restless at the same time. Later he watched her eat dinner and then said good-bye and rode home on his bike. It had felt good to get out in the fresh night air. The temperature had dropped, and the cold air blew down on him from the mountains. It kept Archie awake and alert, but once home he felt the fatigue and couldn't wait to climb into bed.
Lying on the bed Archie closed his eyes and prayed. He wanted God. He wanted to feel the bliss, the ecstasy that he had felt in the tobacco field and again up on the mountain with Clare, being baptized by God's holy water He didn't want to worry about his grandmother. He didn't want to keep wondering what would happen if she died. She had looked so frail that afternoon, lying in the bed, doped up on pain medication. Seeing her that way scared him.
Archie prayed. "Use me, Lord. I want to serve you. Show me how to serve you. Please, God, show me." Tears fell from his eyes; his desire was so great, and so was his fatigue. He was tired, yet he couldn't sleep. He grabbed his wool blanket, rose from his bed, and went outside to sit in the rocker on the porch, where he rocked and prayed until at last he fell asleep.
Over the next two weeks, Archie spent as much time as he could each day praying and meditating on the mountain. When he came down in the evenings, he would find messages waiting for him on the answering machine. His grandmother's friends called to check up on him and to let him know they had been by to see him. Other callers just wanted to know how his grandmother was doing. Reverend Fox asked why he hadn't seen Archie in church lately and offered to find him rides to church and to the hospital. Bruce, Art, and Mr. Flyte from his baseball team wondered why Archie hadn't shown up for tryouts, and two friends from his home-schooling group wondered where he had been and if he still planned to go on the camping trip to the Smokies with them. Archie deleted the messages. All of those people seemed like friends he had known in another lifetime. They had nothing to do with him now.
Sometimes at night he would sit down at his desk and draw. One night, though, he picked up his colored pencils and tried to finish his drawings for another story about the Back Street Thrasher but the story seemed stupid to him and his illustrations a waste of time. He sat with his work and stared at the frames on the page. He had drawn the sequence like a comic strip, just like the other illustrations he'd taped to the walls of his bedroom. He looked at them and wondered how his stupid drawings served God. He drew a tree in the space he'd left blank on the page, then tore the whole thing up. Nothing felt right to him anymore, except praying and waiting for God. He'd told Clare that all he wanted to do was pray, and she had said that he could then move on to the next stage and instead of saying "Be still and know that I am God" for three hours, he should say "Be still and know that I am" for
four
hours, and spend the rest of the time in silence and stillness.
Archie was surprised that taking away the word
God
and just saying "Be still and know that I am" changed the prayer's meaning. Instead of thinking about God's presence in all things, he thought about God's existence. "In my stillness I will know that God exists," he said, and he knew that it was a knowledge that would come from within and not because someone in church told him so.
Every day he said the words and waited for the transformation. He lived for the ecstatic experience of God's presence in him. Each time he sat down to pray, he tried to find his way back to that place within, but the harder he tried, the more elusive it became. He spoke to Clare about it after trying for several days, and she told him to fast and to pray six hours a day saying "Be still and know." Those words, he believed, opened a whole new world to him. "In my stillness I will know all things," he said, and he believed it was true. The more he was able to still his mind
Lying on the bed Archie closed his eyes and prayed. He wanted God. He wanted to feel the bliss, the ecstasy that he had felt in the tobacco field and again up on the mountain with Clare, being baptized by God's holy water He didn't want to worry about his grandmother. He didn't want to keep wondering what would happen if she died. She had looked so frail that afternoon, lying in the bed, doped up on pain medication. Seeing her that way scared him.
Archie prayed. "Use me, Lord. I want to serve you. Show me how to serve you. Please, God, show me." Tears fell from his eyes; his desire was so great, and so was his fatigue. He was tired, yet he couldn't sleep. He grabbed his wool blanket, rose from his bed, and went outside to sit in the rocker on the porch, where he rocked and prayed until at last he fell asleep.
Over the next two weeks, Archie spent as much time as he could each day praying and meditating on the mountain. When he came down in the evenings, he would find messages waiting for him on the answering machine. His grandmother's friends called to check up on him and to let him know they had been by to see him. Other callers just wanted to know how his grandmother was doing. Reverend Fox asked why he hadn't seen Archie in church lately and offered to find him rides to church and to the hospital. Bruce, Art, and Mr. Flyte from his baseball team wondered why Archie hadn't shown up for tryouts, and two friends from his home-schooling group wondered where he had been and if he still planned to go on the camping trip to the Smokies with them. Archie deleted the messages. All of those people seemed like friends he had known in another lifetime. They had nothing to do with him now.
Sometimes at night he would sit down at his desk and draw. One night, though, he picked up his colored pencils and tried to finish his drawings for another story about the Back Street Thrasher but the story seemed stupid to him and his illustrations a waste of time. He sat with his work and stared at the frames on the page. He had drawn the sequence like a comic strip, just like the other illustrations he'd taped to the walls of his bedroom. He looked at them and wondered how his stupid drawings served God. He drew a tree in the space he'd left blank on the page, then tore the whole thing up. Nothing felt right to him anymore, except praying and waiting for God. He'd told Clare that all he wanted to do was pray, and she had said that he could then move on to the next stage and instead of saying "Be still and know that I am God" for three hours, he should say "Be still and know that I am" for
four
hours, and spend the rest of the time in silence and stillness.
Archie was surprised that taking away the word
God
and just saying "Be still and know that I am" changed the prayer's meaning. Instead of thinking about God's presence in all things, he thought about God's existence. "In my stillness I will know that God exists," he said, and he knew that it was a knowledge that would come from within and not because someone in church told him so.
Every day he said the words and waited for the transformation. He lived for the ecstatic experience of God's presence in him. Each time he sat down to pray, he tried to find his way back to that place within, but the harder he tried, the more elusive it became. He spoke to Clare about it after trying for several days, and she told him to fast and to pray six hours a day saying "Be still and know." Those words, he believed, opened a whole new world to him. "In my stillness I will know all things," he said, and he believed it was true. The more he was able to still his mind
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