17
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2002 RICHMOND HEIGHTS, MISSOURI RAY’S HOME
Ray looked out the window at burnished orange, red, and mustard leaves wafting gently to the ground under an azure blue sky. He didn’t want to share this letter, but he had to. Buck, Jeff, and Susannah sat around his kitchen table, glum looks across their faces. He had received the notice lying at the center of the table in yesterday’s mail and called the group together at once. The letterhead displayed the name of the property management company that owned the cable station building.
“Effective November 1, 2002, Management Properties is increasing television studio rent from five hundred dollars each week to one thousand dollars to contain rising expenses.” Seeing the dour faces, Ray knew no one had anticipated the news.
Jeff picked up the message, started to read it again, but threw it down in disgust. “We’ve finally got a little bit of success, and the building’s owners want to increase their cut by doubling the rent? Shit.”
Ray didn’t have an answer. Slowly grasping the document, he again read aloud, “Notice to terminate your lease must be given in writing by October 15, 2002. If we have not received written notice of cancellation, Management Properties will assume the tenant has agreed to these terms.” He couldn’t hide the exasperation. “We aren’t bringing in that kind of money.”
The diamond in Buck’s single pierced ear glinted in the fall sunlight. “This doesn’t have anything to do with our success,” he reasoned. “The area is undergoing gentrification, and the property management company sees this as an opportunity to increase revenue. Other programs will smart from an increase, too.”
“I want to have faith that we can overcome this and that the Lord will show us the way to two thousand dollars more a month, but I’m a realist,” Ray stated, scowling at the uninvited missive.
Susannah lifted the page off the table. She read it deliberately, before throwing it back into the center. “This doesn’t make sense. If there’s no program, there’s no rent.”
“True,” Buck acknowledged. “But they are banking on us not cancelling and renewing our lease at the higher price. The building’s owners think they have us between a rock and a hard place.”
“Well, don’t they?” Jeff asked.
On the verge of responding, Ray was interrupted before he could speak. Her fists clenched, Susannah proposed a plan Ray initially believed too far-fetched to broach with the others. “Fine. Let’s find another building.”
Buck’s weight shifted in his seat, the doubt rising in his eyes. “How? Susannah, we still have a ways to go financially and little time to find something, even if we did have the money.”
Susannah’s features softened, and her fists opened as if their problem had been solved. “We’ve had to ask members for support before, and they’ve come through in spades. Now we have real urgency; we need a building, or we shut down.”
Jeff and Buck’s words overlapped, heads shaking in unison. “No way!” and “That’s impossible!” but Ray stopped the chorus of naysayers. “She’s right,” he said, slowly meeting the doubters’ gaze. “Have we come this far only to give up? The worst that can happen is that nobody has a building or space to rent, but we won’t get an answer unless we ask.”
Buck folded his arms across his chest, and Jeff remained quiet. Ray forged ahead before they could open their mouths and start arguing. “We’ve walked this path before and with quite positive results. There’s no guarantee we’ll find a building. The spot we’re trapped in has little wiggle room for other options. This is the best we’ve got.” When Ray looked toward Susannah, goose bumps prickled his skin. He’d last felt this kind of courage with his wife—a complete willingness to go against convention as a team and trust in the unexpected. “Susannah is right,” he said again, softly brushing her hand. “I know exactly what to do.”
Prior to the broadcast’s conclusion the following Wednesday, Ray placed Susannah’s proposal before his congregation. The stage was nearly bare, so the audience could focus their attention on Ray’s urgent message. Standing at the center of the unadorned space, he spoke to his flock.
“Before we go forth to serve the Lord, I come before you today with the greatest challenge The Road to Calvary has ever faced. I have asked you to heed God’s call, and you have risen to the occasion and given of yourselves fully. But what I am about to reveal will affect each one of us.” He waited, looking deep into the faces before him. “We are confronted with a fiscal crisis of great magnitude—the inability to continue renting this space.”
Ray paused again as the murmurings of surprise and concern rolled among the audience.
“Unless we can find another location from which to broadcast The Road to Calvary, the program will shut down at the end of this month, four short weeks from today. I realize that what I am asking is no small thing, but I ask each of you to search your heart with humility and prayer for a solution. It doesn’t matter whether it’s another building we can rent for a reasonable amount or even negotiate to purchase. But we must find a new home, or we will not be able to continue.” Ray paused again and judged by the creased brows that he’d made his point. “Let us stand together and pray our prayer of deliverance.”
The congregation rose, repeating the prayer in strong, clear voices. Ray’s eyes met Susannah’s, and the reverend thought how distressing it would be if this beautiful woman’s presence, dreams, and ideas did not fulfill their potential. He had never met anyone like Susannah. Though he initially had been skeptical, he had come to trust that God had indeed spoken to her. In a few short months, she had bared her soul by coming forward and bravely telling her story of how The Road to Calvary kept her from the brink of death, handing her a second chance. Everything she had done was a completely selfless act; Susannah seemed simply interested in spreading the message of the Good News to a greater audience.
Ray listened as the congregation repeated the final stanza. This was the toughest obstacle they had ever faced. But he truly believed the Lord would see them through.
Less than three days passed before Ray received the phone call that was a remedy to his and many others’ prayers. Jim Jameson, whose miraculous “healing” from the ravages of alcoholism had changed The Road to Calvary from just another religious cable show to one delivering life-altering miracles, had a friend he wanted Ray to meet. Sober since Ray had called him forth, Jameson was working again, salvaging his marriage, and spreading the word about Ray’s gift.
And now, Ray, Susannah, Buck, and Jeff stood on the cement floor of a vast warehouse in an industrial section of St. Louis near the Gateway Arch and Riverfront. Jim stood alongside his friend and boss, Karl Wilcox, who expounded on ways the space could be developed to fit the needs of their program.
“The building is sixty-five thousand square feet and air conditioned. Jim’s told me that it’s important to keep all the television equipment cool,” he explained, waving muscular arms around the space the way a wizard might wield a magical scepter. “There’s room to erect a stage, seating can be expanded or contracted as needed, and you can add walls where you want offices, conference rooms, whatever. You can utilize the space any way you need.”