The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

  He knew that Lydia would be deeply concerned. He hadn’t been home as yet. He had circled around Water Street on the off chance that he might see Joseph, and found him just coming out of the store with members of the Twelve. He hung back, waiting for them to finish. Now four of them—Brigham, Heber, Wilford Woodruff, and John Taylor—all crossed Water Street and started north. Joseph, Hyrum, George A. Smith, and Willard Richards started moving toward him. He waited until they were just across from him and then stepped out. “Good evening,” he said.

  They leaned forward, peering through the darkness.

  “It’s me, Nathan Steed.”

  There was a soft murmur of surprise, and then he heard Hyrum say quietly, “I’ll stop and tell Emma you’ll be a while.” The three of them moved on, murmuring greetings to Nathan as they passed, and in a moment there was just him and Joseph. Joseph gestured with his head back toward the store. “Shall we talk?”

  They were in his private office. Joseph lit a lamp but kept the wick shortened so that there was just enough light to allow them to see each other. Nathan asked after Emma and how the store was doing, and they chatted aimlessly for several minutes. Then finally Joseph fell quiet.

  Nathan watched him, seeing the concern on his face, and decided it was no use postponing it further. “Can we talk about it?” he asked tentatively.

  There was a brief nod. “I’ve been hoping you would come.”

  “Pa said he told you about the situation with me and Carl and Joshua, how I am supposed to find out what is really true here.”

  There was a sad smile. “Benjamin said you were absolutely adamant in defending me, in saying there could be no truth to any of this.”

  “Yes. I was so sure.”

  “I understand, but you have to be careful that you don’t try and speak for the Lord.”

  “I know. I can see that.” There was silence again, but Joseph waited patiently.

  Then Nathan spoke again. “Thank you for asking Brigham and Heber to speak with us. I know that is taking a great risk for you and . . .”

  Joseph waved it away. “Your family—even the ones who are not members—are not a risk to me, Nathan.”

  “Even Joshua?” he asked.

  Joseph smiled. “Even old blustery Joshua. He wants so badly to hate us. I’m sorry that we’re making it so difficult for him.”

  “This could do it, Joseph. This thing with Will and Caroline has deeply upset him. And now he has just the weapon he’s been looking for.”

  “Does he?” Joseph seemed unconcerned. “This may turn Joshua against the Church. I hope not.” Then he shrugged. “Joshua will have to decide that. But it won’t turn him into an enemy. Not anymore.”

  “I wish I could be so sure.”

  “Actually,” Joseph said slowly, watching Nathan closely now, “it’s Joshua’s brother that I am more concerned about.”

  Nathan’s eyes lowered and he said nothing for a moment. Again Joseph just waited. Finally it burst out of him. “I don’t understand it, Joseph. I don’t understand how God could ask such a thing. Not now. Not in our time. How can it be right? Do you know what the world is going to say when they learn all this?”

  “That had crossed my mind,” Joseph said with a droll smile. Then he sobered. “You don’t have to understand it to believe it, Nathan.”

  “Why? Why can’t I understand it? Am I expected to accept things blindly?”

  “Is it blindness to accept something in faith, even when you don’t fully understand it? Do you think Abraham fully understood why God asked him to sacrifice his son? He knew what the commandment was about killing and about human sacrifice. Don’t you think he had many questions? So, did Abraham act blindly or in faith?”

  Nathan hesitated, then blew out his breath in frustration. “I can’t debate you out of the scriptures, Joseph. You know that.”

  “Is that what you think, Nathan?” he asked, the rebuke plain in his eyes. “That I’m looking for a debate?”

  “No, it’s just that . . .” He sat back, shaking his head. “I don’t know anymore, Joseph. I don’t know.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “I want you to tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Joseph asked softly. “That I’m a prophet? That God has spoken to me on this matter of having plural wives?”

  “Yes!”

  There was a slow smile. “I’m a prophet and God has spoken to me on this matter.”

  “Please, Joseph,” Nathan said wearily. “Don’t toy with me.”

  “Oh?” There was a bite to his voice now. “First I want to debate you. Now I’m toying with you?”

  “I mean no offense, Joseph. You know that. But I’m trying to sort things out. I’m really confused.”

  Joseph watched him for almost a full minute, silently appraising him. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Let me tell you something, Nathan. In Liberty Jail, during those terrible, awful months away from my people, away from my family, away from all that was decent and good, I reached a point where I wondered what was happening. I was in the darkest despair. Why was God allowing this terrible tragedy to occur? We were his people, yet every day brought news of their suffering. Widows and children were starving.”

  Now there was real pain in Joseph’s eyes as he stared beyond the dim glow of the lamp. “One day, my heart was filled with heaviness. I was discouraged and filled with concern. And so I cried out in the anguish of my despair. ‘O God! Where art thou? Where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?’” He began to rub his hands softly together. “I asked God why he wasn’t acting in our behalf. Why had he stayed his hand from reaching out to us? How long was he going to allow us to suffer in this manner? He is the Lord Almighty! Well, why wasn’t he unleashing some of that almighty power against our enemies? Those were the questions that were torn from my heart that day.

  “Then in the sweetness of the Spirit, the Lord heard my cries and answered me.” Now he finally looked at Nathan. “And do you know what, Nathan? He not only answered the questions I asked, he also answered the questions I should have asked. Well, maybe that’s what you need, Nathan. Maybe he’s waiting for you to ask different questions.”

  “Like what?”

  He stood, surprising Nathan. “That is between you and God, and you must ask him that.” He took a quick breath. “You have come tonight because you want me to still your doubts, Nathan. You want me to just hand you the answers. Even if I could, I’m not sure that I would.”

  “But why?” Nathan cried. “I need your help, Joseph.”

  “You’re not ready for my help, Nathan.”

  Nathan didn’t even look up. The words were too devastating.

  “There are two things from the Old Testament that seem to apply here, Nathan. I share them with you in hopes that they might help you find your way through this. Do you remember Professor Seixas back in Kirtland?”

  Nathan was caught off guard by that, but then nodded. “Yes, he taught Hebrew in the School of the Prophets.”

  “That’s right. Here is a lesson he taught to me. When Elijah was having the contest with the prophets of Baal, to see who could call down the power of God, he asked the Israelites a question. He said, ‘How long halt ye between two opinions?’ Well, Professor Seixas told me that the phrase which is translated as ‘halt ye between two opinions’ comes from a Hebrew phrase which describes a bird hopping back and forth between two branches.”

  “And you think that’s what I’m doing?”

  “Do you think that’s what you’re doing?” Joseph shot right back. But then, without waiting for a response, he went on. “The second thought comes from the book of Jeremiah. Jeremiah also asked a probing question. It comes from the twelfth chapter. He says something like this: ‘If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, how canst thou contend with the horses?’”

  Nathan shook his head. “I don’t understand what that means.”

  “In battle, if you are in the infantry—that
is, if you are a footman—and you are having difficulty contending with other infantry, what will happen when the chariots come? And what I’m telling you is this, Nathan—the time has come in the Church when we are facing chariots.”

  Now Joseph fell silent, letting Nathan digest that. Abruptly he blew out the lamp, signaling that the meeting was over. Surprised and a little bewildered, Nathan stood too. Without speaking they left the office, went down the stairs, through the store, and to the door. Joseph opened it and let him out, but he stayed there without following. As Nathan reached the bottom of the steps, he finally spoke. “Nathan?”

  He turned, looking up at the Prophet.

  “We need men who can run with the horses. There’s no way you can do that when you’re hopping back and forth between branches.”

  Nathan reeled a little at the slap of the words.

  “When you decide which questions you really want to ask, then we’ll talk again.”

  Chapter 30

  Lydia watched Nathan dress. He moved slowly, deliberately.

  “Nathan. I think you need to eat something.”

  He shook his head and kept buttoning his shirt.

  “Is it wise to fast this long?” she asked.

  He just shook his head again. Then Lydia remembered something. When Joseph had asked for Vilate, Heber had gone three days without food or water, seeking an answer. This was starting Nathan’s third day. Now she understood, though it did little to lessen her concern. He looked drawn and very tired. But there was also a change. She rose from the bed and went over to him, moving his hands away and doing the top buttons herself.

  He watched her steadily, then took her face in his hands when she finished. “You’re not going to give up on me, are you?”

  She was astonished. “Is that what you think?”

  “I would if it were me.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “You would only give up on yourself. You would never give up if this were me.”

  He thought about that and finally nodded. “Probably not.”

  “You didn’t before. I have a Book of Mormon with coffee stains on it as proof of that.” And then she reached up and kissed him softly. “The anger is gone.”

  That surprised him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I know that you haven’t found what you’re looking for, Nathan, but the anger is gone. I can feel it.”

  He considered that. “Yes,” he finally said, half in wonder, “I guess it is.” He sat down and began to pull on his boots. “What time did you need me at the store?”

  “Caroline said she can cover it until eleven. Then that woman we hired last week will be coming in at one. But Nathan, I’ll just go. I promised your mother I would go and look at some dress material with her, but that can wait.”

  He shook his head. “By eleven, I’ll be tired of wandering out there, staring at the sky and wondering whatever happened to Nathan Steed.” There was a wan smile. “No, really. I’ll be there. This means a lot to Mother to have you there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, then stood. “I can’t believe this has been so easy for you.”

  “I know. That’s what I told your mother. Usually, it’s the other way around.”

  “You really have no questions?”

  “I have a hundred questions, but I have no doubts.”

  He shook his head, finding that difficult to contemplate.

  The love Lydia felt for this man was suddenly like a great well of living water within her and the tears came unbidden. She put her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. “Maybe Heavenly Father knew that he couldn’t have both of us down at the same time.”

  Jennifer Jo knocked softly, then opened the door. “Kathryn, you have company.”

  Kathryn was reading a book. It was propped up in a special stand which sat on her bed. Matthew had designed and built it for her at the woodworking shop. Lydia’s daughter Emily was there to turn the pages and fetch anything that she might need.

  Kathryn turned her head. “Who is it?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  She looked at Emily, who would turn ten in a couple of months. “Surprise? Do you know anybody by that name?” she asked, acting puzzled.

  Emily giggled as Kathryn turned back to Jennifer Jo. “Show him or her in, whichever the case may be.”

  That sent Emily off into peals of laughter, but Jennifer Jo just rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve been in bed too long.”

  As Jennifer Jo came to the bed, Kathryn grew more serious. “Really, Jennifer, who is it?”

  “You’ll see.” She bent over and, to Kathryn’s surprise, laid a towel over her eyes. “Lift your head.” As Kathryn did so, she tied it behind her head, making a blindfold.

  “What is this?” Kathryn asked.

  “Never you mind.” Jennifer Jo turned. “All right,” she called. “You may come in now.”

  Kathryn cocked her head, trying to pick out individual sounds as three pairs of boots came clunking across her floor. But it was too muddled. “Who is it?” she called cheerfully. There was no answer, but suddenly she felt hands slip beneath her and lift her up. “Oh!” she gasped.

  “Just hold still,” Matthew said into her ear. “We’ve got you.”

  She felt herself carried across the room and then, more slowly, through the door. Then they crossed the main room and went outside. “Help! Emily! I’m being kidnaped.”

  She heard Emily laugh, and then, to her surprise, a lot of others joined in the laughter as well. “Careful, now,” Matthew warned as they walked down the porch step.

  Thoroughly intrigued now, Kathryn relaxed, letting herself be carried along, still wondering what it was they were doing and why the great mystery.

  “Okay, we’re going to sit you down now. Ready?”

  They bent her at the waist and she felt her feet lowered. In a moment she felt the confines of a hard chair, with a cushion in the seat. Someone moved her arms so that they rested on the arms of the chair. Then they let her go. To her amazement, there were oohs and aahs and a sudden smattering of applause. Then, before she could consider what that meant, Jennifer Jo whipped off the blindfold.

  She blinked at the brightness of the sunlight, seeing that it was the family gathered around her. They were smiling and looking at her with great pride. Emily came darting right around in front of her. “Yea!” she cried, clapping her hands. “How do you like it?”

  “Like it?” Kathryn gasped as her chair began to move, gliding along smoothly, like a sleigh on hard-packed snow. She looked down now and saw that her chair had wheels. And they were turning. She was moving effortlessly down the walk, between the applauding family members. As they reached the front gate, the chair stopped. Arching her back, she turned to see who was behind her. There, grinning like two young schoolboys, were Peter Ingalls and Will Steed.

  “Hello, Kathryn,” they said in chorus.

  “But . . . ,” she started, totally bewildered now. “What is this?”

  Jennifer Jo was suddenly kneeling at her side, smiling broadly. “It’s a wheelchair, Kathryn. It’s your very own wheelchair. Now you can go all around town if you like.”

  “A wheelchair?” she stammered, not fully understanding.

  Now Peter was at her other side. “Yes. Matthew made it at his shop. It’s just for you.” He took hold of one of the large wooden wheels, which had metal bands around them as the tires. He rocked the chair back and forth. “See? It moves as easily as a feather.”

  She turned her head, searching for Matthew among the

  familiar faces. When she found him, her eyes were suddenly glistening. “You made this for me?”

  In typical Matthew fashion, he blushed a little and shrugged. “Actually, it was Peter’s idea. He showed me a picture from a New York catalog. The rest was easy.”

  She turned back, but Peter had moved behind her and now he said, “Matthew is the designer; I provide the horsepower; Will is the navigator.”
>
  Will bowed. “Would you care for a tour around town, Miss McIntire?”

  “Oh, I would love one,” Kathryn cried, hardly believing that this was happening.

  “Then hold on tight,” Will commanded. Then his face flamed as he realized his blunder. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kathryn.”

  She laughed in delight. “No, look.” She flexed her fingers, then awkwardly clenched the two arms of her chair. “See? I can hold on. Off with you, good sirs.”

  With the applause and cheers of the family sounding in her ears, they navigated their way out the gate and started up Granger Street. The younger children ran alongside, laughing and clapping and calling to one another as though this were some grand parade. Kathryn laid her head back, letting the sun splash across her face, reveling in the sheer glory of it all.

  They had circled clear up around the stone quarry and were heading back toward Steed Row when they came past the family store. By then the children had tired and returned home and it was just the three of them—Kathryn in the chair, Will and Peter each taking turns pushing her. Suddenly the door to the store opened and Nathan came striding out. “Hey there!” he called. “Who is this beautiful young woman going past my door?”

  “Hello, Uncle Nathan.”

  He came down to the street and Will let the chair roll to a stop. “Well,” Nathan called, “I heard about this. What do you think of your new chariot?”

  “Oh, Uncle Nathan, it’s absolutely glorious. I feel like I’m free. I don’t ever want to get back in that bed.”

  “Well, let’s not overdo it on the first day, all right?” He walked around the chair, eyeing it up and down. “Very good,” he said. “Matthew does good work.”