Whosoever

Original Date: Circa 2011

My brother Joe and I were in the bank parking lot, he had just returned from the ATM and I was admiring his beautiful new black Mustang. Freshly waxed and shined, it was looking sharp. Boy, was I jealous - not hateful jealous - I knew he worked hard for this and I was so glad for him to have his dream car (even if it was mine too).

Two thugs came up supposedly to ask us a question but in my gut, I knew. They were bringing trouble. It didn’t take long to know this was true. Once they were within speaking distance, they both pulled handguns from the pockets of their hoodies.  We were ready to give them whatever they wanted. Take our wallets, take the car, whatever. Things are just things. But Joe was in good physical shape and had just returned from the gym, they saw him as a threat. I watched as they put a gun to his head and told him to get on his knees. There was no fight, no struggle - really there was no chance.

The gunshot woke me from my nightmare. In my half-awake state, not yet knowing it was a dream, I couldn’t imagine how I was going to explain to my father and my sister that Joe was dead. My mom had passed away not too many years before. With her illness, we had plenty of time to prepare, we knew what was coming. We got through that. But this? How can we lose Joe like this? It felt like my body was imploding. I was out of breath, sobbing, was there something I could have done? 

I was still in bed processing this dream when the phone rang.  It was Joe. He needs help, he drank too much at a bar and his friends had left him there. He needs a ride home. It didn’t matter that I was already in bed. My little brother needed me and after the horrible dream I just had, I was going to be there for him.

I had never been to this part of town but everyone knew it was bad news. Pulling into a private lot at the end of a dead end street, I noticed that there was only one way in or out. Walking toward the bar I passed a row of dilapidated brownstones, this was deeper into the neighborhood than I’d have liked to be but there weren’t many options for parking in this area. The evening light was fading quickly and I wanted to get out of there in a hurry. I attempted to look casual and confident, and not to walk so fast as to give away my fear, but I am sure I was not successful at all in this effort. The residents lined the steps and I saw it in their faces, I definitely did not belong here.

The front of the bar looked like the entrance to most nightclubs. The oasis of bright lights invites people to come inside and enter a completely different world. “Escape your reality” it beckoned, here you could walk inside and be whoever you want. You can behave however you want, after all, you are no different than anyone else after a few shots and a beer.  

That’s where I found Joe, standing right outside the front doors, staggering and very happy to see me. It was as if I was one of his buddies who had come to join the party rather than to save him. He’d have probably wanted to go back in if I was inclined to hang out. But my time in bars was long over. Regardless, the bouncers blocking the doors looked like they meant business. I’m guessing at this point that Joe had already overstayed his welcome. With his left arm over my shoulders and my right arm around his ribs I steadied my taller, younger brother as much as I could and we shuffled our way back to the car. He just kept on talking, thanking me for picking him up and telling a few other half stories that had him alternating between laughing and crying.

When we finally made it back to the car, it was now pitch black outside. The illusion of the marquis lights was no more. It was palpable, we were in a rough territory and it was only getting worse. Looking around, planning my escape, I noticed that we were too late. The parking lot gate was now locked and guard rails in all directions blocked us from getting the car out. We started to hear gunshots, squealing tires, and other sounds signaling that we were not in a good place. Something terrible was going on here. It felt like we were at the front line in a war zone that was about to begin and we honestly didn’t know which way to go to escape. Regardless of direction, we were not safe where we were, even if we had to leave the car behind, we needed to get out of there.

At the edge of the parking lot there was an enclosed concrete stairway which led to the bottom of a hill, some vacant land and distant street lights. Something inside was telling me that this was the direction of safety, the promised land if you will. Walking through the squared off century old open concrete doorway, my brother stumbling at my side, I was shocked to find people inside who were bleeding on the ground. The smell was musty and dirty but not putrid. Some people were tending to others and others were just frozen in fear staring into the darkness. Everyone who looked at us seemed to be questioning whether we were the good guys or the bad guys. If I caught their eyes, they immediately pulled away, seemingly to avoid any exchange either verbally or emotionally.

Not knowing what we would find at the bottom of the stairs, I had Joe wait for me as I went on ahead to be sure we had a clear exit. As I turned a corner, I found myself stopped by a group of very menacing looking guys in black. The leader of this group had wild black hair. His eyes were piercing as they fixed right on me. His hand came up as he pointed a large barrel gun, like a single barrel shotgun at my head and says "Who do you serve"? The question surprised me and as I considered what it was that he was asking, I see the pagan and satanic symbols on their clothing and in their jewelry. I realize what they are looking for and it occurs to me that I could just lie and ask forgiveness later. Jesus forgives, right? This is not exactly a time for heroics or a time to share the gospel. He lowers the gun to my chest. “Who do you serve?”, he repeats. I look at my surroundings again as I consider. Then I see one word pop out among the graffiti painted on the wall behind him. “WHOSOEVER”

John 3:16  (KJV) For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

My mouth opens and I say boldly and without fear "Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior".

I didn’t even hear a sound. Everything went black and tremendous heat radiated from my core throughout my body. In what seemed like just a few seconds later, I wake up on the ground, my body unharmed. Light was streaming in, it was no longer nighttime. There were a few other people there, but none of the the blood or fear was left. People were just picking up a mess of paper debris as if a strong wind had blown in. I walked, confused, back around the corner looking for Joe and he wasn't there.  I called for him louder and louder, “Joe, Joe, where are you?” Until I was screaming “JOE!!” My voice cracked as I desperately cried for my brother one more time, “Jo-ey!!!”.  I fell into a heap on the floor, now aware that he was gone.

Again, I wake up, with the heaviest heart, tears in my eyes, and my silent phone in my hand...

"Hey Joe, We need to talk..." 

I made a plan to come visit my brother the next day after church, when I was anointed with oil for the first time in my life, and I went and told Joe my entire unbelievable and strange testimony. I think I used up an entire roll of tissue with all the crying I did. I had kept my experiences hidden from him for years because I felt he wouldn't believe me. I told him that I was worried about him, and his drinking, .  and that I thought it was God who wanted me to talk to him. Joe tearfully told me that I did not have to worry about him. He believes in God and he'll be alright. 

Update:
As months and years passed, Joe's life has made a HUGE change for the better. Never since this meeting have I heard through the grapevine about concerning issues with alcohol. He rekindled his romance with the love of his life and they have been married for several years and they seem to get happier as time goes on.