The Warning by Davis Bunn Page B

exactly.”
    â€œFine.” He handed Buddy the open Book, pointed to the bottom of one column. Start right there, First Corinthians, chapter twelve, verse four.”
    Buddy found his place and read aloud. “‘There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit.’”
    â€œOkay. Now I want you to stop thinking of this as something that is going to make you declare yourself as an old-style prophet. Instead, see this as simply one more responsibility in your life as a believer. You have been given a message . And the message is for the common good .”
    Buddy saw where this was headed and tried to steer away from it. “You don’t even know what the message is yet.”
    â€œHear me out.” Pastor Owen was not to be distracted. “Now, if the Lord has indeed given you the gift of a message, how can it be for the common good unless you share it?”
    â€œIt can’t, I guess,” Buddy mumbled.
    â€œExactly. How this is to be done is not for you to determine, do you see? If the Lord is truly behind this, then He will show you exactly where and how the message is to be shared. If He had wanted somebody who would have sprung directly into the limelight, appeared on television, and declared the message to the world, He would have gone elsewhere. If He has chosen you, then He has chosen you with some special purpose in mind. Simply keep your eyes and ears open, Buddy. He will open the doors if this is indeed His will.”
    Clarke Owen stopped there and waited long enough for Buddy to have a chance to object. When Buddy remained silent, Clarke asked, “Do you want to tell me what you think you heard?”
    Buddy took a deep breath and let it out. He set both hands on the open Bible. He took another breath. “I think there’s going to be a major financial collapse. An economic disaster. Followed by a time of commercial famine.”
    The pastor remained stock-still, his gaze steady. “When?”
    â€œJust over a month.” Buddy’s voice cracked under the strain. He swallowed and tried again. “In thirty-seven days, the third Tuesday of next month.”
    Buddy waited for the soft voice to calmly dispel his fears, to echo all he had told himself through the previous night’s sleepless hours. How it was natural in such unstable times to be worried. How things had often been far worse than now, and somehow disaster had been averted. How every economic indicator now said that things were good and getting better.
    Instead, Clarke nodded once. A slow up and down, and then he said, “I think you should share this with the deacons.”
    â€œClarke, no, I—”
    â€œYou know there’s a finance meeting tonight. I want you to tell them what you’ve just told me.” Before Buddy could object further, Pastor Owen lowered his head. “Now why don’t we join together in prayer and ask the Lord to show us exactly why He has spoken to you, and what it is He intends for us to do.”

–| | NINE | |–
    It seemed the longest afternoon of Buddy Korda’s life.
    As soon as lunch was over, he fled to his study. Sunday afternoons usually began with a nap on his couch, but today he started wearing a path in the carpet, pacing from the window to the door and back again. The idea of standing in front of the church’s deacons and declaring he had received a message from on high was appalling.
    Then a thought struck him. And he stopped in his tracks. His first smile of the day spread across his features. An expression of pure bliss.
    Buddy walked over to his desk. He seated himself and pulled over his pad. He had always liked to have important points