When One Door Closes

They were the best of times and the worst of times. In a few short months our pastor went East. Kathy and Chris went back home to Oklahoma, where Kathy died in the hospital. We had no idea what Chris would do with his two children. We did our best to keep the lines of communication open with his mother in case Chris got sick and the children needed us.


It was time for us as a family to count our blessings. We voted in a new pastor and turned a corner on winter. But then our contract with Service Master was lost. The company asked if I would move to Ohio. We were at a crossroads but convinced that we should stay in upstate, NY. We decided if God was in it we'd start our own cleaning business. Why not? With a few hundred dollars and a few prayers, we jumped into the business.

On the first day, I loaded up the carpet extractor and drove out to find some work. I had no idea where to start, so I kept it in my comfort zone and drove down the road by our church. I stopped over into the parking lot and caught the new pastor heading out. I told him that I was looking for carpet cleaning work. He seemed in a hurry and politely shrugged me off.

Once again my best and most powerful prayers seemed to be in my car. Fear had a vice-grip on my heart, as I started toward the main road. Then tears swelled and blinded my driving. I pulled over on a gravel section near the church. I banged on the wheel and cried out to God! I feared failure as if it were a disease. My family was counting on me, and my kids needed to see God's hand in this. As cars zipped by, folks might have thought I was having a seizure or a mental breakdown.

Between sobs, I asked God, "Please, God, if this is to be our ministry, if this is to be a living too, show me your greatness, show me your love and mercy. You promised you would not leave your children to beg for bread." I'm not sure I remember all the words. I just know I wiped the tears that stung my eyes, and as I entered the main road, I added, "Please lead me to the right place at just the right moment and time."

A few minutes down the road, I drove, not sure what would jump out at me. Then I saw a sign for a small motel not far from the highway. I drove into the front area near the lobby and office. I charged inside with my chest held high and chin up. No one was at the front desk. That's when I saw it, calling me. It was a shiny silver bell on the counter, between me and destiny. I rang that bell as if my life depended on it. I popped that bell; half expecting an angel would earn his wings.

Out from an empty space in the back appeared two copper-skinned men of Indian descent. One of them asked with an accent "How may I help you?"

I blurted out, "I clean carpets for a living and wondered if you would like a price on the rooms?

Their jaws gaped open. They paused and looked at each other with saucer eyes. "This is unbelievable! We were just in the back room with our fingers in the yellow pages, trying to find a carpet cleaner."

A chill ran through me. Out of all the many God moments in my life, I had never had a more specific and spectacular pray answered.

That day was the official start of our carpet cleaning business. From that day and over thirty-years later, I never looked back, unless I wanted to remind myself that God proved he was in it.

As our cleaning business took off, we also became more involved in church with the new pastor, then the knock on the door brought us new challenges.

It was Chris! Stormy and Tyler were with him. He spent hours at our dinner table explaining his misadventures, and how he desired to leave the children with us for a while. He was making plans to go to Florida.

At the time, we only had a three-bedroom apartment. But we weren't about to say no. We could tell Chris looked weak, and he was suffering from his fight with AIDS. We threaded a fine line between faith and fear. We expressed to Chris that he had to be careful around our kids. We trusted him when he said his children were negative. He gave us the very impression that he wanted us to adopt his kids one day.

Chris stayed with us for a short time. His kids settled into a new life. Meanwhile, I expressed to our pastor one day how we intended to adopt the children. He hadn't wanted to talk about that just yet. He had another concern on his mind.

Pastor Abend asked, "Tom, you would understand our concern as a church that the two children should be cleared, tested here? I have to tell you, others in the church have expressed concern over it."

A rage swelled inside me. I did my best to try and let the steam out in spurts. "So, let me get this straight. Your chief concern is whether the kids have AIDS and might interact with someone?"

Pastor put a hand up. "NO, that's not what I'm saying at all. It's just that we have to be safe. You can certainly understand how others would feel?"

"Okay, I get it," I said. "You prefer healthy families, not sick ones."

He looked as if my words punched him in the gut. "Wow, Tom, I can't believe you said that." He sat down. "I guess you really gave me something to think about, concerning my own heart."

"And by the way, didn't you say that the church convention was going to be held in San Fransisco where you risk having your bed made by someone with AIDS and your food served by the same? There won't be any strict testing of those individuals."

"I'd have to admit, you made a valid point there."

Walking away from the pastor left us more distant and at odds. To his credit, I need to say a few months later, he baptized my son and Stormy, the girl whose father had AIDS. I secretly applauded his courage to hold her before the church and dunk her. As I write this chapter, he has served our church now for over thirty-years!

Chris left for Florida. We were not even sure if he would pass away on the road, or if we would see him again. The one thing we had were his two kids. My wife enrolled them in school as a guardian, and we did our best to make them feel they were part of our family. And maybe for good...maybe.

To be continued...