Rooms - James L. Rubart [85]
“All right, Einstein, how do we do that?”
“You know,” the voice said.
“I go back to Seattle and stay.”
“Yes.”
Micah stopped pacing and looked straight into the darkness. “And let the journey down here end?”
“No. Who says you have to stop coming here altogether? No one. Why can’t we just come down here every now and then? Once every five or six weeks?”
“But what if that slows down the discoveries, the changes in my heart, the completion of the painting?”
“So things go a little slower. So what? Progress will still be made on the painting. We’ve accomplished the important part already. We’ve come back to God and are with Him again. Does it matter if the rest of the journey comes a little less rapidly?”
Micah rubbed the back of his neck with both hands.
“Let’s get our life in Seattle going again,” the voice said.
“I don’t know. What if God is saying stay here?”
“Staying here while our world in Seattle falls apart? For how long? Till everything we’ve worked for is gone? How does that glorify God? We need to go after God’s will, but it’s rather difficult steering a parked car.”
“But what if God is saying park for a while?” Micah turned and walked to the door. “Thanks for the confusion.”
As he walked out, the voice sighed.
Welcome to my world, Micah thought.
||||||||
The next morning Micah called Shannon to check in.
“Hey, stranger. How’s the surf?”
“White, how are you?”
“Things are fine,” Shannon said. “It’s nice to hear your voice, but you’re not due to touch base for another week and a half. Are you missing us already?”
“Missing you?” Micah paused. “Yeah, actually I am. You’re a good friend, Shannon.”
As the words escaped Micah’s mouth, it surprised him. Surprised he’d said them and surprised it had taken him this long to say it. She was a good friend. Like an older sister and a mom wrapped up together. “But not missing much else. I like it here. Good changes going on.”
“I’m glad for you. You sound well.”
After a few routine questions about the company, Shannon assured him business continued even smoother than expected, and everyone would be ready to talk with him during their scheduled conference call on Thursday next week. As Micah hung up the phone, he let out a sigh. Maybe Seattle had stabilized.
Relief swirled through him.
As he laced up his running shoes, he thought back to his talk with the voice. He might be right. Why not drop in every five or six weeks? Or even once a month? God could still work in him. This wasn’t a race.
If choices and actions in Cannon Beach affected Seattle, why not spend more time there and make sure those changes weren’t out of his control? Sarah could come up and spend a few days in Seattle in between his visits to Cannon Beach. Yet at the same time, Shannon said things were fine. So did he have to go back right now?
He walked onto the beach and glanced at the sky. Rain threatened, but he didn’t mind running in the rain, even if it did let loose. Would keep others off the beach and leave him alone with his thoughts.
He considered the other side of the coin. This was the first time he’d had any real break from the company since its inception. As long as the board had given him the time off, Micah might as well take it. What was the worst that could happen? He might wind up on the ground floor of his condo, but he’d still have a minimum of $45 million dollars of stock ready to be exercised almost instantly.
He’d stay in Cannon Beach a few more weeks, announce to the board during the conference call what he was doing, and try to relax and enjoy his time at the ocean.
After making the decision to stay, a dull ache shot through his left ankle. Dull but still severe enough that he stumbled and wound up in a heap on the sand.
He sat up and rubbed the ankle with both hands. He rotated it clockwise, then counterclockwise. It wasn’t excruciating, but his run for the day was finished.
He favored his left leg on the way home. Old age would take at least another twelve years to settle in; this had to be something else. After icing it for just