the free story | ragraves

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A Clear Signal

They say that preaching the gospel is like scattering seed. Imagine how well that works in the frozen grounds of the Mackenzie Mountains. That is why I was praying. I was asking God to lead me to someone specific and obvious. I guess it was a clear signal I asked for, something to remind me of His sovereignty, and to let me know that I was not wasting my time as a missionary out here in the cold.

God answered my prayer and led me to one of his own.

While I was still praying, a heavy knock pounded on my door. I did not expect it to be that easy, so I got up with less excitement than I should have. In hind sight, I must repent, a pounding like that usually means someone has fallen ill, or has broken a bone.

By the time I opened the door, the knocker was running off down the road. He yelled over his shoulder. "Binisko is up the tower. I think he is going to jump." Then he was gone.

He was not seeking my help. He was a gossip spreading the word. It had to sink in, but then I went out of my door and looked over the roof of my house where the tower stood.

The tower always seemed out of place to me. It was a weather station, I think, as well as a communication center- the only way information got in or out of the village. Its bare metal frame blended into the sky, like a ghost, and it was easy to forget it was there, standing a hundred feet taller than everything else. I squinted and traced its sketchy outline upward.

I could see him against the white sky, a black dot-of-a-man.

This had happened twice before, both before my time, and both had ended tragically. It had been the same scenario; after half a life in the dark shadows of the mountains, men can feel as meaningless as buried rock in frozen ground. There was alcohol involved, of course, an amount surpassing numbness and giving them courage of the worse kind. Surely this case with Binisko was the same.

I was not the only one looking. The whole village was outside their doors, necks twisted. Waiting. Watching. They had all watched the last two jump to their deaths; what was a third to them? I could not! Not once! So I ran inside and pulled my boots on, thanking God for such a swift answer to prayer. I grabbed my parka and fought my way in to it as I went.

I ran all the way to the communication center. My feet hurt against the frozen road. My lungs stung with the sharp air. My breath was short and visible before me, falling fast like a stone. I scuttled over the flimsy fence that encircled the tower before realizing what I was committing myself to - a perilous climb. I took hold of the lowest rung. It was freezing. I confess, it caused me to hesitate. But I could not have pulled my hand away, even if I tried. Not after all of my prayers. Besides, I had not necessitated that God should place the would-be convert on the ground.

While I stood there, I heard a small voice. "Take off your coat," it said. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway of the building. It was her job, at least on this particular day, to send and receive messages for the village. I took her advice, deciding the extra bulk would be a dangerous hindrance. Then I climbed, praying that such a desperate man, as was above, might cling tighter to the Gospel than to a tower.

My hands quickly became numb. I could hardly keep a grip. I shivered so violently that I thought my body would shake me loose and throw me down. And I regretted listening to the woman, because, the higher I climbed the worse it got. The cold wind drew icy liquid from my eyes and it was not long before I was climbing half blind.

Unfortunately, my blindness did not protect me from the view. I told myself not to, but I looked down. General wisdom tells you not to, and now I know why. It is not because fear sets in when you do; the fear is there all along. It is because gravity has a way of strengthening. With my numb hands, I had the strange feeling that I was latched to nothing, that God alone suspended me above the village. I could feel the weight of my body, yet, I was not falling.

Far below a crowd had formed. This novelty must have been new to them. Instead of watching from afar to see if the little black dot would drop, they came close to watch the odds of it's rescue.

When I looked up, I saw that I had a long way to go. Even though the sky was blank and white, it had it's own movement, more wild than the wind, which made me dizzy.

I refocused my attention, looking only for the next feeble hand hold, and I advanced against the gravity, and the cold, and the wind. I came to realize the woman's wisdom; the wind was strong. Had I been wearing my parka, it would have grabbed me like a sail.

By the time I reached Binisko, I was unsure if I would have the strength to make it down. Still, he was worse off. He hung on like a lazy sloth, an arm and a leg wrapped around a rail, the other limbs dangling. Only the coldness locked his joints in place, keeping him from slipping away. He appeared to be sleeping, not shivering in the least bit, and I knew, that was a bad sign.

"Don't you know where you are?" I yelled.

Binisko's eyes opened. They were pointing down and the sight caused him to flinch and grope for metal.

He had some fear left in him. That was a good thing.

He said something, but his words were taken by the wind. I asked him to repeat them.

"I just wanted to see"

He was not talking about the view. It was a perfectly clear day; he might have been able to see everything that was ever created. He was talking about things that could not be seen; and that was exactly why I had climbed. I had asked for a clear signal, and what better place to send and receive the Gospel than the tip of the tower. That would be funny from the ground.

Before I could tell him anything invisible, Binisko began to descend.

"I will climb down with you." That was all I ended up saying to him. I felt foolish for saying it, because of course I was going to climb back down. If my body allowed it.

Despite his time on the tower, Binisko was agile. He beat me down and the crowd received him with happy cheers.

I was still a ways up when they rushed off to celebrate without a thought of the man who came to his rescue. I doubt that it will ever dawn on Binisko, or anyone else for that matter, that it was the missionary who climbed up for him; and it was Christ who compelled that.

I dropped from the last beam, painfully numb. I know, I should have been happy. Binisko lived! But to be honest, I was utterly disappointed. I wanted to tell him that Christ is life himself, and the creator of all things, seen and unseen. I wanted to tell Binisko that despair comes from sin, and sin was the only thing that needed to be hurled from a tower that day.

I nearly folded over thinking of what he had said. He just wanted to see. Apparently he had seen, something. I don't know what. Something worth living for, I guess. Perhaps the heads of his friends and the roof of the tavern, because that was where the crowd took him - to the tavern to celebrate.

Well, not everyone was gone. The woman was there holding my coat. I put it on quickly, willing it to hug me tighter.

"What did you say to him," she wanted to know.

"Nothing," I said.

She shifted her weight. "Then how did you save him?"

Between breaths blown on my stinging hands I told her the truth. "I didn't. I don't think I could have."

She was confused. She had curious eyes that made me marvel at the mystery of God and how he did his work. "I didn't say anything to him," I confessed. "But if you let me warm up inside, I will tell you what I was going to say."

Her name was Mizhakwan. It is a beautiful name. It means, a clear sky. It was for her that God sent me running to the tower. On that cold, clear day, the woman who receives signals for the village, received the greatest message ever sent.

Wait!... THE END...is not yet.

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