The mayor pounded his gavel. “There will be order, Mr. Webster. You are speaking out of turn.”
“I apologize.” He quickly reclaimed his seat.
“All of this has been discussed in detail,” Joshua declared. “I believe we have heard all that we need to hear.”
And with very little additional discussion, a vote was taken, and the motion was approved. The city would take the land. Habram and Lena exchanged a knowing glance, while around the room men grumbled and women sobbed.
Habram squeezed Lena’s hand. “God still holds our future.”
“Ja. He does. We will not fear the unknown.”
Jordan Webster wore a look of elation. Habram wanted to slap the silly grin from his face. It wasn’t right that a person’s land should so easily be taken from him. He expected that in Sweden, but not in America.
As they filed out of the room, Habram heard Lucas Carson question one of the councilmen.
“What percentage of money does Webster plan to give back to the city from his hotel profits?” Mr. Carson asked as Webster approached.
“Lucas, you know this is best for Duluth,” the councilman replied.
“I tried to buy their land fair and square,” Mr. Webster interjected. “I offered more than the city will. They are the foolish ones for not taking it.” He preened. “It’s going to be great for Duluth.”
Carson gave him a hard stare. “Maybe so, but what is best for these people?”
What was best for the people of this neighborhood? Who could know, save God alone? He heard the crying of the women and the angry outbursts from the men and couldn’t help but wonder where God was in all of this.
“Habram,” one of the men said, “is there no way we can fight this?”
“None that I know of. We must put our trust in God. He has never failed us.”
“Habram’s right,” Lena added. “And who knows, this might turn out to be a bigger blessing than we could ever imagine.” She smiled at their friends who had gathered around. “I don’t want to leave my home, but I trust in the Lord and will count it all joy.”
On Sunday afternoon, Pastor Persson came to see Ilian. He was surprised to see the pastor, but even more surprised to realize that he was glad the man had visited.
“You’re getting around on crutches now,” Persson declared. “What a great thing.”
“Yes, I’m building my strength. The doctor says I may put a little weight on the leg from time to time for strengthening. I can hardly wait to be free of the cast’s confines, however. I just want to break loose from it.”
The pastor took a seat beside Ilian’s chair. “I think we all have that feeling this time of year. Wanting to break free from our winter cocoon. There is an anticipatory sense of what is to come.”
“Ja.” Ilian tried not to think of the limitations he might yet have to contend with in his life. “Like being on the edge of something about to happen.”
“Like the canal.” The older man smiled. “There is great anticipation for the weather to warm and the canal to be built. It’s all anyone in town can talk about.”
“I’m sure. My father is a part of it, and I know he’s anxious for it to be completed. Folks in Wisconsin don’t want us to have it.”
“No. Their fears give them great concern for the future. I believe we can all work together to make a good life for all. There will be plenty of need for both harbors once more people come west. Now that the war is behind us, westward expansion is on the minds of people back East. They find the scars of war worth escaping, or they long for adventure.”
“I try to imagine the frontier at times.” Ilian smiled. “But I’ve never been one who really longed for adventure. Just a place to call home—something and someone to be forever my own. I’ve lived in the logging camp for so many years and then on the battlefield during the war. I long for a fixed foundation—a permanent home.”
The pastor nodded and leaned back in his chair. “The contentment of the soul that is born from the security of consistency.”
“Ja. Consistency.” Ilian thought about that word. “I believe that’s a word I’ve often heard Lena associate with her faith. She told me once that God was the only constant in her life.”
“Many people feel that way, including myself. God’s consistency makes the inconsistent, constant change of the world more bearable. When nothing else offers the comfort of the familiar, I know that in God I will find contentment. He never changes.”
“I am finding it more and more attractive to hear you and others speak of God as someone who is ever present. A constant, as you say. People tell me that I need Him—that I need His Son Jesus as a Savior. They tell me my sin nature cannot be made right with God unless accompanied by Jesus. You told me logic and reasoning could not save me. Only the cross could do that.”
“It’s true. Jesus reconciles us to the Father. When we accept His gift of salvation—His death on the cross in our place—then He goes before the Father and offers representation. As if your father knew nothing of me, but you and I had become associates. You would approach your father on my behalf and vouch for me.”
“Ja, I can see that now. It’s all so different from what I learned from my mother, but I can see now that her beliefs never served her well.” Ilian felt a warmth in his chest. For the first time he could see God as something other than indifferent. “His love for His own creation . . . it seems real to me for the first time. Not something born out of emotion and nonsense, but out of the pride of creation—the part of Himself that He gave when He breathed life into us.”
“A beautiful way to think of it. One that I can’t say has come to me before, but one that will remain with me for the future.” The pastor gave a knowing nod. “I believe your spirit is crying out for that oneness with God, Ilian.”
“Ja. Oneness. To be complete and whole. To feel the presence of the living God . . . and to please Him. The Deist philosophy believes in practicing kindness to all, to extending a sort of generosity of spirit. When I read about Jesus—He is the very epitome of that generosity.”
“He is. He could be firm with people, but always He was good.”
Ilian considered that for a moment. “It once seemed like mythology to me. God the Creator sends his Son to earth to be born of a virgin. It was so similar to Greek stories of gods and goddesses that I believed it wasn’t true.”
“Satan loves to bring doubt to the world, Ilian. Often the deepest spiritual truths have an immediate appearance of impossibility, but when you look deeper—into the heart of the matter—you will see truth that had formerly eluded you. Your beliefs are not all wrong—they’re just incomplete. There are many people who believe God indifferent. There are many who believe Him involved in every intimate detail. There are those who believe a Savior is unnecessary, and others who know there is no other way to God but through the Son. Jesus Himself told us that.”
“I didn’t know that,” Ilian replied. “It seems to me that Jesus wrote nothing of Himself, and that made me curious.”
“He didn’t have to write about Himself. His very nature caused all of creation to testify on His behalf. The disciples wrote about him as well. They couldn’t help it. Something deep in their soul cried out to acknowledge the wonder and holiness of God incarnate.”
“I have much to learn in order to understand all that you’re saying. My way obviously isn’t serving me well, and neither did it serve my mother. What can I do to come closer to God?”
“We will start with confession and prayer. The Word says if you confess your sins, He is faithful to forgive. Give your heart, and He is faithful to guard it evermore.”
In that moment, there was nothing Ilian wanted more than this.
Kirstin was sitting in front of the fireplace reading when Pastor Persson and Ilian came out of the bedroom. Mormor had been resting her eyes and opened them at the sound of people moving about.
Pastor Persson smiled. “Ilian would like to say something.”
“Of course,” Mormor said. “What is it, son?”
Ilian looked at the pastor and then at the women. Kirstin thought he looked nervous, but then he squared his shoulders and spoke. “I recognize I am a sinner in need of a Savior. I have asked Jesus to be that Savior to me.”
Mormor got to her feet and went to Ilian, hugging him close. “I knew this day would come. I have prayed long and hard for your eyes to open to the truth.”
Ilian nodded. “I am grateful you have prayed for me. Your kindness and love always encourage me. It was . . . well, it was so like the mother’s love I needed.”
Kirstin didn’t know what to do. She was happy to hear this news, but it wouldn’t be proper for her to hug him as Mormor had. She offered him a smile instead and said nothing.
“I told Ilian it was good to confess his need of a Savior to others and his acceptance of Jesus’s sacrifice on his behalf. It helps him to be accountable when people know his decision.” The pastor gave Ilian’s back a gentle pat. “The lost is found, and another sinner has come home. There is great rejoicing in heaven.”
“There’s great rejoicing right here on earth,” Mormor said. “I will make us a wonderful dinner to celebrate.”
Kirstin figured this was something she could join in on. “I’ll help.” She closed her book and put it aside. “It will be a meal fit for a king.”
Chapter 17
Official word from the city regarding the neighborhood properties came on the same day that Ilian’s cast was removed. Both had a sobering effect on the family. It was clear in both situations there was a great deal left to do.
Ilian stumbled around a bit, trying to get his bearings. His leg felt like it belonged to someone else. It was no longer strong and muscular, but rather seemed skinny and weakened in such a way that he found it difficult to gauge his steps.
“Don’t put your full weight on it,” the doctor admonished. “Try it at first with the crutches still bearing more of the weight. You can walk around like this and get used to the feeling of using them. You will restrengthen the leg as you go, and we’ll carefully see how far we can increase your abilities.”
It was disappointing not to be able to doff the cast and just resume his life. Ilian had hoped that would be the case, and having proof that it wasn’t left him less than satisfied. Couldn’t God make right that which had been injured? Lena had said she was praying for complete healing. Was God not listening?
“Are there any other restrictions?” Lena asked the doctor.
“He must do the exercises to strengthen the leg. Only by doing them can he hope to build up those muscles. The leg itself looks good. The cuts all healed nicely, and the bone seems straight. Now it’s a matter of working to regain what was lost.”
That statement stuck in Ilian’s head long after the doctor departed. His father came to the house later for lunch, and Ilian thought of how much work was yet to be done with that lost relationship. He still had no real understanding of what he should do as a new Christian, but it seemed that reconciliation was always at the core of what Christianity stood for. Perhaps in time he would better understand his role in that.
“It’s going to be announced with letters coming to each of the families tomorrow,” Far was saying to Lena.
Ilian had only given the conversation a fraction of his attention, but he knew the city had decided to take the residents’ properties along the bay and river.
“How long will we have to get out?” Lena asked.
Kirstin brought coffee to the table as well as the butter dish. “Yes, how long? Do we have to move in just a few days, or are they giving us weeks, or longer?”
“Thirty days, I believe I heard them say.”
Ilian could see that his father was upset. There was so much to do and so little time. At least now with his cast removed, Ilian would be able to be of use. How much use was yet to be determined.
“A house cannot be built in that short a time,” Lena declared. “I suppose we shall have to get rooms at a boardinghouse or hotel.”
“Or buy a tent,” Far added. “I could order them from St. Paul. There is a good tentmaker there. Oh—there is a man named Mr. Lucas Carson who was at the council meeting. He works for Jay Cooke and has pledged to help us. He felt that the way things were done was unnecessary. He doesn’t appear to like Mr. Webster much more than the rest of us do. Remember the land I pointed out to you when we went to see the ice stacking? He owns it. He has arranged for a meeting tomorrow for anyone who wishes to see the land and discuss purchasing it from him and building a new house.”
“That’s encouraging. It seems Mr. Cooke has only good things in store for our little town,” Lena replied. “I, for one, would like to hear from Mr. Carson and see what he has in mind.”
“I knew you’d feel that way. I thought perhaps all four of us could go. I’ll see if I can borrow Mr. Bemford’s carriage. I’m sure he won’t mind. Mr. Bemford has already made clear that he’s moving back East to live with his daughter. He won’t have any interest in the meeting.”
“That sounds good. You let us know, and we’ll be ready.” Lena touched his shoulder. “Can I get you more to eat?”
“No. I have to get that boat finished. The fewer things we have to move, the better.”
“I wonder . . .” Ilian started, then paused. Everyone looked his way, making him uncomfortable. “Uh . . . that is . . . could you use a hand?”
His father smiled. “Definitely. The faster we finish the boat, the sooner I can get to packing up the tools.”
Ilian nodded. “I’ll get my boots on and join you.”
Far got to his feet. “We’re going to be very busy. Before I get to the boat, I’m going to go talk to Mr. Bemford.”
“We are also going to need some crates for packing,” Lena reminded him. “I wonder if you might be able to find us some.”
“I’ll find them, or we’ll make them,” Far replied. “Mr. Carson said he has materials we can use—things left over from railroad shipments.”
“Mr. Carson sounds like quite the generous soul,” Kirstin murmured.
“He’s a good man, to be sure. He worked hard to get us the railroad, and I believe he and Mr. Cooke are putting a great deal of money into the canal and other improvements. They believe in Duluth and want it to be a wonderful city.”
“Well, God bless them both,” Lena replied. “The world needs more men like them.”
Kirstin wasn’t sure why, but she felt drawn to the workshop where the Mackinaw boat awaited completion. She ran her hand along the side of the hull, amazed at how smooth it had been sanded. Her people had all been farmers, although her brother was a furniture maker, thanks to training from their grandfather. Both of Kirstin’s grandfathers had enjoyed working with their hands—building and creating.
The door opened, and Kirstin watched Ilian hobble through. He seemed to focus on each step as if it took all of his effort and strength.
“Are you all right?” She went to him. She could see the muck that coated the lower half of the crutches. Spring was making a mess of things.
“It’s difficult to get around out there. With the ground starting to thaw, I’m having trouble with my footing. It’s like learning to walk all over again.”
“Come sit. I’ll get the stove going.” She went immediately to the stove and opened the door. There were a few embers still burning, and with some kindling, she was able to build a fire. Soon the warmth began to spread, and she smiled. “There, now we’ll be cozy.” She left the door open to let out the maximum heat.
“It’s nice. Thank you.”
“Have you come to work on the boat?”
“Ja. I figured we must be about this work, or it won’t get done in time.”
“In time to be thrown off the property?” She frowned and looked away. “Sorry, but I’m not very happy about this. Poor Mormor. She lost Morfar here and Uncle Per, and now she’ll lose her home—the only one she’s had in America. It seems so unfair.”
; “It is unfair, but much in life can be.” Ilian rubbed his thigh.
“Is it hurting you?”
He nodded. “A bit. More of a dull ache than full pain. The doctor said I would probably notice it when storms were coming up. I suppose we’ll see some rain or snow later.”
Kirstin moved away from the stove and toyed with the tools on the workbench. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
Silence fell between them. Kirstin wanted nothing more than to quiz him on his decision to become a Christian, but she didn’t want to make him too uncomfortable.
“You seem anxious. Is it the move?” Ilian asked.
“Partly.” She didn’t look at him but continued to touch one tool and then another. Morfar usually kept a very neat workshop, but it was evident he’d left without putting things away that morning.
“What else is troubling you?”
She stopped and looked at him. His expression was full of compassion and kindness. He didn’t look at all condemning or teasing.
“I suppose everything feels a little out of hand.” She forced a smile. “All the packing and the moving. Domar doesn’t even know what’s happening yet.”
“He’ll learn soon enough. Far told me there’s going to be an agreement between the logging camp and the sawmill. They’re going to keep the product local for the new houses—the ones that will be built for those who want to move to the new location. It’s something else Mr. Carson arranged.”
“And for those who don’t wish to move?”
Ilian shrugged. “You know as well as I do that the people will have to move. Where they go will be entirely up to them.”
She nodded. “It makes me very angry. I don’t approve.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure the mayor of Duluth is heartbroken at your lack of approval.”
Kirstin couldn’t help but smile. “I know. I’m being silly, and that’s not something I’m usually accused of being.”
“No, I can well imagine not. You’ve always been very serious since I met you.”
Forever My Own Page 17
