schools or in the homes? As a result, Judgement looms over those that Steal, and Kill, and Destroy. A nation of Division having a spirit of Defiance to God’s commandment’s is America. Abortion and Murder announce our Shamefulness to the world. No longer are we “one nation under God,” but we are a nation with many gods.

The war rages on. We, the church, those of us who proclaim the name of Jesus, are under much scrutiny from Offense, Mockery and Scoff. Ridicule and Humiliation are always looking for an opportunity to Embarrass. Bow your head to thank God for your food in a restaurant, and you are going to get laughed at. As in the days of Noah, keep building your ark. But as in the rebuilding of the wall in Nehemiah’s day, with one hand, work with a tool of your skill and, with the other hand, hold your weapon. Always be alert and ready for attack. As Jesus told the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, “Watch and pray.” When the enemy wants to divide your home with Dispute and Argument, pray. When the target of attack is your children and they are in Bondage to Fear and Anxiety, pray. When sitting hostage in a dark room of Depression, feeling suffocated by a sinister Sorrow, pray. And after you have persistently prayed for days, weeks, months, and perhaps, even years, God’s answer will be made known to you as only He can do. “Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.” Keep trusting in Him no matter how big the battle, no matter how fierce the foe. Deliverance is on the way. We can learn by Daniel’s visions that warring angels could be the cause of the delay.

“Then he continued, ‘Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days. Then Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, because I was detained there with the king of Persia.’”

If only we had eyes like the prophet Elisha who prayed for his servant to see as he saw.

“And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host comed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do? And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them. And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the

mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.”

Amidst the relentless attacks of the enemy, God is sovereignly working on our behalf the wonderful plans that only He could know. He loves us and blesses us, revealing things only He can show. He uses His creation of heaven and earth, the universe, His holy angels, and even contrary spirits to bring about His plans. This, too, is something only He can do. There were times I wrestled with Confusion and Doubt. Countless times, Habit morphed into Addiction, opening the door to Judgement and Scorn. The Acc of the brethren has all the evidence needed to keep us under the feet of Guilt and Shame. But mercy triumphs over judgment, and grace washes away all guilt and shame. Always , “Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.” These are lyrics for a song I am working on: “Call ’em Out!”

It’s time to shine some light On all the unseen demons that we war against! And I will the fight Exposing evil, the Word is my defense. You have to know your enemy; A roaring lion seeking who he may devour. Put on the whole armor of God So that you can stand in the final hour. If we call ’em out in Jesus’s name, they will tuck their tails and flee The blood of the Lamb and our testimony is their ultimate defeat! I pray for more discernment in this day and age So we may see more easily to call them out by name

Truth is a light that helps us discern Watching and praying has helped me to learn I give to you what was given to me This simple list from A to Z Anxiety, Bewilderment, Confusion, and Depression, Embitterment, Fear, Grief, and Hate, all enter with Oppression. Insanity and Jealousy, Steal, Kill, and Destroy. Lawlessness and Mockery have more they can employ. Nervousness, Offensiveness, Pride, and Quarreling, Resentment, Superstition, Trouble, and Unbelieving. Vengeance, Worry, Xenophobia, and all Phobias, Ying yang, Zen Be on guard for all of them. They creep and crawl and scratch and claw, lurk, sneak, peek, and stalk They are sinister and evil Will put your world in upheaval If we call ’em out in Jesus’s name, they will tuck their tails and flee The blood of the Lamb and our testimony is their ultimate defeat!

When I first started the study of the names of demonic spirits, a tornado was sent to destroy the good works. “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.” To every missionary around the world, to every evangelist, to every pastor and teacher, to every musician and singer, keep the faith. Stand with your armor on,

and having done all, stand. “Looking unto Jesus the Author and Finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Pray and encourage one another “being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Yes, the war rages on, but the battle belongs to the Lord. And Jesus, from the cross, cried aloud, “It is finished.” It is over. It is done. The battle has been won. When it seems like we are facing the entire army of darkness, they are blinded by the Bright and Morning Star. If a demon of Death comes to kill with a knife, your sword is of the Spirit of the Way, the Truth, and Life. When fighting on the front line has left you weary and weak, come to the Fountain, where His joy will give you strength. We find in His Presence the refreshing of peace and the power of prayer. And we can catch glimpses of the great and mighty things that we do not know through inspired scripture, as well as personal revelations from the Ancient of Days. Only one-third of the angels were expelled from heaven on the day of the rebellion. Still two-thirds of the heavenly host remain faithfully fulfilling the plans of God and protecting His people. There are truly more for us than against us! Just how many angels are we talking about? I will let John answer that question:

“Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne and [the voice] of the living creatures and the elders; and they numbered myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands (innumerable), saying in a loud voice, ‘Worthy and deserving is the Lamb that was sacrificed to receive power and riches and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.’”

Chapter Sixteen

Great a Cloud of Witnesses

“Wherefore seeing we also are comed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” —Hebrews 12:1

I had grown numb to Impatience and found myself rushing around all the time, trying to accomplish everything in the strength of my own flesh. My reaction to every little thing were the voices of Grumble and Complaint. Once exuding the joy and peace of God, I now only lashed out at everyone in my path. I had found wit’s end and the straw that broke the camel’s back at exactly the same time. I had left myself open for attack. I had not put on the armor for way too long, leaving myself vulnerable and susceptible. My steps, although ordered by God, were blurred by Drunkenness through my own eyes. Anger and Hostility turned me from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, Bruce Banner into the Hulk. I failed to see, as I had always seen before, God’s beauty all around me. My eyes only saw the redness of Rage and the mad monster of Misery. I didn’t want to be around anybody, and nobody wanted to be around me. Exhibiting not one of the fruit of the Spirit of God and losing all self-control, I had gotten into a Brawl with a neighbor over a Lewd comment he made at Tammy. She laughed in reply to his suggestion, and I knew Temptation had tickled her ear. Jealousy jumped on me in an instant. Trinity was six months old, sleeping in her wind-up swing, when the scuffle went down. She woke up with a scream, causing the blows to cease. I picked up my crying child and pointed at the door, demanding the neighbor to leave. All the while, these things were being watched by a great cloud of witnesses. I had been working for a few months on a job where pay was based on commission. That week, I hadn’t sold enough to earn grocery money. I had to write a check with insufficient funds in the bank to buy baby formula to put in Trin’s bottle. “Why on earth am I trying to do something I have no training for, no experience of, no skill at, and no understanding whatsoever of? I have no business doing it. It is nothing more than a waste of time, energy, and effort.” I

would come home and get into arguments with Tammy as I allowed Failure, Fear, and Futility, and Anxiety, Stress, and Worry to run rampant in our home. The neighbors could hear my tantrums, which only gave invitation to unwanted Confrontation. Trinity would wake up crying. In those days, our little baby girl was the only thing that could bring peace to my mind and joy to my heart. When I held her, Frustration would always leave. I guess he just hated to be around Love. And the Hulk would revert back to Bruce Banner. All the while these things were being watched by a great cloud of witnesses. The first time I was given discernment of this deplorable demonstration of my angry attitude acting out obscenely and, obviously, objectionably, was in my senior year in high school. May 1992, Grandma and Grandpa Steele and sweet Nanny (now in heaven) had driven from South Carolina to Texas for a terrific time together in celebration of my graduation. Nanny is my mama’s grandmother. Every single time I eat a strawberry, strawberry jelly or jam, I think of her. Each spring she always had a large lush garden with a large variety of vegetables and two long rows of strawberries. As kids, my brother, Joshua, and I would partake of the perfectly red ripe fruit right from the vine. Mama told me that when I was a little boy, I attempted to push Nanny’s wheelbarrow from her garden. In my smallness, I struggled to get enough momentum for the tire to roll over the mounded dirt rows. I wrestled with the wheelbarrow until I was too weak to wrestle any more. Then the little hulk came out. Mama said I bent down and bit it! I’m not sure where on the wheelbarrow—whether the handle, body, or tire. Still I tried to take a bite out of a wheelbarrow. Perhaps someone, or everyone, noticed little Bryan had some anger issues. Sometimes, when the weather is just right and the birds are chirping in the sun, I am transported in thought right back into Nanny’s garden. We were all reliving intently and laughing as stories of past experiences were told, reflecting on the good ole days and being thankful for the day we were sharing. My grandpa was unsaved at this junction of my life. This was a heaviness in my spirit, a deep desire for his salvation. As the family was fellowshipping together, I thought of a song I wanted to share with him. I left the group and went to my bedroom and grabbed my favorite cassette tape from my all-time favorite band, Petra. The album was This Means War, and the song was “Don’t Let Your Heart Be Hardened.” The art and lyric insert was worn around the edges from the many times I had handled it, looking

at the cover art and reading the lyrics while listening to the tape. I put the tape in my stereo cassette player and pushed the fast forward button. The unthinkable happened. The tape broke! I took the tape out and looked at the two torn pieces hanging from the cassette. I had pieced together torn tapes before. It is a painstakingly, patient process. Frustration gave in to a fit of Fury. “I can’t believe this!” I shouted, and I commenced carrying on like a child, throwing a temper tantrum, putting on a pity party. Grandma and Grandpa were staying in my room while visiting, and Grandpa entered the room to retrieve something from his suitcase. He had probably heard my Grumblings while walking down the hall. As he moved the clothes around in his luggage and took out a roll of Rolaids, he said, “Now there ain’t no need for all of that. What in the world could cause such a Fuss?” I bellowed, “I broke my favorite tape!” Cool as could be, Grandpa said, “Well, we’ll just get another one. Now enough of that nonsense. You are about to graduate, actin’ like that.” Then he made a funny face and walked out the door that made me laugh out loud. Cool, kind correction put me in check and changed my character instantly. Gentle guidance does much good. All the while, these things were being watched by a great cloud of witnesses. Now I have five male heroes I look up to and ire more than any other men that have been a part of my life. First, and foremost is The Hero, The Champion, The King of kings and Lord of lords, Jesus Christ. Without Him, there would be no life at all. Second is my Daddy, Dr. Steve Walter Stewart. Not only is he my earthly father, but he has been my pastor, teacher, and intercessor, as well as the loudest voice cheering me on when I am running the good race. Whenever I stumbled and fell, he was the one to help me back to my feet, dust me off with correction, and encourage me to get back on track and keep running. My life coach is always pointing me in the right direction. Never one to post my bail, but he was there for me when I was in and when I got out of jail. “You’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it,” he had said many times, but

not until I was making my bed in a jail cell did those words mean much. Daddy, being a pastor, would remind me that he “was not raising a heathen.” I could act however I wanted to but “not in his house,” and he meant that. He laid down the law, and you better not break it, or you would really regret it. If I did or said anything inappropriate in his presence, I could feel his stare from across the room before I saw it. Imagine the look Moses gave the Israelites when he came down Mt. Sinai with the Ten Commandments and saw the golden calf. The same stern stare the stubborn, stiff-necked Hebrew children saw and felt, believe you me, the stubborn, stiff-necked Stewart children have seen and felt too! He did not allow Arrogance, calling it out with the comment “Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back.” He put Pride in proper perspective, pronouncing, “Don’t miss hearing the Great Trumpet by tooting your own horn.” “Spare the rod, spoil the child” was the first Psalm I learned, and I dared not lip off to Mama again after Daddy spared not. At any time Rebellion tried to reign, it was welcomed with a belt, and whistfully whooped out of me. If my mouth produced a profane word, it was suddenly filled with soap. Many times I deplored and despised Daddy’s discipline. Sometimes I sneered at his strict style of supervision and shunned the scriptures he shared. I spent a period of my life being a prodigal son, having allowed my heart to become cold and calloused to refuse correction. But because both Daddy and Mama took the time to train us up in the way we should go, now that I am older, I have not departed from the truth that they taught and still teach to this day. “If that don’t ring your bell, then your clapper is broke” (another word of witticism mixed with wisdom from the mouth of my Dad.) Third is my grandpa Leanord Allen Steele (my middle name, in his honor, is his middle name). Men are just not made like my Grandpa anymore. Strong as steel, reserved, and quite like aged, fine wine, he was a WWII war veteran, patient when at home, not so much anywhere else. He was always patient with me, gentle and sweet. My grandpa is the funniest man on earth. What is even more hilarious than the story he is telling is that he gets so involved in the storytelling that he gets tickled himself and struggles to finish the punch line while crying in laughter. Everyone listening and watching Grandpa’s giddiness is crying and laughing along with him. Have you ever cried from laughter? Has your side Charlie-horsed from not being able to stop? Grandpa has that affect on people. Fourth is Pastor Carl Williams. He has literally been Jesus to me and my family

more times than he even knows. I was blessed to worship, pray, and minister alongside this man of God at two churches where he pastored—Trinity Pentecostal Holiness in Lancaster, SC, and Lighthouse Holiness Church in Ft. Lawn, SC. It was at Trinity that all three of my children became ionate about Jesus because of their involvement with skits during service displaying the cross of Christ. I played drums often during worship on Sunday mornings. This was the first time Jayden ever saw me playing drums, and he would play around after service at a young age. He is a third-generation drummer and blows my mind at the many musical gifts he has. Pastor Williams was encouraging to all the kids’ gifts and involved everyone in various ways according to their talents. He invited me to him on visits to the shut-ins and widows and allowed me to pray with them in agreement with him. Everywhere we stopped to get gas or pick up items at the Food Lion, he would say “It’s a good day for Jesus, isn’t it?” to every person he ed. He is kind and gentle and joyful, and he preaches with power and persuasion. I will always the Good Friday that he, dressed in a blood-splattered robe and wearing a crown of thorns, carried a cross through downtown Lancaster. Three church and myself were dressed as Roman soldiers. With whips, we followed, screaming and whipping the pastor portraying Christ. A lot of people in Lancaster saw Jesus that day in a very real way. One Sunday morning, while getting ready to go to church, all hell broke loose in the house. It may have started with a Quarrel between the children, or an Argument of a child with a parent that eventually had Tammy and me in Division. Time was approaching the Sunday school hour and a time where the worship leaders and musicians gathered to pray for the service. I went outside away from the Fuss and called the pastor, letting him know I would not be there that day. He prayed with me over the phone as he always did—a persistent, praying pastor. “The effectual, fervent prayer of the righteous availeth much.” Twenty minutes later, with Tension and Strife still running around the house, there came a knock at the front door. To my surprise, there stood Pastor Williams. He said, “The Lord told me to come and get you. I know exactly what you are going through. Been here myself many times before, Bryan.” Pastor Williams has three daughters of his own, now grown. “I came to pray with you and see

you get to church. I need my armor-bearers.” We all gathered in the living room as Pastor Carl Williams prayed over my family a prayer that, no matter where my children go in this life, I know they are in God’s hands and under His protection. I thought, as he was concluding his prayer, that it was time for service to start at Trinity Pentecostal, and here the pastor was standing in our living room. So this is what it means that “Jesus will leave the 99 to go after the one lost sheep.” We all made it to church to be refreshed and renewed. My fifth hero is Reverend Billy Graham, America’s pastor. Born on a Charlotte, North Carolina, dairy farm, he grew to become the spiritual counselor to many presidents, from Truman to Trump. Think about that for a moment. It is mindboggling to me that one man could be the pastor to that many presidents—Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump! He offered them guidance from scripture and the Holy Spirit in times of war and times of peace, in times of distress and during deep devotion, filling stadiums with seekers of truth in troubled times. So many souls have been saved by one man’s call to the altar. Power, confidence, assurance, truth were boldly proclaimed by this preacher to mass crowds, to millions. In the sixty years of ministry, he preached in nearly 60 countries to over 85 million people. Add the satellite broadcasts, and the number jumps to 210 million people in 185 countries. All these heard the simple message of the cross through him. “That man has only one hope, and that hope is Jesus Christ. Come just as you are, and give your heart to Him today. Won’t you come?” he would invite, and the people would pour down the isles to the altar as a choir sang “Just As I Am” or “I Surrender All.” When I was in my darkest days, with nothing but time to waste in a jail cell, Billy Graham Evangelistic Ministry sent me books to read that encouraged me greatly and gave me boldness to share God’s Word with the men I shared the cell with. My family had the privilege of visiting the Billy Graham Library and tour the rooms of memory dedicated to Dr. Graham. We were also in Gastonia the day of his funeral procession. We stood with the thousands along the route to pay our respects as the long line of limousines ed by us. Many people waved and

held up Bibles, and others had American and Christian flags flying proudly. America’s pastor had heard those long-awaited words: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” God sometimes allows aggressive, aggravating, and agonizing spirits access to us to bring about His awesome and amazing purposes. He can see the outcome of these trying times, His plan coming to . We only see the struggle if walking by sight and not by faith. But if walking by faith, we are reminded “that we know all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” We read how it was God that persuaded Pharaoh with Obstinacy and Pride. God sent spirits of Torment to Trouble king Saul and King Nebuchadnezzar. And God was the One Who had not only gave Satan permission to test Job but had chosen and even suggested Job as the target for the testing. Satan unleashed his unholy soldiers. His plan was to destroy Job. He could not see God’s plan for Job. Job saw the result of Satan’s plan unfolding as Death and Destruction swept through his camp. He could not see God’s plan for him. But God knows all and sees the beginning and the end.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon Me, and ye shall go and pray unto Me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek Me, and find Me, when ye shall search for Me with all your heart.”

Tired of Struggle and Trouble and feeling homesick like never before, Tammy and I were in agreement that it was time to move back to my home in the Carolinas. Our plan was for me to find a farm to work on. It has always been easy for me to get this kind of job with the experience that I have as a hardworking ranch hand. I can 100 percent say that it has been “not by might, and not by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord” that I have made it thus far. Surely by the grace of God, go I. And everything that I have ever accomplished is only because “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” My plan was to go to South Carolina. My car made it to Nashville, Tennessee, and stalled out in the parking lot of the Days Inn International near the airport. Something, or someone, had caused me to come to a stop at this specific

location. The overwhelmed owners desperately needed someone to man the front desk and offered me a position, including living quarters. It wasn’t home, but it was an income and apartment, so Tammy, Gaige, and Trinity could me within a week or two. How quickly had this all fallen into place! And had my car not broken down there, I would not have seen the cloud. As I was crossing the Mississippi River the day before, I was tuned into an AM radio station, listening to “fake news.” When I drove under the sign that read “Welcome to Memphis, Tennessee,” the radio station became fuzzy, and then another broadcast cut through the Infiniti speakers. With a clear and bold proclamation, the unmistakable voice of the Reverend Billy Graham came forth. As I crossed the Mississippi River, I wished Tammy, Gaige, and Trinity were with me to experience the beauty and majesty of God’s creation on the drive. I listened to Dr. Graham’s message. He read Hebrews 12:1:

“Wherefore seeing we also are comed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.”

He said, “We will run out of strength and endurance if we run with weight on our feet. How do we completely rid ourselves from the weight of sin? Temptation lurks around every corner, and we fall prey to the same thing time and time again. The realization that every choice we make, every word we say, and in every way we conduct ourselves is being observed by an audience of angels. This awareness should have some effect on the decisions we make, the words we use and how we use them, and the impact our actions. But more important than angels watching over our lives, we should always be aware that God is watching us. We should, out of fear and reverence to Him, live holy and pleasing lives to bring honor and glory to Him. We are told in 1 John, ‘If we confess our sins He is just and faithful to forgive us, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ The weight of sin falls from us when we confess them to God. We can now run faster, with more endurance to the cheers of the unseen audience.” Then he gave an invitation. “Won’t you come today and lay every sin at the foot of the cross of Jesus Christ? Receive freedom to run without Hindrance to finish the race

strong.” As the choir sang “I Surrender All,” I could imagine the throngs of people making their way to the front of the coliseum. I ed watching many Billy Graham Crusades on the console TV in my parents’ home when I was a kid. It always fascinated me at how many people would respond to the call to the altar after the preacher had delivered one of his sermons. This message most likely had been heard for the first time decades before it ever reached my ears. But the Word of God is living and powerful. As the choir sang “I Surrender All,” driving through Memphis, I went to the altar, something I had not done in far too long. I asked forgiveness for the way I had lived for the past year. My attitudes and actions had been deplorable. As I began laying my sin at the cross, I felt Burden and Unworthiness lift off me. Then I began praising God as I drove down I-40, going in the direction of Nashville. All the while, these things were being watched by a great cloud of witnesses. Only now, I was more aware of them.

America’s pastor, Reverend Billy Graham. This is from Pastor Billy Graham’s home-going. My family stood on the hill in honor by the bridge as the procession ed (February 26, 2018).

Petra’s This Means War cassette tape (copyright 1988).

Graduation day 1992

Grandma and Grandpa Steele

Chapter Seventeen

The Brunette, the Blonde, and the Redhead

“Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” —James 4:7

We should always be alert after those mountaintop moments. For down in the valley below awaits a vicious battle. You will be tested and tried to see if you will remain faithful, and true to your testimony. As the immediate need for night auditor at the front desk of the Days Inn, I began my first night in training. Having worked at a Ramada and Comfort Inn I was already efficient in the Choice Privilege program used for making reservations, checking occupancy and vacancy, housekeeping details of dirty and clean rooms, and so on. I was comfortable with answering the phones and assisting reservationist check in or any other issue they may have. Hospitality is one of my fortes. When a new arrival walked up, I would break the ice with a comment about the sport’s team or musical band or individual or superhero based on their attire. This welcome would often get the response of laughter, followed by comfortable conversation. The wavy-haired brunette young lady that was there to train me on the night audit processes giggled behind me as I greeted the guests. A man walked through the sliding glass doors, pushing a luggage cart loaded down with suitcases, hanging dress shirts and slacks, and a Coleman cooler. I whispered to the young clerk sitting behind me, going over paperwork, “Looks like we need a bell hop too.” She laughed. “We do have an open position for a ‘porter’.” The man approached the front desk, where I was standing, wearing my best suit and tie. He was wearing a crimson windbreaker with a large letter A with the motto Crimson Tide embroidered on the left chest. I said “Roll, tide, roll!” enthusiastically (although I am a die-hard South Carolina Gamecocks fan). The man exclaimed boisterously, “You got that right! Spring training is around the corner, so we can check out the rookies. The draft picks were real good ones.

Think we can make it back to the big game this year?” I answered, “Alabama has as good a chance as South Carolina does,” revealing we were rivals. I smiled at his “Awww” of disapproval. He said, “Folks have high expectations for Dennis Franchione in his second year as head coach at ’Bama.” I replied, “That they are. I think Lou Holtz is really a good thing for South Carolina. The Gamecocks haven’t been known for football since the ’80s. I’d love to see the rise of the garnet and black once again.” The man scoffed, “Well, they won’t rise higher than the tide.” He was looking at his cell phone and continued, “Matter of fact, South Carolina is going to get a real good early season beat down. We play y’all fourth game of the schedule.” “Is that right?” I questioned. “Then may the best team win. Guess we’ll find out then.” The three of us laughed. I had seen his name while checking him in. “Here you are, Adam from Alabama. All checked in,” I said, handing him the room key. “I hope you enjoy your stay. The pool and fitness room are down the hall to your left. Bath robes are in your room, but we have towels in pool and fitness. Breakfast buffet begins at six in the Bombay Lounge. I see you are staying with us for three nights. I’ll be at the front desk on third shift if you wanna talk more football. Don’t hesitate to let us know if there is any way we can assist you.” I set him in the direction of his room. “Go, Gamecocks!” I said as he walked toward the elevators. He shook his head and gave a mocking thumbs up. The girl giggled again as he stepped into the elevator. “How do you do that?” she asked. “What do you mean?” I replied. “It’s like watching improv. You just talk to people like you know them and make them smile and laugh. It was so cool watching that little boy go from crying and screaming at his mother to instantly talking to you like you were Santa Claus or something.” I said, “I didn’t do anything special. He was wearing a Spiderman outfit, so I just asked, ‘What’s wrong, Spiderman?’”

She said, “I know, but it was crazy how he calmed down and started talking to you. And you have made everybody checking in tonight laugh or have an enthusiastic talk about a concert they attended or a football game or whatever. I usually only get faced with angry people grumbling and complaining about something.” In response to this, I replied, “Wasn’t that last man angry?” She looked puzzled. “He had to be.” I said, “He’s an Alabama fan.” She scoffed, “Ha ha. Ever thought about being a comedian?” she asked. “Oh, so I’m just a joke?” I laughed. “That’s not what I’m saying.” She sighed and winked at me. I cleared my throat and adjusted my tie. I could feel my face getting red. “So we were just about to print out the housekeeping room assignment sheets,” I said quickly to get out of that awkward moment. We finished printing out the paperwork for the night audit packet and set up the breakfast bar. As I sipped at a cup of steaming, freshly brewed cappuccino, I noticed the first light of dawn dominating the dark world outside. My first night’s shift was coming to an end. The brunette asked me, “Do you need a ride or anything?” I said, “No. I have a room around back. Thank you, though.” She must have seen me playing with my wedding ring. It is a habit of mine, something I do in reaction to Boredom, or Nervousness. I twirl the silver ring around my finger, making sure the cross is facing up at the completion of my fidgeting. The young lady asked, “Is your wife staying with you back there?” I could have lied, but instead I replied, “No. She is still in Texas with the kids. I hope I will make enough in the next couple weeks working here so I can send her money to me.” She said, “I can give you the money you need, and you can pay me back.”

“I really appreciate the offer, but I will wait till I get paid. I don’t like being indebted to anyone,” I replied. She grabbed her timecard and clocked out, “Okay. If you change your mind, my next shift is Monday. Call me, and I’ll stop at the bank on my way in,” she said, handing me a folded up piece of paper. “That’s my number.” I put the paper in my suit jacket pocket. She picked up her purse, waved, and exited the office and sliding glass doors. I looked outside to see the sun had chased away the dark of night, revealing a bright new day. All the while, these things were being watched by a great cloud of witnesses. Back in the room, enjoying a second cappuccino, I removed my Bible from my suitcase. I had the urge to read from the book of Daniel. When I read about Daniel, Shadrack, Meshack, and Obednigo in a foreign country, refusing to partake of the delicacies of the king, eating only fruits and vegetables, I thought of the delicious shrimp tandoori I had eaten in the Bombay Lounge the day before. As I had looked over the menu, including shrimp, chicken, and steak entrees, the owner, Jodi, told me I could eat anything from the menu free of charge on each shift. I was looking forward to a rib-eye. As I read of the commitment and the outcome of obedience of Daniel and his apprentices, I felt compelled to go on a fruit fast until my family arrived. I was glad I had made a plate from the breakfast buffet because that was the last bite of bacon I would enjoy before being reunited with Tammy, Gaige, and Trinity. I left the Bible open on the desk and took my dress clothes off. I turned the air conditioner on, trying to cover up noise of traffic coming from the nearby over outside the extended stay facility. The room had two beds, and I preferred the one closest to the AC. I turned the light off, lay down, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, started sawing logs. I slept deeply and woke up groggy. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The time was 3:33 p.m. My stomach growled. They would be setting up the salad bar for dinner at four o’clock. I pulled the covers back and sat up out of bed. The room was chilly from the air conditioner, causing me to shake from a shiver. Opening the suitcase, I grabbed a Carolina Panthers hoodie and sweatpants and got dressed. I slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my room key, and headed down the hallway. I exited the building and ed the pool, where kids were swimming and playing while their mothers watched from lounge chairs, sipping

on coladas and daiquiris. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. As I entered the Bombay Lounge, the salad bar was ready to partake off, so I grabbed a plate, listening to the Indian music coming through the overhead speakers. One of the cooks brought out some tandoori chicken. The scent from the steam as he ed was strongly tantalizing. I walked to the salad bar and selected some watermelon wedges and cantaloupe, chunks of pineapple, bright red strawberries, and white grapes. A small bowl of applesauce and a glass of orange juice, and I was set. I sat at a small table by a window facing the front parking lot and busy highway with continuous commuters. I thanked God for the fruit and as I ate each bite I took got better and better. The watermelon was so juicy. The strawberries were so sweet. The cantaloupe and grapes were so delicious. As I was appreciating some applesauce, Mrs. Patel approached me. “No shrimp today?” she asked. “I was just in the mood for fruit today,” I said. She responded, “Fruit is good.” “Indeed, it is,” I replied. She told me she had been working on a schedule for me for the next couple weeks, that it would be all over the place, two nights a week doing night audit/security, three days driving the shuttle bus to the airport to pick up guests, and a day devoted to outside grounds maintenance. My sleep schedule would not be steady, she said, but she had ensured to give me breaks in between shifts to get some rest. I finished the fruit and guzzled the juice. It was so satisfying. I put my plate and glass in the window for the dishwasher and left the dining room. I thought I might a little time shooting some pool. As I went into the bar, Adam, whom I had checked in the night before, was chatting with the blonde bartender. He saw my Panthers sweatshirt and said jokingly, “I just keep losing more and more respect for you, guy,” pointing at his hoodie that read “Atlanta Falcons.” Rivals in the NFC South division. I just laughed. “For some reason, I’m not surprised,” I said. “Care for a game of pool?” I asked. “Sure,” he said.

I racked the billiard balls, and he broke. As the colored and striped balls bounced around the table after a hard break, he let out a loud, “Huya!” I recognized the gutsy expression and asked if he had been in the army. He said, “You know it. Infantry/Air Assault!” We both let out a “Huya!” While we played three games, we talked about experiences at Ft. Benning and football. Since no one else was in the bar, the blonde young lady applauded every billiard ball either of us sunk. After the three games ended, he was leading two games to one. I told him I would be back at the front desk at ten and was going to lie down for a couple of hours before the overnight shift began. He joked that he beat me so bad I had to go to bed. We laughed, and I left the bar, drinking orange juice. After a nap, I put my suit on, grabbed my Bible, and went to the front desk. I caught the scent of pleasant perfume as I put my weapon of defense, my Bible, on the desk next to the switchboard phone. As I looked at the arrivals’ list to see how many guests were left to check in, the bubbly brunette entered the front desk from the office area. She gave a big grin and said, “I’m glad you showed up! The last person I started training only worked one shift. Jodi left a note for me to tell you after we run night audit. You can go sleep and be back down at nine in the morning. You are going to be driving the shuttle to the airport tomorrow.” “That’s cool,” I said. “I like to mix it up. Break up the monotony.” She replied, “Me too,” biting her lower lip. That is one of the little things Tammy does from time to time that gets me going. Whenever she would accompany me to the studio for a practice session, she would sit beside me as I played the drums, and she would shake the tambourine in sync, looking at me with adoration, biting her lower lip. In that moment, I compared Lust with Love. Lust is fleeting. Love lasts forever. Lust creates Animosity. Love conquers all. Lust is a demon. God is Love. I twirled my ring of vows on its finger, ensuring the cross was visible. I said, “There is only one arrival yet to check in. If you want to stay up here, I

can do a security walk. I have dress shoes. You have heels.” She sat in the office chair, spun around 360 degrees, and with a smile, said, “Perfect.” As I would be going through the kitchen on my walk of the premises, I asked if she wanted anything from there. She requested a Pepsi. After locking the side doors of all the buildings and closed the pool and fitness center, I went into the kitchen cooler and grabbed a banana and a tangerine. I poured a glass of Pepsi for the brunette and a glass of apple juice for myself. I returned to the front desk to the sound of the printer as it speedily printed copies of forms for the night audit packet and detail reports for the kitchen, bar, housekeeping, maintenance, and managers. I sat my juice and the Pepsi on the counter and pulled the banana and tangerine from my jacket pocket. I offered the fruit to my coworker, and she shook her head no as she sipped from the straw. While putting all the paperwork in its proper place, I peeled and ate the bruised banana and tangy tangerine. Finishing the apple juice completely satisfied my appetite. The brunette asked if I knew where “lost and found” items were kept. I told her no, and she said, “I’ll show you. It looks like a guest left a Bible, but no one put a note on it where it was found.” I told her, “That’s actually my Bible. I brought it down thinking I would be here all night and it gets boring around three.” She agreed that after completion of the night audit procedures, there were about three hours of mundaneness. Facebook, solitaire, or reading a good book were ways to keep awake during those slow hours, awaiting the sun to rise. “You might want to be careful with that up here. Vin and Jodi are Hindu and might not approve,” she said. “I will try to be discreet,” I replied. I had noticed the statues and posters and calendars of Brahma, Shiva, and Ganesh and smelled the incense burning at the small shrines to honor their idols in the offices, behind the front desk, by the in the Bombay Lounge, and in the bar. She asked if I knew who the Gaithers were. “Are you kidding? I grew up listening to the Gaither’s. I love them!”

She said her aunt was one of their attorneys and a banquet was coming up Saturday night and she had an extra invitation. She asked if I would like to go. I told her it would depend on how my schedule played out the rest of the week. I wanted to be careful not to give anyone any wrong ideas or reason for Rumors. “I guess I’ll do another security walk and go rest for my next shift, unless you need me to do anything before I go?” I asked. “I can think of some things we could do, but not here,” she said, batting her eyes. “Well, I’m gonna take this to my room,” I said, picking up my Bible. “Have a good day.” “You, too,” she concluded. The alarm clock went off, waking me after three hours of sleep. I read a couple more chapters of Daniel, put my suit on, and went to Bombay Lounge. I scooped some fruit cocktail into a bowl with all the cherries I could find in what was at the breakfast bar. In another bowl, I added raisins and cinnamon to some applesauce. I sat the bowls down at the small table by the window, put a couple watermelon wedges and a few strawberries on a saucer, and poured a glass of orange juice. Once again totally satisfied by the selection of fruit, I returned to the front desk to get further instructions. Vinod and Jodi were each on a computer, scrutinizing the previous day’s transactions and ing credit card authorizations from the night audit packet. “Good morning, Bryan. How are you?” asked Vinod. “Good morning, sir. I’m good. Hope you are,” I replied. “Good, good.” He went to a lock box on the wall full of keys hanging on racks and took a set out. Motioning with his hand, he said, “Follow me.” We walked out of the sliding doors, under the covered entrance, past the fountain, where we stopped briefly for him to point out some weeds in the flowerbed that he wanted me to clear later in the week along with some weedeating by the road. I said, “Sounds good. I look forward to working outside in this wonderful weather.”

The sky was a beautiful baby blue. The color of the shell of a robin’s egg, the color of Grandma Stewart’s eyes. We walked to the white van used for chauffeuring clients. The automatic sliding side doors had magnets with the logo for Days Inn International on one side and the Bombay Lounge on the other. Across the front windshield and back window, in white letters, were the words “Days Inn Shuttle.” Vin, as he preferred to be called (only Jodi called him Vinod when she was acting out in Anger and scolding him with Scorn; otherwise, it was just Vin), handed me the keys that had a gold elephant and a blue Shiva on the keychain. He pointed to the tie that I proudly wore printed with Christian fishes. “This is not a staff-approved tie. I have some in the office you can choose from,” he told me in a tone I had not heard from him. “Okay,” I said. Sitting in the driver’s seat, I saw a statue of Ganesh glued to the dashboard. “’Cause we don’t want to Offend anyone,” I added. “Right. Exactly,” he replied, not realizing he had offended me because my tie had offended him. How simple is the action of Offense! How subtle is the attack! This is why Jesus warns us in the gospel of Luke:

“Then Jesus answering said unto them, Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard; how that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is preached. And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in Me.”

And James, the brother of Jesus, instructs us in his book,

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.”

“I understand,” I said, mellowing his mood. He told me the address to the airport was already in the GPS and that it was easy to get to the arrival lane to pick up engers. That set my mind at ease and put a quick end to the pang of Anxiety. I didn’t mind driving the open road due to the scenic stretches of serenity. But dealing with crazy city drivers steals my peace and patience. Having GPS to lead the way settled Stress and put Panic away. Some people like the frantic race of the fast lane. I am not one of those people. I prefer the safer pace of the slow lane. Perusing through the radio stations, I tuned into a classical music station. Not only did I feel that this was a perfect choice of music to have playing (it was elegant, tasteful, instrumental orchestration, and no words to cause offense), but I am also a bit partial to the classical works of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Handel, and so on. When I was just a young boy (I like CCR too), my Grandpa Steele would put the Lone Ranger on their black and white TV, and I would dance around their small living room when the theme song would play. Grandma, noticing my reaction to the music, said, “You really like that song, don’t you?” She walked over to the console stereo and lifted the lid in the middle, revealing the record player. I watched as she opened one of the console doors that stored her vinyl 45s and 78s. She pulled out an album and removed the record. Placing it on the turntable, she handed me the album cover. I laughed at the cover art. It was a cartoon of a balloon-headed man with an apple on top of his curly red hair that had an arrow through it. With the click of a button, the symphony began to play Gioachino Rossini’s “William Tell Overture.” I, at four years old, was completely captivated at the sound of the strings, brass, and woodwinds, but mostly the percussion. The “William Tell Overture” features a piccolo, a flute, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four French horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, triangle, bass drum, cymbals, and strings. In the fourth part of the musical composition, to the surprise of my young ears, came a familiar melody. It was the theme music for the Lone Ranger! I danced around Grandma and Grandpa’s house to the records Grandma played. The classical influence has played a major role in the instrumentation and production of songs I have been blessed to receive and record.

It was a nice day driving to and from the airport. There were no troubling traffic issues. The riders all seemed to relax as the soothing sound of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, and Handel came through the shuttle speakers. Each trip was filled with light chit-chat and laughter of excitement from guests going to the Grand Ole Opry or the NASCAR fans flown in to attend the race in Bristol. As I pulled to the entrance of the hotel with every load of new engers, I loaded their luggage on the designated carts and escorted them to the front desk. I would tell the kids where to find the pool and vending, and the adults where the restaurant and bar were located and what hours they were open. Once they were checked in, I led the way to the elevators and their rooms. After unloading their suitcases and bags and hanging clothes, I would receive a handshake with a bill tucked inside the guest’s hand. After only four trips to the airport and back, I had been tipped over $80! I could wire Tammy some money for baby formula and a little food. I looked at the airport arrivals’ list and saw we had only one guest left to pick up that day. There would be plenty of sunlight left to prune some plants and pull up some weeds. Having nearly an hour to spare before the arrival, I went to the Bombay Lounge for a bite to eat. At this point, I was not even tempted by the smells of the steaming dishes being served. Looking over the fruit bar the array of various colors was very appetizing. I began with a scoop of bright orange cantaloupe and light green honey dew melon and mixed in some pink watermelon and yellow pineapple. To my delight, where raisins and orange wedges had been that morning was now fresh, plump black berries and fat purple blueberries. I tossed some of both in the bowl and added a few red strawberries. Now that’s a colorful plate of food, I thought, and I bet it tastes as good as it looks. After pouring a glass of ice water, I glanced around at the diners, looking for an empty table. A couple of kids that had been on a shuttle ride waved at me vigorously when I looked their way. I smiled and nodded at them. Mr. Patel was sitting at a booth near the cash and motioned for me to him. I was glad I had changed the tie after returning from the first run to the airport. Sitting across from him, I set my lunch on the table. He looked at my fabulous fruit bowl and said, “I don’t mind giving you free meals. Strawberries cost a lot less than shrimp and steak as most other employees order. Eat all the fruit you want.”

I wiped the juice of watermelon from my lower lip and, imitating the voice of Homer Simpson, said, “Ummmm, fruuiitt,” to which Vin chuckled. I told him I was about to make the last run to the airport for the day and would get out in the garden when I got back, to which he gave a thumbs up. I enjoyed every bite and was finding this fruit fast to be energizing and invigorating. As I settled back in the driver’s seat of the shuttle bus, I gave the little statue of Ganesh a thump in the gut. “What did you eat today?” I asked the mute Idol. No surprise—there was only silence from the false god. I had found a contemporary Christian radio station and had both it and the classical music station set to 1 and 2. On my way to the airport, I would listen to the Christian station and press 2 when I arrived at the airport, switching it over to classical. I pulled into the terminal and drove to the pickup location. I forgot to change the radio station. A tall, lanky, middle-aged man wearing khakis and a light-blue and white plaid shirt under a navy blue polo sweater stood near the curb. There was a suitcase and on the ground next to him, and a piano keyboard in a tote bag hung from his left shoulder. When he saw the van advertising his ride, he waved with a big grin as if he knew me. I thought, Check this guy out. The way he was waving reminded me of Forest Gump waving at Lieutenant Dan from his shrimp boat. He was really excited and energetic, it seemed. Maybe he, too, was on a fruit fast. I exited the van to load his suitcase and keyboard in the back. He stuck out his hand. “How you doin’? Clayton Gardner,” he said, introducing himself. “But everybody calls me, Clay. I’m just Clay in the Potter’s hands.” I shook his hand. “Bryan Stewart. I’m just Bryan in the Potter’s hands,” I said with a smile. I told him my great-grandparents on my dad’s side of the family were Gardners. Grandpa Gardner and my father must have had a similar connection as to the one I had with Grandma Stewart. I not long after moving to Dallas, Texas, from North Carolina in 1988 that my Daddy, waking up from sleep one night, told my Mama, “Grandpa fell!” Sure enough, 1,200 miles away in South Carolina, Grandpa Gardner had fallen and broken his hip.

As Clay boarded the van, “Awesome God” by Rich Mullins was coming through the speakers. He exclaimed, “I love this song!” “Me too. I love all his songs,” I replied. Driving back to the Days Inn International, Clay told me he was in town as a guest evangelist and would be leading a prayer meeting on Saturday night and then preaching Sunday morning at a nearby church. He invited me to attend the services, and I told him I would love to if I was not needed those two shifts. “I noticed your traveling companion has kept quiet. I bet she has a beautiful voice,” I said, shifting my eyes to Clay’s piano bag. He smiled and said, “She is a he, and his name is Roland.” I asked Clay if he was a songwriter, and he told me that he had written a few hymns but mostly used his instrument to lead worship. “I hope I get to hear and be a part of worship with you, brother,” I said, pulling up to the front of the hotel. I pushed the luggage cart with his piano bag and suitcase through the entrance as Clay followed. As the doors slid open, we were greeted by the strong smell of incense burning. The Patels were paying homage to their gods. Heading toward the front desk, where the smiling brunette was waiting, Adam from Alabama shouted, “What’s up, South Carolina?” The blonde bartender, who was sitting next to him on the couch in the large foyer, laughed, looking iringly at Adam. At first, I didn’t recognize her to be the bartender because her hair had been curled and what she was wearing was completely revealing. “About to get out of this suit and put on some gardening clothes,” I said. For some reason, that comment caused both the brunette and the blonde to look my way and laugh. Clay piped up, “That sounds fun.” The blonde bartender snickered with a Scoff. Clay took his room key from the brunette behind the counter, then grabbed his keyboard from the cart, and placed

the bag strap on his shoulder. Taking his suitcase in his left hand, he extended his right to me. As I shook his hand, he said, “Let me know if you are free to go to the prayer meeting tomorrow night. The pastor will be picking me up at five. The service doesn’t start until seven, but we are going to get started early.” I told him I would find him in the guest registry as he stepped into the elevator. No sooner had the doors closed than the brunette Scowled at me. In a tone of Scorn, she asked, “Aren’t you going out with me tomorrow night?” The blonde bartender with the cute curly cut scampered over as Adam from Alabama slowly followed while texting on his cell phone. I looked at his black sweater with the scarlet letter A on the front. Was this a sign that I was supposed to see? Was I witnessing the enemy approaching, and was I to sound the trumpet of warning? Adam stood next to me, continuing to text. The blonde, exhibiting no moral nor modesty, boasted, “Today is my birthday! I’ve already reserved the Jacuzzi suite over in your building. I’m having a party tonight and wanted to invite you and Adam. It was originally just going to be my girlfriends, but you guys are a hoot, and they would love you.” Adam elbowed me in the shoulder. The brunette furrowed her eyebrow. “You can come, too, if you want,” the blonde told the brunette, who softened her brazen stare. “I don’t know,” I said. “Right now I’m going to change and go to the garden.” Since high school, I have ired the work of the Gideons. I would see these men standing outside the school, ing out the little pocket-size Testaments to students walking by, sharing the most important thing any of us will ever learn: Jesus saves. I have made it a point to always keep multiple Bibles on hand at all times for my personal use, study Bibles with concordance and commentary and small Gideon Bibles. As I was going through my suitcase, I felt a strong compelling that I should say something to Adam. I wondered what I could possibly say that would actually change anything that he was going to do? As the questions ed through my mind, I uncovered a Bible. Here was the answer to all my questions. I hadn’t seen this specific one in years. And I didn’t

packing it in the suitcase before leaving Texas. It was my camouflage-covered Bible I had carried on me at Ft. Benning. I opened the cover and read: “17Sep92 Martin Army Hospital Chapel Ft. Benning, GA PFC Manuel Rosas and Corporal Bradley Sutterfield asked Jesus into their hearts. Praise the Lord! Ecclesiastes 3.” Before gathering the gardening tools, I went to the kitchen for some grapes and watermelon and a tall glass of orange juice. Quickly downing the deliciousness, I then went to get the keys for the shed where the landscaping equipment was stored. Mrs. Patel was looking at the computer screen, going over banquet room reservations with the brunette. I was relieved there would be no questions concerning the following evening. Jodi looked up from the computer and smiled. She began, “Hello, Bryan. Mr. Gardner stopped by on his way out and said he really enjoyed his ride from the airport. He said you were very hospitable and represented us pleasantly and professionally. We work hard to receive reviews like that.” I was encouraged with the show of appreciation. “Thank you,” I replied.” “And thank you,” she responded. “Vin said you would be coming for the keys for the storage shed.” She slid the keys in my direction and showed me which was the one for the shed door lock. “We picked up some lilies and tulips to plant around the fountain after removing the weeds. You should find everything you need in the shed. Tomorrow, we have you weedeating by the front entrance and ditch by the road. Around your building needs a lot of attention. Maybe next week, we have a big group coming in Wednesday. A lot to do between now and then. Vin said you can take Sunday off and be ready Monday to run, run, run.” “Sounds good to me! Let’s get ’er done,” I said, doing my best Larry the cable guy impression. Jodi and the brunette looked at each other and laughed, shaking their heads as I turned the corner. Opening the shed doors released the strong odors of gasoline and chlorine. Neatly stacked on the left side of the shed were pool supplies, chemicals, nets, and pH tester kits. A Toro lawnmower was parked in the middle, and all the lawn tools were on the right. Pulling out the wheelbarrow, I began selecting what I would need in the garden. Seeing a weedeater hanging from a hook, I said, “I have a date with you

tomorrow.” I placed the tulips and lilies in the wagon along with some pruning shears, a gardening spade, gloves in case their were briars to contend with, and a few trash bags. From here, the closest route to the entrance fountain was through the courtyard. I cut through the breezeway and entered the swimming pool and vending area. Two children were splashing each other in the pool while their mother relaxed in a lounge chair, reading a magazine. I heard one of the kids inquire, “Hey, isn’t that the man that drove us here when we got off the plane?” “No, he was wearing a suit,” answered the brother. I understood the puzzled look coming my direction from the two. Twice they had seen me in a suit and tie. Now I was dressed in khaki cargo shorts, Carolina Panthers T-shirt and cap, sunglasses, and sandals, pushing a cart full of colorful flowers. For me, it was a much more comfortable contrast. As if on cue, a puffy white cloud that had been concealing the sun moved aside, allowing rays of light to brighten the entire courtyard. Both boys shielded their eyes with their hands. I announced (imitating my favorite comedian from childhood, Jim Varney, as Ernest P. Warell) “’Tis I, the chauffeur, the doorkeeper, and now, the gardener. Unless I may assist you in any way, my services are needed at the fountain to plant these pretty flowers.” Then I followed it up with Ernest’s famous laugh. That brought laughter from the boys and their mother, as well as Adam and the bartender, who were sitting several chairs down from them. “What’s up, Gamecock?” asked Adam, holding up a bottle of beer. “About to add some splashes of color out front to make it more pleasant to the eyes,” I said. Then deepened my voice to imitate Rocky Balboa. “Yo, Staff Sergeant. You think you can give me a hand moving one of the marble seats back on top of the leg columns? Whenever you have time, ya know.” I hoped addressing him by his rank in the Marines would put him in a military mind. Then again, aren’t all active-duty soldiers, as well as any veteran of war, always in a military mind? The war wages on. The sun was warm on my back as I knelt in the garden, pulling up weeds, pruning dead branches from the vine of blue and yellow morning glories, and putting the discard in the wheelbarrow. As I was on my knees planting the perennials, I prayed for the words to present to Adam. After giving thanks for all

the good things He was doing, I placed my petition at the feet of God’s grace. I picked up the spade and started digging a hole to plant the first flower in front of the fountain. After packing dirt around the plant, I stood and looked at the beautiful purple bulb already in blossom. I selected an orange flower and another that was yellow and set each one three feet apart on either side of the purple plant I had just put in the ground. Five more tulips of extravagant color were earthed when Adam ed me in the garden. He looked over the transformation that had taken place in the past two hours. The dead brown weeds were in the wheelbarrow replaced with living, vibrantly colorful, and eye-catching corollas. “Glad you could us, Sergeant,” I said, smelling the next selected perennial cluster to go in the ground. “Dang, Rocky, you don’t waste any time, do ya?” Adam acknowledged. “That’s how I roll, man. You didn’t know?” I said rhetorically with a smile. Adam’s cell phone chimed with a new notification. I noticed the slender white strip of skin where a ring was normally worn on his left index finger. He rolled his eyes and typed his response. I asked, “Wife worries?” He gave a puzzled look and asked, “How did you know?” I told him I didn’t know anything. “Just a hunch.” He scoffed, “A hunch? Well, if you must know, Perry Mason, yeah, it’s my wife. And, yes, she worries the whole time I am ever not with her.” Not trying to offend, I asked, “Is her worrying warranted?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at the ground, so I quickly pointed at the marble seat lying next to the leg stands. “That’s what I need help lifting, so I don’t get a hernia.” He laughed. I didn’t ask why his wife was not with him, or why he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. The two of us, with ease, put the seat in place and sat on its now-sturdy . I said, “Listen, Sergeant, I don’t mean to pry, and if we were both back at Benning, I would probably be doing pushups.” He laughed and loosened up a little. I continued, “Man, I’ve only been working here for five

days, and I feel like Daniel in the lion’s den.” His perplexed look let me know he had no idea what I was referring to. I gave a brief breakdown of the scripture I had referenced. Adam asked, “Do you really believe those lions didn’t rip that Daniel fellow to shreds?” I answered, “Well, since it is in the Bible, yes, I believe 100 percent that it is all true.” “Hmm,” Adam pondered as I took the camo-covered Bible out of my pocket. “I wanted to show you this,” I said, opening the cover. I pointed to the two soldiers’ names that were written on the page. I told him about that Sunday morning in the chapel at Martin Army Hospital, where the two had knelt and asked Jesus into their hearts. A folded bulletin was still in place from that morning five years earlier, reserving the age of Ecclesiastes 3. I handed Adam the Bible that had meant so much to me. I said, “I know I joke a lot, but when I call you sergeant, it is out of respect and honor. It is with the same respect I must offer a word of warning. Just as in time of war, fighting an enemy, a soldier should stay watchful and alert at all times. We as men must be on the lookout for an adversary that wishes to Annihilate our ambitions, make a Mockery of our marriage, wreck Havoc on our homes, and create Chaos in our children.” Adam listened, still looking at the open Bible, without Objection or Interference. Angelic warriors must have been holding them at bay. I said, “Brother, tonight is going to be a tough test. I’m not here to tell you what to do, just hoping to give you the ammunition to achieve an awesome victory. Ask yourself, is one wild night worth carrying around the weight of Shame and Guilt for the next weeks, months, maybe years? And what if your worrying wife were to somehow, in her suspicions, uncover one shred of evidence as careful as you may try to cover up a wrong choice? How forgiving would she be?” Adam continued looking at the living and powerful words lying open in front of him. “That’s some heavy stuff, South Carolina,” he said, closing the Bible. He handed it my direction, but I told him I wanted him to have it. “But this has special memories, man, I couldn’t,” he resisted. I responded, “My hope is that you will, in your own time, read it, even with your wife in Alabama, and make your own special memories. Maybe more names can

be written underneath the two soldiers named on the front page.” He put the Bible in his pants pocket. “Well, thank you. I appreciate directness, and I am intrigued by this Daniel fellow.” I told him where to find the book of Daniel in the Old Testament and told him that the most interesting person he could read about began in the first book of the New Testament. He asked, “Jesus?” I replied with a question of my own, “Would it hurt to read of someone that has helped so many, including myself?” Adam answered, “I don’t see any harm in reading, and I appreciate your determination. That, I must say, makes it all the more intriguing.” His response gave me hope. We stood and shook hands. “Hey, thanks for your help, Adam,” I said. “No problem,” he replied, walking toward the hotel entrance. As I watched him go through the sliding doors, I lifted a prayer. “Lord, let the seeds fall on fertile soil. Don’t allow the enemy to steal it away, but let it take root. It is up to you to water what has been planted. And I thank you for giving me the opportunity to share Your wonderful Words.” I finished placing the flowers around the fountain, keeping the two largest plants for the pots in front of the entrance. The blue bonnets stood out beautifully against the mustard-colored building—a perfect pair of petals, I thought, iring the overall appearance from the front entrance. I gathered the gardening tools in the wheelbarrow and returned them to the tool shed. As I was approaching my room, I saw Adam and the blonde bartender enter the suite two doors down. In the hours that followed, I could hear the laughter as the young ladies ran down the hallway. I called to check in on Tammy and the children. She cried that we were apart and wanted to me where I was. I wished she was there too. The party continued down the hall as I went to bed. As I was almost asleep, I heard an angry female say “Forget this!” and a door slam. I put on some instrumental worship to tune out the noise, prayed for Tammy and the kids, and fell asleep.

The sun rose the following Saturday morning, expelling the darkness and announcing a new day. What a perfect wake-up call! I thought, hearing the sound of a heavenly choir singing over me. “This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” The words penned by the chief musician three thousand years earlier now resounded in my soul. My desire to attend the prayer service with Clay that evening was the determination to get going. After grabbing the weedeater, line, and mixed fuel, I stopped in the Bombay Lounge for breakfast. A big bowl of sliced peaches and pears, cantaloupe, and cherries seemed perfect for the challenge ahead. The weedeating was going to be arduous on the steep hill by the road, but the fruit I had consumed was the fuel to combat and conquer. Maybe it was the message by Billy Graham or the four-day fruit fast or the conversation with Clay, but I hit that hill fast and furious, punishing everything in my path. I ran that weedeater until it ran out of gas, refilled it, and then repeated it without stopping. Four hours later, I felt the need for more fruit. I must have looked like the jolly green giant making my way across the parking lot. What impeccable timing to take a break. Before I made it to the entrance, out walked Adam with his luggage. He saw me and laughed. “Looks like you lost a fight with a salad.” “Oh, but I won, Sergeant,” I said, and we both laughed boisterously. Adam leaned against the shuttle van, waiting for Mr. Patel to take him to the airport. “Man, you might have saved my marriage,” he said. He reported that as he was partying with the pretty girls (placing emphasis on the word pretty) and having a good buzz from the Budweiser, the “darndest thing had occurred.” He said three of the girls had wrestled him to the ground playfully. As they laughed and rolled around on the floor, the camouflagecovered Bible fell out of his pocket, causing the ruckus to cease. The laughter of merriment turned into laughter of Mockery from all of the girls. “You brought a Bible with your beer?” scoffed the birthday girl. He said it had embarrassed him so bad he got up and exited the room. As he was walking away, the door opened behind him and one of the girls threw the Bible at him, “Don’t forget this!” she yelled. He said to me, “Had you not given me that Bible, who knows how the night

would have played out? I am actually relieved it ended the way it did. Thank you, Bryan.” His tone was respectful as he called me by name for the first time. We shook hands as Vin walked up to the van. “Hope you have a safe flight back home, Adam,” I said as he sat in the back seat. “Oh yeah, go, Gamecocks!” I said with a sly grin. “Roll tide!” he replied, smiling back. We waved goodbye as the shuttle drove away. An apple, an orange, and some watermelon were what I needed to get back on the weedeating. I filled a jug with ice water since it was much warmer than when I had began. I had made my way around the huge horseshoe shape of the nowmanicured lawn and was working around the extended stay section of the establishment. The fruit had kicked in, and I was flying through the thick foliage. I was focused on finishing so I could freshen up before the prayer meeting. The first thing I noticed were sandaled feet exposing burgundy-painted toenails. My eyes followed upward to view toned tan legs. Further up were skintight and way-too-short shorts. Even Daisy Duke didn’t dare wear something so skimpy. Above the shorts came into view a tight tanned tummy and a pink shirt that had the word “Sexy,” cut off just barely under the bosom. The curly redhead looked at my sweat and grass-covered T-shirt. I took my finger off the throttle, and the weedeater wound down and sputtered to a stop. Placing it on the ground, I took the jug of water and gulped what was left down. The redhead smiled and pointed at my soaked shirt. “I think you need more water than that. Dude, your face is so red you should take a break,” she said, looking at the path I had paved with the weedeater. “Wanna come sit by the AC and cool off? I have cold water in the ice cooler and other drinks in my room.” “I think that should hold me till I’m done. I’m actually closed to finishing for the day. Thank you, though,” I replied. She insisted, “You look like you’re about to out. You should really come in from the sun for a few minutes. You sure you don’t need a drink?” I actually was still thirsty, and the AC sounded awesome about now. No sooner had the thought entered my mind than I cast it down. I also had water and an airconditioning unit in my room if I so desired.

“Uhh, really, I’m fine. Thanks,” I reiterated. “Well, how about a reward for your hard work?” the redhead asked, putting a finger in her mouth provocatively. “My work, once done, will be rewarded with a paycheck,” I said, looking toward the few feet of grass still needing a graze. I stooped to pick up the weedeater, but she lifted my face with her warm leg. Her smooth skin felt nice on my cheek, and I caught the smell of coconut. “You wanna have sex?” she blurted out boldly. I was shocked at how suddenly she was willing to seduce a stranger. Never before had I seen someone be so calm with no apparent conviction, much less morals. As appealing as she was physically, red hair blowing in the slight breeze like a Victoria’s Secret model in a commercial, I quickly lifted my left hand, showing my wedding ring. “I’m married,” I said, looking her in the eyes. She moved in closer, leaned into my chest, and whispered in my ear, “Well, that has never stopped a man from having fun with me before. I will let you do things your wife would never let you do.” I took a step back and saw her shirt now covered in grass and my sweat. “Oh, look,” she pouted, “I’m all a mess.” She pulled the sweat-covered shirt over her head to show a tiny bright red and revealing bikini top. She took the clip that was holding her hair out and threw her head forward then back, showing the fullness of her wavy red hair. Maybe she was a Victoria’s Secret model after all. She closed her eyes, arched her back with allure, and stretched her arms above her head. She held the pose, opened her eyes, and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come in with me?” I said, “Positive. I need to finish up here. I have a prayer meeting to attend.” The redhead looked toward the sky and sighed. “Well, when you change your mind, I am in room 212.” I thought she should be in room 666. My mind was made and could not be changed. I ed my father returning from an evangelism trip to South Korea in 1986. He had been propositioned by Unfaithfulness and ed the test, remaining faithful to my mother. As he gave testimony of the temptation, he said, “The only way you can stand

strong in the face of such Seduction is to already have a made up mind. Before Temptation becomes a factor, you must have already committed to always be faithful no matter what circumstance may arise.” I had made up my mind that very day that I would be like my Daddy and never break my vow. The redhead walked toward the side door of the extended-stay section. She turned her head and winked at me as she entered the building. I shook my head in a bit of shock, pulled the cord bringing the engine back to life, and completed my chore. Hanging the weedeater on its designated hook, I glanced at my watch. It was 3:33 p.m. I had just enough time to shower and meet Clay in the lobby before the pastor picked us up at five. Study Bible in hand, I walked into the lobby, where Clay was sitting on the couch, reading his King James Version. I looked to see who was working the front desk. I was happy to see Mrs. Patel looking our direction instead of the brunette. I sat next to the evangelist, and he beamed. “Hey, Bryan, glad you are able to go. I saw you weedeating today and almost walked over to talk to you. But I knew you were busy with your task and didn’t want to disrupt your pace. The flowers planted yesterday and the lawn work today has made the grounds look really great.” Jodi, hearing his uplifting words, added encouragement, “Yes, Bryan, it looks absolutely wonderful outside. Thank you for doing such a detailed job.” Impersonating Elvis Presley, I said, “Thank ya. Thank ya very much.” They both laughed at my shenanigans. Moments later, the white-haired preacher walked through the sliding doors. Clay and I stood, and we all shook hands. As the pastor and I met, he introduced himself, “William Hill, but the congregation calls me God’s Will.” I loved it. “A pleasure to meet you, pastor.” Looking at Clay, he said, “Let’s get this party started.” I turned to Jodi and said, “We are going to the church for a prayer meeting. Anything we can pray for you?”

She looked at the three Bible-bearing believers standing in front of her and smiled. “You can pray that we pull this week off with our skeleton staff.” I smiled back and said, “You got it, boss. See ya later, alligator.” I stopped myself from saying, “See ya in a bit, elephint.” What with the statue of an elephant sitting next to the bell on the counter, I did not want to offend. We left in the pastor’s plum-colored Plymouth as he chauffeured us to the little white church on top of a hill in downtown Nashville. As we got out of his old car, the pastor said, looking at the city lights below, “This is where the Lord has placed me to pray over this city. Every day for seven years, I have prayed many times and shed many tears for all the people below. Every time I stand here and pray, I think of our loving Savior as He looked down upon Jerusalem and cried for them” (Luke 13:34). A pastor’s heart beats with the heart of Christ. We followed him into the fellowship hall where two ladies were preparing refreshments. “This is my wife, Ruth, and her sister, Sarah. Could you guess their father was a pastor too?” said Pastor Will. We all chuckled. “Before we begin, we have a tradition here.” He walked to a juicer on the table with a bag of large carrots. “We like to make fresh carrot juice. I watched as he began putting carrots into the juicer until the pitcher was full. He poured three cups and handed Clay and me a cup apiece as Ruth fed more carrots into the machine. I watched as the pitcher refilled. “Cheers,” said the preacher, and we clinked our cups together and drank. Man, that was good stuff! I downed the juice and Ruth offered me another. “Yes, please,” I said, and she filled my cup again. It was really good. “Thank you,” I told her. “I have never had fresh carrot juice before. I like it!” Sarah responded from the kitchen, “We started doing this about three years ago. You wouldn’t believe the difference it has made physically for us old people.” I said, “Oh, I believe it. I can feel it after two glasses.” As we continued to commune, of the congregation began to arrive, and

within thirty minutes, the fellowship hall was crowded with coffee and carrot juice sippers. We made our way to the sanctuary. Clay and I sat on the front pew far right isle. I looked at the red carpeted steps leading up to the pulpit, which was sitting behind the communion table set with silver plates. To the left was a beautiful white grand piano and two guitars on stands and the accompanying amplifiers. Directly in front of me was a pipe organ, an electric keyboard, and an attractive pearl-colored drum set. It had all the toms and cymbals, bells, and tambourines, congos and bongos—a drummers dream. There was a seven-tier choir loft, and I looked forward to hearing the worship that would come from that direction the following morning. Behind the upper row of choir chairs was, to the far left, the American flag and, on the far right, the Christian flag. Blue banners made of silk with bright golden trumpets embroidered on them hung from the A-framed rafters above the choir loft. The baptistry was backed with a beautiful painting of Christ being baptized by John in the Jordan river. A ray of light shining from the clouds above, and the Holy Spirit descending in the form of a dove. The overhead lights were lowered to a soft, peaceful glow, as the soothing sound of piano and flute played low. It was quiet as the pews filled with people who had the heart to pray. Pastor Hill walked up the carpeted steps and stood behind the silver glass-topped stand. Since the second we had shaken hands only two hours before, I had seen and heard a kind, gentle, and comionate heart from this shepherd. He looked over the flock that the Great Shepherd had entrusted and equipped him to feed. Before his lips let out a word, he lowered his head and began to weep. Over the next several minutes, God’s Will poured out his heavy heart, which was wearied by the weight of the war while he fought the good fight. He asked God for a fresh anointing for himself and for those gathered in the sanctuary. The atmosphere changed, and the fire of God began to fall even before he concluded his prayer. “In the Mighty, Holy, Precious, Wonderful, Beautiful, Glorious, Powerful name above all names, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, Good Shepherd, Ruler, and Risen Lord, Jesus Christ, we magnify and lift You up in this place. We honor You and worship You, Lord.” The sounds of praying saints and shouts of “Hallelujah,” “Amen,” and “Glory” were being lifted by the gathering of generations. The elders, leading by example, went down on bended knee. Parents praying and crying with their children and young people and youth holding hands stood strong.

After a brief introduction, the pastor stated, “We will learn a lot more tomorrow about our very special guest as he will be leading the service. Let’s give a big welcome to Clayton Gardner as we seek the Lord’s face together in a ‘time such as this.’ Holy Spirit, have Your Way in this place tonight. Let us hear a Word from You.” Pastor Hill looked at Clay and extended his hand, motioning for him to take his place at the podium as the congregation stood and clapped and cheered. “Thank you, but let’s give all that to the only One Who deserves it, the King of Glory!” Clay shouted, bringing more fire to the building. “Who is this King of Glory? The Lord, Strong and Mighty! Open your gates for the King to come in. Who is this King of Glory? The Lord, Mighty in battle! Open your doors for the Lord of hosts to come in! Thank you, Pastor, for the warm welcome and for getting this prayer meeting started in proper adoration to the One in which we seek. Let’s not stray from that mode of adoration and thanks. The Bible tells us in Psalms that we ‘enter His gates with thanksgiving in our hearts, we enter His courts with praise,’ so let’s lift our voices all over this place giving thanks for all the wonderful things that God has done for us, starting with His Son, Jesus.” As the prayers of thanks began to be heard, Clay went to the keyboard and played, “Give Thanks.” After a moment of thanksgiving, the prayers turned into praise, and praise into worship, as everyone ed their voices with Clays. “Give thanks with a grateful heart. Give thanks to the Holy One. Give thanks for all the Lord has done for us. Give thanks. And now let the weak say, ‘I am strong.’ Let the poor say, ‘I am rich because of what the Lord has done for us.’ Give thanks.” Then it was time of thanksgiving to God for His goodness and grace, giving Him glory, honor, and praise, prepared our hearts to repentance and to receive forgiveness. Aware of the need for the healing of hearts, the evangelist read from God’s Holy Word:

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” The missionary said, “I need not add a thing. If you are here tonight in need of healing in your body, mind, or spirit, it begins on bended knee. This altar is open for any and all to bow before

the King of glory in humility and hunger for Him. Come, let us seek forgiveness, and a fresh filling of His Spirit.” Every person in the place knelt at the altar seeking God’s face. Voices cried out to the Holy One for forgiveness, for their families, and for renewed faith. There was an evident hunger for holiness. “Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.”

Pastor Will dropped Clay and me off at the hotel after the prayer service ended, and everyone had left the church with renewed hearts. Shortly after 11:00 p.m., there came a knock at the door. I stood from the desk where I was reading from the book of Daniel. I hoped it was Clay and didn’t even check the peephole. I opened the door and was shocked to see the brunette standing there in what looked like lingerie. She wore no bra beneath the navy-blue silk and fell forward into my arms and started crying. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “What’s up?” She said, “I waited and waited for you to call, and you never did. Why?” I could smell the booze on her breath as her mascara was smeared down her face from tears. “I am a happily married man who vowed faithfulness to my beautiful wife. I’m not about to cheat on her,” I said. “But she will never know. Please, be with me tonight,” she begged. “Not only did I make that vow to my wife, but to God also. Not only would He know, but I would, too. And I just will not be unfaithful to my wife.”

“Blessed [happy, spiritually prosperous, favored by God] is the man who is steadfast under trial and perseveres when tempted; for when he has ed the test and been approved, he will receive the [victor’s] crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him. Let no one say when he is tempted, ‘I am being tempted by God’ [for temptation does not originate from God, but from our own flaws]; for God cannot be tempted by [what is] evil, and He Himself tempts no one. But each one is tempted when he is dragged away, enticed and baited [to commit sin] by his own [worldly] desire (lust, ion).” (James

1:12–14)

Resisting his attempts with Temptation, Seduction, and Allure had caused the devil to flee and rethink his strategy.

the faith along. Shine the light of Jesus, our only hope.

My time in the US Army was very short before being injured in jump training. I hope and pray I will always be a good soldier in the Army of the Lord. As I stand watch over my family, friends, loved ones, church, community, and nation, let us watch and pray together, “Send Your rain, Lord, to Your people.”

Chapter Eighteen

The Armor of God

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.” —Ephesians 6:10–11

After finishing chapter 6 of Daniel, where God sent an angel to “shut the mouth of the lions,” I left the Bible open on the little round table and kept the light on. I looked at the brunette sleeping on the bed. I went to the other bed and lay down. I prayed that she would depart discreetly so no one would see her leave my room, so that no Rumor or Lie would be spread by any scheming snake. I fell asleep as soon as I said, “Amen.” What a day it had been! I was woken to the sound of the door closing shut. I looked with blurry eyes at the bed the brunette had been. The bed was empty. She had left. I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers glowed 3:33 a.m. I got goose bumps. I had been seeing this time and number sequence a lot, nearly every day at that precise moment or waking early morning to see the same exact hour and minute. I find that time in the morning, during the still and quite while others are sleeping hours, to be a time of intercessory prayer, intimate praise inspiring prophecy. In His Presence is His Power. These are also the hours that the songs of angels are heard more clearly as their voices have less hustle and bustle and nonstop noise to compete with. I got out of bed and went to the door and locked it. I was wide awake, so I went back to the table, where my Bible was. I took my pocket photo album out and looked through the pictures of my lovely Tammy and Gaige, now five, and precious little Trinity, only a few months old. I was eager for the reunion. As we waited in the foyer for Pastor Will, I looked at an empty space that seemed perfect for a piano. I thought, again, it would be nice to have a piano to play during the slow hours of the night shift. Clay studied his notes for the message he was going to bring to the congregation. We were both wearing our Sunday best suits. I had my Christian fish tie proudly hanging from my neck. I noticed Vin looking at it when he walked by with a cup of coffee. Then he

looked at Clay’s open Bible on his lap and then at my Bible, which I was thumbing through. He stopped and asked, “What’s going on here?” I answered, “Just waiting on the pastor to pick us up. Headed to church.” Mr. Patel looked a little puzzled. “You found a church already? In only one week in Nashville while you were working?” he asked. “Actually, I didn’t have to look at all. This church came to me right here.” I told him that when I picked Clay up from the airport, I found out he was leading services and that he had invited me. So here we were waiting to go. He produced a sly smile and asked if the brunette was going with us. He may have seen her leave on the camera in the hallway, I wondered. Jodi was watching and listening from the front desk. I was embarrassed that he asked that in front of Clay and made sure to clear it all up when we were in the pastor’s car in commute to church. I would talk with Vin and Jodi, in privacy, to make sure there was no misunderstanding later. A cup of coffee followed by a cup of carrot juice, and it was time for Sunday school. Clay and I were led to the young adults’ class in an upper room. The first thing that caught my eye when entering the room were the two pianos sitting side by side. It seemed everyone wanted to shake hands with Clay when he walked in, so I started making my way toward the pianos. I was greeted by several smiling faces. They shook my hand and patted me on the shoulder enthusiastically. What is so wonderful about the body of Christ? Love for one another. The first I piano I ired was a beautiful black Steinway grand piano. It was polished, and the major keys were pearly white. It was accompanied by a comfortable cushioned bench. It looked brand new. I glanced around the room and realized it was not only a Sunday school classroom, but the choir rehearsal room as well. I could tell by the way the chairs were set up. Three sets of rows divided by two isles. The chairs in the left and right sections curved toward the front of the room, to form a half circle. The same configuration as the choir loft in the sanctuary. Only in the auditorium, each row of chairs was elevated. There was a digital drum kit hooked up to a monitor, and several stands ing sheet

music on the opposite side of the room where I stood. I walked over to the other piano. It was a mahogany Baldwin, traditional school style upright, with round legs and brass casters making it easier to move. The keys had lost their luster over many years touched by many fingers. It was solid and had obviously been used by a lot of pianist. As I looked at the instruments of praise, a bell rang signaling time for class to begin. Everyone started to take their seats. I sat next to Clay as a young black man, maybe thirty, toned and muscular, picked up a portable podium and placed it in the center of the room. His white polo shirt had the logo of East Nashville Magnet, a local high school, embroidered in red across the left chest. The War Eagles. Underneath the logo, in black, was stitched “Coach.” His shirt was tucked into khaki slacks, and his tennis shoes were the same red as the team logo and bearing the white Nike check. He opened his Bible and put it on the stand. He started in prayer and then welcomed Clay and me and other visitors that were present. The vibrant teacher explained that the class had been studying the book of Ephesians for the past several weeks. He asked his wife to out lesson guides to those that did not have one and asked that we open them to the current lesson. Turning to the page, I saw that the heading read: “The Armor of God.” When the shuffling pages silenced, he began reading:

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying

for all the Lord’s people. Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.”

He referred to the lesson guide as it discussed the points of protection each piece of the armor provided: The belt of Truth. “And you will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free.” The breastplate of Righteousness. “, this is God’s armor; we put on His Righteousness, for we are not righteous in any way, shape, or form without Him.” Shoes on our feet of the gospel of peace.” He pointed at his bright red shoes. “The gospel of peace is only brought about by the blood of Christ.” He pointed at the white Nike check. “Though my sins are scarlet, He makes me white as snow. Check!” he said. We all laughed at his demonstration, but he got the point across. Clay gave the coach a thumbs up. “The shield of faith. Faith is the victory that overcomes the world. Every fiery dart the devil throws your way can be blocked by faith in Jesus name. The helmet of salvation. It protects our minds from Deceit and Lies. We’re saved by grace the helmet reminds. And the sword of the Spirit.” He held up his Bible. “The Word of God. Jesus overcame Satan’s Temptations by stating, ‘As it is written, and so can we.’” The coach, whose name I would later learn was also Brian, looked around the room, saying, “And we gotta pray people. Pray, pray, pray, pray, pray. Pray for our family, our children, our pastor, our leaders, one another. I’ll pray for you. Please pray for me. As most of you know, I am a coach at Magnet. Recent events have shaken our school’s students and families, our community, even our church —two suicides and two overdoses. Our children and youth are under severe attack, and the only thing that is going to protect them is our prayers, a covering of grace, a banner of blood. ‘A standard raised against him, when the enemy comes in like a flood.’ During football season, we train hard every day, so we are prepared to face our opponent on Friday. We encourage the young men to dig deep, to struggle strong, to give their best, knowing their teammate beside them is giving theirs—to fight the fight to the end, to catch that second wind, to rise above ability mentally and play from another place of ion and heart. We

struggle in the mud. We wrestle in the heat. We fight through the pain. We can’t be beaten. They are a fine group of brothers I have the privilege to lead onto the football field. But in this text, we learn that the real fight is not against flesh-andblood people. This battle field does not require wrestling and struggling, or fussing and fighting, yelling and screaming, or scratching or biting. We should never Argue with an Angry child. Loud lashing turns into a shouting match. We cannot overcome Anger by reacting in Anger. We need to put God’s armor on, stay prayed up, keep our eyes open to see our true enemies that affect our children and homes. Depression, Anger, Fear, Addiction, Lust—some of these principalities are easily seen on the students and even some teachers that I by in the hallways. I pray for them silently there and at home with Rebekah. We need more discernment. We need more prayer. I thank you, brother Gardner, for leading us and teaching us many things about powerful prayer penetrating into the presence of God yesterday evening, and we look forward to the Word you have for us today. I hope we continue prayer like that and see revival here in Nashville and beyond. We got a good taste of what we could partake of daily. I know Rebekah and I were given new vision and understanding of His purpose for us here.” The Sunday school bell buzzed, and Brian asked Clay if he would close the class in prayer. He prayed for the group of forty believers in the room, the church family, the pastor and his wife, the community, and the schools and students in Nashville, the state, and the country. The bell rang, the second signal that service would start soon. “In Jesus’s name, we pray. Amen,” he ended with everyone agreeing “Amen.” Choir went to cabinets, retrieving their choir robes as others filed out of the room in excited conversations with one another. Their love for one another was ever so evident. We all journeyed to the sanctuary and the Presence of the Lord was already thick as if entering the Holy of holies. The atmosphere caused quiteness as Christians sat, each one inside their inner room, listening to the Lord. The only sound was that of the keyboard as the church’s pianist beautifully played “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus.” Not a word had been spoken, yet tears were flowing all about the room. I sat next to Clay on the front pew. After a short time had ed, the choir entered the loft through two doors—one on the left loft, the other on the right. The thirty singers were wearing purple robes trimmed in gold that matched the

banners with trumpets hanging above them. Two guitarists, a bassist, and the drummer took their places on the stage. They all, one at a time, ed in with the piano. The worship leader, Wade, took the mic and led the congregation as we sang, “What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Oh, precious is the flow that makes me white as snow. No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.” After a few repetitions of the chorus, Wade prayed for the Holy Spirit to have complete control over the proceedings of the service. He then gave the announcements of events. The seniors were going to have lunch at the Wagon Wheel and then go to the arboretum to view the blossoming spring flowers. The youth group had an “On Fire” rally. Several shouts and claps of excitement came from the young people when this announcement was given. The food pantry needed certain items restocked, and clothes donations were always accepted to bless the community. A baby dedication ceremony was going to be observed the following Sunday. Wade then said, “This is the third and last Sunday we are going to make this announcement. The choir room had a new piano donated two months ago. A grand piano! We need to get the old upright out for space for an organ. If anyone wants it, let me know after service. After today, if no one wants it, we will donate it to Goodwill.” Wade then handed the microphone to Pastor Will, who started with a hearty proclamation, “Amen! Amen! Amen! Praise the Lord!” The white-haired preacher was excited as he introduced evangelist Clay Gardner, who had been a missionary in Kenya. The church helped several missionaries financially with special offerings and had included Clay and his family on the missions board two years earlier. “Let’s welcome Clay as he has, I know, a message for us today from God. Most of you were here last night for the powerful prayer time we experienced. Come on up here, Clay.” The congregation clapped as Clay took the mic from the pastor. He said, “Pastor, before you take your seat, if you would stand here a moment, I want to call two men. I have only briefly come to know them, but in the short time I have spent

with them, I feel they are the two men I wish to appoint to hold up this man of God you are so fortunate to have as your pastor.” He then called for the worship leader, Wade, and the Sunday school teacher, coach, Brian. Some of the youths said, “Coooaaaach!” Their respect for him was noticeable. Clay asked the men to stand one on each side of the pastor. Clay then asked Pastor Hill to raise both arms and began to read from Exodus:

“The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. Moses said to Joshua, ‘Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.’ So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.”

The evangelist stood next to Brian and said, “Aaron was from the tribe of Levi, which came all the priests. Brian, you have the heart of intercession, which is a ministry of a priest. Also, this position requires discernment and putting on and using the armor of God.” He then took both of Brian’s hands and placed them on the pastor’s right wrist. Brian stood holding the pastor’s right arm up. Clay went to Wade and said, “Hur was from the tribe of Judah, where came the worshipers. He, too, discerned what was going on in the battle below. You are the worship leader of this body of believers.” He took Wade’s two hands and placed them on the pastor’s left wrist. While the two men held up their leader’s arms, Clay commissioned them to lift up their pastor daily in prayer and to be his system. He prayed for the three as Brian and Wade continued to hold up the pastors arms. The missionary turned to the congregation and said, “And you all are the soldiers fighting below. As the strong coach reminded us in the young adult class how

important it is that we apply the armor of God. For those of you that weren’t in that class, let’s get you armored.” Having everyone stand, he quickly covered the armor and each piece’s significance to what it protects. Everyone mimicked, putting on each part of the armor. “Now you’re ready for battle.” He turned and looked at Brian and Wade, still holding the pastor’s arms up. He shouted, “Victory!” The congregation clapped and cheered. He encouraged the people to start practicing putting on the armor every morning in prayer before walking out their homes. He said, “If you walk out your front door wearing God’s armor, the devil don’t see you, he sees God! Walk in His protection, and it will block the incessant attacks of the enemy.” He thanked the three men, and they went to their seats. Clay went to his keyboard and gave the cue to dim the lights. A slideshow started projecting on large screen images of a Kenyan village. As we watched the images of impoverished children bathing in a muddy river, receiving rice, blowing bubbles, and smiling in a small school, Clay played and sang, “Thank you for giving to the Lord for I am a life that was changed. Thank you for giving to the Lord. I am so glad you gave.” The slideshow ended, and the lights came back to brilliance. Clay thanked the church for its and said because of the generous giving, all the children that were pictured in the schoolhouse had been given immunizations and new clothes and shoes, fed daily, and each given their own Bible. This brought applause of celebration. Clay looked around at the choir behind him and the musicians who nodded that they were ready. “Let’s praise the Lord in this place today. Staying on the theme of warfare, , it was the praises of the Israelites and the playing of the instruments, trumpets on this particular occasion, that the walls of Jericho crumbled to the ground!” He began playing “Joshua fit the battle of Jericho” with an African flare. Then the musicians ed him as he sang the verse, and the choir ed in on the chorus. Ever so smoothly he transitioned into “Greater is He that is in you, Greater is He that is in you, Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.” After the chorus repeated several times, the final song begun. “Shout to the Lord!” The singers were swaying and clapping, and the sound of

their praise was amazing in the auditorium. It sounded so much more than a mere thirty voices. More like a multitude of singers had ed them from somewhere else in the sanctuary. A sound I had heard countless times throughout my life, the sound of angels singing. I still to this day believe everyone in attendance that day heard angels singing adoration in that service. I saw many , children and adults alike, looking around in wonder and awe at what we all were witnessing. The musicians were playing their instruments in one accord, taking the audience to a higher level of adoration to our Awesome God, and the praise turned into worship. As worship prepared hearts to receive the Word, the evangelist prayed for the Holy Spirit to speak through him. “If everyone would remain standing for a moment,” he instructed. “As we have studied the steps we must take to enter the Presence of the Most High God, let’s go through His gates with an offering of thanksgiving.” The congregation lifted up thanks to Jesus for His unending and unconditional love. “Now let’s enter His courts with shouts of praise.” There was an eruption of praises as the people began clapping, cheering, and jumping in the pews and isles. When the shouts subsided Clay asked, “Is that all we have for the King of kings and Lord of lords, the Lamb of God slain from the foundation of the world, the only One who forgives, cleanses, and gives us power of our enemies? Coach, how do we react when our team scores a touchdown?” With that question, Brian let out a powerful shout from the depths of his heart and took off running around the sanctuary. Several youths, some Magnet football teammates wearing war eagles letter jackets, followed his lead, running behind him with voices magnified in majesty to the Mighty God. “Psalms 150 says, ‘Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!” Clay shouted and ran down the steps of the pulpit and ran a lap around the auditorium with the other runners. God’s glory grew greater and greater as the praises were lifted to the Lord. After circling the sanctuary in surrender to the Spirit, Clay went back to the podium. “Now that we have entered through His gates and into His courts, we shall approach the Throne of Grace, where we receive all of the goodness of God in greater measure than imaginable. What is it that we need from Him today? It’s time for Grief to go, Death to die, Sorrow to silence. Send Anger away, Depression down the road, Division down the river. Put Jealousy in jail, and Darkness in a dungeon, and ban Burden off Your people. Pour out peace, Lord. Rain down revival, and let Your fire fall! Mend minds, heal hearts, save souls. And we give You all the glory, Jesus. Amen.”

Everyone said, “Amen!” “So here we stand before the throne with God’s armor on. In the power of the name of Jesus and by His precious blood, we have come in agreement of His Holy Word, sending demon’s running, shaking, and trembling, and loosing love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and selfcontrol, filling us with visions and dreams and gifts of His Spirit. Now let us hear from the Word of God.” He asked everyone to raise their Bibles and repeat after him. “This is the sword of the Spirit! This is the Word of God! If you would turn to the book of Matthew, chapter 12. We will read three verses to take into heart so that we will be prepared and alert in the days ahead. Verses 43 to 45.” He paused as the sound of many Bible pages turning sounded like angels’ wings in flight. The scripture appeared on the screen with a graphic of seven silhouetted figures in fog following the fiend in front of them with red eyes. When the last page flipped, finding the age, he read:

“When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.”

Clay expounded on the verses and expressed the relevance of expecting the enemies’ imminent return while prospering in peace and power, protected by the Providence of His Preeminence. He then had the congregation turn to Ezekiel 33:3. The scripture projected onto the screen with the picture of a man blowing a ram’s horn. He read, “When the watchman sees enemy soldiers coming, he blows the trumpet and warns the people.” He looked around the auditorium. “Pastor, if you will me. Musicians, also.” As Pastor Will stood next to Clay in prayer, the musicians began playing softly, “There’s room at the cross for you.” The evangelist asked all the husbands and fathers to stand. “Who among you is willing to be a watchman for your wife and children? To

stand guard, watching and praying, alert and vigilant? If you are ready to take your post, please, raise your hand.” The hands of men went up all over the sanctuary—men taking their stand as head of the household under Christ and taking the oath to be wise watchmen and seekers of the Truth. They were ready to fight the good fight and run the race set before them, to love their wives as Christ loves the church and train their children in the way they should live in light of the Word of God. As the invitation was given, the altar was flooded with men, women, youth, and children answering the call, committing and recommitting their lives to the Lord. People prayed, cried, and rejoiced while being refreshed. Fathers and mothers embraced their children in a time of reconciliation and renewal. When the last person in prayer rose from their knees at the altar, Pastor Will invited everyone to the fellowship hall for the pot luck lunch that had been prepared by many of the congregation. He blessed the food and the fellowship that would follow, and asked that everyone allow the senior adults to go first. He announced that Communion would be observed at the evening service and hoped all would attend. In the fellowship hall was a bountiful feast of fried chicken, barbeque, casseroles, and desserts. The smell of all the dishes that had been brought was delicious. At first, I was inclined to partake but then thought about what awaited me back at the hotel. I walked over to the dessert tables and selected from the trays an array of ripe, juicy fruit. After finishing the flavorful selection from God’s garden, I told Clay I would be in the choir room, where I wished to play the piano. He nodded with a mouthful of meatloaf. As I sat playing through songs the Lord had blessed me with, Wade walked in. He said, “Sounds heavenly, brother. You need a piano?” I was stunned. I said, “If no one else wants it, I sure won’t turn it down.” Wade replied, “We have made the announcement three Sundays straight, and nobody has shown interest. If that continues to be the case after today, it is yours.” Having had a very vivid and divine dream the night before that I wanted to share with Tammy, I called her phone but only got her recorded answer. I assumed she was asleep. Speaking with her last evening, she had a headache and a heavy

heart. I had prayed with her over the phone before we ended the conversation. The evening service was, as expected, beautiful as we partook of the bread and the juice, ing our Savior’s beaten and bruised body and His atoning blood shed for all. After Communion, the lights were dimmed as Clay and the musicians sang, “Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe. Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.” As they sang, Pastor Will, who had been standing with a lone candle burning, lit the candle Wade was holding, who then lit Coach Brian’s candle. Everyone in the room was holding a candle, and the flame that had started with the pastor soon was being ed to everyone in the room. Flames of faith were flickering everywhere. As this was transpiring, the worship team was singing, “It only takes a spark to get a fire going. And soon all those around can warm up in it’s glowing. That’s how it is with God’s love once you’ve experienced it. You share His love to everyone. You want to it on.” Revival had started in this assembly, and I was thankful to have been part of the past two days. What a phenomenal blessing to be a part of the body of Christ! Back in the room, I called Tammy and told her of the services. She excitedly told me about her worship experience that morning at a church back in Texas. As she was relaying her morning meeting with God, it was exactly as I had dreamed the night before. The Lord was definitely delivering to us both precisely what we each needed to face the days apart from each other, giving us peace knowing we would soon be together again. Monday was, as predicted by Mr. Patel, off to a running start. Since the grounds were looking crisp, the focus was on getting all the banquet room set up according to the needs of a large group set to arrive on Wednesday. Jodi said they were fortunate to get this large reservation. It was “out of the blue.” She said, “Maybe you bring us good business!” “I don’t know about that,” I said, “but for sure, funny business.” “No funny business!” she said sternly and then laughed. This group had obviously rented the whole place out (except the extended-stay section). All rooms were reserved under the group name Equinox, and all the rooms were charged to the master suite, which was getting a lot of attention and

had strange decorations that had come in by way of FedEx along with detailed instructions of their expectations. Their own decorators had already arrived and were at work, doing the devil’s deeds. It doesn’t take discernment to see the obvious—the pentagrams hanging around their necks, the way they sneered in dissatisfaction for having to settle for “this place.” Several trucks had arrived with wines and spirits and various cheeses and meats uncommon to the Bombay Lounge and all sorts of sweets and delectable desserts. The entire place was being transformed into a palace as silk curtains and gold-framed art covered the suddenly aged wallpaper. Pottery and urns were put about with ostrich feathers and fabrics with exotic animal prints, zebra, leopard, giraffe, rhinoceros, and elephant tusks. I noticed two men unloading a large aquarium heading for the master suite. What on earth kind of gathering was this going to be? The three banquet halls were set with the round tables and long rectangle tables and chairs all according to the printed out plans we had been given. I was asked to assist with some of the displays. Each table was decked with an ornate tablecloth of a dark color. Out of storage crates came crystals, amethyst, and geodes of beautiful colors. I have always loved collecting rocks. I received a rock tumbler for Christmas when I was ten. It was fascinating how a rough, dull rock can be polished into a precious stone. I had quite a collection when I was in middle school. I had taken for show and tell in science class a few selected jewels and a vial of volcanic ash from Mt. Saint Helen’s 1988 cough into the air. The vial contained ash collected off a car eight miles away from the volcano. As my classmates ed around the smooth stones and minerals, my teacher asked if I had more rocks at home. I exclaimed, “A bunch!” Somehow that led to my rock collection being on display in the Monroe Public Library. Even an article was printed in the city newspaper, including a photo of the rocks in the glass display case. I felt like a rock star! As I sat each huge geode on a table with its description label, I was more and more intrigued and loosened up with the ladies who laughed at my reactions to the rocks. Then another crate was opened; it contained Native American artifacts. I have always been proud of my Cherokee ancestry on Mama’s side of the family. That bloodline has influenced the way I play the drums with the tribal tones on the toms, and I am drawn to the soothing sound of an ocarina. If you

listen to their songs, they sing to Yahweh. So do I. There were dream catchers of all colors, an array of arrowheads chiseled out of stone and bone and volcanic glass, a few spears, a hatchet, and to the wonder of my eyes, a brilliantly colorful feathered headdress of a chief, a more humble headdress of a medicine man, and a three-feathered headband of a warrior. Their robes and garments were knit with beads and decorated with feathers and set out on mannequin stands. There were also peace pipes, Indian flutes, pottery cups and bowls, bows and arrows, buffalo skins. I said, “Man, you gotta be kiddin’!” Carved into wood images of Indians were the different tribes Apache, Cherokee, Sioux, Navaho. Some were riding horses with spears and rifles, hunting buffalo. There were lots of carved bison, wolves, and eagles. Two magnificent displays so far. “What next?” I wondered. The stretch of tables in the following section was filled with Egyptian artifacts. There were golden scepters and rings and necklaces full of gems and jewels, ornate dresses and elaborate etchings on papyrus paper, books on pharaohs and Egyptian gods, fools gold-plated statues of the sphinx and pyramids, and other Egyptian symbols. From here was the middle banquet room, and it was lit with black lights and moving lasers, accompanied by techno music. It was an alien room. Everything had to do with UFOs, alien abductions, unexplained encounters, unsolved mysteries, Bigfoot, yeti, the Abominable Snowman, the Loch Ness monster, Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy, Wolfman, pharaohs, even the devil. They were all in this room in one form or another. There were also stuffed animal aliens, posters, books, tin signs, masks, T-shirts, UFO toys with sound effects—all forms you can imagine of money-making merchandise. Were there going to be kids here? Seriously? There was even Count Chocula and Frankenberry Cereal. I let my guard down a little more. There was a stretch of tables with every type of candies and chocolates for the taking. Milk chocolate-covered cherries and strawberries dipped in white and dark chocolates caught my eye. “Help yourself,” said one of the party planners, who reminded me of Marilyn Manson.

It was tempting, and my stomach growled. I was going to be stationed at the front desk during the third shift and needed to get a nap in. I looked at my watch. It was 3:33 p.m. I said, “Thank you for offering. I’m actually going to rest for tonight’s shift.” “Okay. Thank you so much for your help,” said Marilyn. “We’ll see you around. Pick out an arrowhead. Any one. Whatever jumps out at you, it is yours.” Without thinking, I took one made from volcanic glass. It was gray in color and still sharp on each edge, symmetrically perfect. Special time and attention had been focused on this spearhead. The price sticker on it was stamped $6.66. I put it in my pocket. I should have placed it back on the table. “Good choice,” chided the woman. “Thank you,” I said. “See you later.” I felt a fleeting Fear, a tinge of Terror, a pinch of Panic, but the shield of faith quenched the sudden fiery darts. The helmet of salvation gave my mind peace and wisdom. How subtle, slick, sly is Satan and his schemes. He is, after all, the father of lies. Hiding under a guise of innocence, Over-Endulgance, and flamboyance are easy to see through, and False humility and Arrogance can make a man as Fake as can be. I was glad to get out of there. Once outside, I breathed in fresh air. I went to the room and read Daniel chapter 7. The imagery in verses 6 and 7 brought awesome visions.

“As I looked, thrones were put in their places, and God, the Eternal One, the Ancient of Days sat on His throne. His clothes were white like snow, and the hair on His head was white like wool. His throne was made from fire, and the wheels of His throne were blazing with fire. A river of fire was flowing from in front of Him. Many thousands of angels were serving Him, and millions [ten thousand times ten thousand angels stood before Him. Court was ready to begin [sat in judgment], and the books were opened.”

If that doesn’t ring your bell, your clapper’s broke! What a privilege to have a picture of heaven and a portrait of Him Who sits on the throne. I finished the chapter and lay in bed with visions of the verses still in my mind as I drifted off to sleep. A few hours later, I woke with a song being sung over my head. I wrote the words I was hearing and wished I had a piano to play and record the beautiful melody. As soon as the thought ed through my mind, the phone on the nightstand rang. I answered to Mrs. Patel from the front desk. She said someone was there to speak to me. I walked through the courtyard and waved at the children playing in the pool. Grabbing a glass of apple juice as I cut through the kitchen, I entered the foyer. Standing near the front desk was Clay and Pastor Will, both grinning from ear to ear. After shaking hands, the pastor said, “We have something for you outside.” I followed through the sliding doors and saw the upright piano on a truck pulled trailer. My eyes blurred from blessed tears. Coach Brian and another man wearing a shirt with the Magnet Eagles logo on it were taking the straps off the piano. I told them before we unloaded it that I needed to make sure it was okay with Mrs. Patel. When I told her about the piano, she looked amazed. I pointed to the space on the wall that I had thought it would fit perfectly. She said, “How did you get a piano? You have only been in town for a week. Maybe you are good luck after all. Yes, a piano would be a wonderful addition to that room. Bring it in.” Once the piano and bench was in place, I went with the men outside and thanked them for bringing it. Clay extended his hand and said, “It’s been a pleasure. Pastor is taking me to the airport, but before we leave, let’s pray.” The five of us held hands in a circle as Clay led us in prayer. We all shook hands, and the pastor handed me a bulletin that had the church number on the front. He said, “If you need a ride to church or anything else, don’t hesitate to give us a call.” I said, “I may be in need of some carrot juice.”

We laughed in one accord in Christian brotherhood, knowing some standing there may not see the others again until in heaven. I waved as Brian pulled off in the truck, and the pastor and Clay drove off. When I went back inside, both Vin and Jodi were looking at the piano in disbelief. Jodi asked, “Do you know how to play?” I sat down and performed “Trinity’s Prayer” (a song I was blessed with when we were expecting our daughter). The Patels seemed taken aback by the beautiful sound of the playing piano. After a few more songs flowed from my heart to my fingertips, I excused myself to the room for a contented deep sleep. As I stood behind the front desk, looking at the piano across the room. I smiled as my mind ed the room from which it came. I thought of brother Brian’s lesson on the armor and prayed it on. I thought of the transformations in the services of so many lives and on so many levels—Burden broken, demons defeated, strongholds shattered; relationships reconciled, restored, renewed, and revived; fire fallen from heaven had healed and filled hearts with hope. I looked around the foyer at its transformation into a totally different kind and from a totally different place. Everything was lavish like a movie set. I wondered what kind of energy Equinox was going to bring. Either way, excellent time for getting armored up. Even earlier that day, I had tripped a little at Flattery’s seemingly innocent subtlety. I checked the expected arrivals for the night. Twelve guests of the Equinox group were scheduled to check in. All twelve of these reservations were in rooms on the first floor nearest to the Bombay Lounge. Six male and six female names were on the registration cards. The first three guests to check in arrived at the same time, just after eleven. As I pulled the two ladies registration, I noticed they were both from Atlanta, Georgia. I asked if they needed assistance with any luggage. One of them said, “No, thank you. Shorty is getting our things together. He will be checking in also, Shorty Jones.” I pulled his registration card. Georgia also. They obviously had traveled together the 215 miles from Atlanta to Nashville. Shorty entered through the sliding doors, pushing a luggage cart loaded with suitcases and clear suit bags containing some white and some black chef’s coats with a red dragon stitched on the chest.

So the twelve disciples of a dragon that are arriving this evening, I thought, are his food and feast preparers. As I had fixed a bowl of fruit and filled a glass of juice on the way to start my shift, I couldn’t help but notice the many wrapped cheese wheels and all sorts of other cheeses waiting to be opened and placed on silver serving trays in the cooler next to the fruits and vegetables on the shelf. I gave the three there room keys and pointed toward the hallway located by the Bombay Lounge. They walked away laughing while looking around at all the dragon’s decorations. In the following hours, nine more chefs of this hell’s kitchen checked in. Three travelers showed up solo and three groups of two. They were butchers and bakers and big meal makers. Two had traveled from Texas, two came from California, and two made it from Maine. One was from Las Vegas. I later learned he was the head chef of a large five-star restaurant. Every plate that would be ordered by Equinox over the next few days would not go out on the floor without ing his absolute approval. On occasion, you could here him scolding and shouting any minute mistake or imperfect plate. Another individual arrived around 1:00 a.m. I noticed he was from New York City. His apparel was neat and nice, but his attitude was nasty, and his countenance cold as ice. Not even ten minutes went by before the New Yorker was standing before me at the front desk with a string of complaints. I explained I had no other rooms available to move him to. The Equinox group, whom he was here to serve, had reserved all other rooms. As I was explaining this, the final of the feast preparers sauntered through the sliding doors. She was from Florida and was wearing form-fitting attire that attracted the attention of the man from New York, silencing his argument. After checking the woman in, the two walked together toward the room. At 2:00 a.m. I ran the night audit report and sat at the piano to find some peace. Tuesday’s pace was hectic and hurried as the decorators applied finishing details as requested in individual reservations. I assisted in the delivery of wine and champagne bottles, vases of flowers, and different decorations in several suites. When called to the master suite, I was shocked walking in the room. It looked like something Stephen King would write about. Black satin sheets covered all the walls and windows. Even the patio doors were covered, concealing the view of the courtyard below. There were six candles on stands on the right side of the room, six candles on the left side of the suite, and six in the middle a few steps

away from the big bed. Directly in front of the bed was the large aquarium. I shuddered when I saw the three snakes slowly moving around inside the aquarium instead of anticipated fish swimming around. There were pentagrams and printed patterns of satanic symbols throughout the place. It seemed as if Satan himself would be staying in this suite. I handed the bottles of expensive liquors to the lady that had swapped the hotel’s bedding to scarlet silk sheets and an elegant blanket. I hurried out of the room that had caused my head to hurt and made me sick to my stomach. I realized I had not prayed the armor on before starting the day, so I stepped in a storage room and put on the needed protection. I received immediate peace in my entire body and being. The walkie-talkie I had in my suit coat pocket produced a beep and was followed by Vin’s voice asking me to go to the kitchen to help organize an oversized order that had arrived. Coming off a refrigerated truck were various meats with labels on the packages: boxes of bacon, briskets, buffalo burgers, filet mignons, hams, porterhouse and prime rib, racks of lamb, ribs, rib-eyes, sausages, strip steaks, turkeys, veal, venison, whole chickens, and cases of wings —and six whole pigs, head intact, ready to roast. There was also all sorts of seafood and shells, calamari, catfish, clams, crab claws and crab legs, crab salad, crawdaddies, flounder, mussels, oysters, salmon, sea bass, shrimp, scallops, sushi, swordfish, tilapia, tuna, and whitefish. Was President George W. Bush going to be in attendance? I wondered. What kind of menu was this going to be? It seemed like all corners were covered that should satisfy the pickiest of persons. I assisted the chefs in organizing the food on the proper racks and shelves to prevent cross contamination. It took nearly an hour to make space, stacking and stuffing the shelves with the insane amount of ingredients. The man from New York seemed to grow more impatient with every second that ed. Standing, waiting with printed sheets of inventory to inspect, he was obviously perturbed as the other chefs played around, not taking him seriously. I was glad when Vin came over the radio, requesting me at the front desk. I walked past the counter unnoticed by the brunette who had her back turned as she looked over the itinerary. I was going to have to work alongside her the next day, checking in all the expected arrivals—366 to be exact. I went down the hallway to Mr. Patel’s office, where he had incense burning below a painting of Brahma. He suggested I change from my suit to casual clothes since I would not be at the front desk or shuttle runs, and he needed me to change the

marquee board by the road. I went through the empty courtyard to the room and changed. After retrieving the letters I would need for the message board and the retractable fifty-foot ladder, I headed toward the tall Day’s Inn International indicator housing the lit marquee. After lifting the ladder thirty feet and propping it onto the base of the board, I grabbed the box of letters and carefully climbed to change the message. Removing the existing details of Bombay Lounge specials, I set the letters to say, “Sorry, due to a large event, we have no vacancy. Welcome, Equinox Group.” I descended the ladder, set it up on the opposite side of the sign, and put the same message on the board. After putting the letters and ladder away, I stocked the toilet paper, towels, hand soap, and sanitizer in all the restrooms on the four floors, the bar, and Bombay Lounge. My checklist of chores were completed. I retired to the room for the evening. Speaking with Tammy and Gaige over the phone was refreshing after the rigorous day. I woke up Wednesday morning and immediately went into prayer. I applied the armor of God in awareness of what lay ahead. Today would be the first time I would work with the brunette since she had shown up to my room in a drunken state. Not only that, but I was confident the many guests arriving this day were going to be greatly challenging. As I read Daniel chapter 11, several verses reminded me of the overall transformation of the establishment we had witnessed in two days. Although the age is describing end time events, there was a similarity in what I had seen in this place. Verse 24 says, “Without warning and stealthily he shall come into the most productive places of a province or among the richest men of a province; he shall distribute among them plunder, spoil, and goods. He shall devise plans against strongholds—but only for a time.” And verse 27 says, “And as for both of these kings, their hearts and minds shall be set on doing mischief; they shall speak lies over the same table, but it will not succeed, for the end is yet to be at the time appointed.” While reading this, I envisioned Mr. Patel with his gold rings and expensive clothing sitting with the engineer of Equinox (who had not arrived yet) at a table in the lounge discussing their individual intentions. The Patels were interested in money more than anything, and of Equinox, that was yet to be seen. Verse 38 says, “But in their place he shall honor the god of fortresses; a god whom his fathers knew not shall he honor with gold and silver, with precious stones, and

with pleasant and expensive things.” I thought of all the expensive decorations and absurd amount of food for their planned feasts. But I was strengthened and encouraged by verse 32: “And such as violate the covenant he shall pervert and seduce with flatteries, but the people who know their God shall prove themselves strong and shall stand firm and do exploits [for God].” I was committed to stand strong and shine for the Lord. After a week of beautiful, sunny weather, I walked outside to a dreary, overcast sky. In the distance, the dark sky showed flashes of lightning, and a low rumbling of thunder could be faintly heard. A storm was approaching. I stopped in the kitchen for my morning meal of flavorful fruit and juice. I gave a hearty greeting to the group of chefs already at work, prepping dishes for the party. A few smiled and waved, while others scowled at my kind word. At the front desk, I looked over the itinerary for the next three days. The program guide that each guest would receive when checking in was titled “A Celebration of Solstice.” The gathering would worship the changing of seasons rather than the One responsible for bringing about brilliant change. As new life was already being witnessed with the budding and blossoming of colorful leaves and flowers, it should bring forth praises to the Creator, not to the creation. Jodi and the blonde bartender walked to the front desk, where I stood. Jodi instructed that when the guests started arriving, she wanted me to assist loading their luggage on the carts as they checked in and accompany them to their rooms with their belongings. She said she would help the brunette with the reservations. All the key cards had been activated and placed in packets for each arrival by room number and name during the night shift. I took my position outside, where a chair had been put behind a cart filled with ice and bottled water. Over the next several hours, the attendees of the Equinox affair arrived in woeful waves. At times, twenty to thirty guests crowded at the front counter. I could only assist two rooms at a time, pushing one cart and pulling another. Mrs. Patel would give me two reservation packets on the same floor to make the process more efficient. As I would unload a cart in a room, the guests, mostly dressed in black and boldly wearing jewelry expressing their allegiance, handed me tips in ones, fives, and tens. I would thank them and put the bills in my suit jacket pocket. Around two o’clock, over two-thirds of the reservations were checked into their rooms. Many people were already drinking in the bar, eating in the Bombay Lounge, and mingling in the banquet halls.

As I sat at the chair outside, Jodi came out and told me the scheduled attendant for the third shift wasn’t going to show up until after 11:00 p.m. She said since it had slowed down and so many had already showed up, I could take the afternoon off since I was needed to man the front desk for a few hours that evening. As I went to the room, I ed people walking around, drinking glasses of wine, going in and out of rooms with doors wide open. The sounds of laughter and partying could already be heard down the hallways. In my room, I emptied my pockets of the tips I had made. I tallied up the bills, then did the math again to make sure my count was correct. It was $333! The wealth of the wicked was providing what was needed to fund my family’s trip to where I was. Within walking distance was a Walmart. I went straightway and wired the money via Western Union to Tammy in Texas. That evening, as I stood at the front desk, many inebriated partiers called from their rooms with complaints and requests. After I spoke with one woman over the phone, moments later, she and another lady showed up standing in front of me. “When do you get off?” one said, and both laughed at the question. “It won’t be for a while,” I replied. “Well, we are in room 404. Why don’t you stop by for a drink? And anything else you might want could be all yours.” She puckered her lips in a mock kiss. The two staggered away, leaning on each other to keep from falling on the floor. Shortly after eleven, the overnight worker relieved me, and I went out the front door and walked around the outside perimeter to the extended-stay section to avoid any other unwanted and uncomfortable propositions. The smell of marijuana was strong in the outside air as people were out on the patios, smoking, talking, and laughing loudly. I certainly didn’t want to know what activities were being performed in the pool and courtyard, but I could hear the commotion coming from that direction. I shook my head and sighed as I went into my room. Closing the door and silencing the noise I prayed for strength and safety for myself and for my family. Thursday began with a headache from hell. I sat up in bed with a pounding in my head. It seemed like all the energy in the place last night had settled on me while I slept. ing the unholy requests from the previous evening

compelled me to armor up again. The headache instantly left, replaced with peace of mind with the words “In Jesus’s name, Amen.” The sea of contrary spirits parted before me as I walked past them with God’s armor in place. As I thought of the snakes in the master suite, I asked God to make my words “wise as a serpent’s yet harmless as a dove.” Only as compelled did I drop scripture in a subtle way as seeds planted secretly among the tares. As often as the Lord put a Word in my heart for a hearer, I spoke it into their life by faith. I was determined to be discreet so not to be reprimanded in retaliation. Despising the demons while showing comion to the confused and confounded. The day was filled with the chore of cleaning up behind the unbelievers. They obviously didn’t believe in picking up anything at all after their parties. Empty beer bottles and cans, glass and plastic cups, plates with uneaten food, even articles of clothing and hotel towels littered the pool and courtyard and were left on tables in the lounge for the limited staff to tend to. The amount of expensive foods tossed in the trash was a travesty when thinking of the hundreds of hungry and homeless nearby on the streets of Nashville. The large dumpster outside of the kitchen was filling up fast with bags of waste and trash. Friday was the day of the spring equinox, and a large portion of the day was spent in the banquet halls. There were videos playing on large flat screens in each hall, varying from Native American, Egyptian, UFO, alien, and solstice, and equinox documentaries. At times, speakers would pay homage to their false gods and discuss the importance of the equinox they were observing. The crowd, all wearing dark garments and resembling a group of witches, wizards, warlocks, wiccan worshipers of pagan personage, responded to the speakers as if in worship. They seemed to chant mantras, even prayers to the equinox itself. It all was eerie and strange. I had gone through the two banquet halls that I helped set up on Tuesday, removing the full trash bags from the receptacles, and was standing in the door way of the largest of the halls where the group was gathered. I noticed there were six men standing by the far wall about ten feet apart from each other. Six men posted by the back wall, same spacing in between, and six on the wall where I stood in the open door, observing. They were all dressed alike in all black—black pants, black dress shirt and tie, black shoes, and black suit jackets with the same red dragon stitched on the jacket as was on the chef’s coats.

The speaker, who was dressed in a black robe and had the hood over his head, saw me standing there, and he stopped speaking. The silence was deafening, and the room seemed to grow darker. He looked at one of the men guarding the room and nodded his head toward me. Everyone in the room turned their head toward me as if hypnotized and gave me a glazed-over stare. The man who had been motioned to, walked over and shut the doors, leaving me standing alone in the middle hall. I heard a familiar voice say, “The devil comes not but for to steal, kill, and destroy.” I took that as my cue to get out of the banquet area. I grabbed the trash bags and quickened my steps to the exit. What with the pentagrams, pagan and occult pendants, jewelry, statues, books, and videos, and the subtle, hidden theme of triple sixes that I had seen, I wasn’t about to be a victim of sacrifice. Receiving discernment in form of a warning word of evil intention, I was thankful to have the armor on protecting me from things unknown to myself. I had to put on a raincoat to carry the trash to the dumpster because it was starting to storm. The wind was whipping about, and the lightning was too close for comfort. I hurried to toss the trash getting pelted in the face by the stinging rain. The thunder rumbled overhead as I ran back to the door, splashing in the water, running in the parking lot. In a few seconds, I had become soaked. I walked through the kitchen, where I saw two chefs take one of six whole pigs from the oven, apple in mouth, gold ring in snout. All twelve chefs were hurrying about, stirring, mixing, cooking, baking, icing, cutting, and slicing. Two were arguing about something, but I didn’t stick around to find out what. I went to the front desk to see what was next. Jodi saw I was dripping wet and asked, “Did you get tossed out in the rain?” I said, “Might as well have been.” She laughed and said, “You should go change and relax for a while. It’s been a busy week. I think everything is good for now. The conference ends at five and is followed by dinner. I don’t think we will be needed much more for a while. Maybe you can come back down around eight o’clock, and we can clean up where needed.” I told her thanks and asked, “Could I drain the pool on the way back there? Maybe if there is no water in the pool, there won’t be a mess in the courtyard in

the morning.” Jodi and the brunette looked at each other, shook their heads, and laughed. I wasn’t joking, though. After changing, I tried calling Tammy, but her phone went straight to voicemail, so I left her a message and asked her to kiss the kids for me. I turned the TV on and tuned in to a rebroadcast of a Billy Graham crusade. He was preaching about Jesus’s death on the cross. He said, “Jesus cried from the cross, ‘It is finished!’ Jesus has done the work. We need only maintain what He has already obtained. How do we maintain, you may ask. By seeking Him first each day we wake. By praying, communing, and fellowshiping with Him. Not only in the morning, but all throughout the day. We must maintain a closeness. You see, this is why Christianity differs from all other religions of the world. It is a personal relationship with Christ. We can talk to Him and He hears us. And if we listen closely, He will speak back. He desires to walk with you and talk with you. The Bible even tells us that He ‘seeks those that worship Him in Spirit and Truth.’” Right after he said this, the TV went black. The storm was causing satellite issues, and no channels were coming in. I turned the TV off, and as I lay there in silence, I fell asleep. I woke a couple hours later to a loud clap of thunder. It was just after seven, so I had an hour before going back to clean. I went to the round table and read the last chapter of Daniel. The chapter heading read “The End Time.” The first verse gives hope to every believer:

“Now at the end time Michael, the great angelic prince who stands guard over the children of your people, will arise. And there will be a time of distress such as never occurred since there was a nation until that time; but at that time your people, everyone who is found written in the Book of Life, will be rescued.”

The room phone rang, and I picked up the receiver. “Hello?” I said. “Hey, Bryan, it’s Jodi. You don’t need to come back down here tonight. The workers in the kitchen cleaned up the dining room after everyone cleared out,

and the lobby just needs a vacuum and light cleanup, which the night person will do. I know we will need to change the big sign by the road in the morning, so you get some rest, and we will see you bright and early.” I said, “Sounds like a plan. Good night.” And I hung up the phone. The next morning, after a breakfast of melons, I gathered the letters for the new message to put on the marquee board. Last night’s storm had moved on, and the sky was solid blue. There was not a cloud in sight. As I changed both sides of the sign, I watched as people loaded their luggage into the trunks of cars, examining, in angry tones, the many round dents left behind from the overnight storm. It must have sounded like the complaints of the Egyptians after the plague of hail stones did its damage. All the decorations were being loaded into a moving truck, and people were starting to leave, heading back to the states from which they came. Several hours went by as I picked trash up from the courtyard and pool area, cleaned and refreshed all the bathrooms on all floors, vacuumed the dining room, and helped strip sheets off beds for housekeeping. By one o’clock, the last of the guests had left. I gathered trash bags and went out to the dumpster. As I closed the lid, I looked up at the blue sky, and something caught my eye. It appeared to be a lone dark cloud just off in the distance. Only it wasn’t a cloud. As I stared at the mass, I noticed its strange movement. There was a fluttering and a swarming motion. It looked like a huge hive of bees or a massive number of bats moving in and out and around one another. I stood and watched for at least ten minutes as it slowly moved farther and farther away until it was just a black speck in the sky many miles away. I wondered if I had just watched all the demons that had been in this place the past three days fly back to some cave or other dwelling place. About two hours later, as I was putting the chairs and tables from the banquet rooms into the storage room, the walkie-talkie in my pocket beeped, and then I heard Jodi’s voice. She said, “Bryan, someone is here to see you at the front desk.” I responded, “Be there in a minute.” I thought perhaps the pastor had stopped by to see if I needed a ride to church tomorrow. When I entered the foyer, I saw Tammy holding Trinity. Then Gaige came running up to me and gave me an excited embrace. My eyes blurred with

tears of joy. I didn’t even know they had left yet, and here they were. Tammy was teary-eyed, too, as we kissed and embraced. I took little Trinity in my arms, kissing her cheeks as she giggled. Jodi, grinning ear to ear, asked, “Do you know these people?” It was my turn to laugh out loud. She said, “I know you have missed them the last two weeks, and you have worked really hard to get them here. Why don’t we put you in the two room suite in the extended stay?” She looked at Tammy and asked, “Do you have a crib? We have a pack-and-play if you need to use it.” Tammy said, “That would be great!” Mrs. Patel told me to take the rest of the day to move my family into the suite and spend time with them and to get a pack-and-play crib from the storage room. I was so happy to see them and was relieved the demons had departed before they had arrived. Four months later, I tuned into the college football game of the week, Alabama versus South Carolina. The battle on the field was intense the entire four quarters of competition. September 29, 2001, in front of the crowd of 84,000 at Williams Brice Stadium in Colombia, South Carolina, the Gamecocks did the unimaginable. For the first time in school history, South Carolina upset the Alabama Crimson Tide. With 2:24 left in the ballgame, South Carolina scored a touchdown and converted the extra point to take the lead 37–36. Carolina’s defense shut down Alabama’s final attempts, as the home crowd cheered the valiant effort that had ended in victory. I ed the cheering with a strained and raspy voice from my celebratory shouting throughout the entire contest. I sat with a huge smile on my face and thought about Staff Sergeant Adam from Alabama. I wondered if he had also watched the game. I wondered if in the Bible I gave had been added his name.

Bats swarming in the sky in a snake-like slither.

Head Coach Lou Holtz led the University of South Carolina over Alabama for the first time in school history.

Celebration at Williams Brice Stadium 9-29-2001

Chapter Nineteen

Test the spirits

“Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.” —1 John 4:1

So not to give ground for Slander to stand, I will refrain from using any names of the people that were a part of this story. Forgive the redundancy of “the pastor” and “the man.” I will, however, name the names of the spirits that showed up to carry out their agendas and also the name that is above every name, the precious name of Jesus. Demons of Division and Chaos were present in the church that Sunday morning. Murmurs and Gossip were running rampant, whispering in the early arrivers’ ears. The church had become a beacon of light in the community over the past few years as ministries had been put into place with guidance of the pastor, who was led by the Holy Spirit. As the attendance grew, the church had built a recreation fellowship building with basketball and racquetball courts. Young people had started coming from the apartment complex two blocks away to Wednesday night Bible study and karate class taught by one of the new . The spirit of evangelism had sparked and the neighborhoods surrounding the church were being canvassed, by those called to that specific ministry, door by door with the good news of Jesus Christ. The hopeless and hurting were receiving help and healing, and souls were being saved. No, the spirit in the air was not like it had been last Sunday. The youth had sung, “There’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place, and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord. There are sweet expressions on each face, and I know that it’s the Presence of the Lord. Sweet Holy Spirit, Sweet heavenly dove, stay right here with us, filling us with Your love. And for these blessings we lift our voice in praise. Without a doubt we’ll know that we have been revived when we shall leave this place.” The youth led worship last week had brought forth many hearty “Amen” from the congregation as the tearful testimonies were given, and laughter came whenever the group’s goofball, the pastor’s youngest son, took the mic. But the entire congregation had applauded the announcement of the two that had been

saved that weekend. (Not only the congregation in attendance in the sanctuary applauded that announcement.) “Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.” The entire weekend had been a time of revival and reconciling for the group of young people beginning with the lock-in on Friday night. Countless attempts from Jealousy and Judgment to disrupt this group of young Christians had been thwarted through the leadership of the youth pastor. His counsel was backed up by his character. Pride and Vanity had no hold over the group for the teenagers learned from his humility and lowliness while feeding the homeless on Saturday mornings. Sarcasm and Insult lost their grips as the student’s began to reflect his kindness and comion. The many attempts to extinguish the fire that had been lit in the heart’s of these young people came to no avail. For they were learning to “submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” But there was another scheme that had already been set into motion. And like a virus, it was now starting to be spread. What had started out as whispers were now the open discussion in the Sunday school classes as Confusion and Distraction ate away at the designated time for study. Some of the teachers discerning this started class with prayer, causing Distraction and Confusion to leave at the naming of Jesus, returning peace back into the room. The senior adults, meeting in the dining hall, opened by singing the Doxology: “Blessed be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love; the fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.” For the past several months, the church had been seeking an associate pastor. The search committee, comprised of deacons and teachers in the church, had been in processes of finding the qualified leader for this honorable position. During this period, a family moved back into the area that had been of the church fifteen years earlier. Many of the families ed them and welcomed them back into fellowship with excitement and open arms. Their two daughters, who had been babies the last time they had been there, were now teenagers. After a couple weeks of the family making a big presence at the church, arriving early and being the last to leave, making sure to get around and speak to everyone, the pastor kept a watchful eye as he had already heard the comments how they had “showed up at the right time so it must be a Godsend” and that he should apply for the assistant pastor position. He initially laughed off such notions with false humility. It seemed to the pastor that everyone was

falling to this guy’s charm. In youth group, the youngest daughter of the new family, who dressed very provocatively, turned to one of the boys in the room and said, “My mom said we took a bath together when we were kids.” To that, all the boys let out a big “What!” The youth she had made the comment to dropped his head in embarrassment, his face turning red. His girlfriend sitting next to him elbowed him hard in the arm. Distraction, Lust, and Jealousy succeeded on the students as frustration fought with the youth pastor. The pastor’s son relayed the events to his father, as did the youth pastor. When the deacons came to the pastor’s office, wanting to name this newcomer as a possible candidate to fill the associate pastor position, the pastor told them he was not sure he was the right person. He asked them to pray and to test the spirits. He read 2 Corinthians 11:14–15 to them. “And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.” The men were persistent, and a trial sermon was scheduled for the following Sunday. The pastor could only give his wise advice and guidance as he received it from God. The man took the pulpit and just spoke to the people about the memories he had from fifteen years earlier. The scripture he had chosen as topic was “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” As he stood in the pulpit, he got louder about judging others as if to drive his point home. He pounded the podium, looking down at his unopened Bible that he wasn’t preaching from, giving a dramatic pause. Then he said, “What if someone came in here looking like this?” He removed his suit coat to reveal that his dress shirt underneath was ripped in several places, the fabric hanging in shreds. His right sleeve was shredded from his shoulder, and his left nipple was exposed. He looked like he was attacked by a wolf. He was almost giving himself away—a wolf in self-destroyed sheep’s clothing. Some in the sanctuary laughed. Some stirred somewhat uncomfortably. He asked, “Would we dare judge anyone just because they looked different than us?”

To this, he received a resounding “No!” He took his Bible and jacket, gave a snide look at the pastor, and sat down proudly as if having given some eloquent speech. Mockery and Arrogance sat on either side of him, giggling. As this matter was a church decision, everyone had a ballot in their bulletin. The ushers ed around the offering plates and collected the votes. The eldest deacon counted the votes and read the church’s decision. The one that had just disrespected the pulpit was named associate pastor. Not even a month ed, and the pastor was heading to his office to pray. As he walked by the associate pastor’s office, he heard a woman’s laughter come from behind the closed door. The pastor knocked on the door. “It’s open,” the man said, although it wasn’t. The pastor opened the door and was shocked to see the church’s young pianist sitting in a chair next to the desk. The pastor firmly rebuked him, “You, being a married man, should not have another woman without your wife present behind closed doors.” To this, the man smugly replied, “I always close the door to give privacy to the person I am giving counsel.” The pastor shook his head, left the door open, and went to his office. He sat his coffee cup on his desk and looked at it. The mug had been a gift from a couple he and his wife had counseled for many years. He had baptized their son and, a few years later, preached the funeral for that same son. The coffee cup read, “Pastor.” He stared at the steam rolling upward from the freshly poured coffee. The memories of years of ministry suddenly overwhelmed this exhausted pastor. He fell to his knees and cried to God. The coffee was forgotten and grew cold in that hour of prayer. Later that evening, after visiting a church member in the hospital, the pastor returned home and prayed with his wife and son. He felt in his spirit that this season was coming to an end and that they should start preparing for the next chapter to begin. He told her about the closed door and the young pianist in the office. From the onset of his pastoral pilgrimage, he had made a rule for himself to ensure no entanglement with Temptation, and in order to not give place to Misunderstanding, he would always include his wife when meeting with other

women. Whether they were married, single, or teachers in the church, it did not matter. After praying with his wife and their son and casting his care to the Lord, the pastor went to bed. The warrior angels, which were always on guard around their home, kept Betrayal and Insult from coming near the dwelling so the pastor could get some rest. Sure, the pastor could vanquish 1,000 with the jawbone of a donkey, but the battle belongs to the Lord. Sometimes the way to win the fight is to just be still, watch, and pray. The pastor and his wife were unified, and he knew what to do. He went to the church and told the new associate pastor that if he did not step down from the position by Sunday, he felt led to resign as a pastor. The spirit in the air that Sunday morning was heavy. Burden and Hurt were now affecting the . Murmur and Gossip were still having a heyday. Judgment still couldn’t believe he had been used to sway the hearts of the voters. Accusation stood by, having not been needed at all. Tolerance, Complacency, and Compromise followed three deacons into the sanctuary. Nervous had entered, and many were feeling his presence. The pastor looked toward his wife on the front pew from his seat on the platform. Both of them were surrounded with brilliantly shining warrior angels, each with drawn swords, ready to vanquish any demon to hell. The choir entered behind the pastor and opened service, singing, “What a Mighty God we serve, what a Mighty God we serve. Angels bow before Him. Heaven and earth adore Him. What a Mighty God we serve.” The congregation ed in as the song was repeated three times. The voices of the congregation were not enthused that morning. Actually, it was the complete opposite. They were lackadaisical and lukewarm. At the conclusion of the chorus, the pastor stood and walked to the pulpit. “Let us pray,” he said, bowing his head. The sound was heard of pews creaking all over the sanctuary as some knelt at their seats and others sat forward in a seated posture of prayer. Demons all over the room responded. Some scoffed, some rolled their eyes, and others grimaced, nearly in pain, at the mention of prayer. “Father,” the pastor began. A demon groaned. “We seek Your guidance today,

Your wisdom. Forgive us from any wrongdoings. Any actions, words, or thoughts that have been displeasing to You, please forgive. Show us mercy and give us grace. Thank You, Lord, for that forgiveness and grace. Thank You for loving us with comion. For the future of this church and the decisions that have been and will be made today be to Your glory and praise. Your will be done. In Jesus’s name. Amen.” A few “Amen” were heard as people settled back in the pews. The devils in the room had let out anguished cries at the mention of the name of Jesus. It was as if each one had suffered a punch to the gut. Each one bowed in pain. A few petty imps, thrown off balance by the power of the name, stumbled to their knees. The pastor continued to speak. The demons hated him, but Hurt could not touch him. Not today. “Before I begin, does anyone have anything they wish to say?” Throats cleared all around the room, but no one spoke. A heavy silence fell across the congregation. The pastor glanced at the associate pastor briefly, then lowered his head and sighed. “I have pastored this church for over seven years. We have witnessed God act out in marvelous ways on our behalf. He has been good to us and blessed us in so many ways in this time. We have laughed together. We have cried together. We have lifted one another up. We have rejoiced together at the birth of babies. We have wept together at the loss of loved ones. We had years where we struggled together, wondering how we would keep the doors open and the lights on, but God always provided. We have rejoiced together in times of revival. But the most important thing that we have seen together are the souls that were saved and the names that were added to the Lamb’s Book of Life. That is all that matters. Romans 8:18 says, ‘For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.’ After much prayer and seeking the Lord for guidance, my wife and I are in agreement that it is time for me to resign as pastor.” The congregation replied by speaking to one another in hushed tones and some saying aloud disappointed nos. “We know, without a shadow of a Doubt, that God is moving us to the next place of service He has chosen for us, and we are excited to be fit for His plan and purpose.” Then the pastor brought his last sermon from that pulpit. “If you will

turn your Bibles to Proverbs chapter 3. We will be looking at versus 5 through 7. When you have found it, all who are capable, please stand for the reading of God’s Word.” When everyone was on their feet, he read, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord, and depart from evil.” The pastor and his wife, son, and daughter started the process of packing. The Lord had shown them the door He had opened as He directed their path. Instead of becoming weary for doing good, they were being refreshed in the same way they had refreshed so many others. A new season had sprung forth, resurrecting their first love for the Lord. A new day had dawned with devotion and a designated destination. They were heading toward new horizons. I recently asked this pastor how many people he had baptized in over forty years of pastoring and teaching the Word of God. He shrugged and said, “I used to keep count but stopped many years ago.” I would have to say, from what I know alone, the number of people saved and baptized by the obedient leadership of this man of God is in the thousands. But it would be worth all the heartaches and worthy of all the Hallelujahs heard over only one. The church fell apart. More than half the ed other bodies of believers and found places to fill, using their gifts for God’s glory. The that remained in of the man they appointed to lead them were very shortly led into a ditch by the same man. He and the pianist acted out the Affair, crushing the spirit of his wife. Depression and Blame still have her in chains to this very day. Divorce destroyed another home. Wherever he goes from here on out, Shame and Guilt will always be his companions. As for the church, God has His plans too. A young Korean pastor had been praying for a place to lease to be a center for worship for the expanding Korean families in the community and for the church buildings, family life center, parking lot, and land was just being put up for sale or lease at the same time! “What a Mighty God we serve! What a Mighty God we serve! Angels bow before Him. Heaven and earth adore Him! What a Mighty God we serve!” As the banner for the new Korean church was being placed on the front of the

church facing the road, Racism, Anger, Vandal, and Strife were watching in the shadows from across the street. But they dared not cross the street because of the army of angels surrounding the Korean Christians and all around the church grounds.

Korean pastor bringing the Good News to the congregation.

Korean Christians celebrate acquiring facilities for their gathering.

Chapter Twenty

The Trumpet

“And He will send His angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.” —Matthew 24:31

Summer 2006 found us in my hometown of Lancaster, South Carolina. I had finally made it back home for a season. The opportunities to visit with family were more frequent here than out in Texas or Tennessee. Gaige was ten, and Trinity was just months from turning two. Tammy and I had bought a small above ground pool for the kids to splash around in and cool off in the hot sunshine. Something about the moments of laughter from my children warms my heart like the sun. But to see a child follow in the footsteps of faith is forever fulfilling. I was witness when Gaige gave his heart to Christ at age six, the same age I was when surrendering to the Savior. I watched as his faith flourished in four years. He would tell kids on the school bus about Jesus, for he was witness to many miracles. One incident occurred when he was seven that showed his already strong faith. I had been working on a cattle-and-turkey farm. When the month of June arrived, the boss, Earl Threadkill, wanted to build a gazebo by the lake for his wife. It was going to be a surprise for her, and plans were to have it finished for the Fourth of July celebration. We busied ourselves after normal chores were completed every day for those four weeks with, first, the foundation and then framing the walls and ceiling, selecting and erecting the cedar boards, screen windows to keep insects out, and the finishing touches of lighting and ceiling fans. Cutting it close, we moved in tables and chairs, a pool table, a large smoker for the barbeque, and then we put down squares of bermuda grass around the work area outside the gazebo. The project was completed to satisfaction and was ready for the celebration with two days to spare. Earl had called in family and friends for the surprise party. The afternoon of the fourth brought many cars and trucks down that long dirt road to the lake. The smoker was producing the smell of slow-cooking briquettes, burgers, and baked beans. Tammy was helping set the tables with plates and utensils and was putting

ice in cups. It had been a busy week, and I had taken a chair down to the dock and was watching fish jumping in the lake and ducks devour their dinner. Gaige had ed a group of children playing with sparklers as they waited for burgers and fireworks. As I looked at the green-headed mallards duck their heads into the water and come up with a small fish, I thought of how well God takes care of all His creation. As the psalmist said, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” As I reflected on that thought and how so many times God had always provided for us in such wonderful ways, I heard Gaige scream. It was a loud scream of pain that captured everyone’s attention. He came running up to me on the dock. “Daddy, it hurts. Please pray so the pain will go away.” The faith of a child. The crowd of people were all watching with concern. I looked at where Gaige was pointing to his right foot. He had dropped a lit sparkler on it. The top of his foot was already blistering and charred. I stooped down and gently placed my hand on his foot, causing him to wince. I prayed, “Lord, please touch Gaige’s foot and take the pain away. Send Your healing so Gaige can play with his new friends and enjoy the evening with no pain. Thank You, Jesus, for You are the same today as you were yesterday and will always be. You are still our Healer, our Provider, our strength and joy. Thank You, Lord. In Your name, we ask this. Amen.” As soon as I said, “Amen,” Gaige said, “Thanks, Daddy. The pain went away.” He then ran back to where the kids were waiting for him, and the laughter and games commenced. I glanced around to see several people looking at Gaige in wonder. Yes, miracles still happen to those that believe. Faith the size of a mustard seed still moves mountains out of our way. And we may never know on this earth who is watching as those mountains move, no matter how big or small they may be. This, undoubtedly, was one of those experiences where God had, once again, proven Himself at His Word to Gaige. As his faith grew, I watched his gentleness and wisdom beyond his years as he read his Bible daily, wanting to lead prayer at every meal and be involved in drama at church. Whenever we gathered with family and he would pray over a meal, everyone could hear his heart as he spoke to his Savior. A gentle, sweet, absolute faith. “From the mouth

of babes comes perfected praise.” Isn’t that how God wishes we all approach Him? With no Doubt of Who He is and what He can do. James tells us when we ask of the Lord for something, not to allow Doubt to enter our mind or heart, for this can cancel our requests if we don’t truly believe He can carry out His promise. God blessed Gaige’s unwavering belief in ways beyond words. One day during those years, we were gathered together at a restaurant with many family , enjoying fellowship. After everyone had ordered, we paused our conversations to bless the food before it arrived so the waitress would not have to wait when she brought the food. Normally, my dad, who is the patriarch of our entire family, would lead in prayer. As he brought the family to attention for the giving of thanks, Gaige raised his hand and asked his grandfather if he could pray. Daddy said, “Of course, you can pray, Gaige.” We all bowed our heads as he led us in a precious prayer. All around the table came hearty “Amen” as he concluded, “In Jesus’s name.” I was sitting next to my mother and across from my Grandma and Grandpa Steele. Mama, grinning, looked at Gaige and said, “Thank you, Gaige. That was a beautiful prayer.” Grandma leaned forward and said to me, “He prays like a little preacher.” Indeed, he did. Gaige was now ten and becoming quite observant of the greatness of God. For He is the One that never sleeps, never slumbers, and never stops working on our behalf. He does answer our prayers in His perfect time, always protecting us and upholding all things in His power. Gaige was at that sensitive age where he could possibly see and hear things that I didn’t. Mostly because he was watching and listening without the Distraction and Burden we face as fathers to pay the bills and put food on the table. But we must also take the time to “train our children in the way they should go, so that as they grow older they will not depart from the truth.” We had spent the day playing baseball with the neighbor’s kids in the front yard and then cooled off in the pool. I watched as Gaige and Trinity splashed and laughed in the water. He really loved his little sister, and I knew he would always watch over, protect, and defend her. After relaxing in the pool for a while, we

went inside and got out of our wet clothes. Once dry and comfortable, sipping on sweet tea with lemon the Southern way, Gaige looked at me with wet hair and said, “Dad, I had a dream last night, and I don’t know what it means.” I asked what he had dreamed. He explained in very vivid detail: “I was running at night in the dark, through old buildings, away from something, but toward something as well. I felt like I was running away from something and toward something at the same time—to see something, to witness something. What it turned out to be was a coliseum, a modern-day coliseum, maybe a football stadium, but everybody was there. It was filled with people. Everybody was cheering, and it was being used like a coliseum because there was this giant beast with many heads. I think seven heads. I wasn’t cheering it on like everybody else was. I was just there to see it. But everybody else was really, really into it. I don’t know what the monster’s purpose was. I could imagine it was for some gladiator combat, something real old school, it seemed. It felt like a monster truck rally. After that, I kept running. I ran away toward similar buildings, and I ran into what I assume is what I was running away from. It was this man with a scorpion-like appearance, covered head to toe all in metallic armor. And his huge tail was in the air, ready to strike. And that’s where the dream ended. I don’t anything after that.” I immediately thought of specific scriptures in the book of Revelation. Gaige had been reading through Psalms at my urging. These are the songs I was started on in my young Christian pilgrimage. He had not read the book of Revelation or heard any preaching at church concerning these certain ages. How could he have dreamed such imagery having never seen or heard the signs written in Revelation? How could he have seen it unless he had been shown? I told him that his dream was one of prophecy concerning the last days. I turned in my Bible and read to him from the last book of the Bible: “Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on its heads.” Gaige exclaimed, “That’s exactly what I dreamed, but I never read that before!” I replied, “See? I told you. Wait. There’s more.” I flipped the page. “So they worshiped the dragon who gave authority to the beast; and they worshiped the beast, saying, ‘Who is like the beast? Who is able to make war with him?’”

Gaige read along and then looked at me with wide eyes. “It even calls it a beast! So in my dream, everybody was cheering the dragon with seven heads and the big beast in the coliseum, just like it says in the Bible.” I told him I was glad he was only an observer, and not one ing in with the worship. He said, “Yeah, me too. But when I ran away, who did I run into?” I replied with the writing of Revelation:

“And I looked, and I heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, ‘Woe, woe, woe to the inhabitants of the earth, because of the remaining blasts of the trumpet of the three angels who are about to sound!’ Then the fifth angel sounded: And I saw a star fallen from heaven to the earth. To him was given the key to the bottomless pit. And he opened the bottomless pit, and smoke arose out of the pit like the smoke of a great furnace. So the sun and the air were darkened because of the smoke of the pit. Then out of the smoke locusts came upon the earth. And to them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power. They were commanded not to harm the grass of the earth, or any green thing, or any tree, but only those men who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. And they were not given authority to kill them, but to torment them for five months. Their torment was like the torment of a scorpion when it strikes a man. In those days men will seek death and will not find it; they will desire to die, and death will flee from them. The shape of the locusts was like horses prepared for battle. On their heads were crowns of something like gold, and their faces were like the faces of men. They had hair like women’s hair, and their teeth were like lions’ teeth. And they had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the sound of chariots with many horses running into battle. They had tails like scorpions, and there were stings in their tails. Their power was to hurt men five months. And they had as king over them the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon, but in Greek he has the name Apollyon. One woe is past. Behold, still two more woes are coming after these things.”

“So what I saw in my dream is really going to happen on earth, Dad?” Gaige asked as a grown adult in a little boy’s body.

I encouraged him that we don’t have to worry about the scorpions because they cannot harm those that have the seal of God, which we do. I turned to the book of Daniel and read: “At that time Michael shall stand up, the great prince who stands watch over the sons of your people; And there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation, even to that time. And at that time your people shall be delivered, every one who is found written in the book.” As we talked, it had grown stuffy in the house as the sun was starting to set below the trees that humid summer evening in South Carolina. We walked out onto the porch into the cooler gentle breeze. As I continued talking about the seven trumpets sounding, leading up to the last trump when Jesus returns, I heard the faint sound from the distance in midsentence. I blew it off and talked on, but Gaige interrupted in a hushed tone, “Dad, did you hear that?” I said, “Yeah, it sounded like a…” And we both said “Trumpet” at the same time. He heard it, and I heard it. We both . I asked him the other day to give me any details he can recall of the dreams he had when he was younger to include in this chapter, which have been very helpful for us both. The accurate details that only he ed was my need. His was met by our growing closer in fellowship and faith and in the recalling of the dreams he had been given by God in the night. Here is his recollection of another dream with present-day prophecy. “The second dream was even shorter. I it was several years later after the first dream. I was a teenager. We lived on the highest mountain I think we ever lived on. We had to trudge up like a forty-five-degree-angle hill to our house. From our front porch, I , was the view of thick mountain trees. But in the dream all the trees were gone and all I could see were armies marching. It was real medieval looking. They didn’t look like modern-day armies. They were all wielding flags with different symbols. Each one was different colors and patterns, and each one had a specific symbol that almost looked alien like. It makes me think of the beginning of pod races in Star Wars: Phantom Menace. Before the race starts, each pod racer had their own flags, with different colors and symbols on them. Old school C3-PO, before he’s finished, is

holding little Anakin’s flag. I don’t know. It makes me think of that,” Gaige said with a little laugh. “What they did, in the dream, all they did, was run across the hill. It seemed more fast from my perspective, standing on the porch, hands on the railing, just watching. I can’t if it was one army or multiple armies. With all the different flags, I can only assume it was many armies, but I don’t really know. I’ve been trying to figure out. I’m not really sure.” I reminded my son what I had interpreted the dream to mean when he first relayed it to me over ten years ago. Things apparently are quickly leading to the return of Christ for His bride. After the wedding feast of the Lamb, we will return with Him on white horses as He does away with the deceiver of the world. We will watch as the one that warred against us on earth is cast into hell where he and his Fallen Angels will forever remain while we worship and reign with Jesus for all eternity.

“And I saw the beast, the kings of the earth, and their armies, gathered together to make war against Him who sat on the horse and against His army. Then the beast was captured, and with him the false prophet who worked signs in his presence, by which he deceived those who received the mark of the beast and those who worshiped his image. These two were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone.”

Gaige and Trinity (2002).

Gaige graduating first grade. He had begun having prophetic dreams.

Gaige awaiting the solar eclipse (August 21, 2017), reflecting upon his revealing dreams.

Mother’s Day 2020 Gaige and Tammy.

Chapter Twenty-One

WOE!

“Then the fifth angel sounded: And I saw a star fallen from heaven to the earth. To him was given the key to the bottomless pit. And he opened the bottomless pit, and smoke arose out of the pit like the smoke of a great furnace. So the sun and the air were darkened because of the smoke of the pit.” —Revelation 9:1–2

There is no way I will ever deserve such great grace and marvelous mercy and the forgiveness that extends as far as the east is to the west. To be used as an instrument to bring Him praise, glory, and honor is my utmost desire. And times when God has opened doors of opportunity to be a vessel of water to thirsty hearts, it is only because He had filled mine to overflowing with His goodness. As I had sat behind my drum kit during worship that Sunday morning at the home of a member of Bethel Baptist Church engulfed in the Presence of the Holy Spirit as He moved in the midst of those gathered together in the name of Jesus. We were singing, “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longeth after you.” Such a unity and oneness were the keyboard and drums in a spirit of worship. The voices in the room singing seemed to be accompanied by more voices than were visibly present. I have been in arenas with thousands of people worshiping and praising God but had never felt His presence as thick as it was in that group of about thirty Christians. As if everyone felt it, the singing turned into prayers of adoration and tongues. Vaughan continued to play the keyboard as my drumsticks lightly danced around the cymbals. I picked up my rain stick and turned it over the sound of rain entered the room. Not only the sound of rain, but the floodgates of heaven soaked us all. A gray-haired lady sitting in the front row of folding chairs stood up, speaking boldly in a heavenly tongue for several moments and immediately thereafter interpreted with understanding. Everyone applauded after each testimony was given. We performed a couple original songs as the worship extended over with no time restraints. Bogdan asked us to share the inspiration behind the songs to which our mutual response was the forgiveness of God through Jesus Christ. I gave testimony that I had just gotten out of jail the day before and here God was allowing me to be a part of

this worship experience. Not only that, but I sat next to the brother whom I had sinned against by forging his name on a check. I was forgiven, and my fault was cast into a sea of forgetfulness. I had been set free. The fellowship spilled over into the driveway as we loaded the keyboard and drums back into that prophesied van. Bogdan was beaming and boisterous as always, such an encouraging brother. He had been instrumental in the reconnection and reconciliation of Vaughan and me after my Betrayal. What is impossible with man is possible with God. As Bogdan attended many rehearsals and writing sessions, he was always excited and encouraging and brought an excellent spirit. Pastor Joel Rhodes and his wife, Sharon, stood by as we all laughed with overflowing joy. Pastor Rhodes said, “I pray the Lord uses your songs to bring many souls to the Lord and revival to the land. Our kids and youth need a fresh word from the Lord, and I believe He will use new songs that they will hear to speak to them.” The pastor’s wife said, “Bogdan told us you don’t have a car, and with the bank trying to repossess everything that belongs to the church, we thought better to let you drive it for a while than leaving it parked at the church.” It was another undeserved blessing. After unloading the equipment back at the studio and a few moments of reflection of the service, Tammy and I hugged Vaughan and Angela. We had all grown a little closer that day. As we pulled out of the driveway, I asked Tammy, “Are you hungry?” She said with a smile, “No, I’m full.” I gave her a wink and said, “I know what you mean.” It was a beautiful day, sun shining from a blue sky, so we decided to spend some time at the lake. Driving in the direction of lake Ray Hubbard, we stopped at a gas station to refuel and grab drinks and snacks. I went inside to make my selection and pay for gas while Tammy sat in the van reading from a Daily Bread devotional. As I exited the convenience store with slim jims, powdered donuts, a Dr. Pepper for Tammy and a Mt. Dew for me, I looked toward the van to see a man standing by the enger door talking to Tammy. In an instant, Jealousy and Anger poked me, pointing at the man. As I approached he turned with a

startled look on his face. “Can I help you?” I asked him. He replied, “Oh, I was just iring her haircut and was wondering where she went to get it styled.” I gave a sarcastic “Ummm hmmm.” He quickly walked away. I handed Tammy the bag and walked around to pump the gas. I looked in the direction the man had went, but he was nowhere to be seen as if he had vanished. My harsh, hateful attitude suddenly softened. I replaced the gas cap after filling up and returned to the drivers seat. I asked Tammy, “What did that man want?” She said he had told her that her hair was really nice. I asked, “Oh, is that the latest pickup line?” How quickly and subtle Flattery can catch us off guard. I have wrestled with Anger and Temper for most of my adult life, but Tammy has a way of calming me down with firm yet gentle correction. I have noticed many times over the years how we balance each other out. My weak areas are her strengths and visa versa. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward our destination. As the first glimpse of the large lake came into view, the sun’s reflection sparkled atop the ripples made by jet skiers and boaters. I ed a few play areas packed with parent’s and their children and teenagers playing volleyball. I saw a secluded spot with a picnic table and backed into the parking spot with the rear of the van facing the lake. We climbed out of the van, drinks in hand, and started walking along the waters edge away from a few people sitting in lawn chairs fishing. We walked hand in hand until there was no one around and sat down, looking at the soothing sight. We relaxed in the cool grass and basked in the warm sun. What a contrast of conditions from yesterday to today! It is difficult to find any comfort in a jail cell. It’s cold, bleak, loud, with beds of steel. But here, it was comfortably warm, brilliantly colorful, quiet and still. Lying on a soft bed of grass, we reenergized in the sunlight listening to the birds chirp on that glorious Sunday afternoon. We soaked up the sights and sounds like two sponges for nearly an hour. We decided to take a walk and had a choice of the trail for walkers, joggers, and bicyclists through the trees or strolling by the lakes edge. We chose the lake’s edge. Lake Ray Hubbard is an expansive man-made lake, so the shoreline is comprised

of sand and pebbles. We took off our sandals to feel the cool sand underfoot. As we walked barefoot, leaving our footprints in the sand, I thought of that now famous poem of Jesus carrying us through life’s difficulties leaving only His prints behind. We walked waving at boaters out on the lake, stopping from time to time when spotting a smooth, flat rock to skip across the top of the water. Eventually, we had walked out of sight of any other human presence. It was as if we were the only two people in the world. All was calm and bright. We continued our journey, holding hands leaving our steps in the sand. Then something caught my eyes that stopped me dead in my tracks. There was a word that looked as if a finger had spelled out the three letters: “WOE.” I felt an instant sense of alarm. This is not the same word as if halting a horse. No, this word means sorrow, distress, tribulation. I studied the word written in the sand. It looked fresh and the dirt was still moist. The letters looked like flames reminding me of the Hebrew alphabet. I noticed also that there were no footprints in the direction we were going and only our tracks were behind us. As we stood there, a strong breeze started blowing causing the lakes surface to become turbulent and mock waves began to crash on the bank. We watched as the blue sky was being replaced with clouds of an unusual color. It was the tinge of rust mixed with a reddish-brown, like the color of smoke from a burning chemical factory. There was what appeared to be a brilliant star piercing through the darkened sky. But how could a star be close enough to protrude through clouds in our atmosphere? We wondered if it were a helicopter or plane, but it stayed right above the lake for quite some time without moving from it’s position. I glanced at my watch. It read 3:33 p.m. Supposing it might rain, we started walking back toward the van, keeping our eyes on the strange star or whatever it was. There was a pulsing of brightness from the tail still cutting, like a sword, through the smoke-colored clouds. There was an ominous and foreboding feeling in the air. We made our way back to where we had parked observing families gathering their lawn chairs and fishing gear. The wind was steady, and the sky was strangely dark except for that unusual light in the clouds. And now the sight we were witnessing was accompanied by a certain scent. Tammy asked, “What is that horrible smell?” When I was fourteen, I received a chemistry kit for Christmas. I would do all sorts of experiments in the garage and was very familiar to that odor. It was the

smell of sulfur that seemed to burn the nostrils when inhaled. Empty chip bags and sandwich wrappers drifted by with the wind that had neither increased nor decreased. Only a steady stirring of suspense was suspending the Sunday afternoon’s activities. When we arrived at the van, we found ourselves once again the only ones around. Everyone had packed up their picnics and exited the park. There had not been a drop of rain, and we were both very intrigued by the light in the sky that was still hovering overhead, so we decided to stay and observe. I opened the back doors of the van and folded down the backseat into the sleep-away bed. We sat facing the lake, feeling the warm breeze blow on our legs. I told Tammy that our observations over the last two hours brought to mind the ages in Revelation about an angel sounding a trumpet. I had left my Bible in a tote back at Vaughan’s when we unloaded the equipment and instruments, so I was unable to reference which of the seven angel’s trumpet blast brings about similar imagery. The sky turning dark with clouds that looked like smoke. The smell of sulfur and the star suspended overhead and the word “WOE” written in the sand —the only thing that was missing from the scenario was the blast of a trumpet. This was not a dream or a vision for the transition of conditions was witnessed by everyone at the lake that day. However, I wonder how many related the details of events to the book of Revelation. Furthermore, only Tammy and I had seen the word “WOE,” which had initiated the pondering of the age. A sign of the times perhaps. When God created the stars and strategically placed them in the heavens, He said, “Let them be used for days and years, for signs and seasons.” We do not know the day or hour that prophesied events will take place. But we are told throughout God’s Word to be watchful. All scripture will be fulfilled. As we witness these signs unfold before our eyes, should we not be all the more watchful in these times? My dad, years ago in a sermon, told of a Christian orphanage that was the home to many children that had no hope of their parent’s ever coming to get them. But the workers and teachers taught the kids that one day Jesus would come and take them to a beautiful home in heaven. It was a challenge for the orphanage workers to keep the windows clean of the fingerprints left behind every day because the children were looking for Jesus. What a difference it would make in our daily lives if we were looking for Jesus. Would it change where we leave our footprints and

fingerprints? Tammy repositioned herself on the hideaway. She sat legs crossed, Indian style, looking out of the large window at the lake. I closed the back doors and sat in one of the captain’s chairs, turning my attention to the powdered donuts. I consumed half the bag in a matter of minutes. I chugged the Mountain Dew and, feeling satisfied, sat back in the seat and closed my eyes. I must have drifted off momentarily (who knows for how long), and I was awakened by Tammy asking, “Did you see that?” When I opened my eyes toward her voice, there was a yellow glow radiating from her face. I could not make out any facial features. Only light. I looked intently at her and asked, “What?” She explained that as she was looking out across the rippling waters surface she had seen Jesus approach from the far side of the lake, making a straight path right up to the window she was looking out of, and He had vanished from sight. I told her she had a glowing face. The brightness was slowly diminishing and her eyes, mouth, nose, and ears were starting to come into view. I just stared at her in awe until the glow had faded completely, revealing a radiant, beaming, beautiful, smiling face. I must have seen her as Adam saw Eve coming out of his deep sleep to see his help mate. I have marveled so many times in our marriage at the incredibly inspired, colorful, creative, and visually vivid works of art that my wonderful wife has woven to the words that have been written. We were, no doubt, paired for His purpose.

“Haven’t you read,” He replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female, and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has ed together, let no one separate.” —Matthew 19:4–6

Bryan and Tammy Stewart (2001). To love and to cherish.

To have and to hold.

In sickness and in good health

For better and for worse, in good and bad times

Till death do us part. My heart overflows with gratitude to the Lord. It is by His grace that we have made it thus far. I am such a blessed man. Despite the many attacks from the enemy, we stand victorious in Christ alone. To Him be all glory, honor, and praise.

This vision was given to my wife, who designed every detail with patience and commitment to completion. It represents our sojourn through the seasons of life on earth as we seek heaven. Hidden in the picture are twelve angels and the twelve precious stones that are the foundations of New Jerusalem. I adore my helpmate. She is lovely to the depths of heart; that is her art.

Chapter Twenty-Two

There’s a Snake!

And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the left. —Isaiah 30:21

The first mention in the Bible of an angel is in the creation given by Moses in Genesis. After creating the earth, sea, sky, and entire universe, all the animals and life on earth, the first man, Adam, and his wife Eve, and blessed them, God gave one command.

And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

In Genesis 3, we see the story unfold.

Now the serpent was more crafty, than any creature that God created. Creeping into the garden, unto the woman where he asked her, “Did God really say that you must not eat any fruit in the garden?” “Yes, we may eat of the fruit from any tree. But there is one, that if we eat, or even touch, we will surely die.” “No, you will not die. You will be wise, and your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God.” Delightful to the eyes, desiring to be wise, deceived by the lies, she took of the fruit, and they ate.”

Adam and Eve were in perfect paradise, surrounded by the utmost beauty of

fully blossomed flowers and trees bearing all manner of fruit. Animals of all species lived at peace with one another. Birds flew around, and butterflies fluttered about. There were rivers flowing, and God walked with them in the garden in the cool of the day. This is when the first angel is mentioned—not just any angel, but a fallen angel, the leader of the rebellion, Lucifer himself. Notice that he waits for an opportunity when Adam and Eve are not together but, for whatever the reason, are divided. The serpent, the old snake, the dragon preys on the woman who was without her husband, who was created to be the head of the household. Now the serpent had not been cursed to crawl on his belly yet, so this was no ordinary snake. After spending time with the beasts of the field, the small and the great, a creature more intriguing, attractive, and alluring entered the garden and approached Eve. We are given an accurate description of Satan by the apostle John in Revelation.

“Then another sign appeared in heaven. It was a huge red dragon. It had seven heads and ten horns. On its seven heads it wore seven crowns. The dragon’s tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky. It threw the stars down to earth. The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to have a baby. The dragon wanted to eat her child the moment he was born.”

Now there’s a snake! Eve had possibly ridden atop an elephant or even a rhinoceros. She may have lain next to a lion, or cuddled with a cougar. She had known no fear for she had never sinned. Fear, shame, guilt, and pain all came after the fall from grace. From the detailed description given by John, the sly serpent must have been the most magnificent of any of the other animals she had seen, and according to Moses, the most clever, crafty, and cunning of them all. He misconstrued God’s command ever so slightly in his question to her: “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” A question asked, unless rhetorical, usually requires a response. So Eve carried on a conversation with one, causing her to question the Words God had commanded them. This is why he is also known as the father of lies. He lured the mother of creation with subtle, simple, crafty lies.

“When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, and he ate it.”

There is a certain strategy seen in scripture of Satan’s method of manipulation by appealing to three types of appetites. First John 2:16 says, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.” When looking at the two verses, we see the strategy leading to tragedy. Eve saw the forbidden fruit to be good for food—the lust of the flesh. She saw the forbidden fruit to be pleasing to the eye—the lust of the eyes. She saw the forbidden fruit desirable to make one wise—the pride of life. The tantalizing Temptation turned out to be too much to resist. Then came the blame game.

“And the man said, ‘The woman whom You gave to be with me—she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God said to the woman, ‘What is this that you have done?’ And the woman said, ‘The serpent beguiled and deceived me, and I ate from the forbidden tree.’ The Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this, you are cursed more than all the cattle, and more than any animal of the field; on your belly you shall go, and dust you shall eat all the days of your life. And I will put enmity (open hostility) between you and the woman, and between your seed (offspring) and her Seed; He shall fatally bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel.’ The history of humanity has been written from hardships because of that first decision to disobey. Rebellion resulted in removal from God’s garden. This is where we, for the first time in the Bible, read of an angel of the heavenly hosts. ‘After He drove the man out, God stationed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.’”

In early spring of 2011, I started working on a western horse ranch in East Texas called Wheeler Ranch. The main focus on this farm was breaking and training horses to barrel race. There were a couple cutting horses trained to cull out cattle from a herd. The ranch was family friendly and hosted birthday parties and other

special occasions. On two acres was a playground with slides and swings, seesaws, and monkey bars. There was a basketball court, volleyball court, sand boxes, four small houses, and a cottage for kids. Each house had chairs in a room, and small kitchen appliances, with all the fake ingredients to fix a fine meal. There were baskets with toys, balls, and cars. This place was set up for children to get lost in imagination. There were picnic tables and chairs around a huge firepit and stack of wood ready to light and roast hotdogs and marshmallows. Mr. Wheeler had asked me to weedeat around the volleyball court and rake around the cottage houses, to make ready for an birthday party. I gathered the weedeater, fuel, a rake, hoe, and machete and put them in the tractor bucket. I climbed into the seat of the orange Kubota, turned the key starting the engine, and drove down the driveway toward tiny town. My plan was to start weed eating around the picnic tables and fire pit, so I steered in their direction. As I ed the cottage on my left, I noticed the details that had gone into little houses. The windows opened and closed, the doors had doorknobs, and faucets with hoses were attached to water the small gardens. Each house was painted a different color and was topped with real shingles. I later learned the little world had been built for the Wheeler children and grandchildren who were all grown. Now it is part of the attraction for party kids. As I ed the last little house on the left, a strong voice of warning came from my right side: “There’s a snake!” I quickly turned in the direction of the voice, and I saw that a massive copperhead was slithering toward the tractor. I immediately dropped the tractor bucket, trapping the snake’s body underneath. I jumped from the tractor and picked up the machete from the bucket. I looked at the serpent struggling to escape the dire situation to no avail. I drew back the blade and, with one swift swipe, beheaded the cold-blooded beast. As I looked at the large diamond-shaped head of the venomous viper severed from its still coiling body, I recalled a day when I was six years old. Daddy was pastoring his first church, New Haven Baptist, and also attending Fruitland Bible College. He would be away studying during the week and was home for preaching and pastoring on the weekends. This particular day, when Daddy was away, Mama was busy working in her garden. I sat in the cool grass outside of

the section cleared and prepared for planting seed. Mama had a hoe in her hands, removing stones and rocks from the tilled rows. I examined each stone to see if any should be kept for my rock collection. As we both busied ourselves with our work, our dog, Smokey, started barking a fierce and ferocious bark we had never heard from him before. We turned to see Smokey swatting at a big serpent with his paw and barking face to face at the snake. It had slithered close to my mother, and at every attempt to turn toward her, Smokey would paw the snake off course again. Mama drew back the hoe and, in one strong motion, brought the blunt blade of the hoe down, removing the snake’s head. I stood there at six, mind-blown. Mama showed me the way to handle a snake! You don’t handle it; you just kill it.

“’This day the Lord will give me the victory over you. I’ll strike you down. I’ll cut your head off. This day I’ll feed the bodies of the Philistine army to the birds and wild animals. Then the whole world will know there is a God in Israel. The Lord doesn’t rescue people by using a sword or a spear. And everyone here will know it. The battle belongs to the Lord. He will hand all of you over to us.’ As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly to the battle line to meet him.”

I met my marvelous mate in September 1997. For two months, we went for walks in parks and talked for hours every night on the phone until she would fall asleep. I would listen to her breathing as she slept over the phone and write lyrics or study the Word. Tammy accompanied me to the Morning Star studio for our rehearsals and recording sessions and would along on the tambourine or shaker. Sometimes she would sit and sketch while we played or come up with dance choreography to certain songs. After spending a great deal of time with her and getting to know and adore her and her eight-month-old son, Gaige, I could not deny my deep feelings for them. Tammy had shared with me her hurtful and painful past. My heart hurt for her, and I wanted to take care of her and show her the true love my entire life has been shown. Something in her entire life she had never known. She did have a heart for God and desired to serve Him but had never been encouraged to use her

gifts or even know her gifts. She desperately needed a shepherd to feed her. Then one evening her phone went to voicemail without ringing whenever I called. I left several messages over the next few days when receiving the same result. I was bummed out, for sure, but more concerned about her than anything. I prayed for her every morning and every night that week. Then late one night while watching The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, my phone rang. I answered the phone and heard Tammy, who was crying and frantic. She told me she felt like her heart was going to explode. She was so scared and said something told her to call me. I prayed as she struggled to breathe in air. I continued praying until she started to settle down over the phone. I asked if she had any more of whatever she had been doing. She said yes, so I instructed her to flush it so the Temptation, at least temporarily, would not be there with her. She followed my leadership. Her obedience most likely saved her life that night. But it was just the first of many attempts by the adversary to take her out. In response to Tammy’s newfound love of the Lord and having visions and spiritually desiring to bring glory to God, the devil had dangled her fleshly desires before her eyes. Following after him, he quickly bound her to addiction and lust. In just a week’s time there was a drastic difference in her. She had been drained of joy, robbed of peace, and stripped of faith. She was ashamed, weak, and fearful. I became her and Gaige’s watchman that night. The next three months was an intense battle between good and evil in Tammy’s life. She had fallen into a trap and didn’t even know the depth of the dungeon. She was torn between her heart and her head. She told me she had strong feelings for me, but also for him. I told her it didn’t make sense to me that she nearly died and was at all attracted to what tried to kill her. I tried my best to persuade her to stay away from him, that the next time she may not be able to get ahold of me. I told her the safest place on the planet was standing next to me. God’s grace provided that I was there to answer her call the next time it happened. She told me where she was, and when I got to her side, she was gasping to get air and her heart was racing at a ridiculous rate. I found it disgusting how this devil would do his deed to her, dope her up, and then leave her to die all alone. But God had me there at the right time to hold her, pray life and peace over her by the love of the Lord. Eventually, her erratic heartbeat would slow to the tempo of my own, and her breathing would calm as she would sleep peacefully held in the arms of love. Once again, the devil’s attempts had

been thwarted. He cannot take one of God’s children out of His hands. Even if he tries and tries and tries again, he will never win. “Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world.” A few weeks of prayer for Tammy and Gaige followed. I committed them unto God, knowing He is able to keep them safe, and I knew that He had begun a good work in her, and He would be faithful to finish it, so I was at peace concerning her protection. I prayed for her. I asked for her to be my bride, for her to walk by my side. I had seen her heart through her eyes. I had seen her vision in her expressions and through her sketches. She had put art to my music. She brings lyrics to life in deep detail. The things we do together to bring God glory, He assists us with speed and establishes our thoughts. Where two are in agreement in Jesus’s name, there is more power than we even understand. One morning, an unexpected phone call from Tammy had me excited. She asked where I was as asked if I needed a ride anywhere. I did not have a car at the time and walked everywhere I needed to go most of the time. I occasionally rode the D.A.R.T. bus, but I mostly walked. Tammy had impressed me greatly when she walked with me from the mall in Mesquite to meet my parents in Garland, Texas. I would say a good twelve-mile trek. She was sweaty and red-faced the first time she met Daddy and Mama. I put on my hippest shirt and cords, grabbed my hat and bag containing my notebooks of lyrics and sat outside waiting for Tammy. I wondered if she had a new car or was riding with someone else. My wondering ceased when a car pulled up in front of me and the driver’s door opened and out stepped the dealer. Now there’s a snake, I thought. I couldn’t believe Tammy would have him, of all people, pick me up. He was dressed like a WWE wrestler and I a hippie. He was clean cut. I had long hair and was scruffy. He was uptight. I was chill. He was troubled. I was at peace. He was dark. I was light. We were complete opposites. He walked quickly up to me as if he was going to attack or assault me. Instead, he extended his hand in a peaceful gesture. I looked at his hand, knowing who he was and how he was influencing Tammy. Reluctantly I shook his hand. He looked at Tammy and laughed. He told her,

“Why don’t you get in the back and let your boy sit up front?” Although I said, “No, that’s okay,” she entered the car anyway. So I sat in the seat and buckled up. “So Tammy tells me you’re a pretty rad drummer. That’s cool. I always wanted to play the guitar but never learned. But I bet I could play one if I had one. Do you have one?” the pusher posed interest. “No. I play drums and piano,” I replied, looking out the window. “I bet I could play the drums. Looks pretty easy to me,” he boasted. We sat and listened to Mr. Fantastic brag about all he could do. That was if he only had the things required to make an attempt. We arrived at Tammy’s house, where she and I got out. The dealer looked at me and said, “Don’t steal my girl now.” Then he looked at Tammy. “And you better what I told you.” She dropped her head away from his glare. He backed out of the driveway, and as soon as he turned the corner out of sight, Tammy collapsed into my arms and started crying. She said over and over that she was sorry in between sobs. I held her and assured her everything was okay and that everything was going to be okay. She told me that the belligerent boaster had threatened her with a knife to her throat and made her call me to find out where I was. She said he told her he was going to kill me and couldn’t believe when he shook my hand. She had anticipated a clash and collision of two forces of different natures. She said, “It was like good and evil shaking hands. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“When a man’s ways please the Lord, He maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him.” (Proverbs 16:7)

Tammy made her choice that day whom she wanted to give her heart to, God, for

getting her out of a horrendous situation; saving her life time and time again, and delivering her from the demons of drugs, depression, and death; and giving her grace, mercy, forgiveness, peace, comion, and love. A few years later, she did give her heart to me before God—to have and to hold, for better or worse, when rich and when poor, in sickness and good health till death do us part. Amen. So many naysayers from the beginning of our courtship said it would never work out. So many tried to discourage and damage the union. It has taken all my ability and a lot of prayer and help from the Holy Spirit and the angels watching over us that we stand together in one accord, one faith, one baptism, one work, and looking unto One Jesus Christ, the Author and Finisher of our faith. “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”

Daddy and Mama experiencing the fullness of joy, peace, and love of God as they served Him wholeheartedly and walked in victory, covered by the blood of the Son of God (January 26, 1989).

Tammy, Gaige, and I were getting armored up to fight the good fight of faith. As I was trained in the way I should go, we began with Gaige and then Trinity and Jayden to the faith along to our children.

Lucifer, as described in Revelation 12. There’s a snake! He is under our feet in Jesus’s name. All power in heaven and earth belongs to Christ. The devil is defeated. We overcome by the blood of the Lamb. “And the gates of hell shall not prevail against us!”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Stoke the Fire

“Therefore I remind you to stir up the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” —2 Timothy 1:6–7

In December of 2008, I was working on a struggling dairy farm in East Texas. We survived paycheck to paycheck, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Sometimes we would run short before the next check would arrive. Tammy has a gift to look Famine in the face and find enough food in the cupboard to feed the family a feast. Like magic, she miraculously makes meals with nothing much. Some readers may understand the significance of rationing to stretch small and simple supplies. My helpmate can take a sack of potatoes and turn them into several different delicious dishes—French fries, mashed potatoes (the way I like ’em, with lumps), scallops, potato soup, potatoes au gratin, hash browns, potato casserole, and potatoes O’Bryan (misspelled on purpose). She can do the same with beans and pasta, really whatever she has. I believe she studied Jesus’s miracle of feeding five thousand with five loaves and two fishes to do what she does in the kitchen. Our plates are always full of food prepared in love, with plenty leftover. Deer Valley Dairy had become a daily dreaded Drudgery. Upon waking up, I would already knew what waited when walking out the door. It took mental convincing to meet the many challenges on the 500-acre operation with 2,500 milk cows. With only five full-time farmhands, it was, most days, more work than we could manage. As a matter of fact, at any moment, an otherwise calm, cool, and collected member could convert into a maniacal man. Many times, that man was me. When I first started working on the dairy, it was obvious the 500 acres was in a bad state of neglect. The 80 paddocks separated by electric fences were in pitiful shape. The herd every morning would be, instead of the paddock they were put in the evening before, all over the place. What should take thirty minutes to move the Holstein and Jersey cows to the milk lanes would take more than an hour. Fence repair was an impossible task to keep up with in light of all the

many other problems to address on a daily basis. Flat tires on tractors, hoof care, milking cows, mixing and distributing feed twice a day, calving, bottle feeding, vaccinations, dehorning, ear tags, plowing paddocks, fertilizing and planting turnips, snow peas, corn, and soy beans, tethering and bailing hay, cleaning the dairy parlor after milking, on and on—it was never-ending Frustration and Aggravation. I had twelve-hour days, sometimes three weeks straight without a day off. We would work until our body wouldn’t let us work anymore. I would come home every evening filthy and stinking. I probably smelled like poo, but it was just my dairy air. There was a cloud around me like the cartoon Peanuts’s Pig-Pen. But I felt more like Charlie Brown, always getting the football snatched away in midkick, landing on my back after cutting a flip. Nothing ever seemed to be going his way. His mantra was “Good grief!” What an oxymoron that phrase is. There is nothing good about Grief. Sometimes, however, when I get stirred up in times of deep devotion, I get to dancin’ like Snoopy. And like good old Charlie Brown had Lucy to go to for advice, we have a “Doctor,” Who is always “In” for counsel and comfort. But my favorite Peanuts character is Linus. He is the one that brings the Word of God to the whole squad. The young evangelist already has memorized scripture, ready to share it in season and out of season. A seed sewer, a light bearer, a fisher of men, Schroeder is pretty cool too. He probably grows up to be an awesome worship leader. I have been a big fan of the Peanuts cartoon as long as I can . I have spent so many Saturday mornings spent with Snoopy. In 1981, when I was seven, watching TV with my Mama, a paid ment pushed the new publication The Doctor Is In by Maurice Berquist, with illustrations by Charles M. Shulz. The man’s voice on the commercial said, “This Warner Press Hardcover with 179 pages and illustrated with many helpful cartoons from Charles M. Schulz and the Peanuts gang. The good news is…you have an open appointment! This could be the most helpful book for actually living your life you’ll ever read! The author, Berquist, has written this book-letter to Charlie Brown and all the Charlie Browns of the world. He shares with each reader the fact that God, the Doctor, is in. Every problem we have can be taken to Him on an open appointment. He’s always there.” As “the number to call for your copy” was put on the screen, I emphatically

explained to my mother how I had to have that book. As my parents were always encouraging our gifts, talents, and interests—as long as they were with good intentions—Mama jotted the number down and, to my delight, went to the phone and dialed the number. What an inspiring way to get the message of the gospel into the lives of the unchurched children than through a comic strip in the daily newspaper and a cartoon on TV, even primetime holiday specials with scripture quoted by Sir Linus van Pelt? So there I would be, with no thanksgiving in my heart, sitting spiritually outside the gates. I was a prodigal “Pig-Pen” wallowing in self-pity, stinkin’ up the whole place. A lack of joy leads to a lack of strength. Physically worn out from the long days at work, my patience waned at home. I would snap at the kids sharply over the smallest of things. Fathers are instructed to discipline not as dictators but in gentleness and kindness. “Provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and onition of the Lord.” We are to be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” If I could only get to grow the fruit of self-control. Too many times, had Temper had tarnished my testimony. “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” At this point in time, Gaige was twelve, Trinity was seven, and Jayden had just turned four on November 30. I get bombarded with back-to-back birthdays every year, beginning with Trinitys on October 23. Tammy’s is next on November 6, then Jayden’s on the 30th, which leaves less than a month to come up with the costs to cover Christmas for them all. Years past, depending on the success of the stables or fortunes of the farms that I worked on, the kids had come to expect a large number of wrapped gifts under the tree, especially if I happened to be working on a show horse farm for the season. I would get Christmas cards with no less than 100 dollars in each from the owners of horses I handled, not to mention the generous bonus that came once a year, depending on contribution. These timely tips and bonuses had helped out hugely to purchase plenty of presents. Each of our children would always have at least seven gifts wrapped, tagged, bowed, and stacked neatly under the decorated and lit Christmas tree. I would have two or three little surprises hidden among the kids’ presents for Tammy. Normally, by this time, most of the gifts had been bought, wrapped, and brought to the tree. Stocking stuffers would be secretly hidden away waiting for Christmas Eve. Not

this year. Gaige, being the elder of our three gifts from God, was more intuitive than the other two at his age. What with my constant complaints and growing grumpiness and seeing no normal pile of presents tending the tree with Christmas only three weeks away, Gaige gently approached me and asked, “Dad, is everything going to be okay?” The familiar voice, as if in the room, without hesitation spoke a specific scripture. I heard him say, “Psalm 107.” So I grabbed a Bible and read:

“Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom He has redeemed from the hand of the enemy, And gathered out of the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south. They wandered in the wilderness in a desolate way; They found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in them. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them out of their distresses. And He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city for a dwelling place. Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness. Those who sat in darkness and in the shadow of death, bound in affliction and irons—because they rebelled against the words of God, and despised the counsel of the Most High, therefore He brought down their heart with labor; they fell down, and there was none to help; then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He saved them out of their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and broke their chains in pieces. Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He has broken the gates of bronze, and cut the bars of iron in two. Fools, because of their transgression, and because of their iniquities, were afflicted. Their soul abhorred all manner of food, and they drew near to the gates of death. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He saved them out of their distresses. He sent His Word and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! Let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare His works with rejoicing. Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters, they see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the

deep. For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea. They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths; their soul melts because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits’ end. Then they cry out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses. He calms the storm, so that its waves are still. Then they are glad because they are quiet; so He guides them to their desired haven. Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! Let them exalt Him also in the assembly of the people, and praise Him in the company of the elders. He turns rivers into a wilderness, and the water springs into dry ground; a fruitful land into barrenness, for the wickedness of those who dwell in it. He turns a wilderness into pools of water, and dry land into water springs. There He makes the hungry dwell, that they may establish a city for a dwelling place, and sow fields and plant vineyards, that they may yield a fruitful harvest. He also blesses them, and they multiply greatly; and He does not let their cattle decrease. When they are diminished and brought low through oppression, affliction, and sorrow, He pours contempt on princes, and causes them to wander in the wilderness where there is no way; yet He sets the poor on high, far from affliction, and makes their families like a flock. The righteous see it and rejoice, and all iniquity stops its mouth. Whoever is wise will observe these things, and they will understand the loving kindness of the Lord.”

I pointed out how all the people in the age, no matter what their circumstances or situations were, when they called out to God, He delivered them out of their distress. I told my son that God is the same today as He was then and He will do the same for us if we trust in Him. I asked Gaige, “Hasn’t God always protected us and provided all our needs?” He nodded yes. I apologized to him for the bad attitude and behavior he had seen in me due to a seemingly overly stressed situation. I asked him if he wanted to pray with me and let God know our requests. He said, “Yes.” And we took hands and bowed our heads. I prayed and asked God for forgiveness for not leading in love at times and asked for more patience and a

gentle spirit. I gave Him thanks for His goodness and grace and provision and peace. And I asked that He would bless the home with joy in anticipation of the celebration of the birth of Christ. Gaige prayed that God would “watch over our home and make everybody happy so we have a good Christmas.” No sooner had we both said “In Jesus’s name, amen” than we heard someone knock at the front door. We walked down the hallway and opened the door to see a fireman standing there and a fire truck parked in the street in front of our house. I wondered where the fire was. Before I could ask, he held up a huge box with both hands. Handing me the heavy box, he said, “We heard you could use this.” Now to this day, I do not know who told whom that we needed anything at all, but Gaige had asked for assurance and received it in the twinkling of an eye. When the fire truck had sounded its horn and pulled away, we looked inside the box to find all the fixin’s for a family Christmas feast—a huge ham, a thick turkey, an apple, and a cherry pie, corn on the cob, carrots, green beans, macaroni and cheese, dressing, and cranberry sauce. They somehow knew we had plenty of potatoes. Gaige enthusiastically explained to his mother what had happened when she got home from cleaning a house. She had barely begun a business called Agape Cleaning Service and had been blessed with a few recent recommendations from content clients. The extra money she was earning ensured the kids would get their gifts and something in each stocking. Gaige didn’t know everything going on behind the scenes. Neither did we. Ever. However in times of our uncertainty, we can always be certain of God. When we come to the point in our faith where we know, like Paul, “whom we have believed in and are persuaded that He is able to keep those things we’ve committed unto Him until the day of His return.” We don’t worry where anything will come from, for we know it will come from God. God is always working, constantly, continually, and completely. He doesn’t sleep or slumber or cut corners. He is patient, proving, and perfect. Gaige and I witnessed the Word as living and powerful together that day in December. We had asked and received. We had found more than initially sought.

And when we had knocked at the heart of God, he responded with a knock at our front door from the messenger sent for that moment. There was a stirring of gifts, a stoking of the fire of faith by none other than a fireman.

A fireman showed up to stoke the fire of faith.

Bryan, Jayden, and Charlie Brown 2016

The Doctor Is In by Maurice Berquist. Illustrated by Charles M. Shulz. Copyright 1981.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Final Fight

“The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.” —Exodus 14:14

I cannot count how many times those that have been revealed and those still my Savior’s secret, that God has graciously saved my life here on earth and sealed my life in heaven for eternity. I praise His Holy Name to this very day because of that amazing grace. In every attempt of the adversary all my life to do me harm, the Mighty God turned all things around for my good. I did not see what He was doing behind the scene unseen. Then one day He touched my eyes and the scales fell off so I could see clearly. As the events relayed in this book were replayed in my mind, I began to see that God’s hand has held me securely each and every step of the way in my wonderful journey with Jesus. Even when I wasn’t walking with Him, He was there all the time, waiting patiently for me, wooing me tenderly with His still, a small voice that I could only hear when I became still. He will respond when we call out to Him. His answer to our prayers come in His perfect time. We must be patient many times, in faith, while waiting for expected results. “Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen.” Faith is also part of the armor that shields us from doubt while we wait.

“The next day as they (the disciples) were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, He went to find out if it had any fruit. When He reached it, He found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then He said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And His disciples heard Him say it. On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as He taught them, He said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’?

But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’ The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill Him, for they feared Him, because the whole crowd was amazed at His teaching. When evening came, Jesus and his disciples went out of the city. In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots. Peter ed and said to Jesus, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree You cursed has withered!” “Have faith in God,” Jesus answered. “Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

A few factors of fighting fervently in faith versus fighting in futility in the flesh are found in these verses. Notice that Jesus expected figs when it was not the season for figs. We are to be ready at all times. The bridegroom could come for His bride at any moment. We are also expected to “preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction.” “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” for in this day and age, the spirit of Offense is hard to overcome. It runs with Division and Delusion and causing Chaos wherever it can. Did Christ ever say Christians must contend to the constant contradictions to the Holy instructions of the Bible? Are we supposed to tolerate the twisted lies of hate and compromise the compelling love of our faith? We are called to correct in love and “let our conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that we may know how to answer everyone.” Notice also that there was no immediate evidence of change in the fig tree when Jesus initially spoke to it. However, He spoke to the tree so that His disciples heard him to prove a point the next day. Before we can clearly see the deep things of God, we must clean the temple out. Jesus cleared the temple in Jerusalem from the stealing, lying, cheating, and money-changers’ tables. Forgiveness must first have its wonderful work. As Jesus taught the disciples to pray, we today pray, “Our Father Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.” Last, I would like to point out from this age Jesus’s reply to the disciples’ response to the withered tree. Jesus says, “Have faith in God.” Then He says two more times, “Believe when asking and do not doubt.” He concludes this concourse with “When you stand praying, forgive so we may be forgiven” as He prayed in the model prayer. This is how we fight the final fight. We understand the battle belongs to the Lord. We pray the armor on. We watch to warn others when we see the enemy approach. We intercede as priests and lead as kings, standing, and having done all, stand. The war waging all around us is being fought by angels of the Almighty God against the forces of the fallen. We overcome by the Word of our testimony and the blood of the Lamb! All we are required to do is watch, pray, and stand. Stand in faith in an Everlasting Father, abiding in the Prince of Peace.

“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High God shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and without partiality; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord. A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.”

Yes, there will be times when we wrestle with Doubt and Disbelief. We must guard our mouth and tame our tongue. The power of life and death dwell in the tongue. We can pour poison from the pits of hell onto ourselves and others with our words, or we can speak rivers of living water freely and abundantly giving

grace, love, and life—redeeming, renewing, refreshing, and reviving words; planting, watering, nurturing, and encouraging seeds to bud, blossom, and bear fruit like the rod of Aaron. Just speak faith. Never fear. Speak things that aren’t as though they were. Though not seen, keep speaking things hoped for. Walk by faith and not by sight. Don’t forfeit your reward before you receive it. We are given the ability and the power to trap those thoughts before they reach the tongue.

“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

When we come to the place of faith in our walk with the Lord in the light of His Word, there is a freedom. It is more than a feeling; it’s a place where we receive healing and every good Word and work from God. “For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith: as it is written, The just shall live by faith.” This is faith in the name of Jesus and the work He has already finished. The devil is defeated. Christ is the Champion. The battle is over, and the victory is won! “And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.” Then He commissioned them. “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.” This commission is ours as His disciple’s on earth today. Yes, we are sent out “as sheep among wolves, therefore we must be wise as serpents, yet, harmless as doves.” We have promise, power, provision, and protection through His Providence.

“Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.”

“So shall they fear the name of the Lord from the west, and His glory from the rising of the sun. When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him.”

By January 2019, we were living comfortably in Lancaster, South Carolina. I was a close fifteen minutes to my Grandma and Grandpa Steele’s house. I was content with my country home located amidst the tall pine trees. We had been in Lancaster for a fast-paced frenzy of a year. Upon arriving at the sturdily built 1940s two-story cabin-style home with a large front porch and back deck nestled in the dense pine and spruce trees, Tammy used her decorating skills and speedily made the house our home. In the short season we were there, I was blessed immensely and was also able to bless different family at muchneeded times in their lives. God had strategically moved me home when He did for His purposes more than I even know. I am sure of many reasons, though. In the year we were there, my parents sold their house they had lived in most of my sister Charity’s life. I was there with my family of five to help them move things down from the attic and out of the shed. Actually, Daddy and Mama had put the down payment on a nice travel trailer with the amenities for comfortable living. Daddy had retired from pastoring, and they were ready to travel. My parents had divided their beautiful belongings between myself, Joshua, and Charity. Many of these precious items were from Grandma and Grandpa Stewart’s home and from Grandma and Grandpa Steele’s. Items from my earliest memory are now in my home. It was the collection of their nearly fifty years of life in love together. I am so blessed to have my portion of precious memories. There were three moves we were able to help with. We moved furniture and boxes of seasonal decorations, framed family pictures, and shoeboxes of photos separated by special events and celebrated times of all our childhoods. There were black and white photos of Granny and Grandpa Gardner and Nanny and Grandpa Brawley and Grandma and Grandpa Stewart and Steele when they were younger, Mama and Daddy’s pictures through the years. These were all moved across town to our house and theirs grew emptier.

Up until this year, my Dad would have had no problem getting the job done himself with Mama’s help, but he had torn his bicep and could not pick up anything with weight without pain. I was a mighty mouse right on time. It felt good to be the one to say, “Here I come to save the day!” The firstborn had shown up to earn his birthright. We moved Mama and Daddy’s living room set to my grandparents’ and exchanged their old, worn furniture with the leather reclining set from my parents’ house. I was honored to get my grandparents’ sofa, loveseat, and recliner. In fact, I have typed most of this book sitting in Grandma Steele’s recliner. And the third move was for my sister. Charity Rebekah endured more pain in a year’s time than anyone should have to go through in a lifetime. She was in a time of deep Depression and Grief after losing a child to miscarriage, and shortly after, her husband left her. We came to find out after he left how abusive he had been to her all along. Tammy and I and the kids had been at the wedding with the whole family. We had been at Mama and Daddy’s house when the announcement was given of the expected child. We all celebrated together the wonderful news. During this time, Tammy was offered the opportunity to take over a cafe she had been working at as a cook. She came home so excited as she expressed her eagerness to take over as owner of a restaurant. This was her lifetime dream. The two of us sat on the bed all night, taking notes as the ideas flooded for what would become Nostalgic Cafe. We came up with fifteen legends from the past and researched their favorite meals, breakfast, lunch, and dinner and devised a menu according to the icons’ likings, even a shake menu for each and a Little Rascal’s menu for the kids. The restaurant had been a steakhouse and was drab with two-toned brown walls with framed art of no rhyme or reason and was split into two sections. One section had diner booths, and the other had round, rectangle, and square tables surrounded with folding chairs. Before opening, we had to clean, paint, and remodel the entire restaurant. But our heart and ion pulled it off. We painted the diner section pink with a sea foam green trim. While the colors were coming together, it reminded me of a classic ’57 Chevy. When I had first met Tammy, it was obvious she was an Elvis fan, so I began buying her Elvis dolls and ceramic plates for Christmas, anniversary, and birthday presents. And the numerous times we have traveled

together to Graceland and left with coffee mugs and gift cards, glasses, signs and other souvenirs, she has quite the collection. And when I saw how much she loves Lucy, here came the dolls and DVDs, signs and pictures. So after over twenty years of collecting Elvis, Lucy, and Marilyn memorabilia, we had the makings for Nostalgic Cafe. The larger dining room, we painted red with black trim. We strung lighting, hung the artwork that we already had, and paid for additional framed posters of our menu legends, which were Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, Fred and Ethel Mertz, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Marlon Brando, John Wayne, James Stewart, Judy Garland, Fred Sanford, Andy Griffith, and Don Knotts. The Little Rascal’s menu had Shirley Temple, Dennis the Menace, Opie Taylor, Charlie Brown, and Lucy van Pelt. The pink diner was the Lucy Room, decked out with Tammy’s framed Lucy poster’s and aluminum signs, her dolls on shelves we had put out of reach but on good display. The thirty-two-inch TV played I Love Lucy DVDs from her collection at all times. The red and black room had posters of the rest of the menu legends, including lots of Elvis Presley pictures and posters, dolls, along with Marilyn Monroe, John Wayne, Judy Garland, so forth and so on. A sixty-two-inch TV played DVDs we had bought, starring each of our menu’s actors and entertainers. Elvis got more requests since he was the mostly featured presence in the room. On our grand opening, we had an Elvis impersonator put on a show for the goodsized crowd that showed up to us. Tammy dressed up in her Lucy in the chocolate factory costume. We had a blast. I loved seeing Tammy, all smiles, having the time of her life. We made lots of new friends while running the restaurant. The kids made me proud with how hard they worked and how hospitable they were to all the guests and entertaining to the children with coloring books and games. Many church groups called for reservations, and Tammy, Gaige, Trinity and I ensured everything was ready to rock ’n’ roll. I will never forget the time when the senior group and pastor of one of the local churches came in for lunch. An Elvis DVD was playing on the big screen as they ordered their Andy Griffith and Lucy Ricardo lunches. The pastor had a John Wayne. Tammy and I were enjoying the group’s laughter as they ate and looked around at the decorations and the DVD. At one point in the concert, Elvis had the quartet sing the song “Sweet, Sweet Spirit.” The entire three tables of seniors and elders fell silent as each listened to the men singing. Then as if on cue, every

one of them ed in when the chorus repeated, “There’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord. There are sweet expressions on each face and I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord. Sweet Holy Spirit, Sweet Heavenly dove, stay right here with us filling us with Your love. And for these blessings, we lift our voice in praise. Without a doubt, we’ll know that we have been revived when we shall leave this place.” Tammy and I had looked at each other and ed in singing with them. It was a beautiful moment we all shared. We were able to employ my sister as a waitress and her husband as cook and dishwasher. He did good for a few days and then called out. He came back and worked a day and then called out. This was his work ethic, and I let him work when he wanted because my sister needed his . I tried to talk some sense into the young man and encouraged him to take care of his responsibility to my sister, whom he married and vowed to do so. My sister and I grew a lot closer in this time. I was someone she could turn to at any time, and I had made her promise me she would get ahold of me if she needed me no matter the time or the situation. We had already dealt with Depression with our own daughter and understood the serious dangers of it if not dealt with properly. I lifted her up and encouraged her with the strongest power on earth straight from heaven, God’s Word. In it we find the answer to all of life’s difficulties and challenges. Charity is still healing. When she sings, she sounds like our Mother, who always sounded to me like an angel. I tell my sister when she feels down and out, she can just sing, “There is power in the name of Jesus.” So the third move we were able to assist was moving my kid sister’s belongings into a storage unit for a season. We were able to host Thanksgiving in our home now, full of familiar surroundings from all the family. Tammy had prepared a feast with all the fixin’s. We laughed as Daddy and Grandpa took turns playing the virtual reality games. We ate until we couldn’t eat any more and cheered my Dad’s favorite team, the Dallas Cowboys, on as they were victorious over the Washington Redskins 31–26. All in all, it was a wonderful Thanksgiving day with family. Since that day, my grandmother’s sister, Aunt Sarah, who sat with us as we ed our loved ones in heaven, has ed their side, leaving her sickness and sadness forever behind her. We must love them while we can. Tammy had the house and front porch beautifully decorated for Christmas, and we had, as every year, precious moments with the children and family

that pop up to surprisingly spread Christmas cheer. What a lovely time of year. I am glad to have been there with and for my loved ones. As we entered a new year, the winds of change started to blow. After a few conversations over the phone, I accepted a job offer at a ministry for troubled teenagers. The job details would have me leading the equestrian program for both the boys and girls at different times during the day with their designated duties. The horses owned by the ministry were twelve Clydesdales and two highstrung sires. I would also have the opportunity to work with the young singers in the choir. I felt that this was the answer to years of asking God to allow me to be used by Him in any facet He saw fit. When I had accepted the call to ministry at the Dawson McAllister youth conference when I was ten, I had envisioned leading thousands of teenagers, like we had witnessed in the coliseum, to worship in one accord. But this home housed at that time twelve young men and fourteen young ladies—juvenile delinquents in trouble with the law, unwanted by their parents, expelled from school, and discharged onto the streets. This was a place of second chance that taught Christian truth to troubled teens. At least, that was what the website stated and what the main man in charge had said over the phone when he offered to pay for our move to where the campus was located. I would not only be working in the horse program and choir, but I would fill a needed spot as boy’s dorm counselor and overseer. As we had three in-depth and detailed conversations over the phone, a position for Tammy to work in the kitchen as chef was a positive incentive, and again we felt this was the door opening to be involved in long-term ministry. We loaded all our possessions into a U-Haul truck, stopped by my grandparents and said our goodbyes with salty tears running down our cheeks. Then we hit the road headed to New York. In my wildest imaginations, you would never have found me in New York, yet here we were, going where guided. When we arrived our destination in Lakemont, New York, to my pleasant surprise, we were surrounded by snow-covered mountains, waterfalls, and large lakes. The campus had stables, a football field, main office building, kitchen and dining hall, worship room with instruments and pews, boys’ dorm, girls’ dorm, and staff houses. It was situated on 200 acres overlooking Seneca Lake, the deepest of the twelve “finger lakes” in upstate New York. My Southern mind had expected big city and heavy traffic as far as the eye could see, but I was blown away at the beauty we were beholding.

We all sat in the office of the head honcho, and I looked around at the framed pictures of him and President George W. Bush, several certificates on the wall behind his desk, framed pictures of teenagers in past programs singing in a large choir, pictures of Clydesdales and Friesians painted for a parade. We sat and listened, and to me, he came across as a braggadocio, taking much of the glory and giving God little. As we could only observe the first few days, Tammy and I both discerned disturbing things. As the teenagers would come in to the dining hall for breakfast, girls first, we noticed the Anger on some faces and the tears of Depression and Sadness on others. Where was the joy and freedom from bondage that comes from being close to Christ? There was no evidence of it on the expressions of these obviously hurting and heartbroken hostages. There was no reverence given when the self-proclaimed pastor walked in. Rather, there were looks of Fear, Panic, and Shame on the faces of the youth. Some would lower their heads and look at the floor. As we would serve the dishes my wife had lovingly prepared, some were not allowed to get second helpings or dessert if they were on a certain “level” maintained by behavior. After a few days of learning the program rules, it was apparent that the goal of staff was to ensure the kids stayed on a level of discipline to cut off communication with the outside world. If they did achieve the highest level, by making no mistakes and breaking no rules, they could get to make a phone call if approved by the staff member on duty. Fifteen minutes on the internet were supervised. If a teenager talked back to a staff member, they would be openly rebuked in front of everyone in morning chapel and then punished by having to carry wood back and forth in front of the office building, where the students also went to school. This was ridiculing to whoever was the wood carrier. And it was an eight-hour ordeal. I was appointed the counselor for the boys’ dorm and, for two months, spent time with a group of young men yearning for someone to love them like Jesus. Tammy and I would go to the store and buy little gifts. For the girls, we got them scented lotions and shampoos, facial masks, chocolates. We would get deodorant, toothpaste, laundry soap, and candy for the boys. The excitement and gratitude shown by each of them made us tear up. Such small and simple things we so often took for granted meant so much to that group of kids.

One of the boys, named Dante, came up to me crying and said, “Nobody’s just bought me something for no reason before.” About a week later, after hearing the leader of this ministry bash the kids mentally, reading ages and pouring condemnation from the pulpit, and using fear to control them with brain-washing repetition, I spoke to a staff member I thought I could trust. I was careful with what I said and only questioned the memory verse that the kids were expected to memorize to achieve the level needed to call a loved one. I had over the past week talked with each boy in the dorm one-on-one. I had written a list of ten questions, and I asked each young man what their interest in art, music, sports, and any other talent they might have. I gave them a piece of paper and a pen, and they each put their names and their answers to my questions. The last question I asked was if they had ever invited Jesus into their heart. Six of the twelve boys answered no. I told the staffer that six of the boys weren’t even saved and that they were expected to memorize something they didn’t even understand. The age to be memorized in King James version was Romans 7:14–25:

“For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin. For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man: But I see another law in my , warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my . O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God; but with the flesh the law of sin.”

Now that’s a mouthful and a lot to chew on. I so totally understand and identify

with what Paul is saying. I also have walked with the Lord for nearly forty years now, and it took a long time before I could. This age, especially in old English, can be challenging to a child Christian. I asked the staff member why couldn’t the memory verse be John 3:16? I said, “Man, that’s like tossing a turkey leg to a toothless baby that needs a bottle.” That night, after devotion, Dante went outside. This was against the rules since it was after 9:00 p.m. and everyone was supposed to be getting ready for bed and not allowed outside the dorm building. After searching for about twenty minutes, I found him sitting outside by the stairs leading to the boiler room. He was crying and said he had no purpose and was just ready to end it all. Nobody loved him, he said. Everybody here had told him he would never amount to anything, and no one took his cries for help seriously, so he was ready to show them all. I said, “Yeah, you would show them all, but there would never be any coming back. You will instantly regret such a decision. Instead of showing them all you can end it all, why don’t you prove them all wrong and show them what you can do? I heard you playing the guitar in your room. That sounded good. Did you write what you were playing?” He softened and asked, “You heard me?” I said, “Yeah, I did, and you have a gift, Dante, that you have been blessed with that makes you different from everybody else in the world.” His ears were opened to hear how wonderful Jesus could be if he would just let Him in. We stood out in the snow for some time, and he bowed his head and accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior under the twinkling stars. I saw the tears running down his face and a smile that I had not seen from him before that moment. He said he felt new. I told him he was. Back inside the dorm, I told him to write the day’s date in his Bible and write, “Today I asked Jesus into my heart. Today I became new. I will seek the Lord every day and use my gifts to honor Him.” I went into the dorm office after turning the hall light off and yelling “Good night, fellas!” down the hall. Every young man responded, “Good night, Mr. Stewart.”

I smiled at their respect. “That’s my dad’s name. If the rule says call me mister, then Mr. Bryan will do.” “Good night, Mr. Bryan” came their response. Dante peeked his head in the doorway, and I motioned for him to enter. He brought his Bible to me and showed me his written statement of faith. I patted him on the shoulder and told him he would always that day as his second birthday. The next morning, as I was leading the boys to breakfast, I saw the staff member I had spoken to about the age the day prior walk from the office building to his car and then drive to the dorm parking lot and go inside. Ten seconds later, I received a text that the pastor wanted to see me in his office immediately. I texted back that I was watching the boys in the kitchen and needed someone to take my post. Moments later, the same staffer showed up and said one word to me, “Brutal.” I sat in the office and listened in Dismay as I was rebuked for breaking “so many rules last night” as the man in charge read the writings from the “Acc of the brethren.” He read, “First rule broken by Bryan Stewart: complaining to another staff member about rules established by head counselor. Second rule broken by Bryan Stewart: noncompliance to rules concerning discipline by not writing an overnight report that Dante left the dorm building after curfew hours. Third rule broken by Bryan Stewart: noncompliance to rules concerning physical with any teenager.” I was aware of all the cameras everywhere and was glad that they were there in the event of false accusations. I also knew the man I had spoken with and other staff constantly kept a close eye on the surveillance monitors. I guess my patting Dante on the arm was an atrocity. In fact, all I had seen and heard from the entire staff was criticism, judgment, condemnation, harsh and mean correction as if they were dealing with incarcerated inmates instead of lost and lonely troubled teens. Where was the comion and Christlike love? Where was God’s grace being exhibited? Where was kindness being shown? I sat there with a lot of unspoken questions, I wondered if he was going to make me carry a log around in front of the office for all to see. He then shocked me all the more when he started

complaining about my children—how they were nowhere near what he expected from a staff member’s kids. Mainly it was because my daughter had a nose ring, which she always removed when entering the facility. She also had her hair short on the sides and a little longer on top, not an uncommon hairdo among today’s youth. However, the young ladies were required to keep their hair long at the village. He then said, “We can’t tell if your daughter is a boy or girl, and it is confusing to some of the students here.” He had gone too far, saying anything critical at all about my children. I wanted to tell him to take the two-by-four out of his own eye before he tried to take a small speck from anybody else’s eyes. But I asked, “So where does that put us?” He said, “We are just going to end this relationship right now. I will have a check cut out for you for this week’s work and wish you the best.” We were staying in a house temporarily under agreement for two more months, and it would become a bed and breakfast and was already reserved at the end of the two-month contract. You can imagine how we felt. Gaige asked, “How can you even still have faith after getting treated like that by a preacher?” I told him, “I don’t have faith in man, preacher or not. I have faith in God, Who has never let us down. And you know that as well as I do, son.” What I did know and what mattered the most to me in that moment was that Dante had been snatched away from death, delivered, and made a new man.

“And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ: for the acc of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.”

I began applying to job postings nearby. All the towns “nearby” were at least a

twenty-minute drive. One morning, while Tammy and I were having our coffee and devotion, I opened Our Daily Bread to the day’s reading. The scripture reference was Psalm 23. I instantly heard a harp playing a beautiful melody and quickly made my way upstairs to where my phone was. I started singing the words of the psalmist to the melody the harp played. As I later sat at the keyboard, finding the chords, it is the richest of all the songs I have heard over the years. Little did I know it was preparing me for what I would face in the weeks to come. If having two months to find new jobs and an affordable place to rent with nothing but wineries around in the dead of winter wasn’t Stress enough, I fell ill to an Infirmity that I was certain was going to send me on to glory. I felt like a curse had come upon me or perhaps I had been poisoned. As I lay in a bed of agony and utmost misery, I even asked God to just take me home. It was too much for me to bear. I felt like I was being twisted and squeezed like you would do to wring water out of a wet towel. In two weeks’ time, I went from a thirtyeight-inch waist to twenty-seven. I was so thirsty all the time. My thirst could not be quenched. My tongue would dry up as soon as I swallowed water. My lips were chapped, and the corners of my mouth caked up with dryness. My glands producing saliva seemed to have stopped functioning. My muscles twitched and cramped up. I had to stagger to the bathroom so many times because of the constant need to drink something. I was weaker than I had ever been and had become bony as my muscular system seemed to be under attack as well. I had started, by compulsion, to drink lemon water and honey and all-natural, sugar-free juices, and I ate fruit when I ed the good effects I had experienced years ago in Nashville on the fortifying fruit fast. Every time I had a glass of grape juice, I would Jesus’s blood that flowed for me and have a moment of communion with Him. I could feel the healing in my body as the juice went down. Although I had dropped an alarming amount of weight within weeks, I was no longer nauseous and was starting to regain my appetite. As I was playing the piano in prayer one morning, the Lord blessed me with another song: “Every Breath.” I had walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and the song of thanksgiving broke forth from my soul. While rejoicing with the new songs, I received a response from a job posting I had applied to; they were requesting an interview. It was at a beautiful hotel in a quaint little village about twenty minutes away called Watkins Glen. The Harbor Hotel was located at the southern tip of Seneca Lake. One side faced the scenic

lake lying between two mountain ranges, and the other side was the village view. I found my best dress-up clothes that didn’t look bulky and baggy on me and had an interesting interview with the assistant general manager of the exquisite Harbor Hotel. The upbeat and pleasant manager, Ms. Mary Diesel, laughed at my Southern accent and jovialness many times throughout the tour of the different room types. The iral suite’s patio on the fourth floor had the best view overlooking the lake and the sailboats docked below. This was by far the most elaborate and expensive hotel with restaurant called the Blue Pointe Grille I had ever interviewed for employment. But my experience with night audit was what they were in desperate need of, and I was in desperate need of the job. As the next few days went by in prayer, leaning on the Lord for strength and healing, my saliva started to wet my tongue once again, and my chapped lips became moist once more. The Lord blessed me with the third song of that week the next morning: “Each Day With You.” It is a message to my children in retrospect. After capturing a recording of the song on my cell phone, it rang with a call from the Harbor Hotel. It was the manager, Mary, who was calling to offer me a job as night auditor/security. After I excitedly answered “Yes, ma’am!” she giggled like Betty Rubble and asked what size dress shirt and pants I wore. She took my new guessed measurements and said she would order me two dress shirts and two dress pants and told me there was a closet by the front desk that had ample jackets I could go through to find one that would fit. She welcomed me aboard and asked if I could come in Friday evening for training. Glory to God! I thoroughly enjoyed from the first night everyone on staff that I worked with. The lady that trained me on the night audit proceedings was a Christian and had actually worked at the unusually run teen home. During the first few nights of training, Michelle told me of the Fear that had followed her from the time she quit working for the wolf in sheep’s clothing. She said he told her that everyone who had left the ministry without his authority had died or was sick with Cancer. I could tell she was still upset by the way she described certain disturbing things she had seen and heard over the years of being his secretary. She was asked to tell lies for him time and time again and was always scared to tell him no for Fear of chastisement. The night shift started at 11:00 p.m. and ended at 7:00 a.m. I preferred the security side of the shift duties. There would always be two on staff at the front

desk. One would perform the printing and putting together piles of papers for the various positions in the hotel from general manager to hostess. The other would walk the grounds, patio, banquet halls, indoor pool, fitness room, and all floors several times throughout the night. The town would be overrun at times with tourists from all over the world to drink from the fifty-six wineries around Seneca Lake to walk the trails of the waterfalls at Watkins Glen State Park and the Watkins Glen International Speedway. The hotel would sell out for every race weekend and the various car clubs, bringing in parking lots packed with Porsches, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Corvettes, Camaros, El Caminos, Mustangs, Miatas, and Maseratis. I would walk around, picking up the cigar butts of the arrogant bunch whose supped up cars had stickers of numbers on rear windows announcing they would be in the weekends races. Some of these outrageously expensive automobiles would end up wrecked and worthless by the end of the events. I shook my head at the shame of such a waste. So many nice perks came with night security walkthroughs. I could help myself to any beverage, including espresso, which I took advantage of start of every shift. After that, it was orange, apple, pineapple juices, and V8. When I got hungry, I would get a bowl of fruit and berries. I was still on the mend and having access all night to a free flow of juice and milk and vitamins through the vegetable juice was a needed, sustaining, and strengthening blessing that was given to me in the short season I worked at the Harbor Hotel. Time was quickly approaching the move-out date, and we had not found a home to rent anywhere in Watkins Glen or neighboring village of Montour Falls. With only a few days left in the month, Tammy found a rental in Alpine, about fortyfive minutes away. It was a two-bedroom trailer in a trailer park a mile down the road from a massive dairy farm. Catch my drift? I can still smell the sour stench from the fresh fertilizer being sprayed on the cornfields. The kids weren’t thrilled at all, but with no time left and with no other choice, we started the moving process. With moving trailer hooked up, we drove to the house where our belongings were being stored and found it empty besides the large furniture, the oak curio cabinet from my Grandma Stewart’s house, the cedar entertainment center from my parents’ home, and the furniture from Grandma and Grandpa Steele’s. My hands were shaking as I called the office of the teen home. I told the secretary I was at the house to pick up our things and it was empty except for the furniture. She said they thought we had left and everything had been thrown in

the dumpster outside the kitchen at the campus. I had been stricken with Sickness, started a new job, and was adjusting to the night shift, and now I was in a dumpster on my day off, retrieving my personal possessions. My framed family photos of my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, were all thrown in the garbage. Every box had been tossed upside down so that the contents fell out of the top down in between garbage bags full of thrown-out food. How can one not be offended? I felt angry, insulted, hurt, and it made me very weak standing on top of those trash bags, trying to salvage as much as I could. I thank God Tammy was with me to keep me tame. The Hulk wanted to smash. That energy was helpful in heaving heavy boxes and bags and belongings over the dumpster’s edge to my wife as she lugged and loaded our stuff. I don’t know how, but we managed to get everything that had filled a two-story, four-bedroom home to fit into a two-bedroom trailer. I felt like Lot among the Sodomites as the unruly and loud neighbors ran, at times naked, down the gravel drive in the middle of the night, shouting and carrying on, caring not that they woke up everyone in the park. I never wanted to leave Tammy at home alone because of the shady characters that crept in the shadows and peeped into homes under the cover of night. And that was the exact time I would work at the hotel. I prayed with her each evening before beginning my shift and encouraged her to be watchful and vigilant in prayer, for we were in a viper’s pit, surrounded by snakes. The time as night security at the Harbor Hotel in Watkins Glen, New York, turned out to be a blessing to me in so many wonderful ways. The many things that my physical strengthening and emotional healing required were received while working there. Not only was there the abundance of fruits and juices, but there were thoughtful coworkers would set aside plates from the days banquet dishes for the night shift workers. We would remove the silver lids to find some night steak and shrimp; other nights, there were prime rib and pasta with portabella and white wine sauce. Every night came with the selection of spectacular soups, each one robust with richness and full of flavor. Steamed vegetables, chef salads, fresh crab, and artichoke dips—it was all food fit for a king or queen depending on who the fortunate person to partake of the feast was. We appreciated the thoughtfulness of the kitchen staff. Every person in the entire staff that I encountered was friendly, respectful, and hospitable. You had to be equipped with those qualities to be offered an opportunity to serve on staff at the lavish and luxurious place of rest and relaxation for the rich. I

heard their was a bitter brood in housekeeping, but my shift ended before theirs began. Each dawn, as I unlocked the doors to the hotel’s side entrances and the restaurant and patio doors, I would observe the sunrise over Seneca Lake. Every day was a different beauty to behold. Some still, quiet mornings, I would stand on the patio and look out across the placid, peaceful big body of water and watch the fog lifting from its surface. Some cold and windy mornings would bring a white coating of bright, sparkling snow. Some mornings the sun broke through with brilliant colors and blue skies. Some days the clouds hid its comfort and warming shine. I had heard Melvin, the hotels maintenance man/gardener, humming “How Great Thou Art” one morning. We had an immediate Christian camaraderie when I, from the front desk, belted out boldly “How Great Thou Art! How Great Thou Art!” He and I spoke of our loving Lord every morning we worked together from that day forward. One morning, I was playing a recording of Psalm 23 for Melvin from my cell phone. Donny, the doorkeeper (or porter as the position was titled), overheard me singing the Psalm to Melvin and drew nearer to better hear. Melvin looked me with wide eyes, put a finger on my heart, and said emphatically, “You are a blessed man!” Donny looked at me and said, “You don’t hear that every day from the people around here. It is a beautiful and pleasant thing to have someone else to share in faith.” There were wonderful and deep moments shared each morning between the three of us at the start of each new day. There was also an instinctual discernment we all three exercised whenever someone would approach whether we would continue our conversation or other times stop talking. I was greatly encouraged by the fellowship of the few believers while working at the hotel. I seemed to be on a physical rebound energy-wise but not putting on any weight. One day I lost my balance in the bathroom and fell against the door. A sharp, stinging pain went through my shoulder and back. I pulled up my shirt and looked in the mirror to see a baseball-size knot just below my right shoulder blade. Just when I was feeling somewhat better, all of a sudden, I somehow felt worse. I still went to work although I was sick in my stomach. I didn’t feel like

espresso or juice that evening but just water with lemon. The water out of the drink station was cold and crisp and, with the added lemon wedges, tasted great and felt good going down and settled the stomach. I drank strictly lemon water for a week, not realizing that it was really doing my body a great deal of good. It was sort of a self-shock to system so to speak. The contusion began to cleanse as it started to leak warm liquid. My wonderful wife became my necessary nurse. Over the next week, she istered antibacterial ointment and fresh bandages over the wound. We had purchased tickets to a concert to attend with Trin and Jayden months earlier, and it was the day of the big event in Buffalo. Although I was not feeling that well, only about 50 percent, and tried to talk my way out of going, I put on my camouflage with the rest of my crew and sunk down in the enger’s seat and got as comfortable as I could for the three-hour ride. The kids were excited to see their favorite band for the third time in two years in three different states. The first time we saw 21 Pilots was in Dallas, Texas. Then we took the kids to see them in Atlanta, Georgia, as Tammy and I enjoyed the evening together. We were all on our way to see them, again, in Buffalo, New York. But before the concert, we drove up to Niagara Falls. I had always wanted to see the falls in person, and when we got there, it was well worth the trip. We spent about thirty minutes taking in the sheer awesomeness of the rushing waters that roared as they cascaded and crashed over the miles of curving edge to the river below, sending a massive splash of spray 150 feet into the air, creating a rainbow connecting America and Canada. I was inspired and felt 70 percent better upon our departure of the falls. The concert was a blast, and the best part was watching my children having such an enjoyable time, even in tears during certain songs. By the time we were heading back home, I was nearly 90 percent okay. The day had sent healing with the time that had been spent together with my family. The following week, I received an email from a horse farm in Troy, New York, which was three and a half hours away, just outside of Albany. I called the farm and spoke with the owner, who set up a working interview with me over the phone. Two days later, Tammy, Trinity, Jayden, and I drove to the farm and spent four hours touring the facilities. I was tested on my ability to drive the tractor and back up the spreader into the barn. I pulled off the task smoothly and at ease as the husband and wife farm owners observed. After I cleaned a few stalls to their approval, they asked me into the office, and after a short conversation

explaining their expectations, they offered me a full-time salaried job with housing included. I went outside to where my family was walking around, looking at horses, and told them about the offer. They all shared equal excitement, especially the kids, who had made their way up a hill and were able to see Albany from the height. They are both more inclined to be city dwellers than I and their mother, who prefer a country setting. This farm had both. It was set just three miles from the busy town of Troy, which had everything you could possibly want, but it was also off the busy path and surrounded by rolling hills and trees. On the first week of October 2019, although it was early autumn with its falling leaves, there was a chill in the wind that had everyone already in heavy coats. This was helpful to hide my feeble frame, and the Carhartt coat gave an appearance of a hefty, healthy, able human. I went back inside and accepted the job offer. They had painted a pretty picture, but again, if I were able to see into the future, I may not have entered into an agreement with them by the shaking of hands. Nonetheless, all things work together for God’s purposes we cannot comprehend. Two weeks later, we loaded another moving truck and made another three-hour haul to another horse farm. This was the third time we had moved in nine months. The large white farmhouse, where we would live was split into three apartments for separate farm workers and families. Our section of the house had two bedrooms upstairs, which Jayden and Trin called dibs on before we had a chance to check out the space. There was a large living room, small middle room, dining room, kitchen downstairs. Tammy and I used the dining room for our bedroom. There were two downfalls to the arrangement. There is only one bathroom that was, unfortunately, upstairs, and our bed was right outside the kitchen door. Our kids, who for some reason keep a vampire’s sleep schedule, and their frequent trips to the fridge in the middle of the night sound like sumo wrestlers rummaging around rather than the light-footed ninjas we asked them to tiptoe like. What’s with teenagers today? The blind is leading the blind, so they are all led astray. When I started working on the farm, there were twenty-four horses in stalls that got turned out into assigned paddocks as the weather permitted. There was a young brother working in the barn, listening to Lecrae. I was glad to hear my favorite Christian rapper being played. We hit it off well as I picked up a pitchfork and began the arduous activity. Will and I talked as we worked, and he told me he was worn out. He said he had been working here for only four

months and had been lied to too many times and he was ready to hit the road. I tried to encourage him to hang in there and that having a house and a paycheck was a good thing for a man his age with a girlfriend and newborn. I had been exactly where he was eighteen years ago, away from my wife and newborn daughter, working to make a way to be together. I didn’t just sympathize with Will; I empathized with him. I had walked a mile in his shoes. I knew exactly how he felt. The difficult days I had gone through years ago were now being used to lift up a brother in his dark hours of Depression. Over the next two weeks, as Will’s work waned, I picked up his slack by doubling my efforts. He had lost all motivation because of the misleadings of the owners about moving the lady he loved and their three-month-old daughter. He was temporarily staying in a small apartment above the stalls in the front barn. It was not large enough for his family to him with all the baby’s belongings. He had been promised the back apartment in the house I had moved into; however, the previous workers were still living in the space and seemed to be in no hurry to leave. They actually stayed in the apartment until after Christmas. Will never showed that he held any grudge toward me that I was given the large apartment and moved my family into it when he had already been working and waiting for four months to have his family with him. We actually established a close camaraderie as brothers in Christ in the short time we spent together. We shared dinners together at our house, and he enjoyed interacting with Jayden, who would play Will songs he had produced. Will is a writer of lyrics with no limits and free styles to beats and was blown away at my son’s instrumentals. At such a young age, Jayden already exhibits that you can accomplish excellent things using the unique and astounding gifts from God. I encouraged him every morning to pray and push forward and show that his God was bigger than his grief and was going to give him greater things than he could fathom because of his faith, and his groans had been heard by his heavenly Father. During the next week, Will was hit hard by Depression. I knew his season of struggle working on this farm would soon be finished and told him we would always that we met here, worked here, and earned respect and friendship with each other. The connection had been made for future collaboration if the Lord willed it. At the end of Friday’s exhausting endeavors, he was fired while handed his last paycheck. As if that was not insult enough, it

was the day before his birthday, and the boss knew it because he had requested Saturday off to spend with his mother, who was driving up from Pennsylvania. Will had mentioned his plans to the boss two weeks prior, and it had been put on the calendar. Happy Birthday, brother. He actually did seem happy, even relieved, the next morning when I saw him before his Uber driver arrived. He had just bought nearly $100 in groceries and offered them to us. He, being a single twenty-four-year-old young man working on a farm with a big appetite and culinary skills, had a fridge and freezer full of food we didn’t normally buy because of a strict budget. I loaded two boxes of very delightful delicacies and sweet treats, fresh fruit and vegetables, sauces and spices that Tammy enjoyed cooking and serving and had saved us a good amount of money for groceries. Will’s Cajun and French influences incorporated into the cooking was a refreshing, tasteful change of normality, although Tammy’s normal is not nearly replicated. I hated to see Will go as a friend but also coworker, for now I had the entire workload all to do myself. As I attacked the chores each day, I would play worship music and messages on my cell phone. Staying in a mode of adoration to the Lord gave me joy and the strength I needed to do my duties. If my cell phone was out of range to receive a signal, I would lose my streaming songs. Working without music was mundane and monotonous. I would find myself rather quickly falling into a quagmire responding to Aggravation and Frustration in pettiness and fatigue. A week after Will’s release, I witnessed one of the horse owners that gave lessons to young riders load his horse into his horse trailer and leave the farm. This happened after a disagreement with the farm owners over their nonpayment of services he had performed at their request. There was a loud argument between the three as I cleaned stalls near where the dispute went on. When he left, five horse boarders took their horses to the farm he moved his horse to, and the next day, another horse left. In two days, I watched as seven horses were loaded on various trailers and taken from the farm because of the altercation that had occurred. Monthly boarding costs per horse here was $750 plus additional charges for extra services, like blanketing, extra bedding, vaccination istration, hoof care, etc. That was a hit of $5,250 a month from boarding costs alone that they lost in the blink of an eye. I walked into the office and saw the wife owner sitting at the desk, crying. I offered words of encouragement, but I could tell they were not received. The next morning, with my morning text to her that all was well with the horses, I

included a scripture of hopeful words. She replied, “Thank you. I needed that today.” I began sending her a age of faith and hope every morning to lift her up. One morning, in my hurry, I forgot to send the morning scripture. She messaged me later in the day and said she had really missed my morning text. She stated that she looked forward to them every morning. So I made sure to send it since she asked me to continue. The next two months were difficult due to fact that every facet of the job was extremely physically demanding. I began feeling a spiritual Conflict like I have felt from time to time but seemed to grow more intense from day to day. There was a spiritual intensity all around that I had never sensed so strong before. It had its effects mentally and physically, even emotionally at times. The owners’ masks were taken off, and their true character came out. I had heard from the two previous workers who still lived in the farmhouse, our neighbors, how they had been mistreated and even robbed by nonpayment of earned wages by the owners. I had seen with my own eyes how they had treated Will, and now I was getting the brunt of it all since they had no one else to take their frustrations out on. The daily demands became too much for me to handle alone, and I knew I was doing all I could by the grace of God and the strength He gave me, sustaining me each day. The husband would come down to the barn every morning around eight, puffed up and arrogant, throwing around his weight. “This is my place, and we do things the way I say. I won’t have anybody telling me how to run my business” would be the remarks in response to suggestions of solutions that would simplify certain chores, eliminating time taken to do those tasks, creating time to address other needed areas of neglect. There were pitiful potholes making every road a rough ride, broken boards on falling fence lines that were overgrown with weeds and bunches of briars. I found myself sending scripture every morning to and then being greeted by sharp Sarcasm, Disgust, and Disdain. I, who have had a short fuse and quick Temper my whole life, was only able to remain calm with a sound mind and was staying in a mode of worship while I worked. As Christ taught to turn the other cheek, I continued to bless those who chose to curse me. I became aware of the wife owner burning sage around the barns to

“ward off evil spirits.” But the only thing that has power over such things is the blood of Jesus. No sage or dream catcher or crystals or chimes can send torment away or give peace to your mind. Only the name of Jesus can do that. So many things rubbed me the wrong way. There was no routine. Every day was chaotic. “Go do this, go do that.” I was being pulled from one project to another and put behind the daily duties that had to be done, extending the hours with no extra pay. I was taken advantage of day after day and treated like dirt after all the hard work. After a month of getting shorted $50 a week and with Christmas now a month away, I felt enough was enough and finally asked the boss about it. Their response was that they couldn’t afford to pay any more, that they were struggling financially. Yet they only wore expensive designer clothes and furs and drove around in four different luxury vehicles—BMW, Cadillac, Range Rover, and an Electro car out of California. Two or three times a week, they would come back from shopping and unload bags from Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, and other expensive stores, but they couldn’t afford to pay what was due to their workers. This was probably how they had treated everyone as long as they owned the farm and employed workers. What I heard from the three people that had previously worked for them was that nobody lasted more than four or five months on this farm because of being worked to weariness and being cheated on pay. Not only was it wrong, insulting, and offensive; it was also illegal. Even with meager income, we still had means to celebrate the birthday’s beginning with Trinity’s the end of October, followed by Tammy’s and Jayden’s both in November. October, November, and December are always busy, busy, busy. Tammy decked the halls and the home so beautifully as always. Snow stayed on the ground from late October to mid-December and then began to melt. The garland, bows, and lights hung around the house and porch made the home look warm and alive. The tree looked lovely, decorated with homemade nativities and painted ornaments from Christmases past lit up with the glow white lights. It made coming home from work all the more special and comforting. We celebrated the birth of Christ our Savior throughout the season and ed Him with respect and adoration. We watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special together and listened as Linus recited the real meaning of Christmas to the Peanuts gang while playing a new board game in our new pajamas as is our Christmas Eve tradition.

As in years gone by, our children came down to find new instruments to add to their ensemble displayed by the tree. This year, Jayden found a new pop snare for his acoustic drum kit, and Trinity a banjo ukulele nestled neatly near the tree. While they unwrapped their gifts with giggles and glee, I sat smiling, sipping my coffee with angels. The boxes of presents had sat since Thanksgiving behind the centerpiece in front of the tree: a beautiful porcelain nativity scene that had been my Mama’s, six-inch figures all hand painted, Mary and Joseph in a barn with baby Jesus in a manger full of hay, three kings of Orient with gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh, two shepherds bowing, two sheep, one camel, two palm trees. The scene had maintained its focal point mostly undisturbed surprisingly since under the tree was the cats favorite spot to be, swatting at ornaments above their heads. Most of what we watched on TV throughout the weeks of celebration were Christmas movies and TV specials. We watched my favorite, It’s a Wonderful Life, together. I love when the bell on the tree behind the Bailey’s rings and little ZuZu perks up, “Teacher says every time a bell rings an angel gets it’s wings.” And George says, “That’s right,” winking to the sky and adding “Atta boy, Clarence” with a smile. The day was filled with laughter and love like Christmas should be but, just like years ago in Rowlett, Texas, there was a shifting in the air. There was a sense of foreboding that felt familiar. On January 1, 2020, a new year had begun with a fresh snow on the ground. It was a heavy, slushy snow, good for packing snow balls and building snow people. It was also heavy enough to have caused the outdoor arena to cave in. As you can imagine, the boss was beside himself. I saw him fuming and fussing over the fallen, dilapidated disaster. It must have made him sick to his stomach because he went inside his house and didn’t come back out for a while. What do you expect to happen when you embezzle at the expense of your own employees? Not doing unto others the same way they insisted others do unto them. Do they not know that you reap what you sow? And obviously, pride comes before a fall. He wouldn’t be humbled, though, and seemed to hate me more each day, maybe because of the scripture texts to his wife that, although she requested, didn’t take root because of the thorns. He would drive around the outside of the barn way too fast, causing the horses to frenzy. Revving his supped up Jeep so everybody knew the boss was here and needed you to come to where he sat and waited.

“Hurry!”. He honked. “My time is more important than yours.” He was acting more and more like a maniacal man. I have worked for such men many times for reasons God only knows, but it helped me put up with this one for the time needed. I prayed and asked God, “How much more of this must I endure, Lord? I know I can only do this work every day with the strength that You give me. I thank You for each day and that sustaining grace. There is no way I could lift the weight of every muck bucket, every bale of hay, every task throughout the day, physically and mentally without Your Presence and power. Thank You for never leaving nor forsaking me, Jesus.” One morning, I actually stood at the front door and whimpered like a child before opening it to the outside world. About an hour later, while tossing hay to the horses, I heard a voice say, “Why do you cry? Why do you fight without your armor? Do you not know you are a warrior, more than a conqueror? But you are taking the brunt of a battle that belongs to the Lord. Put on the armor and stand, man of God!” It was like Jesus telling His disciples when they woke Him during the storm at sea. “Oh, ye of little faith!” And then He told the wind and waves to “shut up,” and they obeyed. I stood there while the horse munched on fresh hay and prayed the pieces of God’s armor on. I hadn’t practiced doing this daily in a while. It was time to start armoring up again. I was given immediate peace of mind and a fresh strength that just put a joyous pep in my step. The first weekend of the new year, Tammy, Trinity, Jayden, and I made the fourhour drive to Alpine, where Gaige was living. We had not seen him in a couple months and went to exchange gifts and gather a few items we were storing at his home. He mentioned to us that they had several major problems with the water pump and well, and other issues with flooring in the house. They needed a new place to live pronto. They had also recently run into problems with their vehicle and getting to work twenty minutes away was becoming a challenge. I reminded him that everything always works out. We need not worry about tomorrow, only pray and let Him lead and be willing to go where He guides. The very next morning, I heard the boss lady mention to a client that she was going to put an ad for a part-time worker. I told her my son needed a job and had grown up on farms and helped me from time to time. She said, “Let’s try him out for a week and see how he does. If he likes it, and

we’ll go from there.” We made the drive the following weekend and brought Gaige back to begin his new venture with this farm. For the next month, I enjoyed working with my son, training him and showing him the ropes. We made a good team. His first full week of hard work was finished, and it was payday. And wouldn’t you know— they tried to short him because he didn’t know any better. I would not allow it, and I told her, the check writer, that he needed to be paid fairly or the deal was off. She knew after the first week he was an asset to keep around. She tried to finagle her way with an excuse that it was a trial week. I said, “Trial week or not, he needs to get paid for the hours he worked.” She wrote him another check for the $75 she tried to steal from him. It made all the difference in the world having a good helper, and Gaige really stepped up. He caught on quickly and even enjoyed the handling of the horses and learning to operate the tractor. I explained to him that if he hung in there, he was learning good skills and a trade that he can use anywhere he ever goes and probably for better people, certainly not crooks. He proved his worth and was offered the apartment behind ours the following week. He took the job, and we have been neighbors for four months. I know he was glad to have his mother’s cooking again. As I did every morning, I had my coffee, and after I’d had my devotion and prayer, I turned on the local news mainly for the weather forecast to know how to dress for the day. It had been a frozen tundra for the entire month of January, and fresh snow fell atop the frozen inches already on the ground. On January 16, while drinking my coffee, I heard the first reports of a new, unknown virus in China that raised concerns with 27 cases. On January 31, President Donald Trump ordered a no-flight from China to the United States and anyone who had been to China within fourteen days. By this date, 213 people had died and nearly 9,800 had been infected worldwide. Tammy and I watched the news reports every morning, and as the numbers kept increasing from various countries, it became more unsettling each time we turned on the TV. One morning, in such sadness, Tammy started sobbing. I ed her with my own tears for those that had died due to this terrible devastation. We wept with those who were weeping.

I sighed heavily and said, “Let’s put something else on. This is just too much to bear right now.” I put on some Petra praise, and we magnified the Most High God. Our son, Jayden, came downstairs while we worshiped the King of Glory and waited to speak. When I looked at him sitting on the couch, I could tell he was troubled. I inquired what was on his mind, and he asked, “Are we all gonna die?” I said, “No, we’re all gonna live!” I asked him if he ed the tornado in Texas that came near but was turned off course as we prayed Psalm 91 aloud in the closet. He said, “Yes, but that was different. That was a tornado. This is a virus killing people all over the world.” I told him it didn’t matter what we were facing whether a tornado or a virus or a disease or any demon from hell. We could stand on God’s Word, and He would protect us and keep us safe, just have faith. I reminded him of all the times God has come to our rescue and told him that God was always with us, watching over us, and had sent more angels to stand guard and encamp around us than there were against us. He acknowledged and accepted the peace that es all understanding. On February 2, the first coronavirus death was reported outside China—in the Philippines. On February 3, the Chinese authorities closed off Wuhan by canceling planes and trains leaving the city and suspending buses, subways, and ferries within it. But it was too late by then. For at least 17 people had died and more than 570 others had been infected, including people in Taiwan, Japan, Thailand, South Korea, and the United States. On February 5, a cruise ship in Japan quarantined thousands. On February 14, announced the first coronavirus death in Europe. On February 23, Italy saw a major surge in cases. On February 24, Iran emerged as a second focus point. On February 26, Latin America reported its first case. Italy, where 800 people had been infected by Feb. 28, remained an area of concern. Cases in 14 other countries, including Northern Ireland and Wales, could be traced back to Italy. had nearly 60 cases by Feb. 27, and reported 57, more than triple the number from two days earlier. Both England and Switzerland reported additional cases, while Belarus, Estonia, and Lithuania all reported their first infections. Sub-Saharan Africa

recorded its first infection. On Feb. 29, the authorities announced that a patient near Seattle had died from the coronavirus in what was believed to be the first coronavirus death in the United States at the time. In fact, two people had died earlier, though their COVID-19 diagnoses were not discovered until months later. The CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) lifted all federal restrictions on testing for the coronavirus on March 3, according to Vice President Mike Pence, to make widespread testing possible. On March 11, President Trump blocked most visitors from continental Europe. On March 13, President Trump declared a national emergency. Tammy and I had kept up with local news early mornings while we had prayer before I went to work. Sometimes, Gaige would us for breakfast, and then we would head down to the barn together. I enjoyed the time with my eldest as we talked about God’s amazing grace He’d shown in our lives over the years since Gaige was young. Sometimes I assumed he wasn’t listening to my lengthy talks and was surprised, though proud, when he proved me wrong. One day I had told him I felt like Jonah, and New York was my Nineveh, yet here we were twenty minutes from Albany, the capital of New York. I would’ve never thought it. I was ready to find a gourd to sit under and wait for God to annihilate this place altogether. But that would only result in a sunburn. A few days after the conversation, Gaige sent a text that there was an actual Nineveh, New York. Tammy and I laughed at his text when I told her what his message meant. Tammy replied, “LOL, Dad didn’t think you were listening the other day.” He responded, “I hear everything he says. I learn a lot from that crazy man!” I concurred. Friday, March 13, was a major day in my life due to the most amazing miracle working way of God. I had my time card to turn in with my weekly hours worked for my check later that day. I had intended to put it on the office desk for the boss lady, but the boss man walked in and asked what I needed. I told him I was just turning in my hours to get paid. He snatched the sheet out of my hand and looked at it. He saw the hours I had written down for the day before, which was 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

He yelled at me and said, “Oh, you worked until five yesterday? I saw you park the truck in the barn at three thirty!” I said, “Yes, sir. I parked the truck at three thirty, and then Gaige and I worked on the fence line until five.” “What fence line?” he snapped. “The one by the road that you asked me to repair this week. Gaige and I got the whole fence finished after we were done down here.” He came around from behind the desk and got in my face. He started cussing me out and calling me names and was so close to me that spittle was flying in my face. Now the natural man that I am really wanted to rise up and meet him on the invisible mountain that he was looking down on me from, but the spirit man that I am had been fed more and was dominate in that moment. I had my armor on and stood. As he continued degrading me and specks of spit landed on my cheek and glasses, I thought of the virus going around and the social distancing that was being encouraged. I turned to the door and stepped out into the barn aisle. He followed me into the hallway and continued his verbal attack. I glanced at my son, who was cleaning a stall to my right, listening to the loud commotion coming from the bad attitude of the boss. I began to walk away, and he followed me, still cursing me and calling me every derogatory name you could think of. I don’t reckon he left any out. As I walked out of the barn and into the cold air and onto the frozen ice, he followed me, fuming and kicking the heels of my tennis shoes with each step I took. He was like some punk kid in middle school. I really thought he was trying to get me riled up. Why would someone do such things unless it was to cause a confrontation? I said nothing in response to his bitter bickering until he made the remark that they “went above and beyond to take care of their employees and that they were struggling financially and that they paid us every week all the money they made.” Lies just poured out of his mouth. He had just bought his seventeen-year-old son a brand-new, shiny, black 4 × 4 pickup truck the week before. They must have thought everyone was blind and bumbling idiots that really believed their constant contradictions. They seemed to feel they were successfully pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. As he was yelling, he accused again that I tried to cheat them by falsifying hours worked when, in fact, they were the ones shorting

us every week. How twisted our the minds of the reprobate. I had had enough. I looked him directly in the eye and said, “You, sir, are a liar.” He turned red in the face and got in my face again and shouted, “You’re fired! You ungrateful blankety-blank. You better figure out what you’re going to do with your family and get the blank off my property! You have two days to get your blank out of here, or I will remove it! You sorry piece of blank!” Since that morning, the world has watched as this plague, this pestilence, now known as COVID-19, originally called coronavirus, has become a worldwide pandemic. Two days later, instead of moving out, we were settling in along with the whole wide world that was being shut down, locked down, and quarantined. On March 15, the CDC recommended no gatherings of fifty or more people in the US. The following day, President Trump advised citizens to avoid groups of more than ten. New York City’s public schools system, the nation’s largest with 1.1 million students, announced that it would close. On March 16, several countries across Latin America imposed restrictions on their citizens to slow the spread of the virus. Venezuela announced a nationwide quarantine that began on March 17. Ecuador and Peru implemented countrywide lockdowns, while Colombia and Costa Rica closed their borders. However, Jair Bolsonaro, the president of Brazil, encouraged mass demonstrations by his ers against his opponents in congress. On March 17, imposed a nationwide lockdown, prohibiting gatherings of any size and postponing the second round its municipal elections. By this time, had more than 6,500 infections with more than 140 deaths. March 19, China reported no new local infections for the previous day, a milestone in the ongoing fight against the pandemic. The news signaled that an end to China’s epidemic could be in sight. On March 21, Hawaii ordered a mandatory 14-day quarantine for travelers. March 23, Prime Minister Boris Johnson locked Britain down. On March 24, the Tokyo Olympics delayed until 2021. India announced a 21day lockdown. March 26, the United States officially became the country hardest hit by the pandemic, with at least 81,321 confirmed infections and more than 1,000 deaths. This was more reported cases than in China, Italy, or any other country at the time. On March 25, President Trump signed a $2 trillion measure

to respond to the coronavirus pandemic. Lawmakers said the bill, which ed with overwhelming , was imperfect but essential to address the national public health and economic crisis. On March 28, the CDC urged residents of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut to “refrain from nonessential domestic travel for 14 days effective immediately.” As things had developed over the last year, we had ended up in what was evidently the epicenter of the disease in the United States. On March 30, Virginia, Maryland, and Washington, DC, issued orders requiring their residents to stay home. Similar orders went into effect for Kansas and North Carolina. Other states had previously put strict measures in place. The new orders meant that least 265 million Americans were being urged to stay home. By April 2, the pandemic had sickened more than 1 million people in 171 countries across 6 continents, killing at least 51,000. In just a few weeks, the pandemic put nearly 10 million Americans out of work, including a staggering 6.6 million people who applied for unemployment benefits in the last week of March. The speed and scale of the job losses was without precedent. As we tried to shelter our children and keep them safe from fear of this pandemic causing panic, they still were informed and influenced by social media. We prayed and cried that God would protect our family and loved ones all over the country. Our prayers were more fervent than frequent days. All we had was time to seek God and be still before Him. All the news reports coming in from around the world, the country, and especially, concerning us, the very nearness to “clusters” of the curious virus receiving national attention on major news networks were certainly distressing and discouraging at times. But Tammy and I were putting on the armor to start each day and kept at peace. Our faith gave us strength and wisdom as we gave assurance to our children by the Word of our testimony. When my youngest child, Jayden, asked, not many days ago, if we were all going to die, if this was the end of the world, I answered with Jesus’s response when asked a similar question about the time of the end:

“And as He sat upon the mount of Olives, the disciples came unto Him privately, saying, Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world? And Jesus answered and said unto them,

Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in My name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to , but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows. Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name’s sake. And then shall many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another. And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many. And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.”

And Paul tells Timothy:

“This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accs, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.”

If that doesn’t describe the conditions of our country I don’t know what does— the blind leading the blind down the broad road into a big ditch. They were using rainbow-colored flags fly representing gay pride instead of ing God’s promise. Some states, including New York, ed laws allowing abortions through full-term pregnancy. Although doctors testified in detail the process of the horrendous act before legislators, the vote still was in favor of Murder. In spite of all the deaths due to COVID-19 yesterday, the total number of babies whose lives were taken at one Planned Parenthood Clinic in Kansas was triple that amount. This is Defiance and Disobedience to a disgusting degree and a darkness has been over a completely divided America. The shadow of the solar eclipse that was cast

across our country was a sign of a split nation. We cried every morning for God to direct our thoughts and give grace and gentleness to our words, to remain our Prince of Peace and Mighty Counselor and Comforter, Healer, and Hope. According to an early preliminary study using phylogenetic analysis, the expert estimate suggested an origin of the virus sometime between November 22 and 24, 2019. As of May 2020, this estimate has been corroborated with a larger dataset, setting the origin to October 6, 2019–December 11, 2019. Although near-conclusive evidence points to bats as the natural reservoir host for the virus, the path of transmission to humans (i.e., zoonotic origin) most likely occurred via an intermediary wildlife host. When I heard this report, I ed the dark cloud I had seen departing the Days Inn International in Nashville, Tennessee, years ago. I recalled how bat-like in nature the movement had been, leaving a trail like a snake’s tail across the sky. I ed, also, the release of revival at Pastor Will’s church, and Clay Gardner. He had started the prayer assembly with a verse from 2 Chronicles: “If my people, which are called by My name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” I had seen this age posted a lot lately on Facebook, and we had been praying and seeking God whole heartedly in our home for three weeks. Twenty-one days. Just like the angel Gabriel showed up after Daniel’s twenty-one days of seeking the Ancient of Days, we were filled with revelations, and revival fire began to fall on us and in our home. The more we drew near to God, the more He gave us of Himself. We felt His heart and fell to our knees crying out for forgiveness of all the dirt He wanted to clean out of our lives. My attitude, lack of patience, and outbursts of anger were still at an unsatisfactory place of control. I prayed that I decrease and He increase—more of Him and less of me. I didn’t want to wrestle with myself anymore. I had just grown tired of me and only wanted to be like Jesus in every way. I cried for more and more and more and more of Him. I asked that we bud, blossom, and bear fruit. Standing with the armor on, watching and praying, the prophecies continued to unfold day by day. On March 6, ten days after going public with his coronavirus diagnosis, Prime Minister Boris Johnson of Britain was moved into intensive care. The decision was a precaution, according to the British government, who also said he had been in good spirits. The eight-day Jewish Feast of over began on the eighth of April. This year was the second time in Israel’s history

that all families were gathered together in their homes quarantined from the outside world as a plague swept through bringing death all around them. The first was the original event when the angel of death ed over the homes that had the blood of a lamb without blemish on the doorposts. We ed Jesus gathering with His disciples in the Upper Room as He explained to them the symbolism of the bread being His broken body, and the wine was His shed blood. As we considered Jesus agony and betrayal in the garden of Gethsemane, we gave Him adoration through communion. On Thursday, April 9, we beheld a beaten and bloody Jesus before Pilate and heard the crowd cry, “Crucify!” There was a strange and uncomfortable feeling in the atmosphere all day long. The sky was dark and had a reddish hue, and the wind was blowing steady and strong. Tammy and I hung a wreath of holly on the front door and a garland with the same red berries above the doorpost representing the blood of the Lamb. We placed a red cross by the door to our dwelling. We prayed again for protection from the plague and covering over our family. The wind howled outside as we huddled inside the house, leaning on the everlasting arms all night long. We woke to overcast skies the next somber morning. It was Good Friday, the day Jesus carried my cross up a hill called Calvary and laid down His life for me and you and the whole wide world. On Sunday, April 12, we woke before dawn and waited for the Son to rise. Tammy and I gave thanks together, poured our coffee, and turned the TV on. The world news reported the number of people hospitalized in Russia with COVID19 doubled from the previous week, with two-thirds of the country’s 12,000 reported cases in Moscow. The increase in cases pushed Moscow’s health care system to its limit, well before an expected peak. The International Monetary Fund warned that the global economy was headed for its worst downturn since the Great Depression. But amidst all the bad news, in our hearts was the Great News that the angel announced at the empty tomb. “He is Risen! Jesus is Alive!” We witnessed the golden light of a new day dispel the darkness in a glorious way. The heavens display of hope became brighter, bursting with colors of yellow, orange, and red like the raging fire burning in our hearts. We ed with thousands all over the world in live-stream worship. Many churches had drive-in services. It became evident to my wife and I that what we had been experiencing over the past month was happening in the homes and hearts of believers all over the earth. There were posts of people praying on the sidewalks, seeking God, crying out to

Him for forgiveness, mercy, and grace. The whole earth waits for the revealing of the sons of God. The kingdom of God has risen with Resurrection Life. We are returning to our first love and doing the first works, and the prophecy of Joel is being fulfilled:

“And it shall come to afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: and also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit. And I will shew wonders in the heavens and in the earth, blood, and fire, and pillars of smoke. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord come. And it shall come to , that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in the remnant whom the Lord shall call.”

We need habitation, not just a visitation. We need to build an altar in our bedroom where we pray and praise the Lord. We need to meet with Him every morning and seek Him first to start the new day. It requires commitment and dedication and denying of self to take up your cross daily and follow Him. But to see a soul get saved is the most satisfying and rewarding result of our service and obedience. Because of the present-day challenges due to the coronavirus, our neighbor David, an aging single parent with a daughter that just turned eight, asked us to watch her during the week while he is at work. Since schools were suspended, as everyone was still being asked to stay home, we had been hosting young Sydnie for several weeks. We celebrated her birthday with buttercream topped cupcakes that Tammy made with rainbow-colored edible candies and a toy unicorn that could walk, and neigh, and whinny when happy. It had a groom kit for the rainbow mane and tale. Tammy thoughtfully had picked the gift out for Sydnie because of the many sparkly shirts with unicorns she wore. When Tammy, Trinity, Jayden, and I walked in the living room, where Sydnie sat, with a lit candle on top of a cupcake, singing, “Happy Birthday to you,” she

started giggling with the biggest grin. She loved her gift and played with it all morning while munching. She just turned eight but could somehow eat more than my twenty-three-year-old. My wife and this little girl definitely shared the same love of the color pink. They did makeup and nails together before class time on the computer. But Sydnie had a new, more significant birthday she would be able to celebrate the rest of her life. I had the honor to lead this little girl to the Lord last week. She had been listening every morning to the worship music we played in our home and read the scriptures displayed on the screen. She, being at that watchful and curious age, asked me what I was doing as I sat daily working on the writing of this book. When I explained that to her, she asked what the book was about. I told her it was about angels. She sat up straight, brightened up, and said, “I believe in angels!” I said, “Me, too. This book is about experiences I have had with angels.” Her eyes got wide, and her interest was piqued. A few days later, she asked, “Did you finish your book?” I laughed and said, “Not yet, but soon.” Her dad asked what the book was about, and Sydnie said, “It’s about angels, Dad.” The afternoon, she asked Jesus into her heart, and I told her every angel in heaven had just shouted for joy when she prayed that prayer. She dropped her mouth open with wide-eyed amazement. During this time, this season of our lives, my wife is being a wonderful mother figure that was missing in this young girl’s life. We were shining all the light and showering all the love that we could while we had the opportunity to do so. We had so much to give because our cups runneth over. And she now knew where to go whenever we were not around. She knew the name above every name. And we would stay connected wherever we might go as friends on Facebook and friends in Christ. In our home, there is safety, refuge, and peace only because the Spirit of the Lord is here. We still have to fight the fight of faith constantly, continually, courageously, but we do it without fear in Jesus’s name. But as we live, laugh, and love, let us not lose heart or hope. And exercise every day as soldiers do so

that they are ready to sound the alarm against the approaching adversary and then stand strong.

“Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”

No, it is not always easy to turn the other cheek time and time again. We may not feel like blessing those that curse us. But if Bitterness, Resentment, and Grudge are given time to fester, they will invite Anger, Wrath, and Rage. Moses got mad at circumstances, and instead of speaking to the stone to bring forth water as instructed by God, he struck the stone with his staff. This act of disobedience disqualified him from entering the promised land. Thank God that was the way of the old covenant, and we are covered by the new covenant of grace.

“Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling or falling into sin, and to present you unblemished [blameless and faultless] in the presence of His glory with triumphant joy and unspeakable delight, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and power, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”

As we lift up the living Savior, He is doing a mighty work in His people. He is washing us, cleaning us, molding us, filling us, and equipping us. As the praises spring forth, we are being prepared for His return so that we are ready when He comes. And it’s not only us, whose names are already written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, but it’s for all those in darkness looking for the Light. The Light of the world that is in us; we are called to shine. “We have been appointed kings and priests unto God.” As kings, we are to represent God to the people through

holiness. As priests, we are to represent the people to God through intercession. “Even so then at this present time also there is a remnant according to the election of grace.” As God’s great grace has been shown in our own lives, we now are the extension of His love. We function with an unction that is the mind of Christ to reach those outside of His unimaginable, wonderful fellowship. For there are “multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision: for the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision.” Our intercession is for the redeeming of the time. God does not want anyone to perish without knowing Him. He is drawing all men to Him and using us as missionaries wherever we are. We are an extension and examples of the love of God to everyone. Therefore, let us be ready to answer in truth, giving grace to the hearer. May we never become complacent or confused but remain bold and confident, unwavering and uncompromising. We must “study to show ourselves approved unto God, workmen that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the Word of Truth.” And we should continue to “fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses.”

“So that you will begin to know what the immeasurable and unlimited and suring greatness of His [active, spiritual] power is in us who believe. These are in accordance with the working of His mighty strength which He produced in Christ when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion [whether angelic or human], and [far above] every name that is named [above every title that can be conferred], not only in this age and world but also in the one to come. And He put all things [in every realm] in subjection under Christ’s feet, and appointed Him as [supreme and authoritative] head over all things in the church.”

Praise God we have an Advocate, an Anchor, a Fortress, a fortified Strong Tower of safety, and a Rock of Refuge on which we stand.

“Who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained

promises, stopped the mouths of lions. Quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.”

He is the same today as He was yesterday, has been always, and will be forever. He is Omnipotent, Omniscient, and Omnipresent. Through His Ascension into heaven, we have access to the throne of God. As kingdoms and governments all over the world have been subdued and the earth silenced and righteousness is raining, restoring, and revealing the kingdom of God, we are even now receiving the promises we have believed in by faith. He is still to this day shutting the mouths of lions, putting out the fires of Offenses that otherwise would spread with Fury. He is still watching over us protecting us from Pestilence and Plague, Death and Disease, and any drawn sword of the enemy. Still today He is our Healer and source of Strength when we are weak physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Through Him, we can do all things and are more than conquerors, valiant, and victorious. He still orders our steps, opening doors and sending His angels to fight our adversaries, sending them to flight.

“Therefore see that you walk carefully [living life with honor, purpose, and courage; shunning those who tolerate and enable evil], not as the unwise, but as wise [sensible, intelligent, discerning people], making the very most of your time [on earth, recognizing and taking advantage of each opportunity and using it with wisdom and diligence], because the days are [filled with] evil. Therefore do not be foolish and thoughtless, but understand and firmly grasp what the will of the Lord is.”

So in a time such as this, we watch, pray, and stand with hands raised in praise and worship to the only One Who is worthy. The battle belongs to the Lord, Who at all times is working all things in our lives for His good and perfect purpose and plan. As we have been afforded a time to be still, seek the Lord with all our hearts in prayer and praise and worship as we “draw near unto Him, He draws near unto us” and pours out His glory and fire into our minds, hearts, and lives. And in all these things, we are being watched by such a great cloud of

witnesses.

“It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves but you, when they spoke of the things that have now been told you by those who have preached the gospel to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven. Even angels long to look into these things.”

Angels enjoy watching us worship the King of kings in all forms of arts, songs, and sermons. They, too, sing praises unto the Ancient of Days. I imagine one day we will sing the songs of angels with them around the throne of God. As we see clearly the signs of the times, not knowing the certain day or specific hour of His return, we still acknowledge the season in which we live. Prophecies are being fulfilled faster and faster with each ing day. While the true worshipers are ri, the revival fire is falling from heaven into each home where believers are being inclined to intercede all around the world. It is a most majestic thing to witness and be a part of the kingdom of God shining brightly, dispelling the darkness. “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” May we return to our first love and do the first works we were created to do, and be the royal priesthood, the revealing of the sons and daughters of God.

“Therefore let us be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. And the things that you have heard from me among many witnesses, commit these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also. You therefore must endure hardship as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. No one engaged in warfare entangles himself with the affairs of this life, that he may please Him who enlisted him as a soldier. And also if anyone competes in athletics, he is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules. The hardworking farmer must be first to partake of the crops. Consider what I say, and may the Lord give you understanding in all things.”

This is my prayer for us all, that one day I will be able to say the same thing that Paul said to Timothy, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love His appearing.” And my one and only desire is to hear our Savior say on that day when the trumpet sounds to call the bride of Christ home, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a few things. I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your Lord.” Until that final day on earth, we shall occupy until He comes. No matter where we may find ourselves, it is according to His plan. Stay focused with eyes fixed firmly on Christ, communing with Him and continuing in His Word on which we stand covered by the blood of the Lamb. Pray, lest we fall into temptation, and when we do, He will deliver us from evil. Intercede for one another, especially those carrying the cross of Christ. May the Lord protect and provide and bless abundantly every pastor, evangelist, missionary, teacher of the Light of the world, worshiper, musician, singer, songwriter and artist using their gifts to bring glory to God. Keep the faith, a flame of fire, shine your light for all to see Christ in you, the hope of glory. And as we do, never forget we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, more for us than against us, invisible friends watching over us. Yes, there are truly angels among us.

Mercy Ship sent to New York City for COVID-19.

Thanks to all the front line workers who put the lives of others before their own safety—police officers, firemen, first responders, nurses, doctors, pastors, and missionaries.

President Trump holding up our only hope.

President Trump and Vice President Pence seeking wisdom (art by Tammy Stewart).

These images are pouring in from all across America and other nations following the lead of the lawless. May God have mercy on us.

Anarchy and rioting in every state and major city in America in the midst of a pandemic.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, the church of the Living God is ri in prayer and worship. One such anointed group is Maverick City Music.

Final Thoughts

On April 19, Chile became the first country to issue “immunity cards” to those who had recovered from the coronavirus. Card holders would be allowed to return to work, despite concerns about the possible risk of transmission. On April 21, officials in Santa Clara County, California, announced that two residents there died of the coronavirus on Feb. 6 and Feb. 17, making them the earliest known victims of the pandemic in the United States. The new information, gained from autopsies of the residents, moved the timeline of the virus’s spread in country weeks earlier than previously understood. On April 24, the EU appeared to succumb to pressure from Beijing and softened criticism of China in a report on disinformation about the coronavirus pandemic. While the initial report was not particularly harsh, European officials delayed and then rewrote the document to dilute the focus on China, a vital trading partner. By April 26, the coronavirus pandemic had killed more than 200,000 people and sickened more than 2.8 million worldwide, according to data collected by The New York Times. The actual toll is higher by an unknown degree and will remain so for some time. On April 27, scientists at Oxford University appeared to have a head start on a vaccine for the new coronavirus, having proved in a trial last year that a similar inoculation against an earlier coronavirus was harmless to humans. They then embarked on tests hoping to show by the end of May that the vaccine also works. There was at least one promising sign: scientists at a National Institutes of Health laboratory in Montana inoculated six rhesus macaque monkeys with single doses of the Oxford vaccine. The animals were then exposed to heavy quantities of the virus that is causing the pandemic. More than twenty-eight days later, all six were healthy. On April 30, American Airlines and Delta Air Lines said they would require all engers and flight attendants to wear a face covering. Lufthansa Group (which owns Lufthansa, Swiss International Air Lines and Austrian Airlines), as

well as JetBlue and Frontier Airlines had made similar announcements. On May 1, WHO extended its declaration of a global health emergency amid increasing criticism from the Trump istration about its handling of the pandemic. The move came three months after the WHO announced a “public health emergency of international concern” on Jan. 30. On May 1, the Food and Drug istration issued an emergency approval for the antiviral drug remdesivir as a treatment for COVID-19. The approval had been expected after a federal trial demonstrated modest improvements in severely ill patients. On May 3, a backlash was building against China for its initial mishandling of the crisis. Australia called for an inquiry into the origins of the virus. In Britain and , new questions were raised about the advisability of using the Chinese tech giant Huawei for new 5G systems. President Trump continued to blame China for the outbreak and sought ways to punish it. On May 5, French doctors said that they had discovered that a patient treated for pneumonia in late December had the coronavirus. If the diagnosis is verified, it would suggest that the virus appeared in Europe nearly a month earlier than previously understood and days before Chinese authorities first reported the new illness to the World Health Organization. The first report of an infection in Europe was on Jan. 24 in . On May 6, Poland’s presidential election was postponed indefinitely just days before the governing party planned to move forward with a poorly organized, mail-in vote that was denounced by the opposition candidates as a power grab. The vote, which was scheduled for May 10, would have been Europe’s first presidential election during the pandemic. On May 10, in a national address, Boris Johnson said that Britain would impose a mandatory quarantine on travelers arriving in the county by air in order to dodge a new wave of infections. He also urged the British public to “stay alert” and said that people could exercise outside as much as they wanted, sunbathe in parks, and return to work, if they could not work from home. Mr. Johnson’s blueprint to reopen Britain was met with confusion and criticism. On May 13, Dr. Mike Ryan, the head of the WHO’s health emergencies program, said the virus may become “just another endemic virus in our

communities, and this virus may never go away.” He also tamped down expectations that the invention of a vaccine would provide a quick and complete end to the global crisis. On May 16, in a virtual commencement speech to thousands of graduates of historically black colleges and universities, former President Barack Obama pointedly criticized the government’s handling of the crisis. “This pandemic has fully, finally torn back the curtain on the idea that so many of the folks in charge know what they’re doing,” he said. “A lot of them aren’t even pretending to be in charge.” By May 16, tens of millions of Americans had lost their jobs, more than 1.4 million people had been infected, and at least 88,000 had died. On May 17, Japan, the world’s third-largest economy after the United States and China, fell into a recession for the first time since 2015. Its economy shrank by an annualized rate of 3.4 percent in the first three months of the year. , Europe’s largest economy, also fell into a recession. Its economy suffered its worst contraction since the 2008 global financial crisis, shrinking by 2.2 percent in the January–March period from the previous quarter. On May 18, my wife showed me a video of a horrific incident that occurred in Minneapolis, Minnesota. A black man was handcuffed by police after trying to cash a $20 fraudulent check. After in cuffs, an officer placed his knee on the neck of George Floyd. For nearly nine minutes, as Floyd begged “I can’t breathe” and called for his mother, he took his last breath while the officer’s knee remained on his neck (even three full minutes after, there was no pulse found). I cried as I watched the video and yelled out in anger. I looked at my wife and told her that this was going to cause Minneapolis to get ripped apart. And the rioting began that night. On May 21, by this date, more than five million people worldwide had contracted the coronavirus, according to data compiled by The New York Times. The rising figure, which ed four million less than two weeks earlier, reflected not just the virus’s spread but also an increase in testing. No arrest has been made after the death of George Floyd. Protests are stirring in many large cities across America. On May 22, Brazil overtook Russia in reporting the second-highest count of infections worldwide, reaching more than 330,000. Peru and Chile ranked among the hardest-hit countries in the world in of infections per capita,

around 1 in 300. Data from Ecuador indicated that it was suffering one of the worst outbreaks in the world. The United States remained the global epicenter, with more than 1.6 million cases and the number of deaths nearing 100,000. On May 30, the country is in chaos. As the darkness of night falls on the cities of America, the peaceful protests of the day are replaced by Rebellion. In the midst of a worldwide pandemic, all caution and concern has ceased and the all too long unheard cries for justice have caused unrighteous anger to be unleashed all across the nation. Curfews challenged. Protesters are clashing with police. Reinforcements are called in by state governors and city mayors. Fury and frustration for the fifth night spills over in the streets of Minneapolis, MN, Atlanta, GA, Dallas, TX, Charlotte, NC, Brooklyn, NY, Los Angeles, CA, New York City, NY, Seattle, WA, Philadelphia, PA, Denver, CO, Washington DC, Chicago, IL, Miami, FL, Salt Lake City, MO, Las Vegas, NV, Portland, OR. Every major city in America was ripped apart, looted, and set on fire. Smoke is billowing from burning buildings and cars police and emergency vehicles in the road. There were broken bottles and windows of businesses broken into, unholy and uncensored graffiti of profanity and pornography on burned out grocery store walls. Anger and Aggression becomes Anarchy and Arson. Vengeance, Violence, and Vandalism. Looting and Lawlessness. Horror and Hate; Rioting, Rage, and Racial Divide; Danger, Disaster, Damage, Death, Destruction, Defiance, and Willful Disobedience are all present. Exploiting pain is an opportunity to Plunder. Each morning this week, the sun has risen to reveal the remains of the nights of Madness and Mayhem. The citizens of the communities come out to clean up the mess left by the massive mobs left by the visiting villains. Most of the arrests made proved to be out-of-state stirrers of hate. On June 3, after sixteen days of growing crowds and protests and violence all across America, the other three officers seen in the cell phone videos were arrested and charged for aiding and abetting in second-degree murder. The original third-degree murder charge on the officer responsible for George Floyd’s death was upped to a second-degree murder charge. On June 4, memorial services for George Floyd were held in Minneapolis, North Carolina, and Houston. In Georgia, the trial for the officers involved in Ahmed Arbery’s death. Mr. Arbery died after a chokehold by an officer while he pleaded as Floyd did, “I can’t breathe.” The carnage continues. David Dorn, a seventyseven-year-old retired police chief in St. Louis, Missouri, was shot and left to die on the sidewalk outside of a store he was trying to defend against looters and

vandals. As a thief trying to steal a TV scuffled with Mr. Dorn, he was shot and killed while it was live-streaming on Facebook. Most news media networks constantly pump the negative images as a platform to push their propaganda to keep the people divided and give credence to the unruly behavior. They pick and choose their sordid stories to create fear, panic, and divide, all the while plugging their political persuasion to their vulnerable victims, the viewers. These are Lies and Hypocrisy, the blind leading the blind. Another report says 42.6 million Americans have filed for unemployment in the past eleven weeks. President Trump is ridiculed and blasted by the left wing after a photo op of him at the church across from the white house, holding up the Bible, the Book we all should be holding up in a time such as this. This is a time of bad news, fake news, woeful news. Is there any good news? Yes! His name is Jesus.

Scripture Reference

Daddy’s Angel Genesis 21:17 (NIV); Matthew 26:39 (NKJV); Matthew 9:29, 17:7, 20:34 (NKJV) Genesis 22:11,15 (NKJV); Exodus 3:2 (NIV); Judges 6:12 (NLT); Mama’s Angel Psalm 91:11 (NIV); Daniel 8:16, 9:21 (NIV); Luke 1:11–19, 26– 28 (NIV); Proverbs 31:28 (NKJV) Invisible Friends Colossians 1:16 (TLB); 2 Timothy 1:12 (NKJV); Numbers 22:20–35 (NLV); Colossians 1:15–18 (MSG) Angel in the Army Ecclesiastes 3:1 (KJV); Joshua 5:13–15 (NIV); Ecclesiastes 3 (NIV) Angel on the Farm Psalm 103:20 (NIV); Isaiah 55:11 (NIV); Romans 10:13 (KJV) Angel in the jail cell Hebrews 13:2 (NIV); 1 Corinthians 11:24–28 (KJV) Acts 5:19 (NIV); Psalm 104:4 (KJV); Acts 12:7–11 (NIV) Angels Watching Over Me Joel 2:11 (NLV); Genesis 19:1–11 (NIV); 1 Peter 5:8 (NKJV) Joshua 1:9 (NIV) Coffee with Angels Matthew 4:11 (MSG) Songs of Angels 1 John 1:19 (NIV); Micah 7:19 (KJV); Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV) Proverbs 1:7–9 (KJV) Revelation 5:11 (NIV); Luke 22:42 (KJV); Luke 2:13–14 (NIV) Ministering Spirits Hebrews 1:7–14 (NIV) Angel and the horse Psalm 103:20 (NKJV) No brakes! Psalm 34:7 (NIV) The Tornado and the Angel Ephesians 2:2 (KJV); Isaiah 9:6 (KJV); John 10:10

(NKJV); Psalm 91 (KJV) Isaiah 59:19 (NKJV) Revealing Dreams Revelation 22:6 (NIV); Matthew 2:13,19 (NIV); Daniel 7:1 (NKJV) More For Us Than Against Us 2 Kings 6:16 (NIV); Matthew 12:43–45 (KJV); 1 Peter 5:8–9 (KJV); Nehemiah 8:10 (NIV); Isaiah 14:12–15 (KJV); Revelation 12:7–9 (NIV); Jeremiah 33:3 (NKJV) Daniel 10:12–13 (AMP); 2 Kings 6:15–17 (AMP); 1 John 4:4 (KJV); Ephesians 2:10 (KJV); Hebrews 12:2 (NIV) Philippians 1:6 (NIV); Revelation 5:11–12 (EXP) Great a Cloud of Witnesses Hebrews 12:1 (NIV); Fruit of the Spirit: Galatians 5:22; James 5:16 (KJV); Luke 15:14; Romans 8:28 (NIV); Jeremiah 29:11–13 (AMP); Zechariah 4:6 (NKJV); Philippians 4:13 (NIV) Hebrews 12:1 (KJV); 1 John 1:9 (NIV); Hebrews 4:12 The brunette, the blonde, and the redhead James 4:7 (NIV); Luke 7:22–23 (NKJV); James 1:19–20 (NIV); Psalm 118:24 (NLV); Luke 13:34; Psalm 100:4 (KJV); 2 Chronicles 12:4 (NKJV); Matthew 5:6 (KJV); James 1:12–14 (AMP) The Armor of God Ephesians 6:10–20 (EXP); Exodus 17:8–13 (NIV); Matthew 12:43–49 (NKJV); Ezekial 33:3 (NIV); Daniel 7:6–7 (AMP); Daniel 11:24–38 (AMP); John 4:24 (NIV); Daniel 12:1 (EXP) Test the spirits 1 John 4:1 (NIV); Luke 15:10 (NKJV); James 4:7 (NIV); 2 Corinthians 11:14–15 (NIV); Romans 8:18 (KJV) The Trumpet Matthew 24:31 (NKJV); Psalm 23:1 (KJV); Matthew 21:16 (KJV); Revelation 8:13, 9:1–12 (NIV); Daniel 12:1 (NKJV) WOE Revelation 9:1–2 (NIV); Genesis 1:14 (NLV); Matthew 19:4–6 (NIV) There’s a Snake! Isaiah 30:21 (KJV); Genesis 2:16–17 (KJV) Genesis 3:1–6 (TDS); Revelation 12:3–4 (NIV); I John 2:16 (NIV); Genesis 3:12–24 (EXP); 1 Samuel 17:46–48 (AMP); 1 John 4:4 (KJV); Proverbs 16:7 (NIV); Hebrews 12:2 (KJV); Matthew 19:26 ((NKJV) Stoke the Fire 2 Timothy 1:6–7 (NIV); Ephesians 6:4 (NLV); James 1:19 (NLV); Proverbs 15:1 (NIV); Psalm 107 (NAS); 2 Timothy 1:12 (NKJV); Hebrews 4:12

(KJV) The Final Fight Exodus 14:14 (KJV); Hebrews 11:1 (NIV); Mark 11:12–25 (EXP); 2 Timothy 4:2 (NIV); 1 Peter 3:15 (EXP); Colossians 4:6 (NIV); Matthew 6:9–13 (KJV); Psalm 91:1 (KJV); James 1:2–8 (NIV); 2 Corinthians 10:3–5 (AMP); Romans 1:17 (KJV); Matthew 28:18 (NKJV); Matthew 28:19– 20 (NIV); Matthew 10:16 (NIV); Luke 10:19 (NIV); Isaiah 59:19 (NKJV); Revelation 12:10 (NIV); Matthew 24:3–14 (NKJV); 2 Timothy 3:1–5 (KJV); 2 Chronicles 7:14 (KJV); Joel 2:28–32 (KJV); 1 Corinthians 9:25–27 (NIV); Jude 24–25 (AMP); Revelation 1:6 (KJV); Romans 11:5 (KJV); Joel 3:14 (KJV); 2Timothy 2:15 (NKJV); 1 Timothy 6:12 (NIV); Ephesians 1:19–22 (EXP); Hebrews 11:33–35 (NIV); Ephesians 5:15–17 (EXP); James 4:8 (NKJV); 1 Peter 1:12 (NIV); Matthew 5:16 (NIV); 2 Timothy 2:1–7 (AMP); 2 Timothy 4:6–8 (KJV); Matthew 25:23 (NIV);

Discerning of Demons: Know Your Enemy

Death and Disease

Distractions and Disturba

Abortion, Affliction, AIDS,

Accusation, Addiction, A

Aggravation, Alcoholism,

Annoyance, Anorexia, Ne

Anemia, Atomic bomb

Antichrist, Astrology, Ath

Bacillus, Bronchitis,

Bewilderment, Bitterness

Bubonic Plague

Bloodline, Curse, Burden

Cancer, Catastrophe,

Calamity, Chaos, Conform

Contamination,

Complacence, Contempt,

Coronavirus, COVID-19

Corruption

Diabetes,

Debauchery, Decadence,

Dependency,

Disaster, Despise, Dispute

Depression

Drunkenness

Epidemic,

Egotism, Embarrassment,

Ebola, Epilepsy

Evil, Evolution, Exaspera

Fever,

Failure, Faithlessness, Fa

Flu

Fatigue, Fear, Fortune-tel Free Mason

Genocide

Generational Curse, Gloo

Hades, Hell, HIV,

Habit, Harassment, Heavi

Homicide, Holocaust, Hunger,

Hedonist, Hindrance, Hop

Illness, Infection,

Idiocy, Idleness, Idolatry,

Infirmity,

Imitation, Impatient, Imp

Infliction

Incantation, Insidious, Ins

Jaundice

Juvenile Delinquent

Killing

Kleptomania

Leukemia,

Languish, Lawlessness, L

Lyme, Lymphoma,

Loathing, Lukewarm, Lun

Lying Malaria, Malnutrition,

Madness, Malevolent, Me

Measles, Meningitis,

Meddle, Menace, Mercile

Murder

Mislead, Misguide, Mysti

Nuclear Weapons,

Necromancy, Nervousnes

Intent

Neurosis New Age,

Outbreak

Obsession, Objection, Oc

Overdose

Oppression, Opposition, O

Pandemic Pestilence

Paganism, Palm reading,

Pretense Plague Pneumonia

Pantheism, Paranoia, Perd

Poison Polio

Pernicious, Persecution, P

Pollution

Polytheism, Paralysis, Pre

Quincy

Quandary, Quarrel, Queas

Rabies, Relapse,

Racism, Rebellion, Reckl

Resentment, Rickets, Rheumatism,

Resistance, Ridicule, Rut Rubella

Retaliation, Revenge, Rio

Sclerosis, Scoliosis

Sadness, Sadism, Satanic

Scandal, Scrofula, Seizure, Shingles, Selfish, Scoff, Scorn, Scuffle, Secular, Sickness, Small Pox, SIDS, Sinfulness,

Slander, Squander, Stagna

STDs,

Shame, Slumber, Sorcery

Suicide

Sting Stress, Spiritual Wi

Terminal Tragedy

Terror, Torment, Trial, Tr

Tuberculosis, Tumor

Transgression, Trauma

Typhoid

Trickery, Trifle

Ulcer

Uneasiness, Unholy, Unla

Unbelieving

Unloving, Upheaval

Venereal, Venom

Vanity, Vengeance, Vile, V

Virus

Virulent, Voodoo

War, West Nile Virus

Warlock, Weariness, Wicc

Whooping Cough, Wrath

Wickedness, Witchcraft, W

Xenophobia Yoga Ying Yang Zika

Zen, Zodiak

False religions and doctrines of demons: Atheism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Muslim, Islam, Mormon, Polytheism, New Ageism, Rosicrucianism, Scientology, Illuminati, Pantheism, Solipsism, Spiritualism Call ’em Out in Jesus Name!

JESUS

Above All Things, Abundant Life, Adonai, Advocate, Amazing Grace, Alpha, Anchor of my soul, Answer, Atonement, Author and Finisher of our Faith Baby born in Bethlehem, Beauty for Ashes, Bread of Life, Broken Battered Beaten and Bleeding, Bright and Morning Star Christ, Champion, Chief Cornerstone, Chosen, Comfort, Commander of the Heavenly Hosts, Counselor, Creator David’s Star, Deliverer, Destroyer of darkness El Shaddai, El, El Yon, Everlasting Father, Ever-Present Help in Time of Need Fairest of Ten Thousand Faithful and True Firstborn Among Many Brethren, Friend, Forgiveness, Fortress Fourth Man in the Fire from Everlasting to Everlasting Giver of Life, Glorious Lord, God the Son, Good Shepherd, Grace, Great High Priest, Great I Am Healer, Helper, Holy, Hope of Glory I am that I am, Immanuel, Immortal, Immovable, Infinite, Intercessor Jehovah Mekidesh, Jehovah Nissi, Jehovah Rapha, Jehovah Rohi, Jehovah Shaloam, Jehovah Tsidkinu Justification King of kings Lamb of God, Lamp, Light in the darkness, Light of the world, Life Lily of the Valley, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, Lord of lords, Love

Maker of the heavens and the earth, Majesty Man of sorrows, Master, Mediator, Messiah, Mighty God, Mighty to Save Miracle Worker Name Above All Names, Neverending, Never leave you nor forsake you, No Greater Love Obedient unto the Cross, Omega, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Omniscient, Only Begotten Son, Open Door ion, over Lamb, Potentate, Preeminent Priest, Prince of Peace, Promise Keeper, Prophet Provider Quiet Voice Rabboni, Rebuilder of broken down Walls, Redeemer, Refuge, Rest for the weary, Restorer, Resurrection and The Life Righteousness of God, Rock Root and Offspring of David, Rose of Sharon Ruler Sacrificial Lamb, Same yesterday, today, and forever, Sanctification Savior, Second Adam, Son of God, Son of Man, Strength, Strong Tower, Supplier of our needs, Sure Foundation, Sustainer Teacher, The Mighty God, The Resurrection, The Way The Truth and The Life, Unction, Understanding, Unfailing, Upholding all things by His Power, Unshakeable Victorious Warrior, Victory Virgin Birth Weapons of our Warfare, Way Maker, Wonderful, Word of God, Worthy X Christ Yahweh, Yeshua, YVWH Zion

“Who has believed our report? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For He shall grow up before Him as a tender plant, and as a root out of dry ground. He has no form or comeliness; and when we see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him. He is despised and rejected by men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned, every one, to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth.” —Isaiah 53:1–7 (NKJV)

“These will make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them, for He is Lord of lords and King of kings; and those who are with Him are called, chosen, and faithful.” —Revelation 17:14 (NKJV)

Honorable Mentions and Other Trademarks and Copyrighted Mentions

Chapter 4: “It Is Well With My Soul” written by Horatio Spafford (1871); “Amazing Grace” written by John Newton 1772 Chapter 8: “As the Deer” written by Martin J. Nystrom (1984); IHOP; “We Exalt Thee” written by Pete Sanchez Jr. (1977); Braveheart directed by Mel Gibson; Pastor John Wallace, Blood and Fire Ministries, Dallas, TX (formerly the Father’s House in Garland, Texas) Chapter 9: First Baptist, Dallas, Texas, Criswell College, Dallas Life Foundation, Pastor Bobby Worthington, Bogdan Wrzenski; “Jesus Loves Me” written by Anna Bartlett Warner (1860), CiCi’s Pizza Chapter 10: Thanksgiving Square Dallas, Texas Chapter 12: MAD Magazine, Cheerwine, Best Western Chapter 13: Looney Tunes, Tasmanian devil Chapter 14: Days Inn International, Bombay Lounge, Speedway gas station, IHOP Chapter 16: “Jeckle and Hyde” written by Robert Louis Stevenson (1886); The Incredible Hulk, Marvel, creator Stan Lee; This Means War by Petra (1987); “Don’t Let Your Heart Be Hardened” by Petra (1987); Pastor Carl Williams, Lighthouse Pentecostal Holiness Church Ft. Lawn, South Carolina; Trinity Pentecostal Holiness Church Lancaster, South Carolina; Reverend Billy Graham, The Ten Commandments; “Just As I Am” written by Charlotte Elliott (1835); “I Surrender All” written by Judson W. Van DeVenter (1896) Chapter 17: Ramada, Comfort Inn, Choice Privilege Program, Coleman, University of Alabama Crimson Tide; “Roll Tide” Dennis Franchione, University of South Carolina, Gamecocks Lou Holtz, Santa Claus, Spiderman Marvel creator Stan Lee, Atlanta Falcons NFL, Carolina Panthers NFL, Gaither Trio, Gaither Vocal Band, Gaither Homecoming and Southern Favorites, The

Lone Ranger, “William Tell Overture” composed by Gioachino Rossini (1812), Grand Ole Opry, NASCAR, Forest Gump and Leiutenant Dan, “Awesome God” written by Rich Mullins (1988), Roland, Gideon’s Bible, Rocky, Perry Mason, Daisy Duke, Victoria’s Secret, “Give Thanks” written by Henry Smith (1978) Chapter 18: Steinway, Baldwin, East Nashville Magnet War Eagles, Nike, “Thank You” written by Ray Boltz (1988), “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho” written by Jay Roberts (1865), “Greater Is He” written by Lanny Wolfe (1973), “Shout to the Lord” written by Darlene Zschech (1993), “There’s Room at the Cross” written by Ira F. Stanphill (1946), “ It On” written by Kurt Kaiser (1969), Monroe Public Library Monroe, North Carolina, Apache, Cherokee, Navajo, Sioux, Dracula, Frankenstein, Mummy, Bigfoot, Count Chocula and Frankenberry Post, Western Union, Alabama versus South Carolina (Sept. 29, 2001) Chapter 19: “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” written by Doris Akers (1962); “Doxology” written by Thomas Ken (1674), “What a Mighty God We Serve” written by Eric McDaniel and John P. Kee (2002) Chapter 20: Star Wars: Phantom Menace created by George Lucas, C3-PO, Anakin Skywalker, pod races Chapter 21: Bethel Baptist Church, Pastor Joel and Sharon Rhodes, Our Daily Bread devotional, Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, Slim Jim Chapter 22: Wheeler Ranch Noonday, Texas, Kubota, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, D.A.R.T., WWE Chapter 23: Peanuts creator Charles M. Shulz, Pig Pen, Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Lucy, Linus, Schroeder, The Doctor Is In written by Maurice Berquist (1981), Agape Cleaning Service Chapter 24: Nostalgic Cafe, Little Rascal’s, Elvis Presley, I Love Lucy, Marilyn Monroe, Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, Fred and Ethel Mertz, James Dean, Marlon Brando, John Wayne, James Stewart, Judy Garland, Fred Sanford, Andy Griffith, Don Knotts, Shirley Temple, Dennis the Menace, Opie Taylor, Charlie Brown and Lucy Van Pelt, Lucy in the chocolate factory, “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” written by Doris Akers (1962), Dallas Cowboys, Washington Redskins NFL, Dawson McAllister, U-Haul, Watkins Glen Harbor Hotel, Blue Pointe Grille, Porsche, Lamborghini, Ferrari, Corvette, Camaro, El Camino, Mustang, Miata, Maserati,

Hulk, “How Great Thou Art” written by Stuart K. Hine (1949), 21 Pilots, Carhartt, BMW, Cadillac, Range Rover, Electro, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, Charlie Brown’s Christmas Special, “The Greatest Gift” written by Philip Van Doren Stern (1943), Frank Capra directed the film It’s a Wonderful Life” in 1946, George and ZuZu Bailey and Clarence, President Donald Trump, Petra, Vice President Mike Pence

About the Author

Bryan Stewart is the son of a pastor, is a husband, and is a father of three. He was born in Lancaster, South Carolina, on June 20, 1974. Born again and baptized at the age of six, he began his journey with an awareness of angels around him. Since that Easter Sunday of his salvation in 1980, Bryan then surrendered to God’s calling at a youth conference in 1988, and he has studied the Living Word for forty years. Bryan has had the honor and privilege over the years to serve as choir member, drummer, worship leader, evangelism, and youth and children’s minister at various churches as the Lord has led. Many times throughout his life, God has protected, provided, and preserved him so as to bring about His purpose and plan. His holy angels have stood guard, warned, and fought off the countless attacks of the adversary. Although unseen, their presence has been felt, heard, sensed, and revealed. Through the trials and tribulations, tests and troubles, and through every tragedy and triumph, God’s great grace has been shown. In September 1997, the Lord began blessing Bryan with songs on the piano sung by the voices of angels spontaneously, many times in the middle of the night. Made wide awake with melodies, harmonies, symphonies, songs sung over his head, Bryan would quietly slip out of bed and record what he had heard. Since that initial outpouring of 12 songs that week in September, Bryan has received over 150 songs of praise, prayer, and prophecy—songs of angels, songs from heaven. Bryan and his wife, Tammy, were paired together also in September 1997, where they began a journey of faith hand in hand and heart in heart. As his helpmate guided by the Holy Spirit and in one mind, Tammy adds vivid vision in art to complete the works as one. Together the two have raised their three beautiful blessings and now watch with joy as they produce wonderful works. Bryan and Tammy have committed their lives to seek and serve the Lord, to occupy until He comes, and to share His love and comion to those that God so chooses to place in their lives. In the first seven months of 2020, in time of peril, God has given peace. In time

of tribulation, God gives triumph to His children. When fear surrounds us, our faith keeps us steady and strong. The windows of heaven are open, and God is pouring His Spirit on all flesh. Bryan and Tammy continue together in prayer as the Lord completes the good works He began in their lives in dreams and visions and guidance by the Spirit of God Almighty. Angels Among Us is the first of seven books they have been blessed to finish.