He paused in his scourging (he could feel warm and comforting trickles running down his bare back; several of the rope knots had begun to turn red) and turned his tearstained face up toward the beamed roof. ‘Because these folks need me, Lord. You know they do, now more than ever. So . . . if it’s Your will that this cup should be removed from my lips . . . please give me a sign.’ He waited. And behold, the Lord God said unto Lester Coggins, ‘I will shew you a sign. Goest thou to thy Bible, even as you did as a child after those nasty dreams of yours.’
