Used
I finally found success in an early morning walking routine. I’ve been struggling for months to be consistent and effective. Laziness, time, weather, and even physical pain have gotten in the way. Well last week, I walked four times and three of those times were for 10 miles each. So, this morning, I was determined to stay motivated. After a difficult night of very little sleep only to find that my phone was not charged, I left 45 minutes later than anticipated, but I still got out the door.
It wasn’t long before my feet were throbbing and I thought, “8 miles isn’t bad. Maybe I’ll just do 8.” At the halfway mark, I started debating calling it quits. Then I pushed through. At 6, 7, then 8 miles down, I almost turned to go home being at a location on my route that was close to it. In a split second, I made the decision to do the last two miles even though every joint was hurting.
Rounding the corner to the part of my route I don’t always travel down, I noticed a book lying on the sidewalk almost teetering on the curb. It looked like it could be a Bible. As I got closer, it resembled the Bible I had growing up. Having no contacts in, I leaned down slightly squinting my uncorrected eyes while walking past. Though dirty, it was identical to my old one, so I momentarily stopped to flip the cover open. Nope, it wasn’t mine and I quickly started walking again not wanting to break my stride for too long. Of course it wasn’t mine. Mine was at home up in the hall cupboard. I prayed that the owners would come back and find it, and then I stopped in my tracks. What was I thinking? I guess it was so early in the morning, I wasn’t thinking. I can’t just leave God’s Word on the sidewalk of a busy street. I ran back, swooped it up, and ran ahead to where I was before adjusting my pace to finish my walk. I did quickly open it to where there was a newspaper clipping and two memorial service programs stuffed in Ezekiel. “Oh,” I thought, “If the owner had recently been to a funeral, I’ll just contact the church or funeral home and see if I can track him down.”
After my 10 miles were up, and I was back at home, I pulled out the inserts to investigate. 1974? The newspaper clipping and one memorial program were from 1974. The other program was from 1975. One was a 50 year old woman, and the other an 86 year old woman. So, I read more carefully the inscription in the beginning. “The day of your acceptance of Christ as your own personal Savior,” was written in ink. It was presented to a Raymond by a Reverend Donaldson on April 7, 1974. I realized that the last name was the same name of the 50 year old woman who had died in ’74, and her service was only 4 days after Raymond received Christ. I wondered what the story was behind that. One can only conclude that they were connected.
After reading the inserted obituary of Raymond’s mother, Zola, I googled his name only to find that he too had passed away on April 22, the one year anniversary of which was only a day before I found it. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to return this treasure because the only city referenced on every source was San Jose. How in the world did this Bible get here in Tracy? Well I had no choice. I wrote down every surviving family member’s name listed on the online obituary for Raymond as well as their relation to him. I planned to search each one beginning with his step-mother who was listed as his caregiver for the last 3 years of his life. Poor man, he was only 60 years old. He must’ve had a debilitating disease.
He had 2 surviving sisters, 2 step-brothers and a step-sister. I guess his father had since passed. He had no wife or children, but many nieces and nephews. Yet, before I left his obituary page to plug in some names in a people search, I noticed there was an online guest book. I couldn’t resist. There were 20 entries and I read every one of them. I learned that Raymond was a humorous man. He was a church going man. He was a loyal friend and a hard worker. Each entry had a name and a city listed. Lo and behold the last entry was a woman from Tracy. Ah Ha! Who is this woman? Well, her name is Carolyn, and looking back at the family members I had written down, she was his step-sister. So, the only thing left for me to do was track down Carolyn.
She was quite easy to find. I found online her phone number and address. I also found her age, profession, gender of her kids, and that she’s the president of the PTO of a local elementary school. I wondered if she was the one who organized this online site for her departed brother. After all, she was the last entry which really meant the first since the dates went backwards. I wondered if she realized that this Bible of Raymond’s was missing. Now her address was no where near mine, but there were garage sales all over the neighborhoods this past weekend…at least 30 in my development and the neighboring ones. I wondered if that’s how it got over on my side of town.
I thought about how I almost didn’t go down that street, how the Bible resembled my own, and then I thought about the time I spend in prayer in the beginning of my walk. I had specifically asked God to use me today. Is this God’s answer to my prayer? Well, it was time to call Carolyn.
I made two attempts with no answer. That’s not the happy ending I was anticipating. So I wrote down directions to her address thinking that I’d find her later when I would be out running errands. Later came much later. It wasn’t until after 6 before I finally pulled up to the address of Carolyn and family.
There was a man outside putting things into the back of an SUV. I parked and walked up with my youngest by my side. I asked the man if a Carolyn lived there. He confirmed and was curious as to why I asked. “I think I have something that belongs to her,” I responded pulling the Bible out of my purse. “That’s not her Bible,” he contested. “Well, I think it belonged to her brother.” I opened the first page to show him the name, and the gentleman was surprised and impressed at the same time. He informed me that Raymond had passed away a year ago the 22nd. I told him that I knew that because I had searched online to find out how to return the lost item. He called for his wife to come outside still feeling excited over the matter.
When the woman walked out, she looked suspicious of me and did not come across very friendly. In fact, she did not recognize the Bible, nor did she seem impressed with the find. I related the story of how I stumbled upon it, and her non-emotional, non-pleasant response was simply, “That’s strange. I wonder how it got there.”
I told her there were tons of garage sales in my neighborhood and asked if she had been to any over the weekend. Apparently, her mother, who now lives in Tracy right around the corner from my own house, had a garage sale this weekend and was selling books. The husband and I both asked at the same time, “Why would your mother sell Raymond’s Bible?”
Carolyn shrugged her shoulders, and then very professionally thanked me for my extra effort. I turned to walk away, and two steps down the driveway, I heard the garage door close behind me. This was definitely not the happy ending I expected God to provide.
Of course, there’s no way I can know what was going through the mind of Carolyn at that moment, what her relationship was with her step-brother prior to his passing, or even why God insisted as far as I’m concerned that Raymond’s Bible be returned to her. All I know is that I saw a glimpse into a man I never met…the date of his spiritual birth, the date that he buried his mother as a young man of 23, and 20 entries of how he will be missed. But how missed was he? It was hard to tell by the way Carolyn was acting.
Maybe she was angry as she discovered how much a stranger can easily learn about her and her extended family. I was actually shocked by it myself. Maybe she was the one who placed the Bible in the box of used books to be sold, and it ended up back in her hands. Maybe she adored her brother, but could care less about a Bible, or a God for that matter. And maybe that very God she cares nothing for plans to use her dearly departed loved one, Raymond, to minister to her from the grave.
I certainly know this…my circumstances brought me around that corner straight to that Bible, and I did what I knew was right. I was used to bring a used Bible to a used family. God truly did use me, but I’m sure I’ll never know exactly how fully used I was this day.
So is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
Isaiah 55:11
Amie Spruiell 4/23/2012
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