War Room (24 page)

Jennifer raised a hand and Tony nodded to her. “It’s like when I play the piano. Every time I try not to make a mistake, I make one.”

“Exactly. Great example. With music, you hear the tune and see it on the page and you play it. You just let your hands work through it. And with our routine, you do the same thing. You jump with abandon into the middle of those two ropes swinging around you. You leap in there knowing that when you land on the floor, you’re going to hit square and bounce right back up like there are springs on the bottoms of your feet.”

Danielle and Jennifer and the rest of the team smiled ear to ear. They were drinking in his words and catching this new mind-set.

“It happens that way with turning the ropes, too,” Joy, one of the other team members, said.

“Absolutely,” Tony said. “And never think that your job is less important. Every member of the team shares an equal part in the outcome.”

There were smiles all around and Tony choked up, remembering a coach he’d had who said the same thing about a football team he’d been on in high school. The equipment manager had been a disabled kid who loved football but had no skills. He’d pick up the dirty clothes and do whatever grunt work the coach asked, and the
coach pointed him out to emphasize that everyone who contributed played a part in the team’s success.

“Here’s the other thing,” Tony said. “Sometimes you concentrate so hard, you get focused on your footwork or timing or winning and not letting the team down, and you forget we’re having fun. Guys, what we’re doing here is really fun, okay? So smile. The judges will notice. They don’t keep score on how many teeth they can see, but it will influence them, I guarantee you. A person who is happy about what they’re doing attracts attention because we all want to live that way. If they see you fully into this and smiling, everything changes. Don’t just perform a routine, let the routine perform from the inside out. And let’s show the crowd something they’ve never seen before.”

When he finished, every member of the team put a hand in and shouted their team name, “Comets!” They had been captured by every word. Even Trish smiled at the encouragement and challenge.

Tony glanced at the clock on the wall to see how much time they had left in practice. What had been a high point for his day came crashing down. How much time would he have with his daughter before the decision was made about the rest of his life? The cloud was back.

That evening, Elizabeth watched Tony rinse dishes at the sink while she placed them in the dishwasher. They had
tucked Danielle in before they tackled the dishes and Elizabeth was sure, with all the activity of the day, that she was now asleep.

In the past, the unwritten rule had been that Tony took care of the lawn, the trash, the upkeep of the cars
 
—everything outside
 
—and Elizabeth took care of the inside. But lately he’d taken a more active role in everything from dishes to vacuuming. He’d even suggested that since she was the one with the job, he should be the one to make dinner.

“What about the laundry?” she said playfully. “As long as you’re taking over the domestic duties . . .”

“You know how I feel about the laundry,” he said. It was the first time he’d smiled all night.

When he went back to scrubbing, she studied him. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

The truth was, they were both nervous. She was just trying not to show it. “What time are you supposed to be there?” she said.

He looked out the back window as if he were calculating his freedom by the view. “Nine o’clock.”

Tony had told her he thought he would never set foot inside Brightwell’s building again. It looked like he had one more trip up the elevator.

The doorbell rang. Elizabeth looked at the clock and then back at Tony. Strange. It was late and they weren’t expecting anyone.

She followed as Tony opened the door to find Coleman Young standing on their front porch. He wore a sport coat and had a serious look on his face.

“Coleman?”

“Hello, Tony.” He looked at her. “Hi, Elizabeth.”

“Hi, Coleman, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” There was something in his voice that didn’t sound quite right. He looked straight at Tony. “I know this is unexpected, but I wondered if you might give me a few minutes to talk?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said. “Come on in.”

Elizabeth sat by Tony and they both faced Coleman, the last person on earth either one of them thought would be sitting in their living room. She pulled her hair back and took a deep breath, praying silently as she did.
Lord Jesus, help me to accept whatever it is Coleman has to say.

Tony wondered if they should offer Coleman something to drink. Maybe tea or decaf. A glass of water with some kind of powder in it to make the man see Tony’s situation.

Coleman spoke before he could offer anything. “Tony, I’ve been thinking about your visit. In fact, it’s probably all I’ve thought about the past two days.” He clasped his hands in front of him and spoke with an even, measured voice. “What you did was wrong. And I was disappointed. But we’ve fired salesmen before and life goes on. Then you showed back up. And I’ve never seen anybody do what you
did. I’ve never seen a man take total responsibility for his wrongdoing, no matter the consequence.”

As he continued, Coleman’s voice seemed to get softer, his eyes showing concern and also a desire to understand. “I kept asking myself why. Why would you do that?”

The question hung there between the three of them. Tony wanted to shout, to jump in and explain again, but his heart was beating so fast he could barely control his own breathing. He felt Elizabeth right beside him, hanging on every word Coleman spoke.

“The only answer I could come up with is that you are sincere in your desire to make it right. And that you do regret what you have done. So I have chosen to believe you. I can’t give you your job back. But I’ve decided not to prosecute.”

Tony could hardly breathe, hardly think about what Coleman had just said. His soul felt numb while at the same time joyous and grateful. Tears formed in his eyes and he tried to control them, fight them, but there was no fighting now, only joy
 
—unspeakable, inexpressible joy leaking through every part of him.

He looked down, trying to form some kind of response. He glanced at Elizabeth, who looked like she was in a state of wide-eyed shock.

“I do think it would be appropriate to return the nineteen thousand to the company.”

Tony nodded, finding his voice for the first time. “We’ve already decided to do that.”

A smile crept across the man’s face. “Well, if you’re willing to sign an agreement to that effect, I think we should all move on.”

The tension in the room had lifted, and Tony felt Elizabeth take his arm.

“So if you don’t mind me seeing myself out, I’ll give you your evening back.”

Tony and Elizabeth shook the man’s hand and whispered their thanks, unable to say much else. Coleman walked down the hall and out the front door.

When it closed, Elizabeth turned toward Tony, unable to hold back the emotion.

“Tony, that was grace,” she said, her face already streaked with tears. “That was God’s grace toward us.”

Tony looked at her, their tears flowing in a symphony now. He raised his eyes toward the ceiling and past that to some other realm he knew was there. “Thank You, Jesus.”

A few moments later he heard movement in Danielle’s room. While Elizabeth went to call Clara, Tony crept upstairs and found Danielle at the door, listening.

“Did somebody come over?” she said.

“Yes, sweetie. Let’s get back to bed.”

She yawned and crawled under the covers, and Tony tucked her in again. Then a look of concern came over her.

“Was it the police? Are they going to take you away?”

He smiled and the emotion was still there. “It was a man from the company, Mr. Young. He wanted us to know he accepted my apology.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he did. He said there isn’t going to be any police officer and there’s not going to be any jail.”

“Oh, Daddy.” Danielle sat up and hugged him, and it felt like God Himself had given Tony an embrace.

Elizabeth found Tony sitting in bed after she hung up with Clara. She asked Tony about Danielle and he explained their conversation, tears coming to his eyes.

She covered her mouth, again too overcome to believe what had happened to them. “That Clara must have awakened the whole neighborhood. I’ve never heard a woman her age talk so much about kicking Satan’s butt.”

Tony laughed. “She’s not just talking about it, she’s doing it.”

Elizabeth sat on the bed and stared at her closet. “This is going to take some time getting used to.”

“What’s that?”

“Forgiveness. Grace. I mean, it’s one thing to hear it from Coleman. It’s another thing to believe it and act on it.”

“It’s the same with Coleman as it is you and me,” Tony said.

“What do you mean?”

“I keep waiting for you to jump on me for something I forgot to do. Hearing the old voices, the old patterns. Forgiveness is a two-way street, you know?”

She nodded. “We have a long way to go, Tony. But we’re headed in the right direction, don’t you think?”

He nodded and the way he looked at her brought up feelings she’d lived without for a long time. He held out a hand and she took it and climbed under the covers. He reached for the light and the room went dark.

Tony leaned close and whispered, “You want to pray?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, we can start with prayer.”

Tony slid his arms around her and pulled her close, then prayed softly, praising and thanking God for His mercy, His forgiveness, and His intervention in their lives. He also thanked God for a wife who was willing to fight for him. Elizabeth tightened her embrace, agreeing with every word. When he finished, Tony kissed her. Slowly and tenderly. And she kissed him back.

For the first time in forever, the connection that had been absent returned. They enjoyed a closeness that had been missing far too long. Sweet and loving. Passionate and fulfilling. God had brought them together again. And it was beautiful.

Clara believed that praising God
was not a part-time proposition. It was full-time with benefits. Praise was part of the muscle memory of her spiritual life. She praised God for the good things that came her way and thanked Him for the things she didn’t understand because she knew from experience that He was working in both cases. God was always working and always deserved praise.

Some, of course, saw this as wishful thinking and letting God off the hook, but Clara had read about people who had suffered great injustice and still gave glory to God. The people who loved Jesus and had followed Him stood at a hill outside of Jerusalem. As lightning flashed and blood
poured from the sinless Son of God, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. At that spot on the planet, on that day in history, God put to rest the question of whether or not He was worthy of praise for the good and the bad because He took the worst thing to ever happen and turned it into the best thing. He snatched victory from the enemy and provided salvation for anyone who would call on the name of the Lord.

Giving thanks in every circumstance, for Clara, meant saying to God that she was willing to look at things from His perspective. Giving praise was freeing herself from having to understand everything. She could surrender it all.

When she got the call from Elizabeth about Coleman Young’s decision regarding Tony, she felt like she could have flown to the moon. There would be no prison, no stain on Tony’s record, and he would be able to continue living with his family and growing in grace and paying back his debt.

Clara threw her hands up and thanked God with a whoop that should have awakened any sleeping angel for a billion miles. She didn’t know if angels slept, but she did know that angels rejoiced when a sinner repented. She marched to her war room and put a check beside that request, gave another whoop, and praised God again.

Praising God did something to her heart nothing else could. She had read Psalm 22, which said God was “enthroned on the praises of Israel.” She believed that God drank her praises in and enjoyed her whoops of joy.
But the benefits weren’t just for Him
 
—they extended to her. When she praised God, she agreed with Him that He alone was worthy and she was not. He alone was in control and she was not. He alone deserved the credit, and He alone was holy. So praise was a humbling act. And the more she humbled herself, the more peace washed over her. She didn’t worry and fret when she told God the truth about Himself. When she reminded God of who He was, she was reminding herself about the truth. And when she did that, she was no longer wrapped up and tied in knots with what the enemy wanted.

“Let us exalt His name together.”
Those words were a recipe for joy. She wanted that joy to spill from her life on everyone she contacted.

“Lord, I thank You that this kind of praise will never end. Praising You is something we’ll be doing forever! That’s what I want to do. I want to praise You with every breath and every prayer and every heartbeat until I see You face-to-face. I want to praise You for the way You’re changing me from the inside out and the way You’re changing Elizabeth and Tony. And with all the bad stuff going on in the world, the wars and killing and injustice, I’m going to praise You.

“A body can’t lose when they praise You, Lord. Hallelujah!”