Grace saw her out the front door, thanking her again, before closing it. She covered her face, overwhelmed with what had just happened. “Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, thank You!” Laughing, she scooped up Samuel and kissed his chubby cheeks. “What do you think of your new home, Rapscal? Isn’t God good to us?”
Setting Samuel down again, she called Aunt Elizabeth. “Guess what? Samuel and I have a two-bedroom house! Would you like to come up this weekend and see it?”
Aunt Elizabeth didn’t speak for a moment, and then answered in a husky voice. “Yes. I’d like that very much. All I need is an address.”
“East Twenty-Second Street.” Grace laughed. “Hold on. I have to go outside to tell you the number. I forgot to look.”
ROMAN SAW NO POINT in keeping a big house on a mountaintop when he was spending so much time at a church in the valley. He decided to clean out the detritus of his life and put the place on the market. He filled plastic bags with spray cans and tubes of old paint and had the pile taken to a toxic waste company.
It took three days to whitewash his studio walls, obliterating all signs of his work. A flooring company refinished the hardwood. A two-bedroom apartment was available in the complex where Brian lived. Roman applied online and got it.
He left most of his furniture in the Topanga Canyon house. The real estate agent, who specialized in selling luxury homes, had said the house was perfectly staged. Modern. Minimalist. “The furniture might just sweeten the deal. If not, we’ll sell it for you.”
He had his books, clothing, the bedroom furniture Grace had picked, and a fresh start ahead.
“Must be nice to have freedom enough to do whatever you want.” The real estate agent had looked envious.
Free? This was just the first step out of the cage he’d built around himself. Right now, he wanted to get as far away as possible from the life he’d created and live the one God had planned for him. And that seemed to be enlisting a group of ex-gangbangers into helping him paint graffiti on a church wall. Settled in his apartment with one bedroom dedicated to drafting table, art supplies, and books, Roman set to work on the drawings for the church mural. The project kept his mind off Grace. He’d handed over the landscape to Talia, giving her permission to sell it. When she asked what he planned to do next, he said it wouldn’t be anything she could put on a gallery wall.
As ideas took form on paper, his focus and excitement for the work grew. He’d be doing this piece in the open with a crew to help, but the rush he’d always felt doing graffiti was returning, keeping him going. He worked until his shoulders and back ached. He stood and stretched, pacing until the pain diminished, then went back to work. He didn’t feel driven; he felt inspired. This was something new.
Brian came by to see the progress. “I saw your other work at the gallery show, but this is something else!”
“Yeah,” Roman agreed without arrogance. He studied the painting. It looked like someone else’s work, not his own. God was in this, and Roman felt exhilarated, excited, alive. Art had always been his means of expression, a way to pour out his wrath and frustration, but this work had a whole new dimension. He knew the One who had inspired him and why. This universal Christ triumphant hadn’t come out of his mind, but had been planted by the Lord.
Praise God, all you people of the earth. Praise the Lord!
How many years had he been searching for something to fill the void in his life? He’d tried everything—wandering, work, women. He’d fallen in love with Grace, but now he wondered what would have happened if they had gotten together. He’d still have been hungry for more.
Grace knew the Lord and loved Him. She had tried to take Roman by the hand and bring him to the altar, but he’d resisted, even after his near-death experience in hell. Why had he been so stubborn?
Maybe Grace had to be out of his life in order for him to get right with God. As long as she’d been around, his thoughts focused on her. His desire had clouded his thinking, distracted him from heeding the call of God. She had already fully committed herself to living for the Lord. He hadn’t yet made that life-and soul-altering decision. Now, he understood.
I still love her, Lord. You know how much. You hear my prayers in the middle of the night. But, oh, God, as much as I love Grace, it doesn’t compare to what I feel in Your presence. I sense You all around me and inside me. You are enough. More than enough.
Roman knew only too well that God had the power to stop and start a heart. The life of any man or woman rested in the palm of His scarred hand. It took a trip to hell to teach him Jesus was the Way, the Truth, and the Life.