Pound Foolish (Windy City Neighbors Book 4) (6 page)

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Authors: Dave Jackson,Neta Jackson

Tags: #Fiction/Christian

BOOK: Pound Foolish (Windy City Neighbors Book 4)
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     “Wait,” Nicole whispered as she pushed over close to Greg. “He skipped some parts.”

     “Of course,” Greg pointed toward the screen. “That’s what those dots are for, those ellipses. He’s just trying to make it clear.”

     Pastor Hanson continued, “Now there are three questions before us today: One, what did God promise Abraham? Two, who is Abraham’s seed? That is, who’s in line to inherit the blessing? And three, how is it received?”

     The pastor had Greg’s full attention. He’d missed last Sunday by being up in Waukegan, but this series was so exciting.

     “Stay with me, now. I’m gonna be moving kinda fast, but in Genesis chapter twelve we find God calling Abraham and making promises to him. Verse two: ‘I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great.’ Verse seven: ‘To your descendants I will give this land.’ In Genesis thirteen-fifteen He promises, ‘for all the land which you see I give to you and your descendants forever.’ God is promising unimaginable material wealth here, brothers and sisters.” Every verse the pastor quoted flashed on the screen. “And He can deliver. Don’tcha know that He owns ‘the cattle on a thousand hills.’ ‘“The silver is Mine, and the gold is Mine,” says the Lord of hosts.’ This is the promise God made to Abraham, and we’ve got a big God! He can deliver!”

     Most of the congregation was cheering and clapping.

     “And did God deliver, brothers and sisters? Perhaps you haven’t noticed when you’ve read the Word, but in that ancient culture, Abraham became a wealthy man, a filthy rich man. We’re talkin’ Donald-Trump rich! And that’s for you too.”

     Greg stood up and joined in the clapping.

     “Anybody here have 318 male servants in your household? According to Genesis fourteen and fourteen, that’s how many Abraham had. When Abraham sent his most trusted servant to find a wife for his son Isaac, the servant described Abraham this way in Genesis twenty-four, verse thirty-five: ‘The Lord has blessed my master greatly, and he has become great; and He has given him flocks and herds, silver and gold, male and female servants, and camels and donkeys.’ You gettin’ the picture, folks? You gettin’ the picture?” A swell of laughter filled the auditorium.

     Having established that God had promised Abraham great material wealth and delivered on that blessing beyond anyone’s imagination, Pastor Hanson proceeded to answer the other two questions he’d pulled from the morning’s primary text: Who’s in line to inherit the blessing? And how is it received?

     “We’re a Bible-believing church,” Pastor Hanson often said. “That’s why I always preach from the Word.” And he did, too, floating every point of his sermon on a verse like individual snowflakes swirling in a Chicago blizzard.

     “Don’t you know we are the ‘Gentiles in Christ Jesus’? Galatians three-fourteen says, ‘the blessing of Abraham [would] come upon the Gentiles in Christ Jesus.’” Pastor Hanson zeroed in on his point: this promise of prosperity was for believers today. “We are Abraham’s seed, in line to inherit the promise, and God never breaks a promise. Psalm eighty-nine, thirty-four says, ‘My covenant I will not break, nor alter the word that has gone out of my lips.’”

     Greg noticed that Nicole had her Bible open and seemed to be reading the whole Genesis chapter.

     “That brings us to the third question,” Hanson bellowed. “How is the promise received? Again, the answer’s in the Word. We receive it just like Abraham did—by faith! Verse fourteen couldn’t be more clear: ‘We . . . receive the promise . . . through faith.’ Simple as that! Do you want it?”

     “Yes,” half the audience murmured.

     “Really? Doesn’t sound like it. Do you really want it?”

     “Yes!”

     “Really?”

     “Yes! Yes! Yes!” All hesitation gone.

     “You want it today?”

     That brought the house down as people again rose to their feet, clapping, dancing, raising their hands, and crying, “Yes! Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!”

     Greg’s eyes were closed and his hands were raised as the praise band began playing and a powerful soprano launched into, “It’s a new season . . . of power and prosperity.” The singer’s voice was so like the woman who’d led them in welcoming Mrs. Krakowski back to the neighborhood, Greg had to open his eyes to check. Nope. Somebody else. But still . . .

     “Do you believe it? Do you believe it?”

     The singer’s words brought Greg back to the present. But that connection to Beecham Street caused him to wonder what Pastor Hanson’s message meant for him? He had a good job, and they were doing all right financially, but perhaps God had more in store for him. Maybe he and Nicole ought to start a new business. She could run it from home while she was homeschooling the kids. Yes, yes. What a teachable moment that would provide for the kids, to see an example of real entrepreneurship right in their own home! They might even be able to help out, depending on what the business was.

     Ah, this was great!
Thank you, Jesus!
The education of children today had become so divorced from the family’s livelihood. Used to be the whole family was involved together on the farm or in the shop, making shoes or selling produce in the marketplace. But now . . .

     He felt as if God was giving him a vision.

     Pastor Hanson’s voice interrupted. “Be with us next Sunday as we explore ‘The Law of Sowing and Reaping,’ God’s divine plan for exercising
your
faith to receive
your
blessing!” The pastor was talking directly to a camera that had zoomed in close. How did he know which one to look at? “And especially for you friends out there worshiping with us through television. You’re as much a part of this family as those who are able to make it here to the Victorious Living Center, and so we want to provide a means for you to easily seed into our ministry.”

     Greg felt he was already seeding, and generously too. The next step for him was to receive the promise by faith so he could seed even more. He grinned to himself. Who knew where this would end? With a new lightness in his step, he headed for the Exit sign leading to the stairway. He would explain the whole thing to Nicole as they drove home.

 

* * * *

   

Nicole had watched Greg’s enthusiastic response to the pastor’s message. He’d been on his feet, clapping and singing and raising his hands. It amazed her and made her realize she really was a lucky woman. Glancing around at the audience in the Victorious Living Center, she saw many women were there without husbands, probably single moms or wives whose husbands weren’t interested in spiritual things.

     At least Greg was interested, more interested than ever.

     As they made their way out of the balcony and down to the lobby, Greg turned back to her. “If you’ll pick up the kids, I’ll get the coffee and cocoa and meet you at one of the booths.”

     Nicole nodded and headed toward the children’s church.

     If only she could feel more comfortable about the focus of Greg’s passion. She wanted to trust him as the spiritual head of their family, but the more enthusiastic he became over this new direction Pastor Hanson’s teaching had taken, the more she struggled to respect his spirituality. It seemed so . . . so self-centered, and she found herself comparing it to what she’d been taught in the church she’d grown up in. Sure, they’d had pledge Sundays and took special offerings for visiting missionaries. And there’d been the big capital drive to remodel the church basement into new classrooms, but no one ever offered an incentive. And yet there was that verse in Malachi that seemed to promise overflowing blessings to those who tithed faithfully.

     She’d have to think about that, but she wasn’t ready to swallow all Pastor Hanson had been saying.

     Now where were the kids? They were supposed meet her right inside the door.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Greg had to wait in line to get out of the church parking lot, but as soon they were driving east on Touhy Avenue toward home, he said, “Got an idea.” When Nicole didn’t say anything, he glanced over to see if she was listening. “Nikki?”

     “Yes. What idea?”

     “Actually, it wasn’t so much
my
idea as a vision from the Lord, I think. Came to me during church.” When she didn’t ask what it was, he glanced her way again. She was still staring straight ahead, a small frown on her face. “Pastor Hanson’s message inspired it. Wasn’t it powerful? So clear how we’re heirs of God’s promise to Abraham!”

     “Yes, but . . .”

     “But what?”

     “I don’t know. Pastor Hanson applied that promise to our material prosperity, but to me, it didn’t seem like that was what the apostle Paul was talking about.”

     “What? God made Abraham a very wealthy man, didn’t he? I mean . . .” Did he have to preach the message all over again?

     “Well, you’re right. Abraham became rich. No question about that, but . . .” She sighed deeply. “Pastor Hanson read that verse in Galatians, but it actually seems to be talking about receiving the promise of the Holy Spirit. And he skipped over some verses in the same chapter that talked about Christ being Abraham’s true heir.” She opened her Bible and flipped through the pages. “Here, he skipped this verse entirely. ‘The Scripture does not say “and to seeds,” meaning many people, but “and to your seed,” meaning one person, who is Christ.’ That seems pretty clear to me.”

     Irritation tightened Greg’s throat. Why did Nicole have to disagree with everything? “Maybe it’s the translation. Your Bible’s the NIV, and the pastor was reading from the New King James. Besides, doesn’t the Bible also say somewhere that we’re ‘joint heirs with Christ’?”

     Nicole was quiet. He gave her a sideways glance. Had he convinced her or just shut her down? Either way, he felt frustrated. If God had given him a vision this morning, why wasn’t she eager to hear about it rather than debate details from the pastor’s sermon? “Well,
I’m
for cashing in on whatever God has for us even if you’re not.”

     She sighed deeply. “It’s not that, Greg. It’s just . . .”

     He waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as they sat at a stoplight. “Just what?”

     “I don’t know, it’s this emphasis the pastor’s been on for the last few weeks, it seems so self-centered. Like it’s all about me. What’s in it for me? Me, me, me. That doesn’t sound like Jesus.”

     The light turned green. “Maybe we’ve got some wrong ideas about the life Jesus has for us. Maybe we’ve been thinking too small. I know I sure have. I grew up, you know, just plodding along, doing whatever was right even if it made me miserable. In college, when I transferred to the U of I, my roommate played baseball for the Illini. I didn’t have any friends, but my roomie frequently invited me to go out for pizza with him and the other guys on the team after a game. I always said no because I knew they’d order beer by the pitcher, and I didn’t know how to handle that. How miserable is that?”

     Nicole remained quiet. Greg glanced in the rearview mirror. Becky was sitting behind her mom with her head down, hands folded in her lap as though she was about to cry. Why? Were the kids scared because they were arguing? If so, it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t wanted to start an argument, just wanted to share his new vision with his wife, for pity’s sake. But he had to admit the tension over the last few weeks had wound him tighter than an old guitar string.

     “Hey, kids. What should we do this afternoon?” No answer. “Huh? Whaddaya say, Becky?”

     “I dunno.” Her voice was soft and muffled.

     Greg looked out the window. “The clouds are breakin’ up. We could go down to the lake. You wanna do that?”

     “Maybe.”

     Not much enthusiasm.

     Later, after a subdued Sunday dinner in the dining room, the kids ran upstairs to their rooms without mentioning the lake, something they usually responded to with glee. Knowing Nicole was still upset, Greg tried to make a gesture by helping clear the table rather than heading right down to the family room to watch the Chicago Cubs’ game on TV.

     She finally broke the silence as they carried dirty dishes into the kitchen. “Greg, I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to shut you down like I did. If you feel God gave you a vision this morning, I ought to be the first one to invite you to share it.”

     “Thanks. I appreciate that, ’cause I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. I mean—”

     “It wasn’t you, and I’m sorry. Why don’t you tell me about your vision?”

     Was it really safe to get into it now? She’d been touchy for weeks. Was there something else that needed attention first? Something he couldn’t put his finger on. But she seemed open to listening. “Okay. See, I’ve been thinkin’ . . . if God has more for us, it probably won’t be a sudden inheritance from some long-forgotten relative, but it might come from something we do, you know, perhaps starting a little business, like a home industry.” Greg set the last of the dirty dishes on the counter as Nicole started loading the dishwasher. “The kids are getting old enough that they could be involved. You’re always looking for teachable moments with the kids. What could be better than providing them with an example of real entrepreneurship right in our own home?”

     Nicole straightened, dirty dish in hand. “What are you talking about? You want
me
to start a home business?”

     “Well, yeah, maybe. Of course, it’d have to be the right kind, something the kids could be involved in. Not anything that’d take you outside the home like selling real estate or anything. I mean, the kids couldn’t be a part of showing houses to people, and besides you’d have to get a license for that. I’m talkin’ about something you’re good at, like . . . like cooking. You’re a great cook! Maybe you could do specialty baking like cupcakes for birthday parties. The kids could help cook and take orders and keep records, and . . . and . . .”

     Nicole gave a short laugh. “So you think I’m that good of a cook, do you?”

     “Well, sure. You could do it.” Though perhaps the idea of her baking cupcakes all day wasn’t so good. “Or maybe you could offer a pet walking service.”

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