The Visitation by Frank Peretti Read Free Book Online

thinking about painting the van/Bruce Hiddle still smokes. I wonder if he should be on the deacon board?/Emily Kelmer wants us to sing ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,’ but I don’t think that’s a worship song/Did you know Jeff Lundgren doesn’t want to do the Young Explorers anymore?/How often did you preach on giving?/We need to develop the children’s ministry—”
    He was out to cover everything. He talked fast, he talked loud, he got more and more excited, and I just sat there trying to gauge if my nerves could last longer than this seeming catharsis. I could feel a lingual tonsil starting to swell up. I began to feel a gnawing pain in my stomach.
    Then it came: the one sentence predestined from all eternity for this moment, this place—exactly what it would take to set me off: “Travis, we’re going to take this city for Christ!”
    “ We?!? ” My voice came so loud and sudden it made him jump. It also made him stop talking. I leaned forward in my chair, so far I almost stood up. “Now you listen to me.” I said it slowly, and I know I sounded downright vicious. “Have you even asked this town if it wants to be taken for Christ? Have you even met the folks down at Judy’s or working at Kiley’s Hardware or Anderson’s Furniture and Appliance and gotten their input? I guarantee you, Kyle, I know some people around here who do not wish to be taken for Christ.” He looked like he was about to interrupt, but I didn’t give him a chance. “No one . . . has ever . . . taken a city for Christ. Not Paul, not Peter, nobody. Not even Christ took a city for Christ.”
    Now I did stand up, too upset to hold still. “You come cruising into this town throwing that big, glorious claim around as if it were some kind of mandate from the throne of God, but who’s going to do all the work in the real world? I suppose you think everyone in town has his own transportation, so you won’t have to organize a car and bus route and deal with people who don’t want to come that Sunday but didn’t call, or people who aren’t ready on time so you have to sit there waiting for them while all the other people on the route are wondering where you are, and everybody ends up getting there late.
    “And once you take this town for Christ, what are you going to do with all the kids? Is Judy Milton still breast-feeding Baxter right out in the open during the service?”
    “I was going to ask you about that.”
    “Ah! Aha! That boy’s old enough to unbutton her blouse himself. Want some more? Of course, babies don’t just nurse. They scream too, and there are plenty of mothers out there who are going to sit there with that kid and let him drown out your sermon— during the most important part, I might add. You might ask them to take the kid out, and some might, but they’ll be back with the same kid the next week. Either that, or they’ll get huffy and not come back at all.
    “Which brings me to the nursery sign-up sheet. Keep that puppy circulating or somebody’s going to get stuck in there doing the job alone and forever while all the parents dump their kids on them. Same goes for children’s ministry. Be careful you don’t find anyone too good at it, because they’ll get stuck with the job until they burn out. And then the parents will start to mutter about who’s going to take charge of the kids, and maybe some of them will step forward to do something about it, and some of them will just go elsewhere.
    “Youth ministry? It’s the greatest, but don’t you dare make a mistake. Because after you’ve done anything and everything to disciple those kids, it’s your mistakes the parents will tell you about.
    “How’s your car running? Once you take this town for Christ you’re going to have to visit every person, every family, until you run yourself ragged and your wife starts to complain that you’re never home. You’ll be so busy visiting that folks will start complaining that you never come to visit.
    “In the