There Must Be Something More

19 | No Doubt

That certain afternoon, I was scared. I hurried to the parking lot, to my pickup. I did not want to see anyone after the practice. Not Calum. Not Amanda. Not my baseball teammates.

Not even Meredith.

As I slid onto my driver's seat and jammed the keys to the wheel, my anxiety grew with every breath. I let the engine roar its way into my thoughts till I couldn't hear them anymore. I started to roll away from the asphalt driveway and leave the school.

I was torn. I knew I was. I wanted my friends. I wanted Meredith and to know more about her faith.

But it seemed I could not have both, and so I chose none. I wanted to forget that I had to choose. I wanted to help Meredith and hang out and just talk about God. But I also wanted to be in good terms with my old friends and tell them about God and how amazing it is to just obey Him.

Why is it so hard to do both?

I chose a different route and drove past Amazing Grace Home for Children. I could hear the kids cheering and squealing through the windows of the home. I could see their little silhouettes moving happily about. And I do remember their happy faces as I handed them those burgers and sock puppets. I do remember the feel of little arms hugging my waist and shoulders.

And I do remember the comforting feeling that it all happened because I obeyed God. That I experienced that kind of joy because I did what the Bible verse for me had said. I have never ever experienced something like it. Nor did I ever imagine myself experiencing something like it.

Who would have thought helping orphaned kids and giving away a huge amount of money from your wallet was fun?

I screeched into a halting stop as a cat crossed right across the street. I drew my breath and gripped the steering wheel tight. I looked around the highway. No one else was around.

You're not thinking straight, Charlie, I thought. Get yourself together, man!

I sighed and rested my forehead onto my knuckles on the steering wheel. I closed my eyes. I remembered my first time holding a baseball. I remembered when my dad wasn't so caught up with his job yet and still had time to play baseball with me. I remembered laughing my head off as I beat him everyday although I knew he was just letting me win. I remembered how I would run and tackle my dad to the ground just to beat him some more. I remembered his hearty laugh and feel his hand on the top of my head as he patted it.

And then I remembered talking with Meredith about happiness and joy in the library, in-between those tall shelves of books as old as time. I remembered coming to her home and eating dinner with her and her grandpa Chuck. I remembered being called her friend for the first time. I remembered the first time I saw the kids. I remembered all of it.

They all felt the same. They all felt like coming home.

Obeying God felt like coming home. Only better. And much stronger. A feeling I've never felt in my entire life, but always knew I was longing for it.

So what are you going to do now? I asked myself.

And then I realized a disappointing thing. No doubt Meredith had gone home by now. No doubt she would have thought I was a bad friend and didn't wait for me to drive her home. No doubt--

My phone rang. I looked down and realized it was a text message.

From Meredith.

Meredith: How long is that baseball practice of yours? Been waiting for hours, Mr. Charlie.

"She's been waiting for me?" I boggled. And without knowing or planning ahead, my mouth stretched in a wide grin. I decided to send a reply.

Me: Wait right there. I'm on my way.

~~~

"Wait! Wait!" I called as I jogged towards Meredith coming down the school steps.

She looked at me. She looked weary. "I thought you were never going to come."

"Your car still in repairing?" I asked.

"No," she said plainly.

My eyes grew wide. "But you waited for me. Honestly... I was on my way home... but then I got your message and..."

She grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah," I blushed. I rubbed the back of my neck. "I figured I didn't have anything else to do tonight, so why not just pick you up, right?"

She stared at me. She had a straight face. She said, "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Apology accepted."

"So, why'd you wait long for me?"

She paced in front of me. Her hands were behind her. "I want you to help me."

My shoulders sagged. "Oh, so you just needed some kind of nanny or something."

"That's what you think?" She acted horrified, hurt. "I think I need a good friend to help me with something. How does that sound?"

I felt relief. I smiled. "Better."

"Hmm-hmm," she nodded. "Well, I actually need to go to the animal shelter today to pick up my sheep."

I stared at her. I squinted hard at the statement. "Pick up your what?"

She giggled. "My sheep. Now, come on."

"Your sheep?" I asked as I followed her to my pickup.

~~~

The sheep bleated every time Meredith hugged and stroked its head. She named the animal Sheila. She giggled every time it bleated. They were instant friends.

"So let me get this straight," I said, crouching down beside her and the sheep, "you just go out on a random Wednesday night and ask a friend to come with you to the animal shelter and buy a sheep?"

"Right," she said. The sheep seemed to bleat in reply. She giggled.

"Why?" I demanded, staring at her in utter disbelief.

She stood, looked me straight this time. "Well, this adorable little girl was actually dying just a few weeks ago. The vet said I couldn't buy her until she is nursed back to health. I've been helping the nurses here until today--when she is finally well enough for me to take home!"

I stared at her.

"What?" She chuckled.

"Where are you going to put her?" I asked.

"In the backyard, of course. Along with my chickens and donkey."

I boggled. "How big is your backyard?"

"Our neighbor and I share it. They said they were willing to help me take care of my animals because my parents aren't home and grandpa sometimes likes to sleep long hours."

I smiled.

"How about you? Do you have a pet, Charlie?"

"Back when my parents weren't too busy for me, they bought me a goldfish. I loved that goldfish so much. And they always helped me take care of him. But when they got busy, they just stopped helping. I lost the will to take care of him, too. And he died."

Meredith looked at me. Then she grabbed a sticky note from her pocket, borrowed a pen from the vet. She started to write something on it.

When she was done, she handed it to me:

The righteous care for the needs of their animals, but the kindest acts of the wicked are cruel. ~Proverbs 12:10

I felt condemned, but I knew I was just being corrected with love. I looked up at her. I smiled.

"Noted," I said.