by Lori Wick
“Is there a time that stands out in your mind as to when you accepted Jesus Christ?” Cleve asked the woman beside him.
“Yes, there is, a very definite time. It was after I came to live with Aunt Joanne and Uncle Jasper. Suddenly one night I was very afraid that I would die. My parents were sure of their eternity, but I wasn’t and I wanted to be. Uncle Jasper talked with me for a long time. I found out later that Aunt Jo was praying her heart out in the next room.
“It was that night that I knew I needed a Savior, and I turned to Jesus Christ.”
“I don’t have anything like that to look back on,” Cleve admitted quietly.
“It doesn’t happen the same for everyone, Cleve.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but that’s not what I mean.”
He was quiet for a moment, and Bobbie wanted to ask him what he did mean, but she stayed silent and prayerful.
“I’ve just always gone to church,” Cleve began. “I’ve spent time with the people who attended church and I’ve tried to read my Bible and pray, but I’m not sure I’ve ever made that step. I’m not sure that if I died right now, I would spend eternity with God.”
“You can be sure, Cleve. Right now, even.”
Cleve turned his head to look at her. “I think you’re right, Robbie, but after all this time, thinking everything was fine, it feels awkward to try and talk to God about this.”
“He’s the only One you can talk to, Cleve. God alone can give you a peace about your eternity. If you’re not sure, then be sure right now. Don’t let pride stand in the way. Tell God you know you’re a sinner, and that you believe His only Son died for those sins.”
Cleve was again silent for a moment. “I think I’m going to go up to the bedroom now, Robbie. Troy isn’t back yet and I need some time alone.”
Bobbie watched him stand, her heart aching. “I’ll be praying for you, Cleve.”
“Thank you.”
The moonlight allowed Bobbie to watch him walk to the house, and as soon as the door closed she prayed as she told Cleve she would.
‘I never dreamed, Lord, that he might not know You. Please show him, Father. He’s searching. Please let his search end in You.’
thirty-one
Jeff ran his hand over his jaw and leaned closer to the mirror. He didn’t have a heavy beard, but he did have to shave every day, and as usual he missed a spot on his chin. A moment later he wiped the remaining lather from his face and went upstairs to dress for church.
He was buttoning his shirt when he thought of Sylvia again. During his quiet time that morning, when he had read his Bible, she kept coming to mind.
After Jeff was injured he had missed three Sundays in a row. When he finally returned he noticed that Sylvia was not there. He looked for her the next week, and when he didn’t see her he went to the Boggs’.
Sandra told him that Sylvia had gone to Ukiah to visit an elderly aunt. She didn’t know how long she would be away, but when Sandra wrote, she told Jeff, she would mention his visit.
That had been weeks ago. Jeff hadn’t given much thought to Sylvia until this morning. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head that she might be hurting in some way, so he prayed very specifically for her.
With all of this in mind Jeff was not at all surprised to see Sylvia in church. She was quite a way away from him, but even from a distance he could she was very thin. He determined to talk to her immediately after the service, but when Pastor Keller dismissed the congregation she was nowhere to be seen.
Jeff decided to go and see her right away, but then he remembered that the Bradfords and Cleve Ramsey were coming to lunch. He would have to wait to see Sylvia.
“Of course the Taylors won’t mind, Cleve,” Bobbie told the man standing before her. “And I don’t mind waiting for you.”
“No, Robbie, you don’t need to. Just tell me how to get to the Taylors’ and I’ll walk over when I’m done.”
“Hi,” Jeff said as he approached, not realizing until he was on top of the debating couple that his timing was lousy.
“Hi, Jeff,” Bobbie said quietly.
“Hello, Jeff,” Cleve greeted him in relief. “I was wondering, Jeff, if your family would be upset with me if I stayed for awhile and talked with Pastor Keller. I don’t want to be rude, but if you could just give me directions to your place, then I’ll walk over as soon as I’m done.”
“That’s fine, Cleve,” Jeff said, instantly sizing up the situation from the distraught looks of the people before him. “In fact, we have enough transportation to leave you a wagon.” Jeff went on to explain how to get to the farm, and then Cleve said goodbye and headed back into the church. Bobbie would have followed, but Jeff caught her hand.
“I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here, Bobbie, but if he doesn’t want you to stay, you need to respect that.”
“I know, it’s just that—” Bobbie hesitated.
“Just what?” Jeff wanted to know, but Bobbie couldn’t explain; she was too upset.
“Come on,” Jeff said as he took her arm. He decided, for the moment, not to push her. “Let’s find my dad and tell him Cleve needs a wagon.”
Bobbie accompanied him reluctantly. She knew she shouldn’t follow Cleve, but she felt so responsible for the devastated look on his face that she didn’t want to leave him alone.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Jeff’s voice came through to Bobbie where they stood by the wagon waiting for their folks. She looked ready to cry, and Jeff thought he might be able to help if he knew the situation.
“Oh Jeff!” Tears filled Bobbie’s eyes and she felt like all she did lately was bawl. “Cleve told me last night that he’s not sure he’s saved, and when Pastor Keller talked about Lazarus and the rich man this morning in Luke 16, well, I could just see that he was really shaken.”
Jeff’s face clouded with concern, and he put his hands on Bobbie’s shoulders. “Don’t you see what a good sign this is, Bobbie? You know how gentle Pastor Keller is. He’ll know how to answer Cleve, and we’ll pray until we see Cleve that he’ll know before he leaves the church where he’ll spend eternity.”
“Thanks, Jeff.” Bobbie’s throat was again clogged with tears. Jeff gave her a hug just before they were joined by Jake Bradford, allowing Jeff to explain the situation about Cleve.
“I’ve kept you from your dinner.”
Pastor Keller grinned at the young man across from him. “I find I’m not the least bit hungry, Cleve.”
Cleve returned the smile. He wasn’t buoyant and he wasn’t upset; he had peace, for the first time he could ever recall. He had fallen asleep the night before without really facing what Bobbie had said, only to be confronted head-on by Pastor Keller’s sermon the next morning.
Pastor and Cleve talked for another 20 minutes and Cleve left with some key passages of Scripture to study in the days to come. He was partway to the Taylors’ when he stopped the wagon and opened his Bible once again to John 3:16.
It had been there all the time; he could even recite it by memory. But not until this morning, when he looked into the kind eyes of Bobbie’s pastor and heard him say the verse, did he really understand that it applied to him.
Sitting on the road with his foot on the horse’s reins, Cleve read aloud: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Cleve held the Bible against his chest. This verse was for him. He wanted everlasting life, and all he had needed to do was believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.
It had been rather simple, really. Pastor Keller had said a short prayer, something about confessing your sins to God and acknowledging that you needed His Son as Savior. Cleve had repeated the words after him, words that were from his heart.
“I always tell people,” Pastor had said, “that if they really meant what they prayed, then they are now a child of God, but I don’t think I need to say that to you, Cleve. There’s some
thing in your eyes that tells me this is genuine.”
“I don’t feel much different,” the younger man had confided.
“Some people don’t, but I assure you it’s real. The Bible says to believe, and you do. Since the Bible is the Word of God, then that’s all the assurance we need.”
Bobbie had been watching out the window for Cleve almost from the time she had arrived at the Taylors’. She had declined dinner, telling her hostess that she would eat with Cleve when he came. So when he finally pulled into the yard Bobbie was there to meet him.
“Are you all right?” was her first question after Cleve’s feet hit the ground.
“I’m fine, Robbie,” Cleve told her calmly. “I’m better than I’ve ever been in my life.”
Bobbie looked at him for a moment. “You’re sure now, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he said with quiet conviction, “quite sure.”
The couple embraced, and when Bobbie stepped back she saw tears in Cleve’s eyes. It had been such a painful time, one of uncertainty and hard decisions. But she would do it all over again, she told herself, if only to see Cleve Ramsey’s face when he said, “Yes, I’m sure, quite sure.”
thirty-two
Sylvia Weber was in a state of mourning. No one in the family had died, but her grief was just as great as if someone had.
After Sylvia had left Jeff at the Bradfords’ those weeks ago, she had gone back to her sister’s house, repeatedly telling herself she was going to control her temper for good this time. It was evident that for years all her thoughts had been of herself. What was further evident was that it had to stop.
As Sylvia rode home that day, her prayers were altered for the first time. Instead of mindlessly naming everything she wanted to, she asked God to help her change. She was certain that everything was going to be completely under control from then on, but Sandra met her at the door with a letter.
“I’ve heard from Aunt Velvet. Her letter says you’re welcome to stay with her.”
“Aunt Velvet?” Sylvia had asked in genuine confusion.
“That’s right. I wrote to her and asked if you could come and see her for a few months. It’s either that or back home to Mom and Dad. Carl and I need a break.”
Sylvia’s lovely ideals about her temper evaporated, and she exploded at her sister. Even though Sandra looked guilty, she remained steadfast.
Sylvia had cried, even pleaded, but her older sister said it was time. Sylvia had left, but not in good humor. In fact she had vowed never to speak to her sister again, and Carl and Sandra were met with a stony silence right up to the time Sylvia boarded the stage.
Sandra, terribly guilt-ridden, had written to her the very day she left and every few days in the coming weeks. Sylvia, however, didn’t reply. Worried that something had happened to her spoiled sister, Sandra finally received a letter from Sylvia almost a month after her departure.
She had said little, but Sandra began to sense a change in her. What Sandra didn’t know was that Sylvia had met an older version of herself: Aunt Velvet. It was enough to send Sylvia into a near state of shock.
Sylvia had never met her Aunt Velvet, and never really believed all the stories she had heard about her. But they were all too true. The older woman had never married, although she must have been a beauty in her day, and Sylvia quickly found out why: There was no living with her. Not a minute passed when she didn’t insist on having something her own way.
If it wasn’t a fit about Sylvia not taking the teacup with the chip in it, it was the silent treatment because her niece had dared to disagree with her over some trivial matter.
Aunt Velvet had little money, but she tried to live like a queen. She owed people all over town, and Sylvia was mortified when the shopkeepers in town would look at her lovely clothes and pull out an invoice from behind the counter. “Can you pay your aunt’s bill?”
Sylvia heard the words so many times that she dreamt about them. In short, her aunt was held in contempt by the community, and to be associated with her was far and away the most humiliating thing Sylvia had ever experienced.
That Sylvia was headed in the same direction occurred to her one morning before her aunt arose. Standing in the living room of Velvet’s ramshackle house, Sylvia looked at the possessions of a woman who never cared about anyone but herself.
On every wall there was a mirror, sometimes two. Keepsakes from days gone by lined the shelves, little mementos that Aunt Velvet must have received from the men who had courted and tried to woo her.
Tears streamed down Sylvia’s face when she thought of her bedroom at Sandra’s home. On the dresser was a dried-up flower that Jeff had given her months ago, and beside it was a torn page that had fallen from his Bible one day in church. Sylvia had taken it without telling him for a keepsake, and now felt ashamed.
That day Sylvia wrote and asked Sandra if she could come back. Sandra had not immediately acquiesced, and Sylvia had been miserable. Sylvia asked in every letter to Sandra when she could return. Finally a letter arrived telling Sylvia she would be welcome. She had packed her things and left that very day.
Sylvia still had Sandra’s letter that told of Jeff’s visit, but she didn’t hold out any hope for the future. Her return to Santa Rosa was not to see Jeff, although she would love to talk with him. No, her return to Santa Rosa was to put some space between her and Aunt Velvet so she could mourn in private—mourn for the 20-plus years spent living for herself and accomplishing nothing for God and in reality nothing for herself.
Sylvia stayed away from church the first Sunday back, feeling that she still needed some time to think. On the Sunday she did attend, it caused her almost a physical pain to see Jeff talking so easily with Bobbie Bradford, but it didn’t make her angry.
Several people came right out and asked Sylvia if she had been ill, making her uncomfortably aware of how thin she had become. Her pride came to the fore over this matter, and she didn’t stay after church because she didn’t want Jeff to see her.
Surprisingly enough, though, she was not at all upset when Jeff came to the house that night. In fact, she was so glad to see him she had to swallow hard against the lump in her throat.
“Hello, Jeff.”
“Hello, yourself. Welcome back.”
“Thanks.”
Sylvia motioned him to a seat in the living room and sat across from him.
“I was all ready to ask how you were doing, but I think I can see you’re okay.” The words were said kindly, and Sylvia realized Jeff was looking at her eyes, and not the way her dress hung on her frame.
“I am doing okay. How about yourself?”
“I’m fine. How was your visit with your aunt?”
“Interesting,” Sylvia said, and then smiled. Jeff smiled back and wondered at the emotional change in her.
To look at her one would think she had been quite ill, but her eyes belied the frail look of her body. Those big sapphire-blue orbs looked out with a guileless serenity that Jeff had never seen there before.
They talked for over an hour, and as Jeff was ready to leave, something compelled him to ask Sylvia out.
“Maybe we could go to supper sometime.”
“Oh, I’d like that, Jeff,” Sylvia answered, her eyes shining with pleasure.
“Great! How’s Thursday night?”
“Thursday is fine.”
“Okay, I’ll stop by about 6:30. See you then.”
“Good night, Jeff.” Sylvia stood at the front door and watched until he was out of sight. She begged God to help her keep her heart in check. But Jeff Taylor was a wonderful man and Sylvia had always been a little bit in love with him. She wasn’t sure it was possible to see him socially and not fall for him all over again.
Sylvia recognized the fact that there weren’t many men who would still be friendly with her after the way she had acted. In fact, she meant to apologize about that. Thursday night, she told herself, as she went into the kitchen to tell Sandra she had a date.
thirty-three
The week flew by and Cleve could hardly believe he was leaving town the next day. He had a wonderful time with Bobbie, and praised God for her spiritual influence and the opportunity to come and see her.
Cleve had gone every day to the shipping office to eat lunch with Bobbie and the Taylor sons, and every day he wondered the same thing: How long would it be before Jeff and Bobbie knew they were in love?
Strangely enough, he was not jealous, but to him the way they cared for each other would have been obvious to a blind man: their specific smiles for each other with which no one else was gifted. Private jokes, although shared with everyone, nevertheless singled them out as something special.
Their last lunch together was at the hotel on Thursday, before Cleve would be taking the morning stage home. Bobbie announced she would treat.
“Have you fallen into a large sum of money?” Jeff wanted to know.
“It’s impolite,” Bobbie informed him with her nose in the air, “to ask a lady about her age, weight, or bank account.” Bobbie said this with the snootiest voice she could muster.
“Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right, and anyone who’s anyone would certainly know that.”
“Well, I know your age and I would guess that your weight is somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred pounds soaking wet, but your bank account, now that’s a mystery.” Jeff wagged his finger under her nose and tried to look stern.
“Get that finger any closer and I’ll bite it,” she promised him.
Cleve could only shake his head. They played around like sweethearts. Even the fact that Jeff had a date with another woman that night couldn’t change Cleve’s mind. Too many times he had seen Jeff drop his arm protectively around Bobbie’s shoulders, and even kiss her cheek or forehead. Brothers and sisters wouldn’t have acted this way.
Cleve knew that Bobbie considered Jeff a friend, and vice versa, but Cleve believed these two were on the threshold of something far more intimate. He said as much to Mrs. Taylor the night before he left town.
