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Mrs. Cooper’s Bible
Mrs. Cooper’s Bible
Mrs. Cooper’s Bible
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Mrs. Cooper’s Bible

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Timmy Watson is a high school senior who has seemingly lost his faith in God and himself when he decides to commit a crime with his unruly buddy, Roger. During an attempted purse snatching from an elderly woman, Roger points a gun at a police officer who unexpectedly appears. Seconds after Timmy leaps between the officer and his friend, both he and Roger are wounded. Although it appears his life has completely unraveled, Timmy has no idea of the miracles about to unfold.

As Timmy faces trial, the judge delays final judgment, challenges him to bring up his grades, and assigns him to volunteer at a hospital rehabilitation center where he soon meets Terri, a fellow student who is paralyzed from an accident. When their friendship blossoms into love, Timmy must battle her mother’s dislike for him and his guilt over not disclosing his past to Terri. But things go from bad to worse when Terri’s mother finds out about the incident and dismisses Timmy. As he navigates through his many regrets, Timmy ultimately renews his faith. But will he trust God to guide him in his effort to repair what has been broken?

Mrs. Cooper’s Bible is the poignant story of a rebellious teen who commits a crime and then must find redemption through a renewed faith in God.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateJul 27, 2021
ISBN9781663218438
Mrs. Cooper’s Bible
Author

J. M. Sampson

J. M. Sampson enjoys creating and telling interesting stories. He resides in Florida with his wife and family. Mrs. Cooper’s Bible is his fourth book.

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    Mrs. Cooper’s Bible - J. M. Sampson

    Copyright © 2021 J. M. Sampson.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.iuniverse.com

    844-349-9409

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-1842-1 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6632-1843-8 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2021915046

    iUniverse rev. date: 07/26/2021

    CONTENTS

    Acknowledgments

    Prologue

    Chapter 1 Something Dumb

    Chapter 2 Humility

    Chapter 3 Judgment Day

    Chapter 4 Physical Endeavor

    Chapter 5 Change Of Plan

    Chapter 6 Bend The Rules

    Chapter 7 A Bridge To Cross

    Chapter 8 Take Note

    Chapter 9 A Bridge Too Far

    Chapter 10 A New Beginning

    Chapter 11 Poor In Spirit

    Chapter 12 The Notebook

    Chapter 13 Revelation And Redemption

    Chapter 14 In His Hands

    Chapter 15 Away In A Manger

    Chapter 16 A Time For Everything

    Chapter 17 His Mercy Is Great

    Epilogue

    In loving memory of my parents:

    Joseph M. Sampson Sr., April 27, 1925–July 3, 2020

    Marianne Ryder Sampson, April 28, 1929–August 9, 2020

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Carrie Cooper, thank you for improving my manuscript with your valuable suggestions and insight.

    Rose E. Grier Evans, thank you for artfully using your skill in producing the cover art for my books.

    Teresa Sampson, your timely observations while I was developing the story were invaluable.

    PROLOGUE

    Until you have paid the last penny.

    —Mathew 5:26

    Levi Henry waited at the front of the church as he watched the police cruiser pull up and park.

    I got your message, Pastor Henry. Where was the church damaged?

    Hello, Randy. I appreciate your quick response.

    Pastor, when someone reports vandalism at my church, I’m very serious about catching the person who did it. The officer walked beside Levi to the front door of the church. Shattered glass littered the foyer. A brick lay among the shards. I don’t understand how anyone can be so callous as to attack a place of worship. Randy sighed. Was the perpetrator caught on the security cameras?

    Yes, Officer, he is clearly identifiable, but I know who the young brick thrower is. He was here with a couple of older boys. I pulled up to the church as Billy threw the brick. The older boys seemed to be egging him on.

    Officer Ellison furrowed his brow in a frown. You know the boy who did this?

    Yes. His name is Billy Whitcom.

    The officer looked up from the report on the clipboard he was making notes on. Whitcom? Is he related to Anette Whitcom, one of our church members?

    Billy’s her son. He attended church and youth groups here at our church up until two years ago. His father and mother divorced, and she’s raising him.

    Tell me where they live and I’ll go talk to the mother. I will get DCF involved.

    Pastor Henry frowned. I talked to the preacher, and he consulted with the leadership. We want to handle this in-house.

    Officer Ellison cocked his head to the side and raised his brow as he asked, Why did you call me?

    I need to minister to this young man, but he has been unwilling to come to church. I thought if you go to the boy’s home and talk to him and his mother, we can come to an agreement concerning reparations for the damage.

    What kind of reparations do you have in mind, Pastor?

    Since school is out for the summer, I thought it would make sense to have Billy do some work around the church every day. He would have to agree to sit with me in counseling at least two hours each day as well. I believe two weeks would be sufficient.

    I don’t know, Levi. Do you think you can make a difference in his life in only two weeks? That door is going to cost several months of any allowance he may be earning.

    Randy, it’s not about the money. It’s about his life and salvation.

    As they were talking, the glass-repair truck pulled up to the church. Levi motioned to the workers inside that the front door was the problem. He greeted the service technician as the man went to the door and began taking measurements.

    Levi turned back to the officer. What do you think, Randy? I believe it’s worth a shot. He handed a piece of paper to Randy. This letter lists the terms we have been discussing. If Anette and her son Billy agree to the terms, there is a place for them both to sign. If they agree, Billy needs to meet me here at the church at eight in the morning.

    Randy looked over the document. It seems more than fair to me. I’ll go and talk with them. I’ll call to let you know their answer. By the way, I will inform them of the alternative. Juvenile court and DCF looms on the horizon. Randy shook hands with Levi and turned on his heel as he hurried toward his cruiser.

    The next morning found Levi standing at the repaired front door of the church. He watched a blue Civic pull up in the parking lot. The passenger door opened, and Billy Whitcom climbed out. Anette got out of the driver’s side and walked beside her son as they approached the church. Levi could see they were arguing. They fell into silence as they neared the pastor.

    Anette had tears streaking her cheeks as she humbly said, I am so sorry, Pastor Henry. I don’t know what to do with Billy. I’ve tried to raise him to be a decent human being, but I’ve failed.

    Billy mumbled under his breath and had a defiant look in his eyes as Levi glanced his way.

    Levi took Anette’s hand in his and gently said, We understand, Mrs. Whitcom. Life doesn’t always flow smoothly in the direction we want. I know you love Billy, and I know the Lord loves you both.

    Billy grunted. Hah! Believe that?

    Anette grabbed Billy’s arm. If you can’t do right things in life, at least be respectful to the Lord.

    Billy snatched his arm from her grasp. I’ll do what I have to concerning the damage to the window. But I don’t have to like it. And I don’t have to like the church.

    Anette looked helplessly to Levi. The pastor smiled and said, We have work to do. Come back at five to pick him up.

    Anette nodded her head and returned to her car.

    Billy smirked and said, You’re the youth pastor here, ain’t ya?

    Yes, I am, Billy. I’ve been hoping you would come back to church and attend our youth groups.

    Fat chance of that, Preacher. I’m not including church in my future.

    They entered the main sanctuary as they continued talking. Levi gazed earnestly at Billy, the two of them looking at each other eye to eye. So, you do have a future ahead of you?

    Well, yeah, I do. I’m going to see the world and do whatever I please.

    Does that include vandalizing churches, Billy? I don’t see much future in that.

    Duh! I only did this for fun. I’ll do serious things in the future.

    Levi sighed. Behold your immediate future. He waved an arm in a sweeping arc toward the sanctuary. Your task is to vacuum the carpet. All the carpet. Under the pews, between the pews, and in all the aisles. Levi rested his hand on a vacuum cleaner sitting at the end of the back pew.

    Billy looked at the large area and eyed the vacuum cleaner. You’ve got to be kidding. Vacuuming the whole church is a lot of work.

    Levi smiled. Billy, you are not cleaning the church. You are cleaning the church building.

    Billy looked at Levi with a puzzled look on his face. Ain’t they one and the same?

    Billy, you damaged a building. You didn’t damage the church. The church is the people, the members of the body of Christ.

    Billy threw his hands in the air. Sounds like double talk to me. Let me get started. It’s going to take awhile.

    Levi smiled as he asked, You know where my office is?

    Billy nodded. I guess it’s where the other youth pastor hung out.

    Come to my office when you’re finished here. Levi turned to walk away.

    You’re not going to watch to make sure I don’t goof off?

    Levi raised a hand and waved as he continued to walk away.

    Billy switched on the vacuum and began sweeping. He shook his head as he thought about the counseling session. I won’t let them brainwash me!

    It was noon when Billy finally came to stand outside Levi’s office. The door was open. He saw a woman seated in a chair at the side of the pastor’s desk. Levi was seated at his desk and beckoned Billy to enter.

    Billy, this is my wife, Lacey. She, too, is a youth pastor here at Pine Woods Christian. Have a seat. Levi indicated the chair on the other side of the desk.

    As Billy took his seat, he noticed a paper plate with a sandwich and chips sitting in front of him. A glass of iced tea sat beside it.

    Lacey fixed a lunch for us to enjoy while we talk.

    That was very nice of you, Mrs. Henry. I did work up an appetite doing all that vacuuming. Billy started to reach for the sandwich.

    Levi interrupted him. Let’s ask blessing on the food.

    Billy pulled his hand back and waited patiently as Lacey asked the blessing. Then he picked up the sandwich and began eating. He noticed a thick three-ring binder sitting on the desk next to the pastor. That’s a lot of paper in that binder. Is that your sermon notes or something?

    Levi smiled as he pushed his plate to one side and shifted the binder to sit in front of him. No, Billy. This is a manuscript for a book. It was written by a man who was very much like you when he was your age.

    Nah, man! What did he write about?

    He wrote about a few short weeks of his young life. He committed a crime and faced serious consequences for his actions.

    You think he was like me?

    Very much so. I was thinking we could do something different. I know you don’t like being counseled. What would you say to my reading this manuscript to you instead?

    Billy rubbed his chin as he actually considered his choices. It’s been a long time since my mom read storybooks to me. I guess I can tolerate one more bedtime story.

    Billy, this is a true story. The author tells his story so that it will help others to see the miracles God worked in his life.

    Billy shook his head. Everyone talks about miracles. That talk comes cheap. What kind a miracles in that book could possibly interest me?

    Levi smiled. I’ve already heard this story from the man himself. I will only tell you that he was shot.

    Well, okay. When do we start?

    Levi opened the binder. Right now. I know you will have questions and comments, but try to wait until we have finished the manuscript to raise those issues. It will probably take several sessions. Levi read, "Mrs. Cooper’s Bible, chapter one: ‘Something Dumb.’"

    40131.png

    CHAPTER 1

    SOMETHING DUMB

    Timmy Watson went to the kitchen after he had gotten dressed for school. He went to his place at the table and sat in silence. Shirley set his breakfast in front of him and sat down, holding her cup of coffee. She sipped from the cup as she watched him eat.

    Timmy, one of your teachers called me at work yesterday. She said your grades are plummeting. Don’t you care about your future?

    Mom, I’ve got everything under control. I’m fine.

    You are far from fine. You are scheduled to graduate this year. You have to bring your grades up. I believe Roger has been a bad influence on you.

    Mom, stay out of my personal life. Roger is my bud. I influence my own life.

    Shirley felt frustration rising in her chest. Timmy, you’re an intelligent young man. You made perfect grades before—

    Yeah, I know, before Dad left. You’ve told me that a hundred times. That has nothing to do with my grades.

    Shirley threw her hands up and looked to her mother, Matilda.

    Matilda shrugged. I’ve tried talking to him many times. He used to come to me with his troubles, but he no longer listens to me. I guess he’s outgrown his grandmother.

    Timmy glared at Matilda. I just don’t need to talk about anything. I don’t have any problems.

    Shirley rose from her seat and leaned with her hands against the table. Timmy, can’t you see the destructive path you’re taking? You’re ruining your life. And I don’t know how to reach you.

    Timmy stood and turned to leave. I need to go now. Roger is dropping me off at school. See you later.

    Shirley slowly settled into her chair and cradled her face in her hands, her elbows resting on the table. I have no idea what to do, Mother. My son is lost to me.

    Matilda rose from her seat and moved next to Shirley. She reached out and squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. All we can do is what I’ve already been doing. We must pray that the Lord will get his attention.

    Shirley regained her feet and embraced her mother.

    Timmy’s school day went by slowly. Before Roger had been expelled from school, the two boys would hang out together, which made time seem to pass by more quickly. Before Timmy could walk out of his last class of the day, his teacher asked him to stay for a moment.

    Timmy, I’m really concerned about your lack of interest in studying. Is there anything I can do differently to make the lessons more interesting for you? Perhaps you need more of a challenge. You’re a bright young man. I know you can make better grades.

    I really don’t care, Mrs. Keen. I’m just ready to get out of school. I need to go now.

    Mrs. Keen shook her head in frustration as she watched him leave the room.

    Timmy sighed as he walked through the gateway of his high school. He knew his friend was waiting just a couple of blocks from the school with his old Pontiac. Timmy breathed in a deep draft of the chilly air as he thought about his plans for the next few hours. Of all the crazy ideas Roger had come up with, Timmy usually talked him out of going through with them. This time Timmy had agreed to go along even though he knew deep down that it was a bad idea. Oh well, he thought. No matter what, right or wrong, my path is set. It’s too late to turn back. This life is so screwed up, what does it matter?

    The late November sky was overcast with dark clouds, and the traffic traveling a few feet from Timmy’s path on the sidewalk seemed quieter than usual, almost muffled. The boy wondered if his growing dread was an omen. He raised his right hand to his forehead to sweep his sandy blond hair back and away from his blue eyes.

    He heard Roger shout, Hey! I’m parked over here. You got your head in the clouds?

    Timmy frowned. I was just thinking about our plan. He glanced at his friend’s face, which was framed by a shaggy mop of black hair. Maybe we should forget the whole thing.

    Roger clapped a hand on Timmy’s shoulder. Stop worrying. It’ll be a piece of cake.

    Still frowning, Timmy answered, Maybe, but I have a feeling we’ll find it hard to swallow.

    The two climbed into the Pontiac. Roger coaxed the rattling engine into a sputtering roar. Pulling out into the road, he pressed down on the car’s accelerator, rising to a speed matching that of the other traffic.

    Timmy sat in silence as he thought about the events that had led him to this defining juncture in his life. It all began when his father had left his mother three years ago, when he was fourteen. I know Dad left because of me. I should have been a better son. Timmy was shaken from his thoughts as Roger pulled onto a side road and then drove the car in among a stand of trees and shut off the engine.

    The store is about fifty yards away through the trees, Tim.

    Timmy got out of the car as Roger opened the glove box and removed something wrapped in a rag. Roger handed the object to him. Take this, just in case.

    Timmy peeled back the rag, revealing a revolver. Are you nuts? I won’t carry a gun. I don’t want to hurt anyone. And the penalty of law is a lot worse if you use a gun.

    Roger frowned. It’s your choice. But you’ll have no defense if a cop confronts you. He put the gun in the waistband of his own trousers.

    Look! I said no gun. That goes for you too. Your job is to stay hidden and ready to drive when I return.

    Sure thing, Tim. I got your back.

    The two made their way to the edge of the wooded area and looked out across a broad parking lot. With just a few days until Thanksgiving, the parking lot was packed and shoppers were everywhere. The foreboding sky had gotten a lot darker as distant lighting made occasional flashes across the eastern horizon. Timmy scanned the parking lot and noticed an older woman pushing a shopping cart toward the nearest row of parked cars. Her purse was resting in the basket next to the cart handle.

    Timmy glanced at Roger as he stepped away from concealment. I see my mark. Be ready for a quick escape. He walked briskly toward the woman, glancing left and right for others who might be nearby. He was in luck as he noticed there was no one near enough to interfere. He covered the last stretch in a sudden burst of speed as he reached his goal and grabbed the purse. The woman screamed as he realized the handle of the purse was around her arm. A shout alerted him that someone was rushing to her aid as he hurriedly yanked on the purse and turned to run at the same instant.

    He did not look back until he heard a voice that was much closer than he anticipated. Stop! Police! I have my revolver trained on you. Don’t make me fire.

    Timmy stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face the officer. Beyond the officer, he saw the old woman lying on the ground by her buggy with someone kneeling beside her. Timmy focused on the cop who was approaching. The dark-haired man in blue wore a frown etched upon his square-jawed face. Timmy, for a brief instant, thought there was something familiar about the man. He noticed the cop had not drawn his service revolver as he had said when he ordered him to stop.

    The cop said loudly, Raise your hands over your head. Timmy saw the cop look past him and simultaneously start to draw his gun.

    Timmy turned and saw Roger pointing his gun at the cop. He yelled, No! as he leaped to place himself between Roger and the cop. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as Timmy saw a flash and simultaneously felt the impact as the report of the fired weapon reached his ears. As he hit the ground, he heard the police weapon bark out an answer to the shot fired by Roger. Tim’s last view was of Roger crumpling to the ground.

    Darkness gave way grudgingly to a glimmer of light. Sharp pain accompanied Tim’s return to consciousness. His head throbbed with every heartbeat. He was aware a woman was next to him, talking to someone beyond his field of view.

    All of the vitals are now complete and transmitted. Trauma to left cranial area, two inches above the ear. Minor contusion. Stitches should not be necessary.

    Tim blinked his eyes, trying to bring his surroundings into focus. What happened? Where am I?

    The woman’s gaze moved to look him in the eye. I’m a paramedic. My name is Skylar. You’re in an ambulance en route to a hospital. She paused as she daubed at his head with gauze. What’s your name?

    Timmy Watson.

    The paramedic gently laid a hand on his chin and moved a small flashlight past his eyes, intently watching closely for pupil response. You don’t appear to have a concussion. We’re pulling in to the emergency driveway. She pulled a notepad from her pocket. Can you tell me your parents’ names and phone number?

    Timmy nodded and reluctantly gave her the information. He sadly thought about the consequences of his crime. Mom will give me another lecture. Sadly, she was right this morning when she tried to talk to me. I’m more of a burden than ever for my mom and grandmother. Why can’t I do the right things anymore? This will crush the only people who care about me. It would have been better if I had died. With the thought of death, he suddenly remembered Roger. What happened to my friend? Did he die?

    The paramedic rose from the jump seat. I don’t know about the other injured people. You were my responsibility. Other units responded to the others. She moved to open the rear doors, revealing two men in scrubs standing at the back of the ambulance.

    The paramedic’s words reminded Tim of the old woman he had injured. This gets worse and worse. I hope she will be okay. I deserved to get shot.

    Skylar exited the ambulance and released the gurney, rolling Tim out into the open. Timmy saw another paramedic, apparently the driver, come around from the front of the ambulance to assist his partner in the task of wheeling him into the hospital. The two men in scrubs walked alongside. Tim noticed the cop was accompanying him, walking beside the gurney. Timmy raised a hand toward the cop. Sir, can you tell me what happened to my friend Roger?

    The cop grimaced a moment then answered, He is wounded, and I hope he will recover. The cop moved his left hand to rub his jawline, as if considering his words carefully. He sighed. What has happened to you, Timmy?

    Timmy looked more closely at the cop’s face as they continued into a room. Do I know you?

    The cop’s face seemed strained. You did know me at one time. We attended Pine Woods Christian Church. I’m Robert Scott. My wife and I used to sit next to your grandmother in church.

    Timmy couldn’t speak as his mind raced ahead. This gets worse by the moment. Hopefully there’s no one else I’ve let down because of my stupidity. Two orderlies helped him move from the gurney to the emergency room bed.

    Officer Scott seemed to be studying Timmy’s face for a reaction as he continued. Oh, and the little woman you assaulted, her name is Barbara Cooper. The officer sighed again. She was the cheerful lady who always greeted people at the door of the church. She’s a good friend to your grandmother.

    A nurse came into the room, removed the gauze dressing from Timmy’s head, and began to ask him questions about allergies and other medical questions. As she left the room, she said, The doctor will be in momentarily.

    Timmy felt like crying. He sighed deeply. Officer Scott, can you go ahead and take me to prison? I don’t want to see the disappointment on my mother’s face. I don’t think I can take it.

    Robert looked toward the door. It appears you’re too late for that. Hello, Shirley. It’s sad to see you again under these circumstances.

    Timmy looked toward the doorway, where his dark-haired mother now lingered. Her brown eyes were damp with tears. Guilt crushed his heart as he watched his mother’s petite frame quiver with subdued sobs. His world was crashing down around the ones he loved. I drove my father away, and now I have hurt my mother. How many victims have I thoughtlessly created? I wish I were dead.

    Robert moved around the bed and went to the devastated woman. He gently embraced her for a moment in a comforting hug. I’ll be just outside while you talk to your son. Is Matilda here?

    Shirley, wiping tears from her eyes with a tissue she had been carrying, nodded. My mother is in the waiting room. Will you check on her?

    Officer Robert Scott nodded as he gently touched her shoulder in sympathy, then left the room.

    Shirley looked at her son without saying a word for what seemed like a long time. She finally spoke, haltingly at first. I have loved you from before you were born. I felt your little body moving within me. I was so happy that God had blessed me with a child. Some people think a fetus is not alive, not human. A mother knows the truth to be just the opposite. You were alive and a blessing from God. Yes, I have loved you. She sighed as she moved to the bedside and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. I love you, and I’ve failed you.

    Timmy began, Mother—

    Don’t say anything. I have failed you, but God is still here. He can make a difference if you let Him.

    Timmy began to choke back tears. Mother, I don’t think God wants anything to do with me. When I caused Dad to leave us—

    Shirley interrupted, asking, What do you mean? You didn’t cause your father to leave. Have you been blaming yourself all these years? Shirley grasped his left hand with her smaller right hand. You were a perfect son to your father and to me. Perhaps it’s my fault because—she hung her head—he left me for another woman.

    Timmy managed to sit up and hug his mother. You never told me. He kissed her cheek. You didn’t do anything to drive him away. I remember how much you loved him.

    Shirley straightened as Timmy released her from the hug. It seems we’ve both been carrying a burden we did not deserve to shoulder.

    The doctor came into the room. "Let’s have a look at your head

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