There Must Be Something More

72 | Romans 8:28, Charlie

"You think he'll be fine?" I asked. I looked at Meredith square in front of me. She rode shotgun this time. Trey's convertible was parked right outside the convenience store and Meredith had volunteered to stay with me in the car while they bought stuff for dinner. They said I needed some rest with my injury and all.

Meredith turned to me. A lock of her brown hair fell on her shoulder as she did. The light of the convenience store illuminated her fair face, and she looked grim. She stared at me for a long time, and then she turned her back on me.

I sighed.

"Liam might still be in shock right now," she said, not answering my question. "Let's pray for him. Only God can speak to his heart. It's only God's voice that can bring his dead spirit to life."

"I hate hearing that word," I said.

"What word?"

"Dead, death, die," I said. I hung my head and stared at the starry sky. I imagined God looking down on me just as I was looking up. What could He be thinking about Liam? Is He as desperate for Liam to be saved as me?

"Me too," Meredith said. 

In all of the times that I've had conversations with her, this was the first she had very few to say. Of course in the coming years I knew more and more of her, and she spoke often less when it came to certain situations, but this was the first--right there, outside the convenience store, at 7 PM Mountain Standard Time, when we were sixteen years old.

And then the dam burst.

It was as if the emotions had been building up inside of me for quite a long time now but I hadn't had the chance to let them out. And I wished I had let them out a little earlier with no one around. But Meredith was right there. And then came Trey. Then Samuel. Then Grandpa Chuck.

I had my hands covering my face, but the tears found their way through them. I imagined my ugly, sorrowful face and I wanted to laugh. But I couldn't. I was too sad.

"It's my fault, It's my fault," I kept repeating over and over.

No one denied it. But I was sure they wanted to. But I knew they also knew that if they did, I'd feel even worse. Most of the times, the best thing you could do for someone who's going through something is to listen and not say a word. And that's what they did for me that time. I smile at the thought of it years later.

I never should've used friendship to evangelize Liam. If I had talked to him about God from the start, I would have had more chances to explain to him about Him. I would have taken him to church too. I would have.

I would have.

It was like a nightmare. I kept seeing the saguaro bursting through the windshield. Liam's slumping, unconscious state on the glove compartment. I remembered all the glass shards on his head, on my arms. 

And I blamed myself even more.

Right before Trey dropped me off and said good-bye, Grandpa Chuck said, "Romans 8:28, Charlie. Romans 8:28."

I watched them drive away, waving.

It seemed like such a long time since I opened my Bible app. I looked for Romans 8:28.

In the quietness and stillness, I read it aloud: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."

I closed my eyes. God, please, please, please, save Liam. I still have a lot of things to tell him, to show him. Things I never got to show and tell... Michael. You know that, right? God, please. Please. I don't want to lose a brother again. You said so You'll work out everything good for those who love You, right? Please let this work out for me.

At that time I didn't see the fact that I was practically bribing or bargaining with God. It was only until several years later, thinking back on it, that I realized how stupid that was. How lack of faith that was.

But still, God worked in the most mysterious and wonderful ways.

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I didn't know what was more irritating.

The sound of my alarm clock going off or Mom's foot banging on the door. Either way I woke up.

"Charlie! Breakfast! Please let me know you're still alive--and why do you lock your door?" She demanded.

I clicked the off button on my alarm clock and walked to my door to open it. My side still hurt, but I managed to walk fine. At least slowly.

Mom met me in a bear hug as soon as I saw her. My side hurt even more.

"You're killing me," I told her. "Literally."

She chuckled and kissed me on the forehead. "You're okay. I was terribly worried when you locked your room and didn't make a sound. I thought you were..."

"Mom, I'm fine," I assured her. I sighed. "Mom, I'm sorry for causing trouble like this. I promise I'll be more careful next time."

"Apology accepted," she said. "Actually, your dad and I were talking about this last night. And we've come to a conclusion."

"What kind of conclusion?" I was worried. The tone of her voice didn't sound so good.

"You're grounded. Two weeks. You can't use your car to drive anywhere."

I gulped. Relief swept over me. That was all there was to it.

"I understand," I said. "But how will I get to school?"

"You've got legs, don't you?"

"Mom, it's, like, seven miles!" 

She smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Then ask one of your church friends to drive you there. They've been of great help in the hospital. I wouldn't mind leaving you to their care. Besides, Meredith lives a few blocks away. You can go ask her right after breakfast."

"I'll probably have to walk in crutches," I muttered, following her to the dining table.

"Better that than in a coffin, right?" Dad joked.

"That's not even funny." I grabbed a handful of asparagus seeds from a bowl beside the spoon and forks and threw it at his face. He laughed.

----------

"So, can I?" 

Meredith chopped off a great amount of weeds in the middle of their front lawn. She looked up at me from her crouching position and grinned.

"Of course!" She said.

"I actually need you to drive me to the hospital after lunch, maybe?" I asked.

"Okay. What for?"

"I need crutches. Can't go to school without them, I guess."

She grinned again. "I'd love to."

"Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver," I said, sitting cross-legged down the freshly-trimmed grass.

Then Meredith's house's front door burst open and Grandpa Chuck came out, holding his cell phone. He looked at us grimly. He had his eyes on me first, and then to Meredith.

"We have to get back to the hospital," he said.

Meredith looked puzzled. "Charlie said he's going to buy the crutches after--"

"This is an emergency," he said.

Meredith and I exchanged confused glances.