“I can’t do it.”
Granger looked up from where he was using Gorilla Superglue to reattach part of the sole of his right Skecher. “You can’t do what?”
“I don’t have the spiritual intensity, or maturity, or, or–what’s that old word for, uh, healing?”
“You mean ‘unction’?”
“Yeah. Stuff like that. I guess I’m just not Godly enough to make it all work or something.”
Granger slipped a thick rubber band around the brown lace-up shoe that was one of his favorites. He was careful not to get any of the glue on the leather, made sure the band was tight, then laid it up on a shelf to cure. Walking over to his sink, he washed his hands, then turned and leaned against the counter as he dried his hands on the red-and-white checked kitchen towel.
“What are you trying to make work?” Sparks shrugged, a hurt and baffled look on his rugged face.
“You know, all of it. I’m getting along great, then something trips me up and I feel like a total flop in serving God and being a consistent Christian. You’re always writing about being a spiritual warrior? Well, here of late I feel mostly like a Cub Scout. I just can’t seem to DO it so it lasts!”
Granger lifted his “NOT TODAY, SATAN” coffee mug, grimacing as he sipped now-tepid coffee. Setting the cream and gold mug back on the counter, he eyed his younger friend. “Of course you can’t.” Eyeing Sparks, Granger grinned slightly at the deputy’s sudden frown. He continued.
“None of us can by ourselves, nor were we ever intended to. Let me share a couple of favorite Bible verses with you.” Walking over to his mahogany dining table, Granger picked up the Bible laying there. As he walked back, he riffled through the pages, locating what he wanted to read.
“Here we go. The first one is found in Isaiah 54:17:
But no instrument forged against you will be allowed to hurt you,
and no voice raised to condemn you will successfully prosecute you.
It’s that simple; this is how it will be for the servants of the Eternal;
I will vindicate them. – Isaiah 54:17 The Voice (VOICE)
Granger glanced up over his readers. “You catch that? Who said that last statement?”
“God.” Granger nodded. “Lemme read you another one.” The back of his blue-and-grey light flannel shirt scruffed as he moved to scratch his back on the counter edge.
The truth is that, although of course we lead normal human lives, the battle we are fighting is on the spiritual level. The very weapons we use are not those of human warfare but powerful in God’s warfare for the destruction of the enemy’s strongholds. – 2 Corinthians 10:4, Phillips.
Granger closed the Bible and laid it beside him on the counter beside his coffee mug.
“So what’d that say was the purpose for these God-weapons?”
Sparks scrinched his face as he thought. “I think you said ‘strongholds’.” Granger enthusiastically nodded, lifting his eyebrows.
“In other words, my LE friend, God’s flat telling you that ‘thing’ that’s defeating you that you can’t seem to whip? Overcome? Stomp? IT. AIN’T. BIBLICAL. Sparks, nowhere in the Bible does God say, “Well, except for THAT one, ’cause it’s too tough for Me. Just nope.”
Collecting his helmet and gloves, the lawman stood thinking for a minute as he drained the last Kona blend from his coffee cup. “Okay, so that means the only one causing my, my defeat or dependency on that is . . . me.”
Smiling at him and winking, Granger turned to rinse out his coffee mug. He heard the back door quietly snick shut, a sign the young deputy sheriff was deep in thought. He was like Granger in that way; he was unusually quiet when thinking or pondering.
Setting the coffee mug upside-down on the kitchen towel to drain, Granger took his Bible over and laid it back on the table. Guess I’d better check how that glue’s setting up on my shoe, he thought.
© D. Dean Boone, August 2018