Precinct 11 - 01 - The Brotherhood by Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

pitied. I don’t want to be cared for. I want to be left alone.”
    “You know that’s not healthy.”
    “Well, pardon me for not being healthy.”
    Finally Sosa rose and approached, but Boone was grateful he didn’t touch him. “Friend, listen. They didn’t teach us in seminary how to deal with stuff like this. I can’t make it make sense any more than you can, and you’re not going to hear me say that God’s got some kind of a master plan and that he’ll make it all clear to you someday. He does have a plan, but he’s not the author of death. All I can make of this is that it’s evidence of our fallen world. I’d love to be able to tell you that somehow because of this, a hundred wonderful things will happen that will make it worth it. That’s ridiculous and you know it better than I do. You want my prediction: we’re not going to know the why s this side of heaven. In the meantime, all we can do is put our shaky faith and trust in the God we know is sovereign.”
    “See? That’s it, Pastor! I’ve believed all my life God is sovereign! I know he’s out there. I just don’t know what he’s doing, and I don’t like what he’s allowing. Am I praying? You want to know that?”
    “I know you’re praying, Boone.”
    “You’re wrong, because I’m not. Frankly, I’m afraid of what I’d say to him.”
    “He can take it.”
    “I’ve been told that, too. I just have nothing to say to him. I don’t want to speak to him, I don’t want to sing about him, I don’t want to worship him, I don’t want to study him, read about him, or even talk about him. I don’t want to come to church anymore.”
    “I know you feel that way now—”
    “Do I ever. I’ll go to the funeral because Nikki would want me to, and I’d never hear the end of it from my family if I didn’t. But it’s going to be all I can do to sit through it. I know you’re going to worry about me and be praying for me and will keep coming after me, and I know you’ll think you’re doing the right thing. But I need the freedom to back away. Will you give me that right?”
    “Of course, Boone. You have a free will. You’re an adult. But again let me plead with you not to base your decisions on emotion. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. If you need time away, time to be alone, time to not be the center of attention, I understand that. I’ll support that. But don’t tell me I can never check in on you, see how you’re doing, find out what I can do.”
    Boone nodded miserably. How would it look to reject even that, much as he wanted to?
    “I can tell you one thing,” Sosa said. “People are going to want to rally around you, and you’ll rob them of a blessing if you turn them away.”
    “What do I care about their blessing? They can get blessed doing something for someone else.”
    “Fair enough, but just so you know.”
    As Francisco Sosa drove Boone back to Jack Keller’s apartment, he took a phone call from the funeral director. “He can see us this afternoon,” he told Boone.
    “I just want to get it over with.”
    “I’m sure he’ll make it as easy as possible. Boone, let me just leave you with one more word. Is that all right?”
    Boone shrugged.
    “There is such a thing as the nourishment and survival of the spiritual life. If you starve yourself spiritually, you can also die spiritually.”
    “I feel dead.”
    “Of course you do. How else could you feel? I’m going to accede to your wishes and leave you alone for a while after the funeral, but you can’t keep me from praying for you. And I just hope you’ll stay open to God trying to communicate to you, reminding you that he loves you in spite of how things look now. He will do this through friends and Christian brothers and sisters and relatives. I daresay he’s trying to speak to you through your partner. Jack’s been very good to you, hasn’t he?”
    Boone nodded. “And he’s not even a believer.”
    “That doesn’t mean God can’t use him. He