Fifteen Years (6 page)

So why—as the program got under way and Mr. Mickey Colt was giving his grand introduction—did Josiah’s stomach muscles feel like they were having grand mal seizures? Was it because as one of only a small handful of black executives in a company with a sea of executives, he knew that he still had something to prove? If that was his biggest worry, then this would be a piece of cake. Josiah was no stranger to challenges, and he’d certainly overcome much worse trials than this one.

“I hope you all have enjoyed your meal,” Mickey was saying into the microphone. “Let’s give the staff of Wingate Inn a round of applause for the excellent service that they’ve extended to us on this special evening.”

“Dang, where’s my plate?” Craig quipped as the lengthy thunderous applause finally tapered. “With a hand clap like that, this food must be da bomb.”

Josiah kept his eyes fixed on Mickey and prayed that Craig’s voice hadn’t resonated beyond the honoree table. Josiah also prayed that Mickey didn’t sneeze into the microphone or touch anything at the podium that he would have to touch later.

“It is my honor,” the CEO was saying, “to introduce our man of the hour. He’s one of the hardest working employees that Mac-Gyver Technologies has on its current staff, and it is my distinct pleasure to give to him this presentation that commemorates this momentous occasion.” At that moment, Mickey removed a plaque from a box that was behind the speaker’s stand and then beckoned for Josiah to join him.

The applause that followed outranked the ones for the wait
staff, and Josiah’s stomach continued to flutter as he took the short stroll to the podium and stood beside his boss.

Mickey held up the plaque so that Josiah could follow along as he read aloud. “‘In honor of your dedication and extraordinary service, MacGyver Technologies, one of the United States’ exceptional leaders in software management, names Josiah Tucker its newest Senior Systems Analyst.’ Welcome to the rank of the senior employees.”

Mingled with the newest applause were loud, sharp whistles that Craig blew into the air using his lips and two fingers. It was so undignified, but amidst Josiah’s embarrassment, he’d never been more pleased. The genuine support felt amazing, but only for a moment.

With Mickey Colt gone and the spotlight solely on him, Josiah began his speech with the usual formalities. He felt like he was testifying on a Sunday morning as he gave honor to God, then to Mickey and other executives in the room. But somewhere along the way, emotions that he’d kept bottled up inside of him for years made a surprise appearance.

While Josiah sat at the honoree’s table, he didn’t like what it felt like to sit there alone, but from the front of the room, it looked even worse. Although Craig and Danielle filled two of the eight seats that encircled the linen-covered table, there were six other seats that were unoccupied. Six seats where family members should have been sitting. Family that he didn’t have.

Try as he might, Josiah couldn’t control the quiver in his voice or the tears in his eyes that demanded permission to roll down his cheeks. And at that moment, the best that Josiah could hope … the best that he could pray… was that the audience of onlookers would mistake his tears of sorrow for tears of joy.

GETTING A private counseling session with Bishop Nathaniel Lumpkin was a rare treat. Getting a private session with twenty-four hours notice was virtually impossible unless there was a case of extreme emergency. As Josiah sat in the far-too-comfortable wing-back chair that the pastor pointed him toward, he had Danielle to thank. She was the bishop’s goddaughter, and it was by her special request that the preacher was making the exception.

“Well, Brother … uh, Brother Tucker,” he said, after slipping on a pair of reading glasses and looking down at the notepad on his desk, “I hear you’re having some challenges that you’d like to talk about. I pray that I’ll be able to offer you some biblical insight and wisdom.”

Josiah watched Bishop Lumpkin remove his glasses, carefully place them on his desk, and then lean back in his executive-style chair. The burgundy leather matched the mahogany desk with perfection.
For the last three years, Josiah had listened to the dynamic man of God preach the Word every Sunday morning, but this was the first time he’d ever sat in his office. As a matter of fact, this was his first time ever having a private conversation with the man, and it was more than a little intimidating. Josiah respected Bishop Lumpkin, but it took years to harvest the kind of trust he needed to have to tell this man his life’s story.

“Thank you for fitting me in your schedule.” Josiah cleared his throat and squirmed in his chair. He hoped his next words wouldn’t offend the pastor. “I’m … well, to tell the truth, I’m here under duress, really.”

A soft chuckle preceded the bishop’s next words. “Maybe that should be uncommon, but it’s not. Most people who come to any of the leaders of the counseling ministry do so only after some level of coercion from family or friends. For many—and I especially find this to be true among the brothers in the body of Christ—having to obtain counseling is seen as some kind of character weakness. But the truth of the matter is that it’s just the opposite. In the fifth chapter of Proverbs, the Bible tells us that it is a wise man who seeks counsel.”

It got quiet, and Josiah assumed that it was his turn to speak, but he had no idea what to say. Despite the Scripture reference, he still wasn’t ready to expose his life to a man who’d had to look at a piece of paper in order to know his name. A man whose hand he’d never shaken prior to his entrance into the pastor’s study five minutes ago.

Plus, it could easily be that he wasn’t the best person for the job anyway. After all, Bishop Lumpkin didn’t get much practice in this area of ministry. Josiah guessed he must have sat quiet for too long because it was Bishop Lumpkin’s voice that sliced into the thick cloud that was settling over their heads.

“God has consecrated this ministry with some gifted counselors,
both male and female, who are well-versed in Scripture and well-connected to heaven,” the man was saying. “Many people have been blessed tremendously after being pointed in the right direction by the divinely inspired instructions passed along by the staff here at Living Waters. I’m not known for my counseling skills because I have set people in place to meet the needs of the congregation. But what many don’t take into consideration is that those who counsel those who have need of counsel have need of counsel as well.”

Josiah looked at the pastor as if to say,
“Was that a trick question?”
He repeated the brainteaser in his mind and tried to make sense of it, but he didn’t have to ponder for long.

“In other words,” Bishop Lumpkin explained, “those who are anointed to counsel others frequently find themselves in need of some wisdom and spiritual insight. So while I don’t normally sit in sessions with the lay members here at the church, those who serve as ministry leaders sit down and confide in me often.”

It was as though he had read Josiah’s mind. Still, he was unsure. Josiah knew the clock was ticking. Danielle had gone above and beyond the call of duty when she took the initiative to set up this meeting, and there was a big chance that both she and Craig would be outdone with him if they found out that he had wasted Bishop’s time. But knowing that didn’t make Josiah want to spill his guts any more now than when he first walked into the office.

Josiah’s eyes traveled around the massive space, trying to avoid contact at all cost. It was a large office. Much larger than the one he’d had for the past seven years at MacGyver. Even larger than the one he’d be moving into tomorrow. Two sofas and a coffee table were situated on one end, with the look of a living room. On the other end of the office, bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the pastor’s desk. Some shelves were filled with reading material, and others
were stocked with photos and memorabilia; mostly souvenirs from Central State University in Ohio, the pastor’s alma mater.

Everything in the office seemed to be in some kind of rational order. Business stuff on one side, casual stuff on the other. It was nice and clean too. Josiah felt comfortable resting his hands on the arms of the leather chair. When Bishop Lumpkin began talking again, Josiah guessed it was because he had been too quiet for too long again.

“There was this one young man—a minister here at Living Water—who, as a kid, had endured endless ridicule. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he had quite a rough life.” Bishop Lumpkin paused and stood from his chair.

The pastor took a short stroll and came to a stop in front of his desk, just a few feet away from where Josiah sat. Standing at a height of just under six feet, Bishop Lumpkin was a robust man in his mid to late fifties whose pattern baldness actually became him. Grey strands littered his remaining hair, making him seem older than his years. He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms in front of him like he had all the time in the world to wait for Josiah to come around and open up.

“This young man,” he continued, “had endured a rough childhood wherein he was bullied and picked on just about every day he went to school. His parents tried to convince him that the daily harassments were a result of the low self-esteem of those who did the bullying. There was nothing wrong with him, they told him. But it’s hard to convince a kid of that when he’s walking around on crutches every day because there was nothing below the knee of one of his legs. He had a left thigh and a left knee, but that was it.”

He had Josiah’s full attention now, and he wanted to know more. “Why did his leg have to be amputated?”

Bishop Lumpkin picked up a snow globe from his desk and
shook it, stirring the contents before returning it to its station. He took a moment to watch some of the snow settle, then looked back at Josiah. “Amputated? No, there was no amputation. It was a birth defect. He was born that way.”

“Oh.” It was all that Josiah could think to say. In his mind though, he figured that this minister was no longer a part of Living Water. There were no one-legged preachers on their staff.

“This young man’s whole life was hampered by that bum leg and the ugly things that people said about it from childhood all the way into his adulthood. Every time he heard someone laugh, he wondered if they were laughing at him. Every time he saw a person walk with a limp, he wondered if they were really impaired in some way or if they were slyly mocking him.”

Josiah’s back stiffened as he recalled his lunchtime exchange with Craig on Friday. Well, well, well. Looks like his good ole confidant had gone and tattled to the bishop. Or maybe Craig had told Danielle, and Danielle had filled Bishop Lumpkin in when she set up this unsolicited appointment. Either way, a weak moment he thought would be kept between brothers had leaked.

Josiah bit the inside of his bottom lip as embarrassment crept in. Bishop Lumpkin, no doubt, knew about the tears and everything. He couldn’t believe Craig had betrayed him like this. It was enough to make Josiah want to storm out in protest, but this story that his pastor was telling, orchestrated or not, was too engaging not to hear the ending.

“So what did he do?” Josiah heard himself ask.

A half smile tugged at Bishop Lumpkin’s lips. “His road to deliverance from those demons didn’t come until he was probably just a year or two younger than you are right now. That’s when he walked into the office of this awesome pastor who gave him good, sound advice.”

Josiah chuckled at the bishop’s shameless plug of himself. “And that advice was?”

“Change it or live with it.” Bishop Lumpkin said the phrase like it was simple common sense.

That wasn’t the response Josiah expected to hear, and the scowl on his face said that he disagreed wholeheartedly. “That’s it? That’s what you told him?”

“That’s what
the preacher
told him; yes.”

“The man spent his whole childhood being the target of jokes, and no doubt, he was reminded about the fact that he had no family … I mean, no leg … all through college and even after he entered the workforce, and all you could give him by way of counsel was change it or shut up?”

Bishop Lumpkin readjusted his position. Instead of leaning on the desk, he used his hands to hoist his body up until he was able to slide onto the desk in a seated position. He waited another moment before saying, “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s the same thing,” Josiah defended. “Change it or live with it… change it or shut up … tomato … tom-ah-to.”

In the seconds of quiet that followed, Bishop Lumpkin appeared to be deep in thought. Then he broke the silence with, “You’ve heard of the serenity prayer, right?”

Josiah nodded, and to prove it, he recited the words. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” As soon as he finished smugly rattling off the words, he realized why the bishop had asked.

“There are certain things in life that we can’t do anything about, Brother Tucker,” the pastor said. “If there is a life struggle torturing us that we have absolutely no control over, then all we can do is pray about it, and then release it to the hands of God so
that He can direct us on how to live with whatever that issue is. But if the challenge—be it physical, mental, or otherwise—is something that we have been given the wherewithal to do something about, then it’s up to us to change it.”