War Room Read Free Page B

clue what it was or why she should do it. Skydiving? She chuckled. At her age the ground was already too far away. Find some homeless woman down on the corner by the grocery and give her a sandwich? She had done that the day before.
    Clara knew that prayer could easily become a list of things for God to do. Just run through the gamut of wants, needs, or things hoped for and put an amen at the end. Any way you sliced it, she thought, it was selfish. At thecore of every human heart was someone who wanted to please herself, she believed, and that truth fought against the power of prayer.
    Prayer, at its most basic level, was surrender. Like Jesus in the garden, saying, “Not My will, but Yours, be done.” The ironic thing was, when a person surrendered their will, they got God’s, and then they received what they were really looking for all along. This was what she believed.
    Earlier in her life, she had looked at prayer as talking to God and telling Him things. It was like crawling up in the lap of a daddy and explaining your aches and pains and disappointments. But after a while, she discovered the listening part of prayer, the allowing of God’s Holy Spirit to move and help her recall things and desire things she hadn’t requested.
    In her war room, the little closet on the second floor of her home, something began to stir. There was no audible voice, no mysterious letters sticking out at her from the word jumble in the morning paper. It was simply a sense that God was moving, pushing her from her comfort zone. She had no idea what that meant, and the more she prayed and asked God what the feeling was, the more quiet the Almighty seemed to get.
    “Whatever You want to do, Lord, I’m willing to go with You. Just lead the way.”
    And then she waited.

CHAPTER 2

    Tony pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition. He hit the remote and watched the garage door inch its way down behind him. He had flipped through stations on his way home, trying to subdue the anger with some song on an oldies station, but instead he heard a conversation on a sports talk program about another football player accused of doping. The player had also had a public conflict with his wife. Everywhere Tony looked, he was being brought back to his situation with Elizabeth. Why did she have to do that with their money? Why did she spend . . . ?
    He had switched off the radio and stewed as he drove the familiar streets of Concord, North Carolina. It wasfunny how he could get in the groove of his thoughts and not remember making turns or passing familiar landmarks. Such was life on the road.
    He loved Elizabeth. He had always loved her. But he didn’t like her right now and couldn’t remember the last time the two had spent an evening together without getting into an argument. Maybe this was what married life became. Maybe this was the rut you got into and had to stay in the rest of your life. But he hadn’t signed up for this.
    As the garage door shut, Tony grabbed his satchel, and the business card Veronica had given him fell to the floor. He picked it up, pulled out his phone, and flipped to the app where he kept important names and numbers he needed to remember. This would record the information and any notes on his phone, but he could also access it from any device. He held the card to his nose and smelled a slight hint of Veronica’s perfume that lingered. She was so delicate   —slim and vibrant and younger. And interested. She’d given him the distinct impression that she was interested. It had been a long time since he’d felt that from anyone. Especially Elizabeth.
    He put the card in his satchel and took a deep breath. He was not going to yell. He was not going to fly off the handle. He was not going to be “somewhere else,” as Elizabeth often accused him. He would be there for Danielle and his wife. But before he could be there, he needed to set the money thing straight. If he got that out of the way, he’d be fine. He