Free Microsoft Word - Jakefinalnoappex.doc by Wayne Jacobsen Page B

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    encourages them with drawing near to Jesus, not trying to fix everybody with our answers for the universe.”
    “Where can I find that, John? Is there a place like that in Kingston?”
    “Jake, you misunderstand. It is not a place, it’s a way of living alongside other believers. Are there others
    who want to live this way? Sure. And you’ll find each other in time. But first, let it change you.”
    I pulled up to the bus depot and stopped and John popped the handle on the door. “I’d better run, Jake, I’m
    going to be late for the bus.”
    “Can’t you give me a number where I can get a hold of you in case I need to talk?”
    “That’s not as easy to do as you might think,” John said, stepping out of the car, closing the door. “I’ll find
    you again, I’m sure of that,” he said, leaning back through the open window.
    “I’m not.”
    “Take care, Jake. You’re on the right path. It may get worse before it gets better, but it’s the same with
    surgery. But when it does finally get better, it’s going to get really better!”
    “It doesn’t feel that way.”
    “I know. Getting to the end of ourselves is not the fun part. It’s just the first part. At that time, the closer we get the further we feel like we are from him. That’s why I want to encourage you to just keep hanging in
    there with Jesus. He’ll sort all of this out in ways you’d never believe if I could tell you today.”
    “Thanks, John. That helps.” As he turned to walk away, I suddenly remembered one thing I hadn’t asked
    him. “Can’t you at least tell me your last name?”
    The taxi honking behind me must have drowned out my request, because John walked through the doors
    without turning back.

    So You Don’t Want to Go To Church Anymore
    Page 46

    - 5 -
    Love With a Ho k

    I came up here to get away from it all, but I ended up bringing it all with me. I don’t think a single minute of
    my waking hours had been free of thoughts about what was going on back home. My emotions seethed
    with frustration and anger that even this pristine setting could not soothe.
    Nellie Lake is one of my favorite spots on earth. It lies in the high Sierras at the end of a five-mile trail that snakes almost straight up hill. They say in California if you hike 20 minutes from the road you lose 90% of
    the fishermen. This is a two-and-a-half hour hike and I rarely see anyone else here even in the middle of
    summer. This was early September and I had the whole lake to myself on this crisp afternoon.
    It’s a small lake, but I’ve always caught plenty of good-sized rainbow trout here. What’s more, it’s the only
    place where I’ve caught fish that actually act like the fish on the cover of those outdoor magazines. When
    you hook them they leap straight out of the water in a desperate attempt to throw your hook and swim free.
    Of course, I’m certain I love that action far more than the fish do.
    Laurie had gone out of town to visit her parents for a week. On a whim and in a fit of frustration I decided to
    pull our tent trailer up to Huntington Lake for a few days of personal retreat. I had already typed up my
    resignation, but hid it in my desk until I could think things through.
    I had taken to heart my last conversations with John and in the six months since I’d seen him, my
    relationship with God had really begun to grow. I was more aware of his presence throughout the day. I
    was just beginning to learn how to trust him more than my own efforts, when the church at home erupted in
    conflict. Somehow I had lost sight of God in it all and found myself once again looking for John’s familiar
    face in every crowd of people I passed. I had finally given up and decided to run away, if only for a few days.
    For the past two hours I had perched myself on the south side of Nellie Lake and had fished with a
    vengeance. Even though I had caught almost 20 fish and enjoyed reeling them to shore, such moments
    provided only a momentary