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Rooms - James L. Rubart [63]

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food?” Rick took a long sniff. “I love the smell of bacon in the morning.”

Micah waved his hand. “I’ve already ordered for both of us. Should be here by now.”

“You’re not going to comment on my subtle Apocalypse Now reference?”

“Sorry. Not in the mood. And it wasn’t subtle.”

“So what happened?” Rick dumped two packets of sugar into his empty coffee cup. A few seconds later their regular waitress scuttled by with their order and coffee for Rick.

“What happened?” Micah said. “I honestly don’t know. All of a sudden this volcano explodes out of me. I was a certified platinum jerk. I chewed out the entire team because—get this—they wanted to protect me from the FTC. And I cannot figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“I never get angry. Not that kind of angry. The last time I lost my temper, I was in third grade. I might get sarcastic, zing someone with a verbal barb, but I don’t get tomato-face angry. But I lost it with Sarah the other day on the phone, and then yesterday it came out of nowhere—again! It was like the TV had been turned on at high volume in an instant and I couldn’t pull the plug. The scene played out like an episode of How-to-Be-a-Class-A-Pinhead, and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.”

“Like a running back reacting without thinking to avoid a tackle?”

“Exactly, only after it started I was thinking. Part of me shouted, ‘What are you doing, get yourself under control,’ and part of me had cruise control set at 120 miles an hour, hitting everything on the road. And liking it.” Micah added more coffee to his cream. “So I repeat, what is God doing to me?”

“He’s going deeper after your heart,” Rick mumbled through a bite of his ham-and-cheese omelet.

“By making a temper tantrum worthy of a five-year-old come out of nowhere?”

“That kind of anger doesn’t come out of nowhere.” Rick took a slurp of his coffee.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means over the years you’ve become extremely proficient at keeping your anger buried—through sarcasm, witty banter, or dry, cutting remarks—while all the time, deep down, you’re seething.”

“Seething about what?”

“I don’t know. But the Holy Spirit, who does, is causing these things to surface.” Rick drained half his orange juice and started in on an English muffin dripping with honey.

“Enlighten me as to why He’s doing that.”

“Did you ask Him to?”

Micah stared at Rick as he realized the answer. “I didn’t think this would be the response.”

“Most people don’t.”

“What comes next?”

“He wants to fix the broken places in your heart.”

“Okay, still lost. Need the fog lights here, not real clear what you’re saying.”

“To heal a wound the Lord needs to bring it to the surface. I’d say He showed you a symptom today. He’ll show you the cause if you’re willing.”

“Willing to what?”

“Well, something inside caused that outburst. As you said, a part of you couldn’t keep from exploding. So you have to be willing to go deep into your heart with the Counselor and uncover the cause.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“You don’t have to.” Rick smiled.

“This is about my mom dying, isn’t it? About what my dad did afterward.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not God.”

||||||||

When he got home from breakfast, Micah grabbed a fruit punch Powerade, flopped onto an Adirondack chair on his deck, and thanked God it was Wednesday. Archie letter day. He needed answers.

August 11, 1991

Dear Micah,

Have you considered what the strongholds are Paul talks about in his epistles? A friend recently presented me with this explanation: A stronghold is anything that keeps us from the freedom of being in Christ Jesus.

The Gospel of John tells us if we know the Son we shall be free indeed. The apostle Paul says it was for freedom’s sake that Christ set us free. He didn’t set us free for duty or obligation but for freedom itself. This is indeed a staggering and amazing thought. With that in mind, we must ask what the strongholds are that Jesus wants to set us free from.

The answer is not overly complex. They are anything we’ve given room to in our lives in an attempt to cover up our wounds

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