War Room (27 page)

Next, Jennifer jumped in and took his place, doing some amazing moves within the ropes. Then Tony leapfrogged into the middle and was joined by Danielle. They jumped on one leg, then the other, touching feet in the
air
 
—an incredibly difficult move they had practiced on the driveway for hours. Danielle moved out and Tony was alone again, doing a backflip that brought the crowd to their feet.

Elizabeth had watched the team practice, she’d seen Tony and Danielle on the driveway and in the garage when it rained, but she wasn’t prepared for the scene that played out in front of her. It was as if all of their work, all the pain and sweat and nervousness, coalesced into one amazing performance.

The pinnacle for her was when Tony picked Danielle up, spun her behind his back, kept jumping, and was joined by Jennifer in the middle. In the end, the ropes fell in perfect time with the music cutoff, and they stood to wild applause.

“That was good!” Clara yelled above the din. “That was real good!”

Elizabeth couldn’t hold back the emotion. This was just one more piece of evidence that God was working in Tony’s life and in their family. She knew there would be some rough roads ahead. But she wanted to bottle this feeling and keep it around to pour out every now and then.

Tony grabbed Danielle and spun her around on the court like they were doing a victory dance. It wouldn’t be long before Danielle would be walking down an aisle with him, moving on with her life. Elizabeth could see it flash
before her eyes. She didn’t want to miss anything with her family. Not one moment.

Tony put Danielle on his shoulders and she couldn’t hold back the smile. “That’s my dad!” she screamed. “That’s my dad!”

Yes, it is,
Elizabeth thought.
That is your dad.

She looked at Clara, who was taking in all the sights and sounds. “What did you think?”

Clara gave her a big grin. “I think next year you and I should be on the team.”

Tony listened to the announcer give the details of the scoring and stood with his team as the third-place winner was announced. His heart fell a little when it wasn’t the Comets. There was no way they could have scored higher than the others.

“And in second place, the Comets!” the announcer said.

Danielle turned to him with eyes and mouth wide and they floated to the center of the floor together. They took their place as a team and accepted the trophy to wild applause.

“You guys were amazing out there,” Trish said over the noise.

Each team member received a medallion and took turns holding the trophy, which would go in the community center back home. Parents took so many pictures, Tony thought smiling should be an Olympic sport. Elizabeth came down and they took a family photo.

“Miss Clara, you get in here,” Danielle said.

“No, I don’t belong with you guys,” she protested.

Tony reached out. “You belong here as much as we do.”

Tony had a lot of pictures of sporting events through the years. Memorable football games and photos snapped with celebrities. None of them compared to the feelings behind the photo with his family and Clara. He was going to keep that picture on his desk at work for a long time. Then he remembered he didn’t have a job. He decided he would frame the picture in faith, believing God was going to provide some office for him.

On the ride home, Tony asked Elizabeth if Clara had gotten home okay. “We could have given her a ride.”

“She called her son to pick her up and slipped out while we were taking pictures,” Elizabeth said. “I was hoping to meet Clyde
 
—I’ve heard so much about him.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to meet him,” Tony said.

“Hey, how about some music to celebrate?” Danielle said from the backseat.

“Got just the thing,” Tony said.

He turned on a song and the three of them danced to the beat, moving from side to side in perfect synchronization, smiling and laughing.

Elizabeth’s phone rang and she tapped Tony on the shoulder. “Hang on. Wait, you guys. This might be a buyer.” She made a silly face at him. “It’s time for my professional voice.”

From what Tony could hear, it was someone named Reverend Jones who wanted to look at a house on Monday
morning. Just when Tony’s work life had imploded, Elizabeth’s job had picked up. Instead of seeing this as threatening or feeling bad about not providing, he thanked God that Elizabeth could pick up some slack in their income.

“I’ve got somebody looking at Miss Clara’s house,” Elizabeth said when she was finished with the conversation.

“That’s awesome, baby. You should call Miss Clara right now and tell her.”

“No, I don’t want to get her hopes up yet. I just want to see how it goes.”

“Can I come with you?” Danielle said from the backseat.

“You really want to?” Elizabeth said.

“I never get to go to work with you.”

“Well, okay,” Elizabeth said, smiling.

When the car got quiet, Tony looked in the rearview mirror. “Hey, Danielle, you all right with second place?”

Her face was as bright as an angel’s. “I kind of feel like we got first place because I like being together.”

Tony smiled and looked at his wife. Danielle had said it perfectly. They were together. It had taken a lot of work, a lot of tears, a lot of turning from how he’d always lived, and a lot of jumping rope, but they were together.

Tony had always measured success in the amount of money he made or how fast he could run compared with everyone else. He’d always measured success in numbers or crushing an opponent and coming out on top. For the first time in his life, he felt like being together was better than any other feeling on earth. Success wasn’t about numbers
because those numbers could be taken away. And the fact that he was part of the team and they were moving forward side by side was better than any amount of money, any medal or trophy, or any praise he’d ever received.

Success wasn’t about anything someone could give you or that you could earn. It was about allowing God to work in and through your life. And that meant the good stuff and the bad could be used for His glory.

Tony turned up the music and the three of them danced and sang the rest of the way home. Together.

Clara parked at the cemetery
and took the long walk to Leo’s grave. She thought about the pastor who had said, “A lot of people don’t pray because they don’t believe it works. But unfortunately it doesn’t work because we don’t really pray.” She knew he was right. And she was always surprised what she learned about wisdom and understanding when she spent time praying.

“Leo, the Lord is moving. In Elizabeth’s life and Tony’s. In Hallie’s life. I wish you could have heard what she said to me the other day about how handsome you looked in your uniform. She’s right
 
—you were handsome.”

She ran her hand along the smooth stone and thought
about her spiritual life and how she had never arrived at a destination. As soon as she’d gotten comfortable in some spot, the Lord had shaken her and moved her closer. That was no doubt in order to make her more like Jesus and conform her to His image. And the thing before her that was shaking her was the sale of her home.

“Leo, once I decided to move, I asked God to make the transition go smoothly. Now Elizabeth has been concerned and I’ve told her that God was going to work things out, but I’ll admit to being a little discouraged. Even though I realize God brought Elizabeth into my life through this whole experience. I’ve thanked Him for that. But I don’t understand why nobody seems to think our house is worth the investment. We’ve taken good care of the place. Elizabeth says it has curb appeal, whatever that is. I’m still flying Old Glory on the front porch
 
—you would be proud of that flag.

“Here in the last few days I’ve kind of changed up my prayer, though. I was asking God to bring the right people along. But now I’m praying that God will bring someone to it so He can bless them.

“The other day I was reading the Eighty-seventh Psalm, looking at different translations of the same thing, and right at the end I read, ‘My whole source of joy is in you.’ I started meditating on that. Now the writer of that was talking about Zion, about the City of God. But I don’t think it does too much damage to say that God Himself is our source of joy. You know how many times I’ve read
the Bible cover to cover. And I believe there is no lasting joy outside of God’s goodness. But when I read that verse, I saw something different. I was so focused on my house and getting it sold and helping out Elizabeth and her family with the commission she’d get that I forgot to pray for the
people
who would inhabit my new home.

“So right there I told God that He was my joy, He was my hope, He was my inheritance, and that I wanted to wait upon Him and His timing. And then I went to prayer for the family that would come along one day and see the house. I prayed, ‘Lord, I want there to be a light in this neighborhood that comes in here and lives. I ask You to bring some believer to this home, Lord. I ask for someone on fire for You. Would You draw some Spirit-filled follower of Yours here so that You might bless them with this home?’

“I began to pray for that family like a father will pray for a godly man for his daughter. And I threw out some specifics to Him. You know I believe God loves to answer specific prayers, not the vague ones. So I prayed the people who came along would be godly and strong in the Lord. I prayed that there would be some kind of military connection, that somebody who had a love for the men and women who serve our country would take up residence. I asked that they have young children or grandchildren who could enjoy the big backyard that’s been sitting there waiting for little children to come along. And I prayed that God would bring them this week, if it was His will, and that they would see it and fall in love with it just like I did.

“Leo, sometimes I get up from my prayer time and have this warm feeling like God is smiling, like He enjoys the time we spend together even more than I do. Other times I don’t get a feeling and I just take it on faith that God heard every word I prayed and that He is guiding and leading me. But that day
 
—it was yesterday
 
—I had the sense that I’d broken through . . . or that He had broken through to me. And now it’s up to Him to work, and me to wait on Him.”

Elizabeth had never taken Danielle
to a house showing and knew that it wasn’t common practice or “professional.” But since the client was a pastor, she felt like the man would understand. She gave her daughter instructions about what to do and what not to do while she walked through the home. “Just sit quietly in Miss Clara’s living room while I give them the tour.”

Monday morning Danielle was up early, ate her breakfast, showered, dressed, and had her hair ready by 8:00. Elizabeth stopped by the office before meeting her client, and Danielle spoke to Mandy and Lisa.

“How did the double Dutch competition go?” Mandy said.

“We got second place,” Danielle said. “And you should have seen my dad. He did flips and twirled me behind his back.”

Mandy applauded. “I wish I could have been there.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Sounds like things with Tony are better?”

“Better than better,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

Usually Elizabeth liked to drive a client in her own car and take them from one showing to another, but since the reverend only wanted to look at one house, they met at Clara’s. He drove an older car that she guessed had a lot of miles on it, given the wear on the tires. He parked a little close to the fire hydrant, but she decided not to say anything.

She estimated Reverend Jones to be in his sixties and his wife to be about the same. She was pretty and greeted Elizabeth warmly. She made such a fuss over Danielle, and Reverend Jones got down on one knee and spoke to her, asking questions about school. He had to hear all about the double Dutch competition.

“I have a granddaughter about your age,” he said. “We’ll have to get her into that double Dutch thing of yours.”

“Maybe she can be on my team!” Danielle said.

Reverend Jones walked down the sidewalk and peeked over the fence. “This backyard would be a great place for the grandkids. We could have picnics every Sunday afternoon.”

They walked inside and Danielle skipped ahead,
running for the stairs. Elizabeth gave her a look and she obediently went to the living room and sat.

“How did you find out about the house?” Elizabeth said.

Mrs. Jones got a sly look her face and glanced at her husband. “He was doing one of his prayer drives.”

“Prayer drives?”

“I talk to the Lord while we’re driving around a neighborhood. Praying for the people we know, the needs that are all around. And since we were looking for a place to move, I thought we’d just drive through a few areas and see if anything stood out to us. The flag out front was the first thing I saw.”

“Well, let me show you around. Would you like to start down here, go upstairs?”

“Lead the way,” Reverend Jones said.

“This is such a unique property,” Elizabeth said. “It was built in 1905 but updated several times. The widow that just moved out had been here fifty years. And let me tell you, she is an amazing lady.”

“You don’t see this kind of woodwork much anymore,” Reverend Jones said, walking through the entry. He ran a hand along the wooden railing, admiring the craftsmanship, then glanced up. “Now right up there it looks like they had some work done. Some kind of patchwork to the ceiling.”

Elizabeth smiled. “My client has a son who was rather rambunctious evidently. I never found out what happened, but Clyde was the one who made the hole and they had to repair it. That can be refinished, of course, if it’s an issue.”

“We have a son of our own who was like that,” Mrs. Jones said, laughing. “He was built to tear things down, I think. Good thing he went into the military. Now it’s a full-time job.”

“Where’s he stationed?”

“He’s in Afghanistan,” Reverend Jones said proudly. “We pray for him every day.”

“The owner of the house
 
—her husband was in the military as well.”

“I wondered when I saw the flag out front,” the man said. “My son’s in the Army, so that definitely caught our attention.”

“Well, let me take you upstairs,” Elizabeth said. She and Mrs. Jones walked ahead as the reverend slowly took in everything. Elizabeth knew that one of the good signs of any home buyer was when they started picturing themselves in the house, where their belongings would go and who would sleep where. She wanted to give as much information as they needed without overloading them. Just let them breathe and feel the house.

“I love these old houses,” Mrs. Jones said. “So much character.”

“Oh, I agree. I’ll show you the master bedroom.”

They walked into the room and Reverend Jones kept to himself, thinking, looking around. Elizabeth wondered if he was that quiet in the pulpit.

She led Mrs. Jones toward the bathroom. “Well, the master bath was updated recently, but she kept the original
tub. And all the tiles are brand-new. You know, I think this is best of all
 
—the floor is original hardwood.”

“I love hardwood floors,” Mrs. Jones said.

“You know what’s also great is that the neighborhood is mature, it’s established, so it has that quiet feeling.”

Elizabeth looked back to see Reverend Jones in Clara’s closet. The papers had all been taken off the walls. The little window looked out on the backyard, but he didn’t seem interested in the view. She found it so curious that the man was so taken with the closet. She’d shown a lot of houses, but this was a first.

“How long have you guys been in ministry?” Elizabeth said.

“Charles pastored the same church for thirty-five years,” Mrs. Jones said. “We loved it, but we knew it was time for a change. And we wanted to be near our kids and grandkids, to help mentor them.”

Reverend Jones walked back into the closet. Mrs. Jones glanced at him. Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Charles, what are you doing?”

The man backed out of the closet like he’d been in a holy of holies, then turned to them and pointed behind him. “Someone’s been praying in this closet.”

Elizabeth hadn’t told them anything about Clara’s war room. She stared at the man. “That’s right. That was her prayer closet. How did you know that?”

The man thought a moment. “It’s almost like it’s baked in.”

Reverend Jones looked at his wife and something
passed between the two of them. Something that only years together and a strong marriage could create
 
—this bond that helped them know each other’s hearts. Mrs. Jones smiled at him and nodded. They didn’t communicate words with those looks but sentences
 
—paragraphs.

“Ma’am,” Reverend Jones said, “we’ll take the house.”

Elizabeth looked at Mrs. Jones and they both smiled. She’d never had a situation like this. It was usually several days of showing home after home, then coming back and looking for the second or third time until one rose to the top. This was unprecedented. Within ten minutes of walking in the front door, they were ready to make an offer.

They stood in Clara’s dining room, where Elizabeth had poured out her heart so often. This room had her tears baked in. Danielle walked in and Mrs. Jones hugged her.

“We’re going to buy a house from your mom,” the woman said.

Danielle’s eyes grew wide. “But, Mom, you said people never buy houses on the first day they look.”

Elizabeth looked sheepishly at her clients. “Well, I’ve never met a couple like this.”

They drove to the realty office and the couple signed the contract. When they were finished, Elizabeth said she would present the offer in person and get back to them as soon as she had an answer.

Reverend Jones took Elizabeth’s hand before they left. “I can tell this client of yours has made a big impression on your life.”

“More than you’ll ever know,” Elizabeth said.

She hurried to Clara’s son’s house to tell the woman the good news. A man wearing glasses opened the door.

“Well, hello, come on in,” he said with a slight drawl. “You must be Elizabeth.”

“Yes, thank you,” she said. There was something familiar about his face
 
—and not just the pictures she had seen on Clara’s mantel. She tried to connect the dots but had a hard time.

“Hey there, young lady,” the man said to Danielle, smiling.

Then it clicked. His voice. She had heard that voice on a news report in the past few weeks. Something about the passing of an ordinance in town and the controversy it had raised. Opposing factions of the council had been brought together by the city manager . . .

“You’re C. W. Williams,” Elizabeth said. “You’re the city manager.”

He nodded. “I am.”

The stories Clara had told her about her son, the trouble he’d been in, the ways he vexed her and sent her to her knees
 
—they all came flooding back.

“You’re Clyde?” she said incredulously.

He laughed. “I’m Clyde.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Behind her came a familiar voice. “Hey, Elizabeth!” Clara sauntered from the kitchen into the entry with the look of a queen. “Hey, Danielle!”

“Nice to meet you,” Clyde said. “I’ll let you all catch up.”

Elizabeth shook Clyde’s hand, then walked toward her friend. “You never told me that your son was the city manager.”

“I didn’t?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“My son’s the city manager,” Clara said matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth couldn’t stifle the laugh. Clara was full of surprises, and Elizabeth wondered when she’d get to the end of them.

“Okay, I’ve got some good news for you,” she said.

Clara held up a hand to stop her. She closed her eyes in thought. “I bet you’re going to tell me . . .” She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling as if she were reading a script in heaven. “. . . that a retired pastor from Texas and his wife want to buy my house.” She had a twinkle in her eyes when she looked at Elizabeth again.

“Now see,” Elizabeth said, “that’s the kind of relationship with God I want. I want Him speaking to me like that. What did He say?”

“Well, it was actually your daughter. She texted me on my new smartphone on the way over here.”

Elizabeth gave Danielle a look.

“Don’t be mad, Mom. I hardly get to text anybody.”

“And this thing is so handy,” Clara said, holding up her phone. “I’ve already downloaded a prayer app and a couple gospel tunes.”

Elizabeth shook her head. She showed Clara the paperwork with the offer, but all she wanted to know was who
the pastor was and why they liked her house. When she heard the man’s son served in the military, Clara made a fist and shook it like she’d just heard the best news in the world.

“They talked about having picnics in the backyard and mentoring their grandkids in that house,” Elizabeth said.

Clara closed her eyes. “God is just amazing. I had prayed for some specific things and He did even more than I could imagine.”

Elizabeth went to the living room while Clara finished making coffee. She passed a plaque on the wall that read,
The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make His face shine upon you.

He’s surely done that,
Elizabeth thought.

Clyde’s daughter was a couple years older than Danielle. He opened the freezer and pulled out two Popsicles and unwrapped them. The girls headed for the back deck, giggling together.

Soon, Clara slowly walked toward Elizabeth, balancing the two steaming cups like they were an offering. “Here we go. Two
hot
cups of coffee.”

“Well, if it’s hot, then I’ll drink it,” Elizabeth said.

Clara set the mugs down on an end table and settled into her seat. There was something in her eyes, something in her heart that was ready to come out. Or maybe it was sadness at the close of a chapter of their relationship.

“Now we’re still going to get together for our little chats, right?” Elizabeth said, reassuring the woman and herself.

“Oh yes. But it can’t just be the both of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you need to find a young woman to invest in. And I’ll do the same. We all need help every now and then.”

Elizabeth pondered the change in dynamics. She didn’t know if she could share Clara. She wanted her for herself. And just as quickly, she thought about Cynthia, her sister. She didn’t live far and she needed a deeper relationship with God.

“Miss Clara, I really can’t tell you how much your friendship means to me.”

“That goes for the both of us.”

“No, really. I wasn’t willing to admit how much help I needed. And I needed somebody to wake me up from the insanity of doing the same thing over and over. You’ve been a gift from God to me.”

Clara smiled warmly. “Don’t you think that this is one-sided. You have meant more to me than you know.”

“Well, good. I can’t imagine how much your prayers and your passion for God must have meant to your husband. I wish I could have met him.”

After a moment, Clara looked down. Her eyes began to fill with tears and Elizabeth realized she had touched some tender spot in Clara’s heart. She wanted to apologize or take back the words, but before she could say anything, Clara spoke.

“No. No, you don’t.”

Clara was serious now, her lips pursed. Elizabeth thought this was a time for celebration, not tears. But
she let Clara steer them toward memories tucked away and hidden in a secret room.