Coffee Table Tale

I advertised a Queen Anne coffee table for sale in the local Pennysaver this week and got about five calls.

The call that turned into a sale went something like this:

Nancy (calls at 10:45 pm Thursday night while we're listening to Stephen rehearse his government speech. "Let it go," Paul says,after seeing a strange number. (The caller leaves a message that it's about the coffee table, apologizing for the lateness of the hour.) I return her call at 10 the next morning.

"Will you be home today so we can come look at it?" I think of errands, house cleaning, carpool, youth group, Children of Zion at Mt. Zion.

"I'll be in and out, but the best window of opportunity will be from 4:15 to 5:30, if you'd like to come by during that time."

They came at 4:15 on the nose and I thought it might take 10 minutes tops. You either want the table or you don't. Well, they came in, I ushered them to the living room and for some reason blurted out the reason we're selling it. "We are trying to simplify our lives and at the same time my daughter and I are raising funds for a trip to Russia."

"May I sit down?" asks Tom. He's about 70, she's probably a bit younger, but weak and winded.

"Certainly," I said, "Make yourselves comfortable."

"Well, this is very comfortable furniture," Tom says, and Nancy does some "mmhmming" . "Yes, it is," she agree, stroking the top of the sofa. I wanted to say, "It's not for sale," but instead I say, "This is my nappin' couch. I come here to get away and I read here every morning."

"Russia, eh? What're you going there for?" says Tom.

" A missions trip," I say, "My daughter is graduating this year and wants to care for orphans with me."

"We're Christians, too," he says, and they seem to settle in for the afternoon. Neither mentions the coffee table.

Before long, Tom told me his testimony: when he was 38, had all the world could offer him--successful law practice, big house in the 'burbs, nice cars, you name it. But he had no hope and was planning his own death. He recounted the Friday that was to be his last, as he planned. He took his daughter, then a teen, to the dentist. In the waiting room was a smattering of Christian literature. He picked up two pieces: one a Chuck Colson "Born Again" comic book, the other Power of Praise. He got absorbed in the latter but coudlnt' take it home, so he stopped by Waldenbooks after the appointment.

"I walked into Waldens and right there on display was Power of PRaise, and there was a light shining on it. What are the chances?"

"In Waldenbooks? Supernatural," I said.

"I couldn't read, I had no peace, andn couldn't put the book down. Read it all night, and reread some parts. Next morning I got down on my knees and prayed to God. I don't even know what I said, but told him I was desperate. I was Catholic all my life but this was the first real pray I prayed to God with my heart. Went about my day, nothing felt different, so I called a Chrsitian TV hotline and told I prayed but it didn't work." (He explained that he meant there were no feelings, he didn't feel changed. The TV lady prayed with him adn told him he was definitely a new creation, saved by God's grace. Feelings didn't validate or change truth." He told his wife to join him for a country drive and on the way, he told her of his prayer and "suddenly in the car, as I drove and told her this, I felt a peace come over me like I'd never known. I knew it's what I'd been missing all my life. I was a changed man. I started going to every Bible study I could find, and learn all I could. Unfortunately for some groups it was their mission to get Tom to stop being Catholic. Finally I had to say, "if you want me to stop being Catholic, then pray and ask God to show me why. Otherwise I'm going to have to leave because you're making me very uncomfortable. So they prayed, and I researched and I found my answer at a monastery library. I looke up basic Catholic doctrine in the official Catholic encyclopedia, and it said that Mary was immacutely conceived, she lived a sinless life, she is a co-redeemer with Jesus, and a co-mediator. Well, I got up and walked around the the library and came back and reread that, walked around again. This monastery was Trappist [sp?] which meant they didnt' talk, they just prayed , read, what have you. That's okay, I didnt' want anyone to explain it. I t was in plain ENglish. I had found the reason I could no longer be Catholic since I knew the real doctrines of the Catholic church. I'm not saying a person can't be Catholic and Christian, I am saying I couldn't because now I knew the truth of the Bible and compared it to the Catholic encyclopedia of doctrine. And that was just the doctrine of the immaculate conception! Since then it's been my mission to get my family saved before they die."

I must've raised my eyebrows when he said "get my family saved" because he added, "I mean, God does the saving, but I am determined to do all I can to lead them to Him."

Okay, this is truly a wonderful way to spend an afternnoon, having biblical fellowship with total strangers. Of all the myriad Harford County residents who wanted to look at my coffee table, I was blessed with a talkative, intelligent, ex-Catholic Christian and his quiet wife. They didn't mention the table until 5:00. "Well, honey, what do you think of the table?" Tom asked her enthusiastically.

"I like it. I like that it's oval and dark wood."

They asked if I had a young man to carry it to the car .

"Matter of fact, I have two. I'l get the bodybuilding son from the front yard," I said, and Ben came in and seemed to lift the table up and out with one hand.

Meanwhile each of them needed a turn in the bathroom, and I had to humble myself to flush the toilet first and apologize for a little boy who still needed training.

As Nancy was getting cash out to pay me, Tom said, "Honey, give her an extra five. They're going on a mission trip."

They pulled out of the driveway at 5:30.