Magic Street Page 0,114

I know about the life your son had?

"But Jesus knows about his life. Jesus grew up in a good family, too. A mother and father who worked hard and loved him and took care of him. Jesus kept the commandments and served God.

And they took him out and crucified him cause they didn't like the things he said. You think Jesus doesn't know what it's like to be in jail for a crime you didn't commit? You think Mary didn't know what it's like to have them take your son away and put him on trial and all the people shouting,

'Crucify him!'?

"I'm not preaching here today because I know anything. I don't. I'm too young. My life's been too easy. I'm here today because Jesus knows. It's the good news of Jesus that I want to bring you."

For a lot of them, that was good. They moved a little closer, then nodded, they murmured their assent.

But for others, the ones coming to see something sensational, it was over. They started to walk away.

Rev Theo spoke from behind him. "You doing fine, Word."

Word turned gratefully to smile at him. That's when he saw Mack and Yolanda come out of the door of the church, between the two deacons watching over the collection bowls. He felt a stab of guilt over having performed what amounted to a sham marriage, just so they could hump like bunnies in the pastor's own office. What was he thinking? Even if Mack was somehow magically eighteen, he was still younger than she was. No way did he understand what he was doing, how he was being used. Magically and sexually and every other way.

Speaking of being used...

He felt the invisible hand reach up his spine and spread through the back of his head. It felt to him as if the hand was somehow connected to Mack. And as it touched him, Yolanda winked at him, as if she was aware of what was happening.

He turned back around to face the congregation in the street. "Sister," he said, "your son in prison - what you don't know is that he did the murder he was convicted of. And he killed two other boys that you don't know about. And he's not sorry about it. His heart is like stone. He lies to you and tells you that he didn't do it, but the tears he sheds aren't remorse, they're because inside that prison he is fighting for his life against men much tougher and more dangerous than he is. And all the time that he's bowing before their brutal will, he's remembering how powerful he felt when he killed those boys and dreaming of the day when he can kill again."

"Sister, I pray for your son. I pray that the Lord will turn his heart to repent. But most of all I pray for you. You have another son at home, sister. He's a good boy, but you don't even notice him because he's not the one in trouble. All the time you worry about the son in prison, but what about the son who obeys you and works hard at school and gets teased by other kids because he's a good student and all the time his brother's gang is trying to get him to join up. Where are you for that son?

The prodigal is not ready to come home. Why don't you love the son you have?"

"I love my boy! Don't tell me I don't love my boy!"

"You have the power of healing in your hands, sister," said Word. "Go home and lay your hand upon your good son's brow. Touch his head and say, 'Thank you Jesus for this good boy,' and you will see how the Lord pours out his blessing upon you."

"I didn't come here for you to tell me I'm a bad mother!" she shouted.

"You came here for the miracle you want, but I'm telling you how to get the miracle you need.

When that murderer repents and turns to Jesus, then you'll see a miracle in his life, too. But he won't get a miracle while you don't even have faith enough to do what the Lord tells you to do for your good son."

A fiery young woman standing next to her yelled at him. "God supposed to bring comfort!"

"God brings comfort to those who repent. But those who still love their sins and won't give them up, God doesn't bring comfort to them! He brings good news to them. He