John sighed through his nose as he headed for the bar. Last night was severely lacking in sleep. All because of a pesky little thing called concussion. Sherlock had insisted on keeping him up for the full six hours to ensure no symptoms occurred before allowing John a chance to sleep. Meaning it wasn't until after three in the morning that John could actually go asleep. He was just grateful that Molly apparently played a part in making sure Sherlock didn't wake him up every one or two hours after that.
As it was, he was running on maybe five hours of sleep. At least the most exhausting thing he was faced with today was the train ride back to London. He ordered an English breakfast, at least the vegetarian version, requesting to have it outside. He then stepped out into the clear, country air.
"Hey, John," Greg said.
"Hey," John returned. "Crazy night, yeah?"
"Now there's an understatement," Greg said, sipping from a coffee mug. "Hey, um, would you feel up to talking about something? Nothing on record really."
"Sure," John said, only now picking up something different about his friend. "Let's have a seat over there."
Together they headed over to one of the picnic tables, while John tried to get a clear reading. Greg seemed nervous and uncertain while at the same time at peace and more certain than he'd ever been.
Once they were seated, John let Greg take a moment to start.
"John," Greg said, licking his lips. "Something happened last night. Something that I never expected and yet for nearly a year, you've caused me to search for it."
"What exactly?" John asked.
"Jesus," Greg answered. An answer so simple and yet so complicated. "Just before He disappeared, His eyes met mine, despite the distance between us. I clearly heard Him say, 'Follow me.'" He chuckled. "I could hardly believe it. Of course, I had to ask, 'Where?' Can you guess what He said?"
John smiled, already sensing where this was going. He could now recognize the lingering effects of a new heart and life, the very same that had nearly overwhelmed his senses last night as Henry just accepted Jesus' forgiveness and love.
"'Wherever I need you,' He said," Greg continued. "'Most important is if you'll follow Me.'"
A moment of quiet and John prompted, "And your final answer?"
Greg laughed then. "I just said, 'Yes.' My mind couldn't come up with anything else. I couldn't even promise that I'd follow Him into the very gates of Hell if He ordered me to do so. All I could answer was a single syllable word."
John chuckled. "I'm sure He saw that sentiment in your heart."
"Much like you've been able to read emotions," Greg said.
"Only infinitely better," John said. "So, you managed to make the most important decision last night, what do you need my thoughts on?"
"What do I do now?" Greg asked. "Obviously, those twelve blokes back then could actually physically follow Him, but how do I follow Him when I can't see Him?"
"Well," John said, "you can start attending church. There will be prayer meeting tonight, mostly a mid-week re-energizer of sorts. Then of course there are services Sunday morning and evening. My church also runs an excellent mentorship program for new believers."
"You're in a mentorship program?" Greg asked.
"As one of those being mentored," John answered. "I suspect I would need at least another year or two before I could properly be a mentor for someone else."
YOU ARE READING
The Question of Faith in Baskerville
General FictionIt's been nearly a year since John became a Christian. Sherlock studies his flatmate and his supposed change. It's merely a distraction between cases, and then a client offers not only an unusual case about a hound but the potential of the perfect t...
