Tonight for Flanders Nickels was so happy Friday night. And Friday night was always the night after his last day of work on his day shift job and always the night before his two-day weekend off from that same work. It was winter, high school basketball season for his city, the high school basketball gymnasiums abounding in most enchanting cheerleaders for him to admire from the bleachers. He never went to see the basketball games themselves; he just went to see the cheerleaders—cheerleaders being for him, “the heritage of his heart” that he so cherished. And there was a boy’s basketball game going on tonight in West De Pere High School, across the bridge to the other side of town. It was only a twenty-minute walk for him in the cold of winter. Friday night was a great night to go see the cheerleaders. But Friday night was also a night in which he could get filled up with his best worship of the week. Being a born-again Christian, his favorite two activities in life were reading his Bible and praying his prayers. On Fridays where there was no basketball game rife with cheerleaders, Flanders loved to binge on worship with two straight hours of Bible study and two straight hours of prayer both in the same night. That was also what Fridays could mean for this born-again believer. And he made
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up his mind. He would stay home this evening where it was warm and comfortable and give himself fully to worship.
Glad in heart, Flanders sat down at his Bible-reading table and began to read and study and underline in a Bible commentary book about the book of Daniel. And he was filled up spiritually, and it felt good. And then he finished that chapter on the Daniel commentary book. Yet now he began to think again about the cheerleaders. The West De Pere Phantoms were playing a home game against the Pulaski Red Raiders. Nothing stirred his insides up so wondrously as a high school girl’s cheerleader uniform. He was not interested in flesh, but in fabric and cut of the cloth. He was not looking for skin of legs, but rather, pleat of skirt. He was not a thinker of wrong thoughts, but rather a great fan for all that made up that which was the contemporary cheerleader’s uniform. The cheerleaders were his favorite class of women not for their bodies, but for their so-exciting outfit more enthralling than any other style of attire of any girl or woman out there. He had to go see them now, even though he would arrive late. And he fell upon impulse, and he changed his mind about this night in the middle of his evening. Bundling up for winter in Wisconsin here, he then went on his walk across the Claude-Allouez Bridge, his heart singing in his head his favorite four Christmas Carols—fourth favorite, “Joy To The World”; third favorite, “O Come, All Ye Faithful”; second favorite, “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!”; and first favorite, “The First Noel.” Yet, as he sang in his head, on his way to see his favorite class of women, one woman in particular on his mind kept arising in his thoughts. This woman was a girl he had once known as a cashier with whom he had once worked as a bag boy at Olsen Foods. That was ten years ago already. She was twenty-seven years old then; he was twenty-seven years old then. And these past ten years were lonely years without her at his side at the cash register tills. He had never asked her out for a date. He wanted her as his only girlfriend. But God told him, as a believer, not to date any girl who was not a believer. Gravel was not a believer. He obeyed God. And the girl got
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away. He came to affectionately call her, “Gravel.” And he also called her to himself, “Gravel—The Fox.” She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen face-to-face. And of all women out there, for him only foxy Gravel was more exciting than the cheerleaders. And these past ten years of so desired worship of God, questions like “What if I had asked her out?” frequently entered into his quiet times with God and did distract him from God. “What if I had her for my girlfriend?” sometimes made him lose his focus in his Bible times. “What would it be like to be her boyfriend, O Lord?” sometimes came from nowhere and came upon his prayer times. Such “What if’s” made him never forget a girl from ten years ago, whom he had known for only a few months at work. He did not know whether he loved her when he knew her. But he did think that now he did love her now that he no longer knew her.
He remembered how everybody at work knew about his mad crush for her at the time. His friend the cashier Cookie told him in her own evaluation of Gravel, “She looks like Morticia.” She did not look like Morticia to Flanders. And he laughed at Cookie in fun and game. Another cashier friend of his, Janice, said to him in her evaluation of Gravel, employing a double-negative, “She ain’t got no hair.”
To him Gravel had true angel hair, beautiful brunette wisps long and straight and with bangs, and full.
And he laughed good-heartedly at these words as well. Remembering this on his walk, he laughed with God in prayer and said, “They were both jealous, Lord.” Then he said, “Not!” They were not jealous.
But they sure didn’t see what he saw in her.
This idyllic living dream girl he affectionately called, “The Daughter of Aphrodite.”
He could see the doors of West De Pere High School now with its lights on inside. His last Christmas carol was just finishing up in his heart. It was time to forget about Gravel for a little while.
It was time to see the cheerleaders. He put his hand to the latch, opened the door, and came into the warm bright lively anteroom to the gymnasium. He then passed through the anteroom and opened the door to the gymnasium. The basketball game had already started. And there was a spot in the bleachers that was available here close to the doors. And he sat down. And, behold, the Pulaski Red
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Raider varsity boy’s basketball cheerleaders cheering in a line right in front of where he sat. Whoa! Their cheerleader uniforms shone with lustrous and vibrant fabric of deep red. Their cheerleader vests were endowed with a chenille emblem that read, “Red Raiders.” Their cheerleader skirts were endued with contemporary knife pleats of these days. This was going to be a most special Friday night for Flanders.
He had not seen before Pulaski cheerleaders here in DePere in his life on his own.
And he quickly found the two prettiest of these cheerleaders in their deep red of material. One kind of resembled Gravel herself, but was not Gravel. She was the prettier of the two pretty cheerleaders, and she was younger than was Gravel, and she was not so pretty as Gravel. She had dark brown hair and a beautiful face. The other of the two pretty Red Raider cheerleaders struck him as looking kind of like an angel. She was not an angel, but her attraction of face complemented most pleasingly her attraction of attire. She had blonde hair and a most comely face. He would call her secretly “the angel.” And the songs of the cheerleaders in their chants sounded to him as pretty as a hymn from the hymnbook.
And he remembered his pack of salvation tracts he had brought with him in his shirt pocket. Every time he came to see cheerleaders, he always made sure to hand out as many tracts to as many cheerleaders as would take them. He himself was saved; these cheerleaders also might need to find so great salvation, too, if they were yet lost in their sins. His burden for souls in his witness life was at
its most delightful when it came to sharing the Gospel to cheerleaders. Cheerleaders had souls for whom Christ did die, also. And he watched the two pretty cheerleaders cheer and awaited the halftime
period to come up to them and talk to them about their souls.
And halftime came. And all the cheerleader squad left the basketball court floor and sat down in the bleachers indeed all around Flanders right where he was sitting. He had never before been so close to so many cheerleaders as he was now with these Red Raider cheerleaders. And he said in good
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words, “I’m from Blessed Hope Baptist Church right in front of this high school. I would like to give you these tracts. They tell how to get to Heaven.” And he held out his two hands full of salvation tracts. And every last cheerleader of this visiting team eagerly and most kindly reached out and took a tract from him. Even the church’s Thursday Evening Visitation program where Flanders went out knocking on doors in De Pere and giving out tracts with the men of the church was not so exciting as this was right now. Maybe cheerleaders’ souls were even more special to him than cheerleaders’ apparel. And to cap it off, all the cheerleaders then did say to him, “Thank you, sir.”
But it got better even than that. Right after the cheerleaders in deep red thanked him for the tracts, the Gravel-type cheerleader and the angel-type cheerleader went on to say to him, “Amen, Sir!”
both at the same time.
And the Gravel lookalike then said to him a most sweet Bible verse, “’That I may shew forth all thy praise in the gates of the daughter of Zion: I will rejoice in thy salvation.’ Psalm 9:14.”
And right after that, “the angel” then recited to him Scripture of her own, saying, “’So we thy people and sheep of thy pasture will give thee thanks for ever: we will shew forth thy praise to all generations.’ Psalm 79:13.”
Flanders was dumbfounded by this serendipity for a moment. No cheerleader had ever said a Bible verse from her tongue before for him. That was even more fascinating than any cheerleader’s cheer for him. These two cheerleaders were born-again Christians like himself. Then he found good Biblical response, “’From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same the Lord’s name is to be praised.’ Psalm 113:3.”
And they said, “Amen” together once again. And so did he now to them.
And Flanders introduced himself to the two already-saved cheerleaders, “I am Flanders Nickels.”
The Gravel lookalike cheerleader said, “I am Grandy Devonshire.”
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The “angel” cheerleader said, “I am Melanie Angeles.”
And Flanders and the two cheerleaders shook hands in greeting and in fellowship. Halftime was running down now. The second half of the game was about to start. And Grandy and Melanie soon had to go back and do their work as cheerleaders for their team. Grandy said, “Our cousin is coming to pick us two up after the game. Maybe you can give her one of your tracts, too, Flanders.”
Melanie said, “She’s still lost. She won’t listen to us anymore. Maybe she’ll listen to you, Flanders.”
“I’d be honored,” he said. “Then you two are sisters, Grandy, Melanie?”
Grandy and Melanie looked at each other. “No, we are not,” said Grandy.
“We two are cousins to each other,” said Melanie.
“We three are all cousins one to each other,” said Grandy.
“How can that be?” he asked.
And Melanie said, “And not only that, but our cousin is both of our ages put together—mine and Grandy’s.”
Then the buzzer rang in the gymnasium, and halftime with the cheerleaders was done for Flanders. But he would get to talk to these two pretty cheerleaders again after the game with their mystery cousin. And in the whole second half, Flanders ignored the West De Pere Phantom cheerleaders on the other side of the gymnasium in their home game, and he stayed true to the two pretty Pulaski Red Raider cheerleaders here right in front of him in their away game. Then the buzzer rang again. The basketball game ended. He did not know who won. But he could tell by the victory in the faces of Grandy and Melanie. It was a good game he could tell. And Grandy and Melanie right away came up and sat down next to Flanders for more fellowship in Christ. This sweetest fellowship that he had found himself in was enhanced with a flavor of romance, these fellow believers being
most comely cheerleaders.
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Right away Grandy asked him, “Flanders, what do you pray about the most?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one for me to answer,” he replied. “I summarize this in four words.”
“What are they?” asked Melanie.
“Prom gown vs. pencil,” he said.
“What does that mean?” asked Melanie.
“It means in symbol ‘girlfriend vs. writing,’” he said. “I can have one or the other in my life, but I cannot have both in my life. And I am not sure which one God would have me to have for the rest of my life,”
“Let me guess,” said Grandy. “You do not have a girlfriend in your life right now, but you do have writing in your life right now. Am I right?”
“You are exactly right, Grandy,” said Flanders.
Melanie asked, “Then by ‘prom gown’ you mean a girlfriend in a prom gown.” He nodded. She then said, “And by “pencil” you mean stories that you write with that pencil.” He nodded again.
Grandy said, “The Deb Store in Bay Park Square has lots of prom dresses, Flanders!”
“Yeah. I know,” he said. “Red ones and blue ones and green ones and purple ones and black ones and white ones and even a yellow one. They shine in acetate. They are even prettier than the girls who dress up in them.”
“You know about the Deb Store,” said Grandy.
“I’ve been there a few times before by myself,” he did say.
Then Melanie said, “Right next to Bay Park Square, along its side and across the street is the School House. That store has lots of pencils.”
“I’ve been there a few times myself, too,” he said. “I buy my pencils and my paper there at the School House, Melanie.”
“They have pencils of number one lead and number two lead and number three lead and number
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four lead and number five lead and number six lead,” said Melanie.
“And number two-and-one-half lead,” he added.
“You know about the School House,” she said.
“Melanie, our writer here in our midst knows more about pencils than we high school students do,” said Grandy.
“Grandy, he knows more about prom gowns than we girls do,” said Melanie.
“Yes, Grandy,” said Flanders. “And yes, Melanie.” He then went on to say, “I’ve got a whole desk drawer full of old pencils that got real short. And though I never had a girlfriend with whom to go to the prom, I do not desire a prom with a girlfriend; I just desire a prom dress for a girlfriend.”
“How come you do not think to go after both?” asked Grandy. “Surely you can date a prom dress girl and write about a prom dress girl if you want to both in your life at once. Can’t you?”
“Not enough time in my days for that, Grandy,” he said. “I call ‘Bible study’ ‘my first love.’
And I call ‘prayer’ ‘my first-in-command’ of activities. Not even ‘my’ Gravel herself is as much of a desire as Bible and prayer are my needs. I can fit in Bible study and prayer and writing in my days of my life, and no more when it comes to my spare time. And I believe that I could fit in Bible study and prayer and a girlfriend-in-Christ in my schedule outside of work, but no more. If I did have my Bible time and my prayer time and my writing time and my girlfriend time, I would not get enough Bible and prayer with my God to find satisfaction in my Christian life. And I surely would not find time to relax were I to squeeze in all of these in an effort to get out of life all that I think I can. My Saviour is my First Of All. And quiet time with Him is what makes me happy in my salvation in this life.”
Melanie went on to say, “Then God has given you your pencils in your years with Him, but He has not given you any girlfriends yet.”
“You are right, Melanie,” he said. “I wonder, though.”
“Are you happy that your third activity is writing and not dating, Flanders?” asked Melanie.
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“I still wonder, though,” Flanders said again.
“It sounds like getting a Christian girlfriend to be at your side is a dream or an unanswered prayer,” said Grandy.
“It is both, Grandy,” he said. “At one time, my first-in-command of dreams was to learn to love the Lord’s imminent appearing. (I now love that rapture soon to come. That dream was answered.) And at that same time my second-in-command of dreams was to learn to write for the Lord. That dream came true with great answers to prayer. And at that time my third-in-command of dreams was to
have a Christian girlfriend. I have come to call such a girlfriend ‘a Fable.’ And I also call a girl in a vintage prom dress ‘a Fable,’ as well. That dream is still pending.”
“You like that word ‘fable.’ Don’t you?” asked Grandy.
“It sounds romantic to me,” he said.
Melanie asked him, “Was this ‘Gravel’ you mentioned a Fable?”
“Almost,” he said.
Melanie asked. ”Did you write any before you got born again?”
“Yes!” he said. “And those stories were not good stories, Melanie.”
“Were they stories that believers like us would not like to read?” asked Grandy.
“Very much so, Grandy,” said Flanders.
“What are your stories like now?” asked Melanie. “What happens in your stories that you write?”
“Either a lost soul gets saved, or a saved person gets his prayers answered by God,” he said.
“Good wholesome Christian fiction,” said Melanie.
“Where do you keep your short stories?” asked Grandy.
“In my precious wooden filing cabinet,” he said. “The top drawer has all of my rough handwritten drafts in pencil on yellow paper. The bottom drawer has all of the typed versions—the
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‘hard copies,’ as we writers call them. And they are all in chronological order according to the time of the writing of each story’s first draft.”
“Who gets to read them?” asked Grandy.
“Anybody who wants to after the rapture,” he said.
“The rapture is imminent,” said Melanie.
“I believe that God called me to write the stories on this side of the rapture and that He will have them published after I am out of here after the rapture,” said Flanders.
“A ministry that is posthumous and post-translation,” said Melanie.
“What do you hope that God will do through your stories in the tribulation to come?” asked Grandy.
“My short stories, I believe, have a bipartite ministry,” said Flanders. “They are to lead lost souls to salvation, and they are to build up and edify those who are already saved.”
“That so glorifies our God, Flanders,” said Melanie.
“God can do that with a good story by a good writer,” said Grandy.
“Do you as a believer have a word of prayer before you sit down and write like we believers do when we sit down to eat?” asked Melanie.
“Yes. I pray these words each time I begin my writing sessions: ‘Dear God: Help me to write from my strength and from my mind and from my heart and from my spirit and from my soul to glorify
Jesus hereby,’” said Flanders Nickels.
“That’s just about everything,” praised Melanie.
“Nothing is missing in that prayer,” said Grandy.
“God writes great short stories,” said Flanders in truth and glory to God.
“Do you ever put yourself in your stories?” asked Grandy.
“Every time in every story,” he said. “Flanders Nickels is the main guy in every last one of my
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stories.”
“He must live lots and lots of different lives in all of these stories,” said Melanie. “How can he be in all of these stories?”
“Oh, that’s easy to answer, Melanie,” he said. “Every one of my stories is completely independent of each other—those that are not sequels and prequels. Each Flanders has nothing to do with any of the other Flanders. They are all different Flanderses.”
“Almost like a generic leading man,” said Grandy. “Yourself put into these stories for you to feel them vicariously as you write them.”
“Do you have any leading ladies in your Flanders stories?” asked Melanie.
“Yes. A boyfriend and a girlfriend are inherent in all of my stories,” said Flanders. “But these main girl characters are based on lots of different gals with lots of different names, and they are most specific inspirations from real girls that I did know whom I found attractive.”
One Flanders and lots of girlfriends,” said Grandy.
“It’s a good thing that the Flanderses are all different ones, or a reader might think that he is a real Romeo,” said Melanie.
“Yeah! The real Flanders never had a girlfriend before,” said Flanders Nickels.
Grandy said, “Writing must be for you like a make-believe date, Flanders.”
“Kind of at that, Grandy,” said Flanders.
“Who is Flanders’s favorite girlfriend in all of his stories?” asked Grandy.
“Why, Gravel, for sure,” he said right out.
“Who was the real Gravel who inspired you to write the most about her?” asked Grandy.
“A cashier I once knew whose face looked a little like your face, Grandy…and whose black hair was kind of like an angel’s hair as your face is kind of like an angel’s face, Melanie,” he said.
“Did she ever get to read any of your Gravel stories?” asked Melanie.
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“No. I did not start writing my Gravel stories until after she left Olsen Foods,” said Flanders.
“And that was ten years ago.”
“Where did she get the name ‘Gravel?’” asked Grandy.
“I gave it to her ex post facto,” he said. “She does not know that I call her that.”
“Did Gravel have a gravel voice?” asked Melanie.
“Not one bit,” he said. “But when I first began to write about her, I gave her character a deep husky voice that was not at all like her real voice. And in my ignorance I thought that a deep husky voice meant a gravel voice. But since then I found out that a gravel voice is instead a discordant grating voice. I made a writer’s mistake. But I liked the sound of the name ‘Gravel’ for this foxy woman. And I kept it for her. And I still call her that even now a decade later—both in my stories and in my love for her.”
“Just think, Flanders, you could have called the foxy gal something like ‘Concrete’ or ‘Cement,’ instead,” said Grandy in good fun.
“Or ‘Asphalt’ or ‘Blacktop,’” added Melanie to the mirth.
“Maybe even ‘Two-Rutted Road,’” said Flanders caught up in the merriment of the moment.
And all three laughed in lightheartedness.
“Where did she go after she left your grocery store?” asked Melanie.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Do you think that you might find her again someday?” Grandy asked.
“I think of Dan Fogelberg’s song, ‘Same Old Lang Syne,’” he said in earnest pining.
“An old lover, a grocery store, a sad rendezvous,” summarized Grandy the essence of that song that spoke to Flanders’s lonely heart.
“Would you want to see her again?” asked Melanie.
He nodded and said, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
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“She sounds like a goddess to you, Flanders,” said Melanie.
“A Greek goddess,” said Grandy.
“I affectionately call her ‘The Daughter of Aphrodite,’” declared Flanders.
“Would that my boyfriend call me that,” said Grandy.
“Would that all the boys called me that,” said Melanie.
“Throughout my years of Bible study, I have found what I call seven ‘Gravel verses,’ Grandy, Melanie,” he said. Do you want to hear them?”
“Uh huh,” said the two cheerleaders in ready assent and nods.
He told them his Gravel scripture: “’I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh’s chariots.’ Song of Solomon 1:9. And also, ‘How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!’ Song of Solomon 7:6. Solomon said these verses to his Shulamite wife. I can say them to my Gravel.” Then he said, “’I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.’ Psalm 139:14. My Gravel is fearfully and wonderfully made as a woman by our Creator. She can say this verse to our Maker, and in her case it is
the most superlative of women who can declare this. To God be the glory.” Then he said, “’And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.’ Ruth 1:16-17. As Ruth proclaimed this to her mother-in-law Naomi, so would I proclaim verbatim to my dear Gravel, were I not to love my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ even more.”
Then he said, “’Let thy fountain be blessed: and rejoice with the wife of thy youth. Let her be as the loving hind and pleasant roe; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; and be thou ravished always with her love.’ Proverbs 5:18-19. Let me sum up this in one name if I dare stop and dream sweet magic of romance: ‘Mrs. Lisa “Gravel” Nickels.’”
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Just then a most sweet and reminiscent voice of ago called forth here in this gymnasium, “Cousin Grandy. Cousin Melanie.”
And the cheerleaders Grandy and Melanie called back, “Cousin Lisa.”
Flanders turned to look. Could it be? Was it true? Was this she? There stood the real Daughter of Aphrodite, years later, but still just as beautiful, but now even more so! “Gravel?” he called out.
Incomprehension came upon her face. She had never known of his pet nickname for her.
And she called back most ardently, “Flanders!”
“Lisa Derbique!” he called back in equal ardor. And his most beautiful girl gave him an impulse hug of welcome back. And he hugged her right back. He had never done that before with any woman.
“What are you doing here, Flanders?” asked most fair Lisa. “It’s great to see you. It’s been a while.”
“I never thought to see you again, Lisa,” he said. “And here you are still the most comely girl in the world for me. What brought you here?”
“Oh, I came to pick up my cousins and to drive them back home to Pulaski,” said Lisa. He paused to look upon his Gravel the Fox to see what she had on today. It was a plaid cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans and a pair of sneakers, all with an unbuttoned blue navy pea coat covering herself. He liked it. It was pretty. And she was beautiful. In one hand she held on to a bomber hat, and in the other hand she held on to a pair of leather mittens.
“Who’s this ‘Gravel’ that you called me?” asked Lisa.
“Oh, just a character in my short stories, Lisa,” he said.
“So, you write about me, Flanders,” said Gravel with clever insight.
“Yes. Lots,” he confessed.
“You have not forgotten about me,” she said.
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“No. I have not,” he said.
“I have not forgotten you, either,” she said. “I still remember our days together in the grocery store.”
“You had a sister that worked there for a while, too,” he said.
“That was Laurie,” she said.
“She worked there for about three months, I think,” he said. “And you worked there for about maybe five months,” he said.
“Did you miss me?” she asked.
“I do miss you, Lisa,” he said.
“How come you never asked me out, Flanders?” she asked.
“God told me not to right then, Lisa,” he said.
“Does God still tell you not to?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t think that God would change His mind about something like that,” he said.
“Do you know why the Lord told you not to go out with me?” asked Gravel.
“I do most definitely know, Lisa,” he said. “It was because you were unsaved.”
“Then you are a saved person, Flanders?” she asked.
“I am, Lisa,” he said.
“Maybe it is all wrong for a saved man to date an unsaved woman,” she said in surmise.
“Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers,” said Flanders in Holy Spirit utterance and in affirmation of her own words.
“Maybe now you can tell me a little of what I need to know about God,” she said. “Would God be disappointed in you if you went out with me this night to maybe get me saved?”
Just then Flanders remembered another ‘Gravel verse,’ his eighth Gravel verse of the Bible.
It was a powerful witnessing Scripture verse spoken by Isaiah bowing before God on His throne.
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And for Flanders it was a verse about his most important lost soul of lost souls—the unsaved soul of Gravel. This was Isaiah 6:8, and Isaiah 6:8 said this, “Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.” Isaiah answered God’s call for him to prophesy. And Flanders had made himself available to answer God’s call to witness to
Gravel. Well, here it was. This time had come upon him. And it was now. This date this night would not be unequal yoke in romance, but, rather, witnessing to the most important soul of his witness life
and trying to win her soul for Christ.
“Shall we walk in the winter, Lisa?” he asked.
“I’d like that, Flanders,” she said.
“We’ll wait here at the school until you get saved, Cousin Lisa,” said Grandy.
“Go and find the Lord, Cousin Lisa,” said Melanie.
And Flanders and Gravel went out into the winter of Wisconsin night in De Pere. She buttoned up her navy pea coat and put on her hat and mittens. Flanders covered up for the winter as well, and he held his King James Bible in both hands. The snow was falling now in big flakes. And it warmed up a little since earlier this evening. And here he was alone with God and with the Daughter of Aphrodite.
And they walked together. At first they spoke not here in the night. At first they gave themselves to happy thoughts of togetherness. At first they did not get right to the born-again message.
But then Lisa asked him, “So, Flanders…how did you get saved then?”
“It was through the laboring in the Lord of both Pastor and his wife Emmy,” said Flanders. “It was his Baptist church’s Thursday Evening Visitation program. I was living in a little unhappy apartment on Elm Street in east Green Bay at the time. Elm Street was perhaps the roughest street in all of Green Bay. My apartment there, as in all of my apartments I have lived in, was an upper apartment, which is what I like. And Pastor was not too afraid to go knocking on any doors of any street, whether benevolent or malevolent. He determined to get the Word of God out to all who needed
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it in his mission field. God had sent Pastor to minister to De Pere. And for Pastor that meant not only to De Pere—both east De Pere and west De Pere—but also to Green Bay and to Ashwaubenon and to
Allouez and to Howard and to Bellevue and to Ledgeview and to the countrysides beyond. I heard later Pastor telling me that Elm Street was the one street with the most Satanic oppression against him of any of the streets that he did go and call on in his many years of visitation. And I lived there for a year-and-a-quarter. And that one Thursday night when he and Emmy came knocking on my door, I was
memorizing cheerleader cheers from a real neat book I had checked out from the Brown County Library. I loved the cheerleaders back then, too, in my late twenties. And memorizing cheerleader chants like these was even more fun than memorizing vocabulary words from little flash cards. I did both on Elm Street. And in the middle of that one cheer I was studying, that was when Pastor and his wife came calling. The knock on my door was not an unusual thing for me here in Apartment Three.
My neighbors in the same building and I visited each other from time-to-time. Yet, when I answered the door, this time it was not my neighbor. Instead an older couple stood there, all dressed up nicely like for church, and both with Bibles and little booklets in their hands. And the man said to me, ‘Hi there. We are from Blessed Hope Baptist Church. And we are out giving out the Word of God and sharing the Gospel to folk in this neighborhood.’
Then the woman said, ‘We are Pastor and his wife. And we would like to give you this salvation tract that tells how to get to Heaven.’ She took a tract from a pack of tracts in her hand and held it out to me. It was free. Everybody likes free things. So did I. And I reached out and took it, and I thanked them for it.
Then Pastor asked me, ‘Young man, do you know for sure where you’re going when you die?’
Nobody asked me a question like that before, and I did not know how to answer that. So I said to them, ‘I never thought about that before, sir, ma’am.’
Then the pastor said, ‘It’s something to think about. We never know when our turn to die
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comes up. And we need to be ready.”
I then said, ‘I will be six feet under.’ Then I said, ‘I am not ready for that.’
But right away Pastor said to me, ‘That’s not how it works with people. With people, they will live forever after as long as God lives in His attribute of immortality.’
And Emmy could see the confusion in my face. She quickly said, ‘When we humans die, we either go to Heaven for forever, or we go to Hell for forever.’
Pastor said, ‘What you said about being six feet under is the doctrine of annihilation. The true doctrine of annihilation is only for animals, not people. People have souls that Jesus died for. Animals, though they glorify God, too, have not souls. The soul is eternal. Hence Heaven or Hell in the afterlife, all based upon what you decide to do with Jesus in this life down here on Earth, whether it be a long life or a short life.’
“I believe you. Though I never heard such things, I believe you,’ I said. ‘How can I get to go to the Good Place and stay out of the bad place in my own afterlife?’
And Emmy said, ‘Just become a born-again Christian, and everything about your eternal soul will be forever well.’
‘It is written,’ said Pastor, ‘”Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth forever.” I Peter 1:23. Again it is written, “Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” John 3:3. And yet again is it written, “Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again.” John 3:7.’ Then the pastor stopped saying these Scripture verses about being born again.
And Pastor’s wife said, ‘Those three verses are the only verses in the Bible that talk about being born again.’
Pastor then said, ‘Believe that Jesus died for your sins and rose again the third day. Only believe.’
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And I said, ‘What must I do to become a born-again believer?’
And Pastor said, ‘Just pray and ask God to save you from your sins.’
“I have many sins,’ I said.
‘Confess the cross and the resurrection,’ he then said.
‘He did die for me, and He did rise again,’ I confessed the Gospel that he had just told me about.
‘Now go ahead and accept the free gift of eternal life,’ Pastor then told me.
‘That means I must pray in order to get saved,’ I said in Holy Spirit conviction.
‘I will be glad to lead you through the prayer,’ he told me.
‘I would like that,’ I said to them both. And Pastor led me through a prayer where I confessed myself a sinner before a holy God, and I apologized for my sins, and I confessed the saving Gospel, and I asked Jesus Christ to become my own personal Saviour from Hell, and I accepted Jesus Christ as my own personal Saviour for Heaven. And then I said, ‘In Jesus’s name. Amen.’ And, behold, I was suddenly a born-again Christian. I did not have to do anything to get saved—all I had to do was to ask for it humbly, repentantly, and sincerely. And Jesus did give me everlasting life. Now I walk around and sing the great hymn, ‘It Is Well With My Soul.’ And I have forever with God in Heaven to look forward to. Amen, Lisa! Would you like to get saved, too?”
At first Gravel did not say anything either affirmative or negative.
And Flanders fell upon a stricken look in his face in great cares for her. And he looked up to Heaven and prayed, “O God, I asked her the big question too early.” Then he looked back upon her and did say, “If you say, ‘No,’ I shall be unhappy for the rest of my life on Earth until the day I come home to Heaven and be with my Lord, O Lisa.”
She then said slowly and resolutely and positively, “I would like to say, ‘Yes.’ I want to get saved, too, like you, Flanders.”
“Praise the Lamb of God for sinners slain!” he prayed in exultant spirits right up to God’s
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throne. “Praise the Lion of the tribe of Judah for so great salvation!”
“Amen! Amen!” said Gravel, herself swept up with his own most justifiable excitement of this eternal decision.
“I love you, girl!” he said.
“And I love you, Flanders,” she said.
Her own beautiful eyes of brown looking up toward Heaven, Gravel said to God, “Take me. Accept me. Forgive me. Free me. Change me. Rescue me. Save me.” Then she looked back at Flanders in this falling snow, and she said, “I am ready now to pray and become a Christian.”
And, a life dream of a lonely man come true, Flanders Nickels led Lisa Derbique line-by-line through the sinners’ prayer unto her own so great salvation in Jesus Christ.
And right then the Holy Spirit told Flanders in his heart, “This girl will no longer come into your quiet time with me to take away your joy of the Lord in any more of your worship of me.”
And right then this same Holy Spirit came to dwell within Gravel as well, as what happens every time a lost soul finds Christ as Saviour.
And Lisa said, “I know God now, Flanders.”
“It is great to know God, Lisa,” said Flanders.
“Maybe we should get back to the high school. Grandy and Melanie might start worrying what became of us,” said Lisa.
“I cannot wait to tell your cousins what happened for you this night, Lisa,” said Flanders.
“Oooo! Let me be the one who tells them,” said Gravel.
“They will be so glad,” he said. And they turned back to start walking back to West De Pere High School.
After a while, Gravel said, “When I was lost in our old days, God did not let you go out with me any. But now I am saved like you are. In our new days, do you think that God will let us become
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boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-the-Lord now? I am a Christian now just like you are.”
“Prom gown vs. pencil, Lisa,” he told her his conflict in life, whether Gravel were still lost or newly saved.
“What does that mean—prom gown vs. pencil, Flanders?” asked Gravel.
And he summed it up in one statement to her, “Lisa, in my walk with Christ, I can either date you as my girlfriend-in-Christ with my all, or I can continue writing my stories for Christ with my all.
I cannot give my all in life to both a girlfriend and to my writing in the same life. God has told me, ‘Flanders, either the one or the other. I decide.’ And it is not my decision to make, but God Whose decision it is to make.”
“The Lord must have told you to write your stories these ten past years since we parted as fellow workers,” said Gravel.
“Writing satisfies my creative needs in a most blessed way, Gravel,” he said.
“Do you think now from what happened this night for me that maybe God will say that it is time to put down the pencil and to go buy the prom gown?”
“God does not change His mind when He says, ‘No,’ or when He says, ‘Yes,’” said Flanders.
“But God does put changes in our lives, Flanders, and maybe you do not see these changes that He has put in your life and in my life this evening,” said Lisa Derbique.
“To quit my writing ministry just like that,” he said in remorse.
“To lose your Gravel a second time,” said Lisa Derbique in broken heart.
“I cried when I lost you the first time,” he said.
“Do you love me, Flanders?” asked Gravel.
“I do,” he said. “I most surely do.”
“And I love you, Flanders,” said Lisa.
“Should we go and buy a prom dress together for you sometime?” he asked, giving in a little to
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this foxy Gravel.
“Flanders, I make prom gowns for a living,” said this old flame of a woman so great and effectual words of truth and utter delight to him.
“You make real prom dresses, woman?” he said.
“All the time,” said Lisa Derbique. “I wonder now if you would like to come over first thing tomorrow morning to my seamstress shop and look at some of the prom gowns that I have been making recently.”
“Wow!” was all he could say.
“I could even put some of them on if you want to see your Gravel in a prom dress.”
“Girl, I was right when I called you, ‘The Daughter of Aphrodite!’” he did exclaim.
“Lisa ‘Gravel’ Derbique—the Daughter of Aphrodite,” said this most beautiful woman that Flanders had ever known.
“Put it on!” he said. “Put them on!” And he felt a giddy feeling come into his head that made him happily dizzy.
“Shall we go ahead and have a great time together in a rendezvous in my shop tomorrow, Flanders?” asked this most exciting girl.
“Yes. Let’s,” he said.
“Forget about the goofy pencils that you have all over your house,” said the girl about his short story collection for God.
The Holy Spirit of God, in His innate Goodness and Greatness, spoke now into Flanders’s head, saying in divine silent thoughts, “Tomorrow morning, write about this prom gown fox in a brand new story.” At first he thought to say back to this Holy Ghost, “But tomorrow I will be on a date with this prom dress fox, Lord.” But God reminded him in a Holy Spirit inspiration the most blessed feel of a pencil held in his hand. Flanders remembered the singular beauty of a pad of yellow writing paper
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upon the table all ready for his pencil. God told him now in Godly reminiscence of his collection of electronic typewriters along the floor in his storage area outside of his upper apartment. And Flanders remembered with God his favorite electronic typewriter upon his writing desk now, awaiting the transfer of his latest story from handwritten version to hard copy; it was black with black keys and white letters. And God “showed to him” his pad of five hundred sheets of white paper which he had in his closet for many more short stories to come. And Flanders Nickels desired to come back home and again look upon his cherished wooden filing cabinet of two drawers; his woodworker older brother had made this for him in his shop. And the man of the pencil became filled up with the Spirit of the Lord to again feel the fellowship with God alone that he always got best in his worship of writing with and for Jesus. With his pencil, and his other writing accouterments, he and the Good Lord always created together in all of his short stories. Flanders the writer did create with the Creator at his writing table and at his writing desk. And then the Holy Spirit told him of the fruit he did bring forth from his ministry as a professional writer. People did read his short stories. People did get saved from his short stories. Christians were encouraged and exhorted in his short stories. God did get the glory from his short stories. God willed him to continue writing his short stories. And then God did tell him in the thoughts of his head and heart, “Someday you will write also novels for me, My son.”
Why did he need a Daughter of Aphrodite for a Christian girlfriend?
“What is it that you do think about so earnestly, Flanders?” asked Lisa “Gravel” Derbique.
And he came to remember his girl at his side here in the falling snow of winter night.
“You look different now,” she said. “You look happy in a different way now.”
“I’m a writer, not a boyfriend, Gravel,” he confessed.
“You do not want to come over for a date in my shop tomorrow, Flanders?” she asked.
“I will stay home tomorrow and write my next story, Lisa,” he said.
Sorrow in her eyes, she said, “I understand. What God wills for you, you must do.”
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“Oh, but Lisa. I want to write,” he said.
“You are a good man of God,” she said.
“And you are a beautiful daughter of God, Lisa,” he said.
“You’re leaving me tonight,” she said, knowing his words in their full meaning.
“God is good, most fair Lisa,” he said to her.
“God is good,” said Lisa in faith.
“This story that I will begin tomorrow will be another of my classic Gravel stories,” he said.
“The story will be about myself,” said Gravel in understanding. “The setting of the story will be your prom gown shop,” he said.
“With your writing skills you can make my prom dress work area an enchanted land,” she said, bragging on him in her sadness.
“And I can make the seamstress a goddess of a lady in feature and in form and in righteousness,” he did tell her.
“Will you call the story ‘The Daughter of Aphrodite,’ O Flanders?” asked Gravel.
“That I shall do,” he promised.
“I know how the plot of the story will go,” she said. “Boy meets girl. Boy walks with girl. Boy loses girl.” And she said right after that, “And it has a happy ending for the boy.”
“Will it have a happy ending for the girl, O Gravel?” he asked.
“Yes, Flanders,” she said. “The girl got born again because of the walk. She has a new happy beginning in life now. And no matter what happens to the kind of lonesome girl her life will have a happy ending when her time comes, because now she will be in Heaven someday a long time from now.”
“Will you still miss me, though, O Lisa?” he asked.
“I shall miss you much, O Flanders Nickels,” she did confess.
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“I shall miss you much, too, comely Lisa,” he said.
“Will you write salvation stories about your Gravel?” she asked.
“Yes. I will,” he said.
In great savvy she did sum up his ministry as a writer of his classic Gravel stories, saying, “When a lost reader reads the sinners’ prayer that Flanders leads Gravel through to her own salvation, that same reader will pray the sinners’ prayer along with Gravel unto his own salvation. Or, when a lost reader reads the sinners’ prayer that Gravel leads Flanders through to Flanders’s salvation, that same reader of the story will pray that same prayer for himself and will get saved himself just as Flanders does in the story.”
“You understand now why God had me to choose the pencil over the prom gown, Gravel,” he said.
“You are a wise and good and faithful son of God, Flanders,” said Gravel. “I understand, and I agree with yours and God’s choice.”
Indeed had the writer Flanders won more souls in his writing ministry even than he did on the church’s visitation program of Thursday nights.
Lo, there stood West De Pere High School. They were back. All the lights inside were off.
The lights outside were still on. And there stood two cheerleaders of a time that seemed like long ago, both standing out in front of the doors. Only one car was left in the lot—Lisa’s car. The two waved to them, and they waved back to the two. And Flanders and Lisa came up to Grandy and Melanie. Lisa told her two cousins how she became a born-again believer, and all four rejoiced in most happy joy in the Lord.
And Flanders remembered that he had not yet prayed in his quiet time with the Lord this night. He had stayed out tonight longer than he had thought to. It was time to go home and do his most favorite thing to do in worship. Feeling awkward now with the three pretty cousins, after having turned
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down Gravel the Fox for the rest of his life, Flanders Nickels said, “Well, I better go home and do my nightly prayer tonight.”
“I’ll give you a ride home, if you’d like,” said Gravel.
“No. I wish to walk home tonight,” he did say. “I can get a head start on my prayer if I walk instead of ride back to east De Pere.”
“You are a mighty prayer-warrior, good Flanders,” said Lisa.
“I’ve got lots to pray about all of a sudden,” he said.
“You made the right decision tonight about the rest of your life, O Flanders,” said Gravel.
“It is written, ‘If ye love me, keep my commandments.’ John 14:15,” said Flanders. “Again it is written, ‘Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.’ John 15:14.”
“You do love Jesus, Flanders,” she said. “And you are a friend of Jesus,”
She then took off her mitten to her right hand and proffered it to Flanders. It was time now. It was time for their official good-bye. It would be a handshake of farewell. He took off his mitten of his right hand also. He did not look up at her face right now. He looked upon her beautiful feminine right hand. He reached out his hand to her hand. He took her hand in his hand. He shook her hand in his hand. He did not turn away his look from her hand. He saw her hand release his hand. He saw her hand leave his hand. He saw her hand draw back. He did not again look up at her face. He felt lonely.
The hand was gone. He turned his back. And he said not a word. He began to walk away from the Daughter of Aphrodite. He never looked upon her face again. He just walked back toward the bridge that joined this west De Pere to that east De Pere. All he could remember about his Gravel now was that hand of goodbye. He felt lonesome. But he was glad in the Lord. And he began to pray this night’s prayer to his Heavenly Father. And at once he was comforted by the Holy Comforter. And he was sad no longer. And his prayer thrived with the Spirit of the Lord. Prom gown vs. pencil? No more. God called Flanders not to date a girlfriend, but to write stories about a girlfriend. And he was
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most glad for that. And Flanders Arckery Nickels was happy in the Lord for that. And God was right.
After all, it is written, “If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.” John 13:17.
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