The Color of Hope

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO





Stephanie couldn’t believe she was leading a crowd of people down Maple Street. Head high, arm linked with Teri’s, every step felt steeped in purpose and conviction. She had no doubt this was inspired—she never walked, and certainly not in heels. Yet the idea had come to her clearly to announce a unity prayer walk that would proceed along Maple and end midway between the two churches, a total distance of about seven blocks. Stephanie had told them, “I don’t care If only ten of us go. If you care deeply about praying toward unity, let’s gather after the service and do it.”

The instructions had been simple. They would pray silently as they walked, and they’d pray in a circle once they reached the destination. But Stephanie was starting to wonder how large this circle would be. Every time she looked behind her, the crowd was growing bigger.

A cameraman ran past them and turned, walking backward as he filmed the procession of mourners who had reason to hope. Next officers on motorcycles zoomed by, redirecting traffic as the group spread more and more into the street.

Teri turned wide eyes to Stephanie. “This is amazing. I had no idea you planned all this.”

“I didn’t,” Stephanie said. “This is all God.”

Stephanie was so taken with everything happening around them she’d almost forgotten the charge. She set her mind to praying and imagined what it would look like if she could see all the prayers rising from Maple Street to heaven.

When she got midway between the churches, she picked a spot and stopped, which happened to be in front of somebody’s home. A woman walked out, clearly stunned by the mass of people moving up the street.

“What’s going on?” she said.

Stephanie met her in her walkway, unsure of the reaction she’d get. The woman had to have been aware of the memorial service . . . but what did it mean that she hadn’t gone?

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said. “We’re coming from the service for Samara Johnston. It’s a prayer walk for unity between the churches.” She hesitated. “Are you a member of Calvary?”

“All my life,” the woman said. She appeared to be in her fifties. “I couldn’t go to the service for that poor girl because I had to take Momma to the doctor.” She looked down the street. “You say it’s a prayer walk for unity?”

“Actually, we’re stopping right here between the churches to pray now.” Stephanie saw more and more people coming, forming a circle. “I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. We shouldn’t be long.”

“Won’t bother me at all,” she said. “I’m joining you.” She walked across her front yard. “Hey! Y’all can make the circle larger by standing in my yard. Come on up here!” She turned to Stephanie. “I’ll tell the neighbors to do the same.”

Stephanie smiled. “Thank you so much.”

Walking back, Stephanie saw the circle trying to take shape. Most of her family was in one section, Teri with them. Stephanie linked hands with Lindell to one side, Teri on the other. Aunt Gwynn linked with her sisters, Estelle and Gladys, Keisha with Janelle and Cyd. Marcus and Charley were near as well, though not near one another.

Stephanie grew more and more worried as the circle widened, and they moved farther and farther back. People were still coming. How would they accommodate everyone?

But one woman stopped short of their circle and formed another. The idea caught on and spawned at least four additional circles, smaller but large in their own right.

Charley suddenly moved from her spot, looking as if she’d seen something. She left the circle, searching, and minutes later returned with her mom. Stephanie watched as they came toward them.

Her mom spoke, eyes on Teri. “Miss Schechter, my name is Dottie Willoughby.” She paused. “This is about the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life. I didn’t attend the memorial service. Honestly, I was too ashamed. But when I got word of what was happening down here, I had to come.” Her eyes were moist. “I am so very, very sorry about Sam. I will never understand your pain. I’m just . . . so sorry . . .”

Teri reached for Dottie’s hand. “It’s not your fault. You’re hurting too.”

They held one another, clutching tighter as they cried together.

Teri took Dottie into the circle as a chain of whispers passed and people realized what was taking place. Charley was visibly moved, taking her mom’s hand—then Stephanie watched as Marcus moved from his spot and walked over to Charley.

Charley looked surprised. Marcus didn’t say a word. He simply grabbed her hand and stood beside her.

Todd and Travis entered the big circle, Travis carrying a bullhorn he must’ve gotten from an officer.

He lifted it to his mouth. “If we can have your attention, please . . .” He turned a different direction. “Attention, everyone, please.”

Travis and Todd spoke to one another as they waited for the crowd to quiet down.

“To say we are overwhelmed is an understatement,” Travis said. “Pastor Todd and I were just asking one another why we hadn’t come up with the idea of a unity prayer walk. We’ve been praying for unity, and for God to move in a special way with these two churches. But an idea like this never entered our minds.” He turned toward Teri. “For God to do this on a day like today . . . We’ll never forget it.”

He passed the bullhorn to Todd.

“Unity is the prayer,” Todd said. “By your presence here, is it safe to say we’re all in agreement that we want God to bring unity in the hearts of members of Calvary Church and New Jerusalem Church?”

An amazingly loud cheer went up.

Todd nodded. “Amen. Okay. But here’s a harder question. For the members of these churches, are you all willing to put your will aside and accept God’s will for us, whatever it might be?”

Stephanie watched Dottie say “Yes” with the rest of the crowd.

“And are you willing to keep praying until we sense what God’s will is?” Todd asked.

“Yes” and “Absolutely” rang out.

He handed the bullhorn back to Travis, who said, “Todd and I are about to pray. But first I want everyone to take in this sight, all of us wearing red ribbons of unity in honor of Samara Johnston.” He looked around at the crowd. “Let’s not lose sight of the fact that red also symbolizes the blood that Jesus shed so we could dwell in unity, so we could be healed from deep within.”

Travis gazed out among them. “Let us not forget that red is the color of hope.”