Mosquito netting had become Gabe’s best friend.
Without the mesh covering to relax and sleep under every night, he was certain from the constant buzzing that filled his ears that he would be returning home with a war story about surviving malaria.
This evening, as most of the other members of the mission team prepared for bed, he and Stevens sat on a screened porch, under a wide swatch of insecticide-treated netting, with the door latched. That had been necessary, because the Ugandans were so fascinated to have Americans staying with and serving them that they rarely gave them time alone, unless it was explicitly requested.
Stevens pulled out an oversized, black leather Bible whose spine seemed nearly gone. He had taped it with masking tape several times; even so, the leather had continued to crack.
“’Bout time to trade that in for a new version, isn’t it?” Gabe asked.
Stevens shook his head. “Can’t. It holds more than words.”
He opened the Bible and slowly flipped through the pages, revealing sections highlighted in yellow or blue, and words or phrases scribbled throughout in ink or pencil. There were dates and partial prayers. Underlined words and question marks.
Gabe snorted. “Is this a textbook or a Bible?”
“Both. I thought the same thing when my grandmother gave it to me just over three years ago, when I got serious about my faith. Most of these markings were made by my grandfather. But when I received it, I bought the highlighter to keep track of passages that spoke to me or that I needed to study more.
“I’ve found that I’m learning and growing each time I read the same passages,” Stevens said. “This book is also a constant reminder of God’s goodness and grace.”
Gabe folded his arms across his chest.
“What are you thinking?” Stevens asked.
Gabe had questions he didn’t know how to pose. How could he be a renowned surgeon and not know these things? Yet, what did he have to lose, thousands of miles from his real world, in a place where time slowed to an ancient pace and joy resulted from one-on-one personal connections rather than being well connected?
“I’m wondering what the difference is between grace and mercy, in the religious sense. You hear Christians spouting those words all the time,” Gabe said. “And how can the words in a book change your life?”
Stevens leaned back in his chair. They were so near the equator that the setting of the sun hadn’t caused the temperature to dip much. He wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow and stared at the starry sky.
“Grace and mercy are pretty similar,” Stevens said. “Grace is God’s unearned gift. It means he loves you, he blesses you. He gives you chances you don’t deserve.
“When God has mercy on us, he’s deciding not to hold a grudge for all of the stupid, mean, or conniving things we’ve done. It means he gives us a fresh start, with no strings attached, when we ask for forgiveness with a sincere heart.”
Stevens glanced at Gabe. Gabe nodded to let him know he could continue. Stevens briefly waved his Bible.
“This book, here,” he paused and his voice quivered. “The words in here shook me up, man. When I asked God to take over my life and I read the stories of the early Christians, and about how God’s unconditional love was available to me thousands of years later, it changed me.”
Gabe looked at his friend. “Is this a white boy thing?”
Stevens frowned, then laughed until he was red in the face. Gabe watched him intently until he composed himself.
“Jesus was born to Jewish parents, had wooly hair, and loved all mankind, Gabe,” Stevens said. “I’m laughing because I see that you’re serious. You’re worried that if you decide to become a Christian here in Africa, you’re going to get back to Houston and have to face your friends and family and explain what happened to you. That’s it, isn’t it?”
Gabe gritted his teeth. Stevens still knew him too well.
“What about all those ‘brothers’ in Houston, or for that matter, around the world, who profess a love for the Lord?” Stevens said. “Come on, Gabe. You know better.”
Stevens was right, Gabe acknowledged. He did know better. But he wasn’t about to become some wigged-out Christian, handing out pamphlets and selling all of his goods to move to Africa just because . . . just because . . . He squirmed when he couldn’t finish the thought.
Stevens flipped the pages in his Bible until he reached Colos-sians 3:23–24.
Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.
Stevens looked at him. “Serving God doesn’t mean you have to change who you are, Gabe,” he said. “You just have to allow him to change your heart. When he does that, you can’t help but alter the way you treat others, and you’ll long to pick up the Bible and know more about him, without having to wait for a Sunday morning sermon. Have I changed that much?”
Gabe thought about it.
Stevens was a different person, but not in an offensive or overbearing way. Instead, he had become more patient and focused on his work, he had become the calming center of the practice when the pace got too frantic, and he seemed much happier.
“You’ve changed for the better,” Gabe acknowledged.
“I’m not required as a Christian to stalk people with my faith, and I hope you’ve never felt that I’ve done that with you,” Stevens said.
Gabe shook his head. If anything, he had been forced to pull out of Stevens why he seemed content, even when things weren’t going smoothly in his personal life or when a patient didn’t survive.
“I don’t take this big Bible with me everywhere and whip it out for someone in need of a good word,” Stevens said. “Some people may do that, but that’s not my style. I’ll offer to hold their hand, or listen, or pray, when it’s appropriate. And sometimes I’ll invite them to join me on a mission trip.”
Gabe laughed. “I fell for the okey-doke, huh?”
Stevens shook his head and stood up. He laid the Bible on the table in front of him. “I’d never trick you into anything, man. I wanted you to come and help these people that I deeply respect. I wanted you to get a taste of what it’s like to live outside your world and your life and your blessings. This experience in and of itself can be life changing.
“This is not a bad place to begin wrestling with God’s role in it all, but honestly, there’s no pressure. I’ve got your back, no matter what.”
The men did a soul-brother handshake and hugged.
“How’s that for a white boy?”
They laughed.
“Sorry, man,” Gabe said.
Stevens was about to part the netting and unlatch the door when Gabe touched his shoulder.
“One more question, man,” he said. “About this grace and mercy. Does that apply to everything?”
Stevens turned and faced him. “Before I surrendered to God, I was gambling away my future,” he said quietly. “Those long weekend trips I took? They weren’t to golf resorts. I was holed up somewhere losing big, while my wife sat at home crying and worrying about whether we’d survive financially. God removed my addiction and saved me from bankruptcy, Gabe. That’s nothing but grace and mercy.”
Gabe followed his friend into the building and bade him good night.
His mind was swirling from all he’d heard, and he still felt awkward for having asked Stevens to talk with him anyway. He walked to the room he shared with three other men from Gabe’s church and tiptoed to his cot, where he would cover himself with more netting and quickly change into lightweight sleepwear.
Once settled, he lay there, listening to the mosquito songs and willing sleep to come. Instead, Stevens’s words reverberated in his mind. The portions of the Scripture about pleasing God instead of man became a refrain.
He thought about his sins, the biggest of all being his eighteen-month affair with Veronica. How could he fix that? Would God really help him set things straight?
Stevens hadn’t said so, but from the little Gabe knew about God, he realized that if he were going to take a serious step toward faith, he would have to seek forgiveness, not only from the heavenly Creator, but also from his wife.
If choosing God meant Rachelle might never come home, he wasn’t sure he could do it.