assistant pastor, was standing outside. He also ran the youth group and was in charge of the worship band. I sometimes wondered if the church really needed me. The kids loved Jeff since he was practically still a kid himself. He was twenty-five, yet looked sixteen. Even with his shirt and tie on, he looked like a kid who raided his dad’s wardrobe. He was talking to some ladies from the congregation out front when I pulled up.
“Charlie! Did you hear?” He yelled as he ran up to me.
“Hear what?”
“The Bishop! He can raise the dead!”
Oh, here we go.
“Yes I know. I met him.”
“You met him? Are you serious?” Jeff’s eyes lit up, and the women started bombarding me with questions. I wasn’t even sure who these ladies were. I had just seen them around the church a few times. Regardless, I had too much on my mind to hold a press conference about the Bishop.
“Yes, we had lunch yesterday. Everything happened yesterday anyway. I figured everyone heard about it by now. Or is there something else going on?”
“Well, Vanessa here said he is gonna have a meeting tomorrow night. Everyone is invited. It’s gonna be like a healing service. Kind of like an old fashioned tent revival!” Jeff answered. “That’s just what this community needs! The Spirit will be at work tomorrow!” The kid’s voice was actually cracked as he spoke, as if he’d just hit puberty. I gathered that Vanessa was the short blonde standing next to him. I’d only seen her around once or twice. I would have normally found the whole thing funny, except that I realized how it all made sense--the Bishop was building a following. He would come in, perform a few miracles, get people worked up with some big revivals and before you know it, the Bishop’s like the pied piper, leading everyone out of their churches and into his. And, along with them, the money and manpower that kept the individual churches in business.
I needed to find out what his plan was. What. What did he want? No doubt, I’d learn a few things at the revival. That gave me some time to sort things out. I was still fuming about him getting to Nancy Martinez first. Could God be speaking to him too? If so, that would be a pretty sick joke. Questions began to fill my mind. It would be nice if I could speak to David Davidson again, but that didn’t seem likely.
I could try to find Davidson, but he was like a ghost. Our last encounter was only because he chose to seek me out. He left no contact information and had no identifying characteristics or information I could use to track him down, other than his weird name. That wouldn’t get me very far on Google. My followers might suggest I pray for guidance in this situation. But, prayer for me was a funny thing. Of course I publically prayed as would be expected of a pastor. But privately, for myself, I didn’t pray the same way others did. I didn’t sit and ask God for things. I figured He knew everything I needed. The Bible says ask and you shall receive, but I wasn’t like everyone else. I was the Hand of God. He would keep me steady and provide for my needs.
I went into my office and opened my laptop. Using Google and Yahoo, I did a few people searches looking for David Davidson. Oddly enough it was a fairly common name. The San Antonio area has around 2 million people so that makes finding anyone even harder. I closed the laptop and rubbed my eyes. The last few days had been crazy and it was giving me a headache. I would have to wait until the revival tomorrow night to get some real answers.
Chapter 14
When Wednesday night rolled around, the whole town was buzzing with excitement. People were curious about the Bishop and rumors were flying. Some thought he was a prophet; others were skeptical and thought he was out for money. I was sure it was neither, but hoped to find out. I went ahead and canceled our
“Charlie! Did you hear?” He yelled as he ran up to me.
“Hear what?”
“The Bishop! He can raise the dead!”
Oh, here we go.
“Yes I know. I met him.”
“You met him? Are you serious?” Jeff’s eyes lit up, and the women started bombarding me with questions. I wasn’t even sure who these ladies were. I had just seen them around the church a few times. Regardless, I had too much on my mind to hold a press conference about the Bishop.
“Yes, we had lunch yesterday. Everything happened yesterday anyway. I figured everyone heard about it by now. Or is there something else going on?”
“Well, Vanessa here said he is gonna have a meeting tomorrow night. Everyone is invited. It’s gonna be like a healing service. Kind of like an old fashioned tent revival!” Jeff answered. “That’s just what this community needs! The Spirit will be at work tomorrow!” The kid’s voice was actually cracked as he spoke, as if he’d just hit puberty. I gathered that Vanessa was the short blonde standing next to him. I’d only seen her around once or twice. I would have normally found the whole thing funny, except that I realized how it all made sense--the Bishop was building a following. He would come in, perform a few miracles, get people worked up with some big revivals and before you know it, the Bishop’s like the pied piper, leading everyone out of their churches and into his. And, along with them, the money and manpower that kept the individual churches in business.
I needed to find out what his plan was. What. What did he want? No doubt, I’d learn a few things at the revival. That gave me some time to sort things out. I was still fuming about him getting to Nancy Martinez first. Could God be speaking to him too? If so, that would be a pretty sick joke. Questions began to fill my mind. It would be nice if I could speak to David Davidson again, but that didn’t seem likely.
I could try to find Davidson, but he was like a ghost. Our last encounter was only because he chose to seek me out. He left no contact information and had no identifying characteristics or information I could use to track him down, other than his weird name. That wouldn’t get me very far on Google. My followers might suggest I pray for guidance in this situation. But, prayer for me was a funny thing. Of course I publically prayed as would be expected of a pastor. But privately, for myself, I didn’t pray the same way others did. I didn’t sit and ask God for things. I figured He knew everything I needed. The Bible says ask and you shall receive, but I wasn’t like everyone else. I was the Hand of God. He would keep me steady and provide for my needs.
I went into my office and opened my laptop. Using Google and Yahoo, I did a few people searches looking for David Davidson. Oddly enough it was a fairly common name. The San Antonio area has around 2 million people so that makes finding anyone even harder. I closed the laptop and rubbed my eyes. The last few days had been crazy and it was giving me a headache. I would have to wait until the revival tomorrow night to get some real answers.
Chapter 14
When Wednesday night rolled around, the whole town was buzzing with excitement. People were curious about the Bishop and rumors were flying. Some thought he was a prophet; others were skeptical and thought he was out for money. I was sure it was neither, but hoped to find out. I went ahead and canceled our
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