Breakfast Meeting

            "Good Morning, Jim,” said Tom as he slid into the seat across from his old friend. 

            Jim and Tom look forward to their weekly breakfast meeting, during which they discuss interesting and sometimes provocative topics. Both men are retired from public work, and though they have been friends for many years, these breakfast meetings have drawn them closer. 

            "Jim, the traffic out there is simply unbelievable," began Tom. "Everyone is driving dangerously fast; it is like they could care less about safely getting where they are going. Everywhere you look, people are just living too fast. It scares me to drive on Market Street during the morning rush hour," fussed Tom. 

            "Times are different," replied Jim, "but we have to expect that kind of thing with progress. It's one of those things we can't change," Jim said, not wanting to talk about traffic.

            For the past two years, Tom and Jim had greeted each other in the same fashion, each knowing they wouldn't miss this breakfast, regardless of the circumstances. They had come to respect each other, and though neither had mentioned it, they recognized a strong spiritual presence that was drawing them even closer. 

            "Shall I bring you the usual this morning, fellows, or would you like something from the menu?" said Linda as she brought them the first cups of coffee. 

            "I'll have the special," said Jim while Tom seemed to ponder the menu. 

            "And you want your eggs scrambled, your toast crisp, and your bacon crisp too," replied Linda, displaying a good working knowledge of the men. 

            “I'll have the special as well. Can I get you to leave off the bacon? My doctor wants me to cut back on the sodium," announced Tom without sounding excited. 

            "No problem," said Linda, as she scribbled down the order in restaurant shorthand

            Linda looked forward to serving these men because they were always very nice to her. They never fussed with her or accused her of making mistakes like some construction customers did. Linda thought it was nice that they always complimented her on her hair and clothes. She imagined they had learned well from their wives. Linda liked how the men talked about serious issues but never let anger spoil the meal. Linda recognized the strong friendship that bonded Tom and Jim and how they acted toward themselves and others. She wished all of her customers could be so nice.

            Jim would arrive a few minutes before 8:00, and Tom would arrive at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Jim would sit in the place he had long ago chosen as the best seat in the house, and then Tom would stroll in like he owned the place, speaking to all the servers as he went. All of the servers knew these men and treated them with respect. They never seated anyone in the seats the men had chosen long ago as ‘their seats.’ It was as though a permanent reservation was set for these two remarkable men. 

            "I'll get this for you right away," said Linda as she touched Jim lightly on the shoulder. "If you need anything else, just let me know," she said with the smallest amount of confusion. Linda knew something was wrong. When she touched Jim on the shoulder, he felt agitated. It was unusual because Jim had always responded to her touch with a remark or a small gesture of appreciation. Today, he remained silent, and now she noticed the tenseness in his eyes. His eyes projected a level of weariness she had never seen. As she walked away, she wondered if she should say something but passed it off as just an off day for Jim.

            Both men took their napkins and placed them on their laps as if on cue before taking a sip of hot coffee. With two hands around his cup and apparent hesitation, Jim said, "How do you know that God exists?" 

            Jim had considered this question for a long time. He had wanted to ask Tom many times before but felt guilty because both men were active deacons at Fellowship Baptist Church, and as such, both were expected to know the answer to such a question. He knew it would seem like a breach of faith if he voiced the question, but he had struggled and was desperate for an answer. He knew he could trust Tom, yet it was agony to ask. Now, Jim felt strangely at peace with the question out in the open.

            "How do I know? Said Tom, as if disbelieving the question. Tom was a bit surprised by the question because they usually talked about trivial, meaningless things before getting into anything serious. 

            "Well, He lives within my heart, as the song says, and like the preacher preaches," Tom said, hoping that would answer the question. 

            "Oh, come on, Tom, I am serious. I want to know," said Jim in a manner that told Tom a simple answer would not do. 

            "There just has to be more than that to explain the existence of God,” said Jim, emphasizing the word has. "I know this sounds pretty basic, but I have read about other ancient cultures lately, and I'm confused right now. I want to hear what you think about this, said Jim to further explain the strange question.

            Tom looked at his friend and suddenly felt unworthy of answering his question. He now noticed the tight grip on Jim's coffee cup and was ashamed of having tried to answer a complex question in such a simple manner. Now, he sees the sadness in Jim's eyes and the evidence of not getting much sleep. Tom knew the loneliness that Jim felt as a result of his wife's death nearly four months earlier. He and Jim had become closer after her death, and they often talked about her. Somehow, her death had changed Jim. Jim had become more reflective and more sincere. Lately, Tom noticed Jim slowly withdrawing from the community and church events. Now Jim was asking a difficult question, and Tom realized his response would be critical.

            "Jim, I know many things that are said sound rather simplistic, but when I say them, they do have meaning,” began Tom. "I have seen things in life that can only be attributed to God." 

            Tom paused a moment as if recalling a tough time. Jim understood the silence as not needing his input, and though Tom had lowered his face, Jim knew Tom’s expression had changed. He no longer had the look of traffic annoyance or laughter. With his hands clasped around his cup, Tom raised his head to continue. Jim noticed the most noticeable change, a small tear in Tom's eyes."  

            “I still remember the day my father died," Tom began rather softly. "You never knew him, but my dad lived what I believed to be the most perfect Christian life. He had loved and helped people more than can be written or talked about, yet he came down with a disease I couldn't even pronounce. At the time, I couldn't believe a real God would have allowed that to happen. The disease stripped him of his strength, and it quickly became necessary for someone to carry him wherever he needed to go. Later, he was bedridden with a pain that was constant and unbearable. Many times, I heard him crying when he thought no one could hear his anguished torment, yet even when his pain was at its most horrible level, he praised God for His forgiveness. On the day my father died, the pain had reduced his speech to an unintelligible murmur, and the doctors had told us the end was near.”

            Jim sat unmoving as Tom recounted his story. It seemed time had paused, and nothing mattered except the conversation between these two men. Though Jim had not anticipated Tom's explanation in such a detailed expression, he was powerless to interrupt, and more than that, he was moved in a way he had never experienced before. Jim also noticed a more substantial tear in Tom's eye that ran wildly down his cheek, making a wet spot on the table. Jim saw a tremendous man with the vitality of a moose with tears in a public place. Jim was moved with compassion for his friend.

            "I searched my father's room for the faces of those who loved him," said Tom, "and I was remembering special things about each." "My mother," he said, "was seeing the end of a forty-year marriage built on a powerful love. Her tears seemed to tell everyone who noticed their love was shared. My older brother had little to say in verbal expressions, but his face, too, showed his grief. I remember my father teaching him to drive the family car. We all laughed at his mistakes even though we knew we would someday make the same mistakes. The others in the room all had expressions of love and loss on their faces. It was then, while in the quiet suffering of us all, my father suddenly opened his eyes fully, and it appeared as though he was seeing something in the room. Jim, my dad, opened his eyes as if he had been healed,” said Tom, with emotion pouring from his soul.

            Tom seemed to straighten up a bit before continuing.

"Even though he had no strength left," said Tom, "my daddy raised both arms toward heaven, and in a loud, intelligible voice, he said, 'Thank you, dear Jesus. I'm coming home at last. When he had said this, his arms dropped to his side, and his eyes closed. My father had died," Tom said with the whole emotion of yesterday. "I looked at my father, and his face was peaceful. I could hardly believe my eyes at what I saw. Gone were the disfiguring marks of extreme pain. It was as if death itself had not only removed the pain, but it had also removed the idea of pain as well. It was as if Jesus himself had smoothed my father's face with His hand," said Tom. "I just couldn't believe he could look so much at peace," said Tom excitedly.

            It was as if Tom needed time to compose himself before continuing. 

            "I hope everything is as you like it," Linda said as she placed the hot but insignificant plates on the table. I'll warm your coffee, and if you need anything else, just let me know. " She turned to get the coffee. 

            Jim hadn't noticed how tightly he was gripping the coffee cup until he gave it to Linda to fill. A great mixture of feelings was running through Jim that he could not explain. Jim wanted to run and hide; he wanted to cry, he wanted to sing, and he wanted to talk. Strangely, though, he was not hungry.

            Tom also loses his desire to eat because he continues his story without taking a bite.

            "I believe it was God who gave my father the power to raise his arms and speak," said Tom. "Nothing in this world could have given him the energy to move in such a manner, and God had to take away the pain from his face. I believe God did that to instruct a rebellious son about faith and commitment,” he explained.

            “Shortly after Dad's funeral, I rededicated my life to God because I wanted to be able to approach death in as serious a fashion as my father had done. I wanted to hold on to something that was not just for the day and something that would not change," Tom said in answer to Jim's earlier question. "His death had caused me to realize God was what I had been looking for," said Tom with conviction.

            "Yes, I have heard the cliché people use for tough times," said Tom, "but the folks that use them are sincere in wanting to help."  

            "You are correct; they used cliché back then, too, but it never bothered me too much," Tom offered. "I know that it is difficult to express God's presence in more earthly ways, and when we do, it seems we are weakening the truth of God. I believe God is spirit, and if He is to have expression here on earth, then it will have to be with and through people like us who know Him," Tom said, hoping Jim would understand. "Sometimes it appears it doesn't work very well, but who are we to judge success and failure for something as important as eternity?"

            "Unfortunately, we are prone to make mistakes. I suppose he could have shown us all a blinding light like he did for Paul, but isn't it more incredible that He is allowing us to participate in His kingdom here on earth in such a marvelous fashion?" "It is His will that we all have a means of participating in His work here," Tom said. "You know what is incredible?" Tom asked rhetorically, " His success lies in our ability to communicate this to the world."

            Jim felt at peace for the first time since his wife Janie died. He had become worried that his faith was in vain and that God was only a myth. He couldn't get it out of his mind that if God did exist, then why didn't He heal his wife? 

            Jim felt he had done all that was required of him; he had prayed according to the scriptures and had believed in miracles. Now, through Tom's story, he knew the answer. God had not forsaken him but rather had continued to guide him. It was God who directed him to ask Tom this problematic question. Suddenly, Jim felt the resistance fall from him, and he began to weep. He lowered his head and silently thanked God for guiding him this morning and for his good friend Tom, and then Jim rededicated his life to God. 

            Both Jim and Tom eventually ate their breakfast and discussed other things. Jim had been honest enough to express his doubt, and Tom had been sincere enough to tell his story and thus magnificently proclaim his love for God. Regarding breakfast meetings, none could have been more critical because of their newfound love for God and each other.

            Nearly two years after this meeting, Tom suffered an aneurysm and was rushed to the hospital. The doctors worked desperately to repair the damaged blood vessels but to no avail. Tom died quietly without waking from his sleep. When Jim paid his respects at the mortuary, he noticed a change in Tom's appearance. Tom had always sported a rugged appearance due to his many years of work outside, but now his face had changed. Jim was sure there were fewer lines and wrinkles, but more than that, he was sure Tom had the beginnings of a smile, the same type of smile his wife had when she died. Suddenly, Jim remembered the breakfast encounter that had changed his life. Now, as he looked upon the face of his dead friend, he knew Tom was resting in Heaven. Through tears that stained his shirt, Jim silently thanked God for his friend and that extraordinary breakfast encounter.

CP   1991