The Valley of Candles is free until 9/22, get your copy
here. The following is an excerpt.
When I reached my house the time was getting close to two in the morning. As I pulled in I switched off the lights of my car before they set the house ablaze. The lights were still on in the living room as I could see them walking up the drive. I wondered if he was still awake. As I approached the house I could hear the phone ring and quickly thought of the previous events not an hour before, knowing the Pastor had second thoughts. As I got closer the television took over the phone in annoyance as it blared its white noise.
All the lights were on in the house it seemed, which really didn't surprise me knowing my father’s sleeping habits.
I started through the house turning out lights leaving the living room to last and finding a sleeping aging man of 47 years old that had drifted off while reading the big book.
This type of behavior had been a ritual with my dad ever since I could remember. Without a second thought I grabbed a blanket that was draped over the couch and placed it over him. Then I turned out the light and turned off the television and headed upstairs to bed. Only thinking of sleeping away this terrible nightmare that had become my life in the last thirty minutes.
As I settled into bed the only thing I could think of was how my dad would react to such news. My mind kept mulling over different scenarios. Slowly my dad's raucous snoring began to seep under my door into my ears. I tossed and turned in bed hoping the excessive movement would tire me out. Images of my father looming over me, Bible in hand screaming verses, or taking me out of school to home school me, or worse yet, him making me bring Anne over to discuss the situation. But then I convinced myself how much in the dark my dad was. He knew nothing about my life, only what I wanted him to know and even then it was very little. Shortly after I fell asleep dreaming of Anne sitting on my lap staring down at me.
My dad ate breakfast the same way every day. He would begin by getting up at 6:30 each and every morning. Preparing the coffee the morning before really helped his morning ritual. By the time his shower was finished the fresh aroma would awaken his senses to the Lord's Day. He would become instantly refreshed, no matter how much sleep he had the night before. He would continue after getting his coffee by pouring a bowl of cereal. Sitting at the kitchen table he would begin to methodically start his day the way the Lord planned. He was a man that looked like a Bible Salesman in every sense of the phrase. As brewed coffee filled the air, George rose and grabbed himself a second cup. The clock on the wall read 7:30 a.m. Before he began he would pray the prayer of his day. It was always the same focused with love and devotion and a longing to be closer to God.
"Dear Lord, I thank your heavenly grace for this meal and the beautiful day you have brought us. Your love can be seen in so many ways. I cherish the thought of the day I come before you and see the palace you have prepared. I thank you for all you've done, I ask you for guidance today Lord as I go out into the world and prepare your message and your will. Instill your love in me and flow through me with words of love and acts of compassion. I trust you with all that I am. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen."
He was wearing a white short sleeved shirt and black tie; eyes closed praying intently throughout raising his hands high. During the prayer I entered, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a coat in hand. I was impatient, ready for the day to be over.
"We going to this thing or what?"
My impatience not only showed in my voice but also my posture as I reached for the door, hoping my dad would follow right after. He looked up to see me and suddenly became confused.
"Huh?" He asked with surprising wonder.
"What time do we even have to be there?" I persisted, wondering how much of this crazy play I would have to act as I felt it wearing me down.
"McCoy, I thought you were still asleep,” my dad stated with no emotion silently saying we weren't going anywhere yet.
"No, I am here wide awake bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to move."
"There is no need for that kind of talk young-” dad was about to say but I cut him short.
"How long do you think this going to take?"
With each passing moment I was growing impatient leaning against the wall, then the refrigerator. He picked up on this as if he was suddenly speaking to someone who had just come in for an eighteen pack of Miller Light and carton of cigarettes, waiting for his change, his voice quickly took a different tone. He held my change and decided to count it out penny by penny rather than give me a fistful of dollars so I could be on his merry way. He went on eating his breakfast.
"You sure you don't want any breakfast son, you look like you didn't get much sleep, what time did you finally stroll in?"
"I don't know, late,” I said trying not to bring the previous nights adventures up any more than I had to. I knew we probably would have to pick up the Pastor before the rally and I quickly despised the friendship that man and my father had even more. I felt a pressure to get this part of my life over with as quickly as possible and pushing once again with a little more sarcasm than I probably should have, "Well, I am too old to watch Saturday morning cartoons, and I never eat breakfast, I am awake, taken a shower. What do you think? You ready to go?"
He pointed to a bowl on the sink and I shook my head saying, "I am not hungry, I already told you, I just want to go."
"Have you completed your morning reading?" Dad asked ignoring my protests as if I had never spoken.
"Yeah, Proverbs 21 and still working through 1st Samuel."
He took pleasure in this. God is one thing he would stop what he was doing immediately and pay attention to what was being said.
"What did you learn?"
I tried searching for an answer that would satisfy him and thought it would have been easier to just turn and walk out leaving dad sitting there waiting. Deciding that might not be the best idea, I leaned against the door.
"You know a little of this a little of that."
He looked over at me with a watchful eye knowing I didn't read it searching me with probing eyes. He knew I had a hard time getting into the Bible but he was determined to show me the only way to true happiness was through a personal relationship with God. Reading the Bible every day, meditating on its message was the only way he believed it was possible. I shifted from leg to leg leaning against the door trying to bury myself into it, just wanting out.
"What was your favorite verse?" he asked seeing the uncomfortable look I had written on my face.
"Ah, Proverbs 21:8." I said, picking a verse.
He immediately jumped on the verse like he just read it, showing me what he believed to be real study of God's word.
"Yes. 'The way of man is forward and strange; but as for the pure, his work is right.' Good verse. You know the first time I read that-" he started reaching for his Bible.
I had enough and decided it was now or never, I needed to escape the grilling of what I didn't do. I knew my dad, and I hated the constant questions and probing.
"Look dad, are we going to this thing or not?" I said for the last time turning and facing the door.
"In time, in time, why are you in such a rush? We've still got a few minutes,” he said while shoveling more cereal into his mouth.
"I got things to do." I said suddenly thinking of what might have become of Anne. I tried calling her cell last night on the way home from the church but just received her voicemail.
"Better than going to do God's work?" I knew I should have chosen my words more carefully but decided it was too late to change my approach to his question.
"Yeah. I got a lot to do today," trying to think of a story that might get me out of the hole I just dug myself into.
A sour look came over his face as he stared hard at me. He moved closer, coffee cup in hand.
"Like what?" he asked taking a sip, inches from my face.
"Things." I said backing into the wall.
"McCoy, we are brought here to do God's work. That should come first-."
"Yeah, yeah." I uttered.
"McCoy, why are you going then if you have so many other things to do that is more important than doing God's work?" He asked knowing what my answer probably would be. 'He's a good kid, Lord just help understand the glory of doing your work.' he thought to himself.
"I just think it's the right thing to do. I mean life is important isn't it? We should all have life." I noticed the sudden smile on dad's face and continued. "As well as life, I really did plan on going to this for a long time. I just wanted to surprise you in my going. You surprised?" I shrugged moving once again towards the door and deciding that if dad were not to follow then I would just walk out and wait outside.
"Very. But I am perplexed, if you want to go so badly then why are you so touchy this morning?" I forgot I had asked my father a question. I knew he would answer with another.
Without a thought he took my words as truth.
"I just had a rough night."
"You wanna talk about it?" He asked, obviously concerned.
"No. I'll just wait for you by the car." I said and exited with the agitation.
Dad quickly downed the rest of his coffee, placed it on the counter, grabbed his Bible and praised the Lord for the strength he was just given to speak to me with God's love in his heart.
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- Antonio Grasso, author of The Valley of Candles
