Page 6 of In This Moment
Wendell looked around the auditorium. Maybe it was his imagination or his strong belief that this was what the kids needed, but suddenly the room seemed quieter. For the most part, the students were listening. At least Wendell thought so. His voice grew steady again. “If you—each of you—want to win... if you want a different life than what you just saw on the screen, show up at Room 422 at four-thirty today, after practices and clubs let out.”
He looked around the room again. “If you don’t play a sport, if you’re not in a club, you can choose to stick around and do your homework. Then come to the meeting.” He paused. “What do you have to lose?”
He explained how the Raise the Bar program would never conflict with tutoring, since it was on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “We’ll have free snacks for anyone who comes.” Wendell noticed several kids raise their eyebrows. Free food was something for these students. A few whispered amongst themselves.
Wendell took a step closer to the edge of the stage. He wasn’t finished. There was something he had to say before he could end the assembly. “Hear me loud and clear about one thing.” He made eye contact with every section of students. “The Raise the Bar program is voluntary. No one is insisting you attend, and you will have no repercussions if you do not attend. This is merely an option. Raise the Bar... or not.”
When the assembly was over, Alicia found him and gave him a quick hug. “That was perfect.” His words seemed to have emboldened her some. After Alicia moved on, other teachers approached him.
One of the math teachers leaned close. “Mr. Quinn, I’m concerned.” He whispered his words—as if the political correctness police might be lurking nearby. “What you’re doing is illegal.” He allowed a quick smile. “But I say more power to you. Nothing else is working.”
Five teachers approached to tell him he was tempting criminal charges. “You’re not considering the rights of atheists in this room.” His lead science teacher was furious. “No one has any right to mention God in a student assembly.”
“I’m only giving students an option.” Wendell was ready for this. “You want to start an Atheist Club, by all means do so. Get a proposal to me.”
Lonnie Phillips, his vice principal, was one of the last to pull him aside. “You could get us all on the front page with this one.” She raised her brow. “Truth is, I like the idea. But let’s be honest, Wendell. I’ll be surprised if one student shows up.”
For the rest of the morning, Wendell worked in his office and tried to wish away the hours. Other teachers came in to share their concerns or enthusiasm for the program. Everyone was talking, for sure.
At lunchtime he walked through the cafeteria, making himself available for the students. One after another they came to him. “Mr. Quinn, does God really care if I read the Bible?” And the few angry students. “You can’t talk about God in school. You know that, Mr. Quinn.” Or “What are we reading in the Bible first?” And “Mr. Quinn, thank you for this morning. I’ll be there.” Or even the occasional “I don’t believe in God, but I’ll be there. You got a lot to prove, Mr. Quinn.”
Positive or negative, Wendell listened. This was his first hint that maybe—just maybe—students really had truly paid attention earlier.
Finally it was four-thirty. Wendell got caught in a meeting with a parent, explaining that her son had been arrested the day before school started. By the time Wendell carried his Bible into Room 422, he was six minutes late. He rounded the corner and saw students gathered in the hallway near the door.
What’s this?Wendell hesitated, then picked up his pace. Were students protesting already? He eased his way through the crowd. Inside the classroom every desk was taken. Students lined the room, two and three deep. Among them was his son Jordy.
Chick-fil-A had provided sandwiches for the meeting, but clearly they hadn’t brought enough. The group standing outside the door was not protesting. They were trying to be included.
Tears stung Wendell’s eyes. He took the spot at the front of the room and struggled to find his voice. When he could speak, he prayed out loud. “Look what You’ve done, Lord. You brought these students here. Now... please, speak to them. That this might be the first day of the rest of their lives. Good, beautiful, productive lives lived out for You.”
A boy sitting up front took attendance as they got started. Fifty-eight students filled the room. Wendell couldn’t believe it. This had to be Jordy’s doing. His son smiled big in his direction.Deep breath, Wendell told himself.
He took his worn Bible and opened it. He loved this old book. The notes in the margin, the highlighted areas. The thin worn pages. His kids wanted him to get a Bible app for his phone. Wendell wouldn’t hear of it. He pulled out his notes. No place to start like the beginning. He steadied his voice. First... “God is real. And God created the world. He created all that you see and He created you.”
At the back of the room, Alicia slipped in and leaned against the wall. She stayed only ten minutes. Whatever was going through her head and her heart, Wendell would have to deal with it later. This was for the kids.
When the meeting was finished, an enthusiasm and energy filled the room. A dozen students approached him with questions about salvation and sin and forgiveness and redemption. Wendell could hardly believe it. He had expected maybe a dozen students and at least one who would challenge him. But none of that happened. It had to be the Lord at work. How else could he explain it?
With God at the center of this, nothing could stop it.
After the last students left the classroom, Wendell returned to his office. Jordy had already promised to make dinner for his siblings, so Wendell could take his time getting home.
Basking in the light of all that had happened today, Wendell closed his office door. Once more he took the old football off the shelf and read Les’s words.
In this moment.
Yet if the media got wind of what he was doing... if the school district found out and ordered him to stop, then Wendell could be forced into silence. But he had a plan for that, too. He had already looked into his options, already Googled who could help him if things fell apart.
There was a lawyer in Indianapolis who had won several religious freedom cases in the last few years. Given the very real possibility he would need to call the man, Wendell had researched the guy. A Christian with a kind but outspoken faith in God. The man was a successful litigator. Someone you’d want on your side. Wendell had memorized his name.
The lawyer was Luke Baxter.
•••
ASHLEY BAXTER BLAKEtook the call ten minutes before the kids would get home from school. They’d been back for a week now. The routine was familiar again.
As soon as Ashley answered the phone, she knew something was wrong. It was her sister-in-law Reagan. She was crying. “Ashley... I’m so sorry. I had to call.”
