by Jan Drexler
Mamm smiled. “Don’t worry. He can’t get too dirty on the walk.”
Henry climbed down the ladder. “There’s a spring wagon coming down the road.”
Cap was in the yard with Davey when they came out of the house.
“It’s the Yoders’ wagon,” Mamm said. “Annalise said Christian might come to church today if they could use the wagon to bring him.”
“Is he so much better, then?”
“Annalise said he’s talking more every day, and the headaches are rare now.”
Naomi walked toward the road as her parents and Henry fell into line behind Christian’s wagon. Hannah and Josef followed them, carrying their little ones, and then Mattie and Jacob. Again, the pang of jealousy. Ne, not jealousy, but something. Mattie and Jacob looked so happy together, with Jacob taking her hand as they walked over a rough place in the road. Mattie and Hannah had someone to share their days with, while Naomi walked along the road behind them, still alone.
“May I walk with you?” Cap said, falling in beside her. Davey walked by his side for a few steps before running ahead to walk with William.
“Do you want to?”
“Would I ask if I didn’t?”
Naomi glanced behind her on the road. The other families from LaGrange County were coming along, their voices subdued in the early morning air.
Cap matched his steps to hers. “We haven’t talked for quite a while.”
Ever since their discussion about how she was raising Davey. Naomi pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t want to have another talk like that on a Sabbath morning.
“Davey said you’ve let him go to Jacob’s to check on the sheep.”
From the corner of her eye, Naomi saw him glance at her.
“By himself,” he added.
Her face heated. Her cheeks must be bright pink. “I let Davey go to Jacob and Mattie’s alone. Several times.”
“And everything went well.”
“Everything went well.”
“He came home safely.”
Naomi stopped in the road until he turned to face her. “I know what you’re trying to say. You were right. Davey needs to have some independence.” She turned and walked on.
“You don’t need to get angry with me about it,” Cap said as he caught up with her. “I’m glad to see you took my advice.”
“I don’t need your advice.” Naomi muttered the words to herself, but Cap heard them.
“I think you do.”
He took her arm and pulled her to the side of the road as families walked past them. Her brother Isaac’s wife, Emma, stared at her as they walked by, but went on when Naomi reassured her with a smile. Once the group had passed them, Cap guided her back onto the road.
“Even though you have your parents to help you, you take too much of the responsibility of raising Davey onto yourself. You can’t raise a boy alone. It’s too hard.”
He was right. Naomi stalked down the road in spite of Cap following with a hand holding her by the elbow. No matter how she tried, Davey didn’t obey her like he should. He was wayward and noisy at times. He should respect her parents and Cap, but instead he begged and whined until he got what he wanted. And on top of everything else, when she took her eyes off of him for one minute, he got lost.
She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
“You’re right.” She turned to face him, sniffing. “I’m not a good mother for him. He should have a real family. A mother and father. Sisters and brothers. I will never be able to give him that.”
Cap stared at her until she turned and walked down the road. He caught up with her and pulled her aside while the Plank family passed them.
“That is not what I said.”
He loomed over her, his face red.
“But it’s what you meant.” She shook her head, willing the tears to stop. “I can’t raise Davey. That’s what you said.”
Cap grasped her shoulders. “I said that it’s too hard for a woman to raise a boy on her own. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”
“Who would help me? I’ll never get married, so a father for Davey is out of the question. And Mamm and Daed have already raised their family. I can’t expect them to raise Davey too.”
“Why do you say you’ll never get married?”
She looked down at her dusty shoes. Cap had said before that he didn’t see her ugly flaw, her cast eye. But how could he not? She had seen the way people stared at her all her life. As if they didn’t know which eye to look at when they talked to her. Some people even looked past her, or anywhere else to keep from seeing her wayward eye.
Cap cupped her chin in his hand and lifted it until she looked into his face.
“Any man would be blessed to have you for a wife.” He passed his thumb over her cheek with a light stroke. “You’re a beautiful woman, and a good mother to Davey.”
Naomi’s brother Noah and his family walked past them. Cap took her hand and fell into step a few yards behind them. He squeezed her hand once, and she looked at him. His smile drew her to him, and she answered with a smile of her own.
“Friends again?” His eyebrows raised as he waited for her answer.
She swallowed against the rising of butterfly wings in her stomach. “Friends again.”
Shem concentrated on keeping his feet still. The minister droned on and on about humility, of course, since today was a council meeting. After a quick dinner, Shem intended to propose that they accept him as a minister in the church. The district was certainly large enough to support more than three ministers.
Elam Schwartzendruber was a good minister. Not too pushy, kept to himself. But at twenty-one years old, Sep Troyer was the youngest minister Shem had ever known of, and full of pride about it. The only reason Shem could find for him having the position is that his father was also a minister. Somehow they must have influenced the lot when Sep was elected.
He didn’t make his pride too obvious, though. Shem could commend him for that. But he saw it in the way Preacher Sep pushed his way forward into conversations with the older men in the district, and in the proud way he looked at his pretty wife and their two little boys. He acted as if his position in the church was his by right, and maybe he thought it was.
Scanning the row of men sitting in front of him, he found Preacher Abraham Troyer, Sep’s father. The old man watched his son’s face, nodding from time to time. Another prideful one there. This entire district was full of sinners.
Shem rubbed one thumb along the seam of his trousers. He risked a glance toward the women’s side of the room. Susan Gingerich sat next to her mamm at the end of her row, right on the aisle between the two sides of the room. Sitting one row behind her and on the aisle opposite her, Shem could reach forward and touch her shoulder if he dared. Living in the same house as her family was more pleasant as time went on and he became better acquainted with Susan. Her parents trusted him, of course, and didn’t mind when he accompanied her on the long walks she liked to take in the evening. Walks down shadowed lanes where the trees were thick and travelers were few. He looked down at his feet. He needed to keep his gaze anywhere but on that lovely curve of her cheek.
One of these evenings, he would kiss her. The temptation was too great not to. And the last letter from Priscilla sounded like his wife would never join him here in Indiana. It was burdensome having a wife so far away when Susan was so close. Just an arm’s length away. Perhaps Priscilla would die from one of the many illnesses she claimed to have. He let the images of a grieving Shem being comforted by Susan and the other women in the district pass through his mind until Sep’s voice ended and the benches creaked as the congregation turned to kneel on the floor for the final prayer.
After dinner, the adults of the community took their seats on the benches once more while the older girls took the little ones outside to play. Preacher Abraham opened the meeting with prayer.
Before Abraham brought up the first item on his agenda, Shem stood.
Preacher Abraham looked a bit annoyed as he sat down to let Shem speak.
“Brothers and sisters,” he began. He smiled at the faces turned toward him. “I haven’t been in this district long, only two months. But I have talked with most of you, and you have learned to know me. I am an ordained minister from the Elm Grove district in Ontario, and I came here because I had heard that you were in need of another minister. When I arrived, I saw that this is true.” He ignored the frown on Sep Troyer’s face and turned toward the women’s side. “This district is large, and growing bigger with every family that moves into the area. There is a need for another minister, and I’m here to fill that need. I ask that you give me your approval to take my turn at preaching and to shepherd the congregation.”
He sat down. His speech had come off better than he could have hoped. He glanced around the room to gauge the reactions of the congregation and met Cap’s eyes. The other man’s face held a frown, but Shem wasn’t worried. Cap was too new here to have his opinion carry much weight.
Preacher Abraham stood again. “We have heard Brother Shem’s request. Do any of you have anything to say, either in favor of or against accepting Shem Fischer as a minister of this congregation?”
Shem smiled as Tall Peter stood to speak. The man was as close of a friend as anyone in the room.
“I agree with Brother Shem that we need another minister. We are spread out over two counties, and the distance to visit the families is too far for the ministers we have. And since two of the ministers live in Newbury Township and only one in Clinton Township”—he paused to nod toward Preacher Elam—“I think we should accept Preacher Shem’s suggestion, as long as he settles in Clinton Township.”
After Tall Peter, two other men from Clinton stood to talk, both of them agreeing with what he had said.
Then Eli Schrock stood. “I think we can all agree that a fourth minister is needed in our district. But I propose that we hold an election for the position. Then if it is God’s will that the new minister will be Shem Fischer, we are all agreed. But if it is his will that someone else should fill that role, then we need to be open to that possibility and allow God to move among us in his selection.” He took his seat again.
Shem worked to keep the frown off his face as Eli’s comment drew nods and murmurs from around the room. He couldn’t take the chance that he wouldn’t be taken by the lot to fulfill the role. It had been pure luck the first time he had been selected. He wiped the beads of sweat from his upper lip. All of his plans would come to nothing if he didn’t hold on to his position.
He stood and held his hand out as if in a benediction until the congregation was looking at him. “Would you put God to the test? He spoke when I was selected to be a minister of the gospel in Ontario. By holding another election, wouldn’t we be risking his displeasure?”
When Yost Bontrager rose to speak, Shem flexed his fists. Yost and Eli were as thick as thieves, and Christian Yoder was right there with them. He glanced at the sick man who sat in an arm chair at the edge of the group. Christian’s eyes were on Yost, bright and interested.
“I agree with Eli. Not that we doubt or question your calling”—he paused to nod in Shem’s direction—“but it is important for us to select the minister that God wills our church to ordain. We need to be certain that God’s call on Shem includes a calling to serve our community.”
Shem breathed deeply. He must control his temper, in spite of the foolishness of these men. The path ahead was clear to him, but he must use the gifts of persuasion that God gave him to make things happen his way.
“Then we will accept nominations at our next Sabbath meeting.” Shem looked around the room, giving a smile to each pair of eyes that met his. Too few. But he would have two weeks to influence the undecided to put his name forward in the nominations.
“That isn’t the way we do things, is it?” Cap stayed seated as he spoke. “The tradition is to take nominations at the council meeting. If not today, then we should wait until the fall meeting, shouldn’t we?”
Elam Schwartzendruber shifted his seat so that he was next to Abraham and Sep. As the three ministers conferred among themselves, Shem clenched his fists again. He would not give up. Not without a fight. As long as he stayed standing, they couldn’t ignore him.
Abraham Troyer stood and waited until the congregation was silent. He motioned for Shem to sit. Shem looked to the others for support, but they were all waiting to hear what the ministers had decided. Shem dropped to his seat.
“Brother Cap has made a good point. The only thing we have neglected that we would normally do before accepting nominations is to remind the congregation of the qualifications for a minister of the church. As long as no one objects, we will do that now. Afterward, there will be a time of silent prayer, and then we will take your nominations for minister. Also, please remember that as you pray about the man you will nominate, there should be no consideration of which end of the district he resides. Submit yourselves to our Lord’s leading.”
The congregation agreed, so Preacher Abraham rose and started listing the qualifications from Scripture. Shem rubbed at his knuckles, waiting for him to finish. When Abraham reached the end of the Scripture passages from 1 Timothy and Acts, he opened a copy of the Dordrecht Confession.
“In addition, remember this from our forefathers: We must all ‘assist in word and doctrine; so that each one may serve the other from love, with the gift he has received from the Lord.’” Preacher Abraham laid the book down and laced his hands together, his head bowed. “We must consider all of these things as we pray for the Lord’s guidance in the selection of a minister for our congregation. Be diligent in seeking God’s will. Now let us pray.”
Shem knelt at his seat as the congregation around him shifted to their own positions for the silent prayer, some sitting with head bowed, some kneeling.
He centered his thoughts on his desire. Let no other name other than my own be put forward in the nominations. None other.
Cap willed his thoughts to settle as he sat with his head bowed, his hands clasped between his knees. He had seen the expression on Shem’s face. It was one of greed, not love. Selfishness, not service. He breathed deeply, calming his racing thoughts.
They said this was God’s will, this way of selecting a minister. It was the Ordnung. It was the way they had used to select their leaders for hundreds of years. He couldn’t doubt that this was the right way to do things. But Shem could not be the one who would come out as their new minister at the end of the day.
Cap sighed. He had to control his thoughts. He glanced toward the women’s side of the room, where Naomi knelt next to the bench, her eyes closed. Every inch of her body betrayed her attitude of prayer. Her submission to God’s will.
He closed his eyes again. If God directed all things . . . He steered his mind away from the image of Martha lying on her death bed. Think of now. Think of Shem wanting to be the new minister.
Naomi seemed to believe without question, while all he wanted to do was obey the Ordnung so that things would go well for him.
But if God was sovereign . . .
Martha’s last words came to him, as if he was sitting by her death bed once more. “Don’t turn your back on God. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.”
She had whispered the words as she lay on the bed. His mind tried to turn from the scene, but he wrenched it back. In her last minutes of life, weak from childbirth and blood loss, her plea had been for him. And he had ignored it. He had turned his back on God, just like she had been afraid he would. Somewhere in those numb hours and days after she and their son had died, after he had thrown the final clods of dirt on their grave, he had turned his back on the God who had caused his pain.
No loving God could cause so much pain.
Cap clamped down a sob that nearly escaped. The fists pressed against his eyes were wet.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
&
nbsp; His thoughts were of Martha when he said the words, but like a door creaking open, a light glimmered from far away.
He rested, still in prayer, still buried deep within his thoughts. Minutes passed. All around him the community was laboring in prayer. As if from far away, he heard sighs and even a sobbing, whispered cry or two. But he paid no attention. Had he been right to blame God for Martha’s death? He let his thoughts probe the memories of those awful days. He had never felt so lonely as he had then, and the loneliness had continued through the long years. Even his move to this new community hadn’t repaired the damage.
The door creaked a little farther, the light grew stronger.
Whether God had caused his pain or not, he was also the only one who could relieve the agony. The only one who could heal his wounded soul. The only one who could open his heart and give him peace.
Oh, how he longed for that peace!
Like a wave lapping onto the sand, the light washed over him. Peace infused his whole being. He nearly gasped from the relief as his grief . . . his pain . . . fell from him like a burden released.
He remained still, his head bowed, letting his thoughts rest in the light like a leaf in a gentle breeze.
Then, like a bell, came a name. Christian Yoder.
He had never felt so sure about a nomination for a minister in his life. He knew the name that God wanted him to put forth.
After the community quieted, each member silent and still, Preacher Abraham stood and called them back to the world. “If all are ready, we will begin the nominations.”
The three ministers filed into the bedroom in the back of the house. One by one, the members of the congregation went up to the door and whispered the name of the man they wished to nominate into the narrow opening of the cracked door. After Cap had gone up and whispered Christian’s name, he took his seat again.
Shem watched each person, his face set in a pleasant smile that wasn’t reflected in his eyes.
The final person was Christian. Preacher Elam came to his chair and listened to the whispered name, then disappeared into the bedroom.
