A Hope for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  After everyone left, Jake stood and watched the buggy lights grow distant.

  “I’m sorry to see them go,” he said.

  “I am too,” Hannah said, surprised at how much she meant it. The young couple would be missed in the small church.

  Thirty-three

  Hannah sat in her usual place on the hard bench with the other women, but this Sunday, Sylvia Stoll was not beside her. Instead the line of young unmarried girls started immediately. Either Sylvia and Ben had made their final decision and already left the Amish church, or they were absent because of sickness. After the meeting the other night, Hannah couldn’t help but suppose it was the former reason.

  On the way to church, a cold blast swept down the mountain slopes. Last night too had been frigid. When Hannah greeted Betty in the kitchen, her aunt said that the pond they had passed on their way to church had frozen over. And now, outside the living room window of Amos Raber’s place, where church was being held, the branches on the trees whipped angrily back and forth.

  Hannah shivered on the bench, though the house was well heated. Amos kept his old furnace chugging along just fine. Every so often he would head for the basement to add wood to the fire. The cause of Hannah's discomfort was not the temperature but the emptiness inside of her.

  Hannah hadn’t expected to experience such strong feelings after losing the baby. But then she hadn’t ever given a thought to the sad possibility. How could she know how to feel? And yet, for the past several days, a void seemed to have engulfed her. She had mourned more—not less—over the life that still should have been in her. She felt like weeping over a grave, but there was none.

  Around her the singing rose and fell while the ministers met upstairs. It wouldn’t be long before they returned and began the preaching. Jake would be preaching this morning, she supposed. It might even be his first time doing the main sermon. Strange, she thought, how the preaching suddenly held such an interest for her.

  The song ended with one last exertion, the notes rising in a joyous outburst of sound. Around the room, silence descended instantly, as if no one wanted to be the first to move. Then came a cautious shuffle of feet, and someone fumbled for his handkerchief and loudly blew his nose.

  With the announcement of the next song number, the room filled with expectation, as if everyone simultaneously drew in breath for the start of the song. The sound of shoes on the hardwood steps came first, though, followed by a collapse of the room’s collective readiness to sing. Hannah heard the songbooks softly close all around her. She shut her own book and laid it under the bench. Preaching hour had arrived.

  Bishop Nisley delivered the first sermon, followed by the Scripture reading. Christmas was in two weeks, and Bishop mentioned the fact briefly. Jake, though, got up to deliver the main sermon as Hannah expected. He told the full story of Jesus’ birth.

  He stood close to the double living room windows. With his hands clasped and his young features sober, he told of the birthday of Jesus, a time to reflect on God becoming a man. Jake started with what Hannah assumed were Old Testament prophecies and spoke of the promise of a child who would be the hope of mankind. “In a world of sickness, sin, suffering, and war, God would give His answer in His own time, His solution to the world’s troubles.

  “The baby was born of a virgin and grew up to tread on the head of the serpent. He was bitten in the heel for His troubles and was killed. He would be called Emmanuel, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, and of His reign and kingdom would have no end. He would be known as the Man of Sorrows,” Jake said. “He would weep over His people, even though they would reject Him. He would be taken as a lamb to the slaughter, to be killed like a sheep who would remain silent before its shearers. The world would never understand how God could save without an army, without a war of slaughter against His enemies, without reigning as a king from Jerusalem.

  “The religious leaders of the day,” Jake said, “expected something God didn’t do, something He never said He would do. Their years of Scripture study had led them away from God and into their own understanding. The church leaders thought God was like them—hard, unforgiving, enforcing a harsh code of justice.

  “Many of them had forgotten the beginning, when God walked in the garden with Adam and Eve and talked to them in the cool of the day. People of Jesus’ day were no longer being told that God loved His people, that He created them for love, and that He could do no differently than love, as His nature demanded it.

  “In the Old Testament,” Jake said, “God spoke of comforting His people. He commanded the prophets to cry out to Jerusalem, to proclaim the end of her warfare, to announce her iniquities pardoned; one could receive double from the Lord for any wrongs committed.”

  Jake then said, “God was no longer in the garden. Sin had defiled it. Man could work all he wanted, but this earth would never be heaven. This was no longer our home. God’s people were now to be pilgrims and strangers down here, never quite at home, preparing for their move to a better world where they would live forever.

  “The wonder of the child’s birth was not that the earth had become heaven, but that heaven had come down to earth. God became man, not to live in one place or to be at home in one country but to be at home in every man’s and woman’s heart, preparing them for the move to God’s new world. There could never be another garden of Eden, but there could be a garden in the heart of all who believe in Jesus.

  “God wants to live fully through those who believe in Him. He wants them to go into all the world, wherever sin is, and live the life of God fully—the humble, unarmed, holy life that the child brought into the manger. Such a life inevitably attracts persecution and hatred from those who don’t understand.

  “Our forefathers,” Jake said, “never believed the earth could be made into heaven. They never sought to bring about another protected place where no scorpions crawled or wolves tore up lambs, where people could eat from the tree of life whenever they wanted to. Instead they went about their lives like sheep among wolves because that was how God had come into this world.

  “It was a great mystery,” Jake continued, “what God was doing. He revealed His plans slowly, throughout the pages of Scripture. He started working with one man, Abraham, and one nation, Israel. This led many religious leaders to think that where God started He was going to stop. They thought this meant God loved only Jews and worked only through war and battle.

  “But God is going somewhere,” Jake said as he started to walk around a little, clasping and unclasping his hands in front of him. Hannah glanced over to Bishop Nisley, afraid of what she would see. Was Jake preaching too well again—especially today with his first main sermon?

  Relieved by what she saw, Hannah relaxed. A faint smile played on Bishop’s face. She was certain he even nodded once. Apparently Jake wasn’t straying too far from what was expected, or maybe Jake had proved himself in other ways, and Bishop now trusted him.

  “Through His work with Israel, God took the best route to Christ,” Jake said. “Along the way, He had allowed war, and He had allowed David to have many wives, but when Christ came, the fullness of God’s will was revealed.

  “The baby in the manger shows what God truly intends for His people. He shows how they are to live in a world of sin and sorrow. If God can fulfill His promise of bringing Christ into the world, if He can move past wars to the unprotected manger, then He can also fulfill His promise now.

  “That promise,” Jake said, “is the day coming—a day when all tears will be wiped away, all sorrow and sin removed in a new heaven and a new earth. It will be just as wrong for God’s people today to think that suffering and sickness could be removed from our present earth as it would have been for the people in King David’s day to think they could live without fighting wars.

  “God allows imperfections because that is what is best. Somehow, in fact, God is pleased to work through the imperfections of this world.”

  Hannah wasn’t certain, but she thought
there was a glisten of tears in Jake’s eyes. Then they vanished, and yet they had served to compel Hannah to listen even more closely.

  “The loss of those we love, of children—even those unborn—troubles us,” Jake said. “It leaves an emptiness inside, and we wonder why God would allow such loss. We go to funerals and mourn our departed loved ones. We cannot even begin to understand the suffering and sin in the world.

  “Why, then, would God send us only a child in a manger as an answer to all of this? Why not just wipe out sin? Why not destroy the devil? Why not stop all the killing in the streets of our big cities? Why not raise up a righteous government in Washington that could rule without sin? Would that not seem like a better answer to us?”

  Jake paused and then answered his own question. “To our understanding, perhaps so. Yet in God’s design, it would be wrong. We must not think that the presence of suffering makes God unloving and uncaring.”

  Jake paused again to look across the gathering of men and women, many who watched him with upraised faces. “We must live,” he continued, “blameless and harmless in a sinful and suffering world because that is the way God wants us to live. We should never blame God because He doesn’t explain everything to us. He owes us no explanations.”

  Jake paused again and then decided that was all he wanted to say. He then asked for testimonies. Mose spoke and was followed by two of the older men.

  Hannah sat tensely as each man spoke, fearful that someone would say Jake had erred in his sermon. But no one did. Instead they all pronounced it the Word of God and confirmed God’s blessing on it.

  Jake stood up again, announced prayer, and closed the service as they all knelt. The younger children made a rush to leave the room, followed more slowly by the young people. Hannah rose to help prepare the noon meal in the kitchen.

  Thirty-four

  “Did you notice…Sylvia and Ben aren’t here?” Betty whispered to Hannah as the two women approached the kitchen.

  “Yes, I noticed,” Hannah whispered back.

  “They’re leaving,” Betty said with horror in her voice, “for a liberal church.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Hannah said.

  “Are they being excommunicated?” Betty’s voice was still a whisper.

  Hannah knew this was dangerous territory, especially for a minister’s wife. If she had information, she shouldn’t share it before a public announcement was made. “Bishop will decide that,” she finally said, thankful they were approaching other women and the conversation would have to end.

  “I would think so,” Betty said with finality.

  “Hello,” Elizabeth said to the two women.

  Amos’s wife, Mandy, placed butter on plates and said to Hannah, “You can help with these.”

  Hannah knew what that meant. She picked up two plates in each hand and headed back toward the living room. When she arrived, the men had already scooted the benches together, two or three wide, and set them on risers to form tables, and two women had covered them with vinyl tablecloths.

  With a glance behind her, Hannah saw Betty following with bowls of peanut butter. Together they set out the items with even spaces between them. By the time they came to the end of the table, other women had placed the forks and knives on the tables. The first round of food was ready five minutes later.

  Hannah stood in the doorway of the kitchen as prayer was announced and the meal began. Because Jake was now a minister and thus climbing the ladder of seniority, he got to be at the head of the line.

  The same would, no doubt, be true for her eventually, she figured. But for now, the other women didn’t insist on her going first but allowed her to stay in the regular line of women. This suited Hannah just fine because any rhythm from her old life was a comfort and made her less aware of the changes in her life.

  She ate during the second round and then helped with a few stragglers in the third round. The last round consisted of only one table, which was set up in the master bedroom. Hannah was certain there was a purpose to Elizabeth helping her serve, and she didn’t have long to wait to find out what it was.

  “I hope you weren’t too disturbed the other night,” Elizabeth said more than asked.

  Hannah shook her head.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I told John he shouldn’t conduct church business in front of everyone. He just thought it might help to have the meeting at your place—that it might make Ben and Sylvia more comfortable.”

  “I hope it did,” Hannah said truthfully.

  “I see they didn’t show up today.” Elizabeth glanced around. “John will be disappointed.”

  “Jake too,” Hannah said.

  “John is hoping it won’t spread,” Elizabeth said with a worried look. “I think he’s changed his mind about Jake.”

  “Oh.” Hannah glanced around to see if anyone was listening. No other women were close, and the few children at the table were intent on their peanut butter sandwiches.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth continued and nodded. “I think he’s right for the position, especially after today. John will be happy.”

  Hannah’s face showed her question.

  “Jake’s kind of preaching might be just what is needed for our young couples. You heard what Sylvia and Ben said—about the spiritual part. This might help. John thinks God might be helping us out through Jake.”

  “Are there more people thinking of leaving?”

  “John thinks so. Seems there’s some sort of a movement going on in Kalispell. There’s a lot of temptation.”

  “And here too?” Hannah asked, surprised.

  “Well, not so much just yet, but John’s afraid it might be coming our way.”

  “So Sylvia and Ben are gone for good?”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Elizabeth said. “I suppose they went to church over there today—had someone drive them. It does sound like they’re serious, though.”

  “Do you think there’s anything can we do,” Hannah asked, “to keep them here?”

  “That’s what I really wanted to talk to you about,” Elizabeth said with a quick glance around to make sure she was free to speak.

  Hannah waited, wondering what more could possibly come her way.

  “At the ministers’ meeting this morning,” Elizabeth said, “John told me he was going to ask Jake to talk with Will and Rebecca Troyer.”

  “Will and Rebecca?” A picture of the couple flashed into Hannah’s mind. They were already married when she first came from Indiana to help with Betty’s riding stable. As she remembered it, Will had moved in from a community in Bonners Ferry, but Rebecca was local.

  “They weren’t here today either,” Elizabeth said.

  “Are they leaving too?”

  “Well, it’s something else…kind of,” Elizabeth said, leaving Hannah more puzzled than ever.

  Betty bustled up behind them. “Oh, here you are. Have you enough help with this table?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Hannah said.

  “Oh,” Betty said, glancing at Elizabeth, “did I interrupt something?”

  “Not really,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I was done.”

  “Well…” Betty replied.

  Hannah could see Betty was curious. Once again, the burden of kept confidences would weigh heavy on her shoulders.

  “I’ll go get the water pitchers,” Elizabeth said.

  “Church things,” Hannah said when Elizabeth moved out of sight. Any more than that, she didn’t want to say.

  “Oh,” Betty said, obviously disappointed not to be told more.

  Elizabeth returned with the water pitchers and smiled knowingly at Hannah. Apparently she trusts me, Hannah thought, not sure she enjoyed the feeling.

  “Hannah, why don’t you stop by this week?” Betty asked. “On Thursday afternoon we’re having the youth over. We’re making Christmas packages for a ministry in Libby. There’ll be games and such afterward. You could help me get ready. Jake could stop by on his way home.”

  “O
h,” Hannah answered, taking an immediate interest, “I’d like that.”

  “You’ll ask Jake, then?”

  “He shouldn’t object,” Hannah said. She liked the idea of some activity that wasn’t associated with Jake being a minister.

  “The young people will enjoy it. I think a lot of them like Jake as a minister,” Betty said, spoiling the moment. “You’ll come, then?”

  “If Jake doesn’t object,” Hannah said.

  “Good. Oh, there’s Steve,” Betty said with a glance out the living room window and toward the barn.

  “Jake’s not far behind,” Hannah replied. She didn’t see Jake at the moment but figured he must be about ready to go home. True to her words, the next man to come out of the barn was Jake, his horse following behind him.

  Betty left to retrieve her shawl from the table by the back door. She found it just about the time Hannah stepped up to the table. “There it is!” Betty said. “Thought I’d never find it.” And with that she disappeared out the door.

  Hannah took a minute to find her shawl and bonnet, and by the time she stepped outside, Betty was already in the buggy with Steve. Jake had their buggy pulled up right behind them. Hannah tightly wrapped the ends of her shawl around herself as she walked down the sidewalk and climbed into the buggy.

  “Chilly,” Jake said, pulling his black suit coat tighter around himself and shaking the lines to get Mosey moving.

  “You should have brought your winter coat,” Hannah said. Next Sunday she would see that he wore it.

  Hannah glanced at Jake out of the corner of her eye. He looked the same as always, yet this was the minister who said all those things this morning in his sermon. She struggled to connect the two images and then gave up. They were simply too far apart. One stood beyond her grasp, the other sat right beside her and talked like the Jake she had always known. Were the two really the same man?

  “Bishop wants us to go talk with Will and Rebecca,” Jake said just like that.