just get myself in trouble.”
Shade pushed away from the counter and walked to the picture wall. He studied each scene. “This is my favorite,” he said and pointed. “Fishers of Men.”
Candi joined him and gazed at the eyes of a soulful and imploring Jesus as he paused at the Sea of Galilee to invite Peter and Andrew into discipleship. “Why this one?”
“Because I like to fish.”
Candi narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Despite the nets and the boat, there’s more to this painting than catching fish.”
His grin was smug. “I know what it’s about.”
She turned and headed for the door. “And you said you weren’t an evangelist.”
“I do like to fish, though.”
She shouldered her purse. “Come to think of it, I do too. Fishing is so quiet and reflective. And sometimes you catch something.”
He pulled the door open for her. “So let’s go fishing.”
“We have to get to practice.”
“Not now , later this week.”
She stopped and stared straight into his sincere gaze.
He was completely serious.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? We now have an early morning regular meeting on Fridays. Let’s just push it to Saturday and take it to the pond.”
“I don’t have a license.”
“Private property. None necessary.”
“I haven’t had a pole since I left home.”
“I have several.”
“Digging up night crawlers tends to ruin my nails for church.”
He let out an exasperated sigh as she made a swift getaway across the foyer and into the sanctuary. “Aw c’mon now, Candi, I’ll get the bait. It’s just fishing.”
She stopped short and spun around. Get to know him…help him…ask him...
“OK, OK, I’ll go. There’s just one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you in the Del Rio Destroyer.”
4
From: Pastor Charles Littleton
[mailto:[email protected]]
Sent: Friday, April 24 8:09 AM
To: Candi Canaberry [email protected]
CC: Shade Blackledge < [email protected] >
Subject: Power in Praise Worship Conference
Candi and Shade:
I’ve attached the information for the Power in Praise Worship Conference in June. Have either of you had a chance to check your calendars? Let me know. It was great talking to you both Tuesday night. We’ll touch base again after you’ve had a chance to put some details together.
Charles
Max was right on time. Shade could tell he was coming by the sound of the muffler Kevin and Max had installed on Max’s mother’s old, red Chevy Cavalier. He peeked through the metal mini-blinds in his kitchen and listened to the low rumble for two blocks before he ever saw the car approach his trailer. It slowed and then sped past. The squeal of brakes followed as Max no doubt realized he’d missed the narrow strip of concrete that served as a driveway. He backed up and slipped into the spot beside the Del Rio Destroyer, just missing a pot of dead geraniums the previous tenant had left behind.
Shade stepped out onto his raised wooden deck. “How’s it goin’?”
Max retrieved three pizza boxes from the back seat. “It’ll be better once I bust into this pizza.”
Shade’s stomach growled. “I can smell it from here.”
“Rocky’s right behind me,” Max offered. “He’s got the movies.”
Shade leaned against the rail as Max climbed the stairs to join him on the deck. “About Rocky, how are we gonna get him in the house?”
Max set the boxes on the dirt-crusted plastic white table in the corner. “No problem. Rocky’s a maniac in that chair. He’ll zip across the yard over there to clear the drainage ditch, then he’ll back up to these steps and we’ll pull him up.”
“So he gets around OK?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Shade flexed his toes in his boots. There was a time they wouldn’t move. How is it God let his toes regain their feeling, but not Rocky’s? He shifted his weight against the rail and crossed his arms. “What happened to
Shade pushed away from the counter and walked to the picture wall. He studied each scene. “This is my favorite,” he said and pointed. “Fishers of Men.”
Candi joined him and gazed at the eyes of a soulful and imploring Jesus as he paused at the Sea of Galilee to invite Peter and Andrew into discipleship. “Why this one?”
“Because I like to fish.”
Candi narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Despite the nets and the boat, there’s more to this painting than catching fish.”
His grin was smug. “I know what it’s about.”
She turned and headed for the door. “And you said you weren’t an evangelist.”
“I do like to fish, though.”
She shouldered her purse. “Come to think of it, I do too. Fishing is so quiet and reflective. And sometimes you catch something.”
He pulled the door open for her. “So let’s go fishing.”
“We have to get to practice.”
“Not now , later this week.”
She stopped and stared straight into his sincere gaze.
He was completely serious.
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? We now have an early morning regular meeting on Fridays. Let’s just push it to Saturday and take it to the pond.”
“I don’t have a license.”
“Private property. None necessary.”
“I haven’t had a pole since I left home.”
“I have several.”
“Digging up night crawlers tends to ruin my nails for church.”
He let out an exasperated sigh as she made a swift getaway across the foyer and into the sanctuary. “Aw c’mon now, Candi, I’ll get the bait. It’s just fishing.”
She stopped short and spun around. Get to know him…help him…ask him...
“OK, OK, I’ll go. There’s just one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you in the Del Rio Destroyer.”
4
From: Pastor Charles Littleton
[mailto:[email protected]]
Sent: Friday, April 24 8:09 AM
To: Candi Canaberry [email protected]
CC: Shade Blackledge < [email protected] >
Subject: Power in Praise Worship Conference
Candi and Shade:
I’ve attached the information for the Power in Praise Worship Conference in June. Have either of you had a chance to check your calendars? Let me know. It was great talking to you both Tuesday night. We’ll touch base again after you’ve had a chance to put some details together.
Charles
Max was right on time. Shade could tell he was coming by the sound of the muffler Kevin and Max had installed on Max’s mother’s old, red Chevy Cavalier. He peeked through the metal mini-blinds in his kitchen and listened to the low rumble for two blocks before he ever saw the car approach his trailer. It slowed and then sped past. The squeal of brakes followed as Max no doubt realized he’d missed the narrow strip of concrete that served as a driveway. He backed up and slipped into the spot beside the Del Rio Destroyer, just missing a pot of dead geraniums the previous tenant had left behind.
Shade stepped out onto his raised wooden deck. “How’s it goin’?”
Max retrieved three pizza boxes from the back seat. “It’ll be better once I bust into this pizza.”
Shade’s stomach growled. “I can smell it from here.”
“Rocky’s right behind me,” Max offered. “He’s got the movies.”
Shade leaned against the rail as Max climbed the stairs to join him on the deck. “About Rocky, how are we gonna get him in the house?”
Max set the boxes on the dirt-crusted plastic white table in the corner. “No problem. Rocky’s a maniac in that chair. He’ll zip across the yard over there to clear the drainage ditch, then he’ll back up to these steps and we’ll pull him up.”
“So he gets around OK?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Shade flexed his toes in his boots. There was a time they wouldn’t move. How is it God let his toes regain their feeling, but not Rocky’s? He shifted his weight against the rail and crossed his arms. “What happened to
Similar Books
