Interactions with God #33
While still settling into my new apartment in Houston, I was meeting with Pastor Taylor on a regular basis. This was not very difficult as he was only a few doors away. I was feeling rather hopeful after the events that happened with Ray. Pastor Taylor was becoming a friend, even a mentor or so I thought. I even let his large German Shepard dog stay in my apartment with me (apparently his lease or his wife wouldn’t allow it… not sure which). However, these meetings began to take a strange turn in a relatively short time.
The whole situation was already bizarre. Here I was, now an outcast due to my leaving the House of Israel Ministry, but still attending the same church as they were. It was a rather small church too, a total of about 25 to 30 people at most. There was no place to hide. Not that I was looking to hide, but it did make my Sunday experience a bit awkward to say the least. Ray of course was friendly with that nasty edge. Fun, fun, fun. But that was minor compared to what would happen next.
Charles Taylor was an older man. Probably in his late 60’s at this point. He seemed at first to be a nice enough guy, but he also had an edge to him. Yea, I know, most people do, but when that edge tends to treat others badly… well, edge isn’t the word I would really use anymore.
Taylor had a business. It was an armed Security Service. A patrol of neighborhoods and used car lots. He had recruited me to work for him. Once in there, he proceeded to work me to the bone. Well, I could have said no, but there was no saying no to Charles Taylor. My job was to work during the day a few days a week trying to sell his service to businesses already on the routes his company patrolled and also, work nights from 8pm to 8 am…driving up and down two long streets to guard used car lots.
It didn’t take too long to realize that Pastor Taylor wasn’t all that honest himself. He had a contract with a whole neighborhood for night time patrol, but lost most of his customers there. These customers were just regular homeowners. Though he no longer had many of these homeowners, he still took the money from those who paid, yet was no longer patrolling that area. Yea, I had an issue with that. Especially after the stuff I let Ray get away with. Again, though, I didn’t say much and I still continued to pursue this working relationship. You would think I would have learned by now.
So I left working with Dave at the cabinet shop and went into a full time mess with Charles Taylor. Working nights is hard. Working nights and then switching to days is REALLY hard. I started to become a basket case. Most of the time I didn’t realize Taylor was taking advantage of me, frankly, I was just too tired to consider it. Yet he was.
It came to a head when I started forgetting things. Now everybody forgets things but he would get really mad at me for it. I would apologize and explain that I am trying to get used to the switching hours, yet he would tell me I shouldn’t need but 5 hours of sleep at a time. He implied that to need more was lazy. Yea, nice guy… pastor and all. One night in particular, I noticed the large dog was having a stomach issue…diarrhea, yet I had to take a night shift patrolling the car lots. I asked Pastor Taylor to stop by my apartment and take the dog out. He said that he would, but he forgot. When I got home that morning, completely comatose already, I found an apartment full of poo. Yes, poo. Everywhere. Taylor didn’t check on the dog, no, not once.
I didn’t call anyone, I didn’t yell at anyone. I went out into the parking lot of the apartment complex, sat on a little wall and cried. I was losing it. Just out of the mess with crazy Ray, now I realized I had found another mess. After a few minutes, and a few odd looks, I brushed myself off and walked to the local grocery store where I rented a steam cleaner. Mind you, I had been up for 24 hours at this point. There was just no sleeping in that apartment till I cleaned it though. It smelled really bad. I cleaned all the bad spots and then went to sleep. I don’t remember how long it took, I don’t think I cared at that point.
That same night, Taylor, wanted to show a member of the church, one of the lots he patrolled. I think they wanted to look at a car there, didn’t know, didn’t really care. He showed up at the lot but ran into a snag…he didn’t have the keys to get in… I did. I was supposed to have put them in his trunk that morning, but in the confusion, I forgot. He was mad. So I got in one of the cars and drove out there to give them the keys. When I got there, he chewed me out, really chewed me out. All I could do was think of how he let me down regarding the dog, but that didn’t matter and I knew it.
I went back to my apartment and got down on my knees. I had a problem. I wanted to get out of this mess really bad. However, I had given my word to Taylor to help him with his business. My word wasn’t contingent on how I was being treated. No, my word was before God, not just Charles Taylor. The only way I could change it was for God to do something. So I asked Him to.
My car had broken down earlier, so I was stuck using one of Taylor’s cars, when they were available. Otherwise, I had no vehicle. Within a day or so of the “key” incident, Taylor asked me to drop one of his cars at the shop. He said he would come and pick me up. He did, about 2 hours later. I sat there on the curb and just begged God to get me out of this mess. When Taylor finally pulled up, he took me to lunch at a local restaurant. At the restaurant he said he noticed that I had been struggling with things… (ya think!). He said that he thought maybe I could use a break. He said that I should head home for a while. He was letting me go from my commitment! This was my open door from God and I took it.
I called my parents, now living in NH, and told them I was coming home. I left my car in the shop, most of my stuff to my neighbors, and moved from Houston with a bag or two. Two days later I was in Hudson, NH terribly thin and seriously relieved.