Chapter 39
Jabari
I shuffle to the door and yank on the knob so whoever’s pounding on the door will stop the racket. Each rap of their knuckles is like a sledgehammer to my skull. Javier raises his eyebrows, then my vision blurs and prevents me from noticing any other detail.
“What?” I croak.
“Yo, man, you look like warmed cheese.”
I take assessment of myself. “Yeah, that about sums it up.” I walk away from the foyer and back to the couch, where I’ve been curled up all day.
“You sick?” Javier asks quietly.
“Migraine meds haven’t done anything yet.” Which is why I flip the throw blanket right back over my head and sigh as darkness encloses me.
“Anything I can do?”
“No,” I moan.
Javier stops by the couch. “What about a cool compress for your eyes or an ice pack for your head?”
“Maybe.” I force the words between my numb lips.
It’s been a while since I tried either, and if it brings the migraine into headache territory, then, yes, please.
I must have drifted off to sleep because when I move, the towel over my eyes is warm, and the ice pack on my head feels slushy. I slowly sit up, thankful when the room doesn’t spin. Is Javier still here?
“Oh good, you’re up.”
I grunt. I’m not sure that’s an accurate assessment. Sure, my body is upright, but my brains are scrambled and threatening to slide out of my skull at any moment.
“Feeling any better?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “My head’s still too heavy, but at least it’s a throb and not a pounding anymore.”
“What are the docs doing about the headaches?”
“They prescribed migraine meds and told me they’ll monitor everything.” I pause, then rush forward. “My scans all came back clean.”
“That’s good, right?” Javier asks.
“No, man. I mean, yes, that’s good. But what I’m trying to say is. My. Scans. All. Came. Back. Clean.”
Silence fills the room, and I wait for my teammate’s response.
“Are you saying there was absolutely nothing wrong on the images?”
“Yep.”
“No lesion?”
“Nope.”
Javier whoops. “Sorry, my bad, but, Crank, that’s awesome. Do they think your vision will come back?”
“They have no idea. I want to hope, but the way these migraines have left me debilitated the last couple of days has me hesitating.”
“Hope, man. We’re believing Jesus for a miracle. I’ll pray for you every day. So will Yas and Raimo. I’ll even pray right now.”
I still. “Really?”
“Crank, I’ve been praying for every single person in the Warriors organization since I got drafted.
I have no idea if anyone will come to belief because of my prayers, but I know God hears them.
It’s an honor and a privilege to pray for someone else.
So of course, I’d pray for my teammate and friend. ”
“I appreciate you never giving up on me despite how many times I ignored your comments about God.”
“Hey, I get it. You didn’t have the faith or background to understand how serious I was. Maybe I could’ve better shown you the difference He’s made in my life.”
“Nah. The timing had to happen when it did. If I hadn’t gotten the concussion, lost hockey . . .” I shrug my shoulders. “It had to happen the way it did.” The truth is right before me.
“Good outlook to have.” I hear Javier sit. “Let’s pray.”
I bow my head and listen.
“Lord God, thank You so much for the gift that is Jabari ‘Crank’ Hall. I’ve never been happier to see anyone go to an altar call and devote their life to Jesus. I know the angels rejoiced more boldly and louder than I did.”
His words settle around me, and the same atmosphere change I experienced at his church begins to fill my living room.
“Lord, we come boldly before You to ask for a miracle for Your son, Jabari. We pray that You would restore his sight. That You would remove the migraines and complete any other healing in him that needs to happen. We surrender to Your ultimate will but believe mightily that You can give him this miracle. Please, Lord, if You’re willing, heal Your child. ”
Once more I’m moved to tears by someone’s prayers, but this time I keep them internal.
I’ve never heard a man outside the pulpit pray aloud before, and I’m realizing how much I need this.
Hockey players are beasts on the ice, but right now, Javier is showing me another way to behave.
I can’t believe how much he’s teaching me, but I’m not going to ignore his wisdom simply because he’s younger than me.
“In Jesus’s name, we pray. Amen.”
I open my eyes, and nothing looks changed, but something inside me is. That glimmer of hope I had when my CT images came back clean feels more concrete now.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate you more than I can say.”
“Likewise. Because even if you didn’t believe in God when you first met me, you never ostracized me because of it. I’m glad we’re friends.”
Javier leaves soon after, and I lean back against the couch armrest, stretching out my feet before me. My phone rings, and I let out a sigh when no resounding pain echoes in my head.
“Hello?”
“Jabari, how are you?” Mom asks.
“Fine,” I say cautiously. Something’s different in her voice, but I can’t figure out what. “How are you?”
“Today’s a good day. I got groceries and watched a couple of dating shows. We haven’t talked since last week, so I wanted to check on you.”
When Mom visited last, she made me promise to keep her updated on everything going on with me, even if I thought she couldn’t handle the news.
When I started getting the migraines, I’d told her.
Also told her about the clean CT images and retinal scans.
Not holding back secrets from her has been freeing on the one hand and anxiety-inducing on the other.
“I had an awful headache this morning, but it’s a dull throb now.”
“Mm. I wish I could take them away.”
“I know, Mom, but I wouldn’t want you to feel like this at all.” Who knows what migraines would do to her depression. Nothing good could come from it.
“So . . . I went to church last weekend.”
“Yeah? Me too.”
“I said the salvation prayer,” we say simultaneously.
I laugh. “Want to tell me about it?”
“No way. I want you to tell me how it happened.”
So I do. I explain how I’d been praying as Javier taught me, exploring what it meant to believe, and the changes I noticed in people who lived out that belief. Even though I felt like I’d accepted God before going to church, a complete change hit me after the altar call.
“I love that, son. For me it was a little different. I believed as a child, grew up in the church. But I let an experience within the church keep me from living my faith. I needed to repent, and saying the prayer felt like getting a clean slate.”
“I’m sorry you were hurt.”
“There’s a reason for everything, right?”
That’s what they say. I’m not sure who came up with that expression in the first place, and I certainly never had any harmonious thoughts toward it before. Yet now, I can hear the phrase for what it is and understand the subtleties it’s trying to explain.
“I also saw a therapist.”
Shock fills me. “Why? Is it worse?”
“No, no. Just realized I needed to get some added help.”
A silent breath whooshes out of me. “I’m happy for you.”
“Going back to church showed me I needed to do the things necessary to give me a better life. My doctor’s going to try me on a new medication and start me off on a low dose.”
“Wow.”
“But enough about me. How’s Val?”
I’ll let her change the subject, but this is definitely something I’ll be thanking God for. “Perfect. Every day I’m with her feels like a gift.”
Mom sniffs.
“Are you crying?”
“Happy tears. I may not have stepped foot in a church in decades, may have been angry at God for far too long, but, son, I prayed for a good woman for you often. I know how much having the right partner matters. I didn’t want my story to be your story.”
“God heard you. He just needed you to trust Him with the rest.” Javier taught me that.
We talk until my head starts to feel angry again. I make a promise to Mom that I’ll call her next time. Then I hang up and go find a new ice pack. Maybe I’ll take another nap and see if that helps any.
But when I sink back into the couch once more, my eyes refuse to close.
Instead, I think of what Javier said about timing.
Time often feels like something I control.
When I wake up, when I eat lunch, all of those things are done by my doing, giving me the illusion I control my life.
Yet playing hockey games has shown me how often time races against me.
Today’s the first time I believed time worked for me. God made sure I met the right woman when I was going through a crisis. Val’s understanding and kindness sunk the message Javier had been showing me since he stepped into the Warriors locker room. If that’s not a God thing, I don’t know what is.
Not to mention the concussion really kicked things into gear.
God, thank You for Your perfect timing. Help me to realize time is a gift from You and what You control. Help me to look at things Your way and not the way I’ve been doing for so long. I want to make sure I’m listening to You and not myself.
Been there, done that, and don’t want to go back that way. My life before God was okay. I had a good hockey career and friends. But I don’t want my future to merely be okay. I want that wow factor because I know Who’s got my back.
My life is all Yours. Let’s go!