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| Looking for Waylan. |
As I stepped onto the jet bridge, I could feel the lovely
heat already. Generally, I like heat.
Not only had I never met Waylan Dabbs, I did not even know
what he looked like. Waylan told me to give him a call once outside, and look
for a red Lexus.
There it was!
And here he is!
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| (Click photos to enlarge.) |
You folks would like Waylan. He is a “good old boy” from North
Carolina who came to south Florida
in ’07, but hasn’t let the “good old boy” get away. His path to truth
brought him in and out of the North Carolina Bible Belt—into condemnation and
death; out into the blinding sun of grace and life. When God’s hand is on you
and His intention is to call you, He can bring you out of anything, even the
Bible Belt. (Being chosen before the disruption of the world for the place of a son, certainly helps.)
But God doesn’t go as the crow flies. (United Airlines has
become imitators of Him (Ephesians 5:1; see yesterday's post.).
I experienced the same marvel—conversing with Waylan en rout
to his house—that I’ve always experienced with like-minded folks: instant
camaraderie, and the sense you’ve somehow known these people forever.
Waylan has done well for himself here in Coral
Springs , to which these photos attest. He is branch
manager for Crown Lift Truck. He has scored mightily in the dog department,
too, to which Zack will attest. (Zack is wearing a sweater in these photos
because, though it is in the high 70’s right now, Zack thinks he is cold. Well,
Zack just went to the barber and got a Marine-like buzz-cut all over his body,
so the poor pooch would be shivering without his handsome sweater. What a cute
little pooch!
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| Poor chilly pooch. |
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| Zack strikes a pose, poolside. |
* * *
Did you know that Waylan’s wife, Regena, did not always
believe as Waylan does? Well, at one time, not even Waylan believed as Waylan
does. Back in 2006, Waylan promised a not-very-happy Regena that he would “stop
all this truth stuff,”—although Regena did not exactly call it “truth.” Waylan
loves his wife, so he stashed his stuff away like so much God-porn. But then, only
a few days later, a book came in the mail that might only be described as “God-porn
on steroids”: Martin Zender Goes To Hell.
As Waylan tells it, “Regina
said, ‘I thought you said you were going to quit this stuff!’ She was not happy
about it, to say the least. In fact, she marched over to the waste can and
threw the book in the trash.”
“I chucked it in the trash,” said Regena. “I
hated it.”
Waylan was grateful to have an errand to run, while God stayed home.
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Regena with the book she pulled from the trash--after throwing it in.
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“For some reason—I didn’t know why at the time—I could not
stop thinking about that darned book,” said Regena. “I was having a wrestling
match with myself about whether to go and get it. I wanted to, then I didn’t. I
kept see-sawing back and forth. Finally, I couldn’t take it any more. I told
myself maybe I’d just take a little peek at a couple pages. Well, that’s all it
took.”
When Waylan returned home, he was surprised as could be to
hear Regina say, “Way (that’s her
nickname for him), I think you’re right about these things. I think I’m seeing
it.”
The date was July
15, 2006 . The date is certain, because Regena dated the inside
front cover and wrote: “Way—I love you with all my heart. Love, Regena.”
* * *
Waylan and Regena’s son Josh and his wife, Ashley, came over
Monday night. They were stoked to meet and greet the guy recently arrived from
the great white Pennsylvania north, with whom they’d fellowshipped so much but
had never seen in flesh. It was one of the warmest, most fun welcomes ever. Ashley
literally poked me in the shoulder several times and said, “You’re real. Sorry.
I just wanted to see if you were real. You are real.”
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| Josh and Ashley |
Everything was soothed this night but my throat, which seems
to be getting more raw by the day.
What could cure it? Hm. Possibly a trip to the beach.
© 2013 by Martin Zender
