The Iron Wagon (15 page)

Making his way back down the steps, Wayne said, “Thank you, sir.” Then he rounded the corner of the building and headed in the direction of the pastor’s office.

The next morning at Denver’s First Baptist Church, Pastor Robert Bayless was in his office with his wife when there was a knock at the door.

Mary was on a wooden chair in front of the desk. The pastor had a copy of the day’s issue of the
Rocky Mountain News
in his hand. Laying it on the top of the desk, he rose from his chair. “I’ll see who this is, honey.”

Mary turned on the chair to watch as her husband opened the door, and her expression brightened as she saw who it was. Brent Duran, one of Robert’s “preacher boys.” Brent had surrendered to preach under his ministry some seven years previously, and after graduating from Bible college, had been sent out by the First Baptist Church of Denver to start a new church, the First Baptist Church of Central City.

In the nearly four years of the church’s existence, it had grown well under Pastor Duran’s ministry. Pastor Bayless had performed the wedding for Brent and a lovely young lady of Denver’s First Baptist Church named Marcia Jones immediately after Brent’s graduation from Bible college.

By the first look at Brent’s face when he opened the door, Robert could tell that he was upset. “Brent, it’s good to see you! Come in.”

Brent stepped in, his features pinched, and as they moved together to where Mary was now standing, Robert said, “Brent, you look troubled. Is something wrong?”

The young preacher ran his gaze to Mary, then back to Pastor Bayless. “Do you two know about the cave-in at the Central City gold mine?”

Pastor Bayless stepped around his desk and picked up the day’s issue of the
Rocky Mountain News
. “We just received today’s newspaper from the delivery man. We had only seen the headlines about the cave-in.”

“Please go ahead and read it aloud to Mrs. Bayless, Pastor. Then I’ll fill you in on some things.”

Robert nodded, then turned to Mary. “Honey, sit back down on the chair. Brent, have a seat on the one next to it.”

When the two had eased onto the wooden chairs, Robert sat on his desk chair, opened the newspaper, turned to page three, and read the cave-in story aloud. He and Mary learned quickly what had happened at the mine and that all six of the miners who were working in the section that had collapsed were killed.

Pastor Bayless shook his head in sadness. “This is really a tragedy.”

“It sure is.” Mary nodded.

“Two of the miners who were killed were members of our church …” Brent faltered briefly. “Charles Fawley, whose wife’s name is Grace, and a single man named Ed Stubler.”

“Oh my!” Mary gasped, her eyes wide.

“Let me tell you about these two men,” said Brent. “Charles
Fawley had been witnessing to Ed Stubler on the job, and on Sunday morning, June 16, brought him to church. Ed Stubler walked the aisle at the invitation, was led to the Lord by one of our counselors, and I had the privilege of baptizing him.”

“Well, amen!” Pastor Bayless said with a wide smile.

“Yes, amen!” said Mary. “How wonderful it is that Charles had been instrumental in bringing Ed to the Lord and now they’re together in heaven!”

“That’s wonderful, all right,” Pastor Brent Duran agreed. “I might add that both Charles and Grace Fawley were saved under my preaching, in the same service, just over a year ago. Grace is expecting their first child, which is due to be born in about a month. Of course, she is terribly torn up over her husband’s death.”

“Oh, bless her heart,” said Mary. “I can understand that.”

“Marcia has her at the parsonage right now. I know the Lord will use her to give Grace comfort, strength, and courage.”

“I’m sure He will, Brent,” Pastor Bayless said.

Brent looked at his mentor. “Do you remember when Wally and Linda Higgins brought Wally’s uncle, Wayne Shelby, to church with them?”

Pastor Bayless nodded. “I sure do. Wally’s atheist uncle works at the Central City gold mine. Chief Brockman was preaching for me that morning. The Brockmans, the Higginses, Mary and I, and the whole church have been praying for Wayne’s salvation.”

A smile spread over Brent’s features. “I brought up Wayne Shelby just now because I have something wonderful to tell you.”

Pastor Bayless’s eyes widened. “Are you going to tell us that Wayne Shelby isn’t an atheist anymore? That he is—”

“Your brother in Christ!” cut in Brent.

“Oh, glory!” gasped Pastor Bayless.

“Double
‘oh, glory’!” shouted Mary. “Tell us about it. You’re brightening our day.”

“Well, late yesterday afternoon, Wayne came to my office at the church shortly after the cave-in at the mine. Of course, I didn’t know who he was. We had never met. Wayne told me that he had been working in that precise section of the mine that collapsed and would have been killed along with those six men, except for something that happened to him earlier that day.”

“What was it?” Mary asked, eager to hear how God’s hand had been working on the atheist who had so many Christians praying for him.

Brent explained what happened to Wayne.

“Oh,” Pastor Bayless said. “Sure sounds to me like the Lord was working in answer to a lot of people’s prayers.”

“For sure.” Brent grinned. “From what Wayne told me when we began talking in my office, I saw clearly that the Scriptures on salvation, heaven, and hell that Shelby had heard Chief Brockman preach and the additional Scriptures that Chief Brockman had given him when they were talking after church had been driven deep into his heart and mind by the Holy Spirit. Without a doubt, the painful burn on his leg frightened him even more about burning in hell.”

Pastor Bayless clapped. “Wow! Praise the Lord! He knows how to get to an atheist’s heart and mind, doesn’t He?”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Mary. “Sounds like that man really and truly got saved.”

“Amen, ma’am,” said Brent. “And I’m going to baptize him during the midweek service this evening.”

“Hallelujah!” Pastor Bayless said, his eyes sparkling with joy.

“I was just thinking,” said Mary. “This is a wonderful illustration of how God uses some people to plant the seed of the Word and others to bring in the harvest.”

“Right!” both men said in unison.

Mary smiled. “Luke 8:11 says, ‘The seed is the word of God.’ Mark 4:14 says, ‘The sower soweth the word.’ First Peter 1:23 says, ‘Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.’ Chief Brockman planted the seed of the Word in Wayne Shelby’s heart, and you brought in the harvest, Brent.”

Pastor Duran blinked at the tears filling his eyes. “How wonderful it is, the way almighty God produced the seed of the Word and allows His born-again people to use it to bring lost souls to salvation and to bring glory to the wonderful Saviour, our dear Lord Jesus Christ, both by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

Brent pulled a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped away the tears from his eyes and cheeks. “My mind has gone to the widowed Grace Fawley again. It’s going to be so hard for her when the baby is born, with its father dead. She needs lots of prayer.”

“That’s for sure,” said Pastor Bayless. “Mary and I sure will be praying for her. And I will put her on the prayer list at our church too.”

Mary’s gentle eyes misted with tears. “Oh, the poor young lady. Whatever will she do with no husband to provide for her and her dear wee one?”

Pastor Robert shook his head and ran a palm over his face. “There certainly is very little work for a woman in the gold mining business. Just a few secretarial positions in their business office, and even less of an opportunity to do that for one carrying a baby. Maybe I’ll suggest to her that she try to come to Denver to live. Her chances of finding some suitable employment and someone to care for her baby when she is working would be far greater in a city the size of Denver than in Central City.”

“Makes sense, Pastor,” said Brent.

“Tell you what, Brent,” said Pastor Bayless. “Mrs. Fawley doesn’t know me. Instead of my making the suggestion to her, how about you doing it?”

“I’ll try.”

Pastor Bayless nodded. “If you can persuade her to come to Denver, tell her that Mary and I would like to talk to her. Perhaps we can come up with some sort of plan that would be beneficial for her and the baby.”

“We will sure try,” Mary added.

“Thanks to both of you,” said Brent. “As I told you, Grace is with Marcia at the parsonage right now. I’m sure Marcia will agree with your thoughts on this. We will do our best to see that Grace comes to Denver. That’s really the only answer for someone in her circumstances.”

Brent rose to his feet. “I need to be going. I had actually
come to Denver today to buy a new dress for Marcia for her birthday, which is coming up in a few days. But I did plan to stop and see the two of you while I was here.”

The Baylesses also stood, and Robert said, “Before you go, Brent, I would like for us to pray for Grace Fawley.”

Brent smiled. “Yes! Will you lead us, Pastor?”

The three of them bowed their heads and closed their eyes. With compassion in his voice, Pastor Bayless prayed for Grace, that the Lord would give the new young widow peace and comfort in her husband’s death and would help her in a special way when it came time to give birth to her baby. He then asked the Lord to provide a way for Mrs. Fawley to have an income for her and the baby and to give them a place to live in Denver.

When the prayer was finished, Brent put his arms around Pastor Robert and Mary, hugged them, and told them he loved them. Then he hurried off on his shopping errand.

Mary sighed. “Oh, darling, my heart goes out to that dear Grace Fawley and her fatherless babe. I didn’t think to ask Brent about any family she might have somewhere who could help her. But I’m sure if she did, Brent would know about them. We really must do something to help her.”

“We will, my dear,” said Robert. “The Lord will open the way for us to help her and supply whatever the need so we can do it. We only need to pray and believe, for we know that He is faithful.”

A
t the federal building, chief U.S. marshal John Brockman was at his desk in his office, reading the
Rocky Mountain News
story of the cave-in that had happened at the Central City gold mine the day before, when his deputy on duty at the front desk, Darrell Dickson, knocked on the door.

The chief laid the newspaper on his desk. “Come in, Darrell!”

Dickson opened the door and stepped in a few inches. “Chief, there’s a man here from Central City who would like to see you. His name is Wayne Shelby.”

At the mention of that name, there was a thoughtful creasing of John’s brow, followed by a thin smile. Though a bit stunned, the chief rose to his feet, wondering if the atheist’s visit had something to do with the cave-in at the mine, where he was employed.

Darrell frowned. “By the look on your face, Chief, you must know him.”

John nodded. “I do. Send Mr. Shelby in.”

As Darrell stepped back into the hall to invite Shelby into the chief’s office, John rounded his desk and took a few steps toward the door. He motioned for the miner to enter. After Shelby stepped into John’s office, the deputy closed the door, leaving the two men alone.

Shelby’s face was pale. “Chief Brockman, I have something to tell you.”

John let a smile curve his lips. “All right.”

The miner took a nervous, shaky breath. “I am no longer an atheist.”

John’s mouth fell open. “Wonderful!”

Before the chief could ask any questions, Wayne Shelby went on. “I am now a blood-washed, born-again Christian! I have the Lord Jesus living in my heart as my Saviour!”

Pleasantly stunned, John grabbed Wayne’s right hand with his own, shook it vigorously and with his left hand, pointed at the small couch there in the office. “Sit down. I want to hear all about this.”

When they were comfortably seated, Wayne began his story. Choking up and wiping tears every few seconds, the former atheist shared with John how the thought of burning in hell forever had plagued him day and night since he heard the chief preach at Denver’s First Baptist Church.

John smiled. “I’m glad it did plague you, Wayne. I sure prayed that it would.”

Wayne smiled in return. “Thank you for praying for me.” He then mentioned the cave-in at the Central City gold mine the previous day.

“I just now read the
Rocky Mountain News
article about it,” John said, “including the names of the six men who were killed.”

Wayne nodded sadly. “Chief Brockman, I had been working with all six of those men yesterday in the very section of the mine where the cave-in took place, and if I had been there when it happened, I would have been killed too.”

“God’s hand was on you, Wayne. If you had been killed at the mine, you would be in hell right now.”

“You see, Chief, as soon as this leg was bandaged by the clinic doctor, I hurried as fast as I could to First Baptist Church to talk to the pastor about being saved.”