Rooms - James L. Rubart [113]
“It’s Micah Taylor. Call me, please. The number is—”
“Hello.”
“Rick?”
“Yes?”
“Micah Taylor.”
“I think I know your voice by now.” Rick chuckled.
“So you haven’t forgotten me?”
“No.”
“None of it?”
“Nope.”
Relief showered him. To be sure, he asked when they’d talked last.
“The Fireside restaurant just a few days ago, and we talked about choice. You chose Seattle.”
“Sarah doesn’t remember any of it. Her last memory of us was our first dinner at my house!”
“You made a choice, Micah. You sowed, and now you’re reaping.”
“English. I need it in English.”
“No you don’t. As strange as the past five-plus months have been, deep down you know what has happened, what the King has been doing with the two lives you’ve been living. He has shown you the paths your choices will take you. The Seattle path and the Cannon Beach path.”
“I have chosen! I came back.”
“Now you face the final choice between the two worlds and the consequences of your final choice.”
“It’s not that simple. I need you to explain how I’ve been living the events of two separate lives. I remember parts of a life I never lived as clearly as the one I did live. I need you to explain how huge chunks of Seattle can be wiped out, then return, then disappear, then return in a mutated form! I need—”
“No,” Rick interrupted, his voice sharp. “You need to seek the King with all your heart. All your mind. All your soul. All your strength. He is sovereign, and He is most certainly in control.”
“That’s it? That’s what you’re leaving me with? You’re the only one who seems to understand both lives.”
“Seek the King.”
“I need more than that—”
“Seek the King, Micah.”
“That’s not enough!”
“Seek Him.”
Micah snapped his cell phone shut and filled the night with a guttural moan. He had never been so empty. Seek the King? He’d tried! No sense of God, no peace, only his shredded life for an answer.
When he got home, night had fallen. He hadn’t left any lights on, and the house felt like an ominous mountain he was about to tunnel into.
After flipping on lights all over the ground floor, he poured a Diet Coke, stepped out onto the deck, and replayed every moment from the past week as he stared at the stars. The voice told him he could have both Seattle and Cannon Beach, that he should go back to Seattle.
The voice.
His voice.
The bottom of Micah’s glass dented the redwood railing as he slammed his drink down. He strode toward the dark room, his heart pounding.
CHAPTER 40
Micah ripped open the door and leaped into the dark room. “I want answers!”
“Hey, buddy, how are you?” the voice said.
“Swell.”
“It is a time of turmoil.”
“Nice understatement,” Micah muttered. “You were so wrong.”
“No, Micah, you were. You made the wrong choice.”
“No kidding, Einstein. And you pushed me into it.”
“No, I didn’t. You’re talking about the choice to go to Seattle. I’m talking about the choice to return to Cannon Beach.”
“What?” Micah cocked his head. “Are you insane?”
“I said go to Seattle, get our life back, and stay there for at least six weeks! Not come back after three days.”
“Don’t use that against me. My relationship with Sarah vanished. My relationship with the Lord vanished—the two most important things in my life. And you’re telling me I should have stayed?”
“Yes.”
“This ought to be stellar.” Micah folded his arms.
“First, Sarah. You want to spend your life with her. Is that your plan or His? The Word says we must forsake mother, father, brother, sister. If Sarah is more important to you than following God, then you are not worthy to put your hand to the plow. We need to let her go.”
“Sorry, I don’t buy it. The Lord brought us together. Sarah even said the Holy Spirit told her about it years ago.”
“I believe Sarah was called into our life. But for a season. To give us the chance to choose God over her in the end. We are called to obey. Not to question. Remember, Micah, I’m you, so this is as painful to me as it is to you.”
“Where’s your pain?” Micah slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I am you, but a