Clowning Around

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Joe blinked. He’d never thought of tears being related to strength.

  Pastor Cummings held the Bible out to Joe. “Here—open to Ecclesiastes, chapter three. Then read verses one to four.”

  It took a few seconds for Joe to locate Ecclesiastes. He read the passage aloud:

  “ ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. . . .A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’ ” He paused and looked at the pastor. “I guess I’ve never read those verses before, or if I have they never hit home.”

  “The Lord reveals the meaning of His Word when the need arises. Perhaps you weren’t ready to accept the truth before today.”

  Joe swallowed hard. Pastor Cummings was right; he hadn’t been ready. Even now, when he’d been hit with the truth, he was having a difficult time dealing with it. He’d spent so many years hiding behind his clown mask, refusing to show any emotion other than laughter, and even that was forced at times. He felt like a phony, realizing how often he’d clowned around or cracked jokes when deep inside he felt like weeping. Part of him wanted to give in to his tears. Another part was afraid if he did he might never stop crying.

  “Mom asked the Lord to forgive her and committed her life to Him shortly before she died,” Joe said. “Even though I knew God had forgiven her for treating me so badly, I guess I never forgave her.” Joe lowered his head. “I’ve always felt guilty about it, so maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been hiding behind humor.”

  “You’ve discovered a lot in our last few sessions,” the pastor said softly. “It will take time for you to put it into the proper perspective. For now, though, pat yourself on the back and rest in the Lord. He will show you how and when to cry if you need to.”

  Joe nodded, feeling as if his burden was much lighter than when he’d entered the pastor’s study. Maybe someday he would even be ready to discuss his feelings with Lois.

  ❧

  The month of January and the first days of February drifted by like a feather floating in the breeze. Lois kept busy with her secretarial duties at the church during the week, and she spent most weekends helping Tabby redecorate their guest room, turning it into a nursery for the soon-coming baby. It kept her hands busy and her mind off Joe Richey. Since they’d said good-bye on Christmas Day, she’d heard from him only twice. Once he’d called to tell her how much he liked the cute tie she’d given him, and today she’d received a Valentine’s card from him in the mail.

  “Hey, Sis. You look as if you’re a thousand miles away.”

  Tabby’s sweet voice pulled Lois out of her musings, and she swivelled her chair around to face her sister.

  “You’re good at sneaking up on me,” Lois said with a grin.

  Tabby ambled across the room and lowered herself into the chair beside Lois’s desk. She patted her stomach. “I’m practicing for motherhood. Aren’t moms supposed to be good at sneaking up on their children and catching them red-handed?”

  Lois chuckled. “You’re right, but I was only typing a memo for Pastor Hanson. So you didn’t catch me with any red color on my hands,” she added, smiling.

  “It looked more like you were daydreaming to me,” Tabby said in a teasing tone. “Unless you’ve learned how to make that computer keyboard work without touching the keys.”

  “I guess I was caught red-handed,” Lois admitted with a sigh.

  “What, or shall I say whom, were you thinking about?”

  Lois handed the Valentine to her sister. “This came in today’s mail.”

  Tabby’s eyes opened wide as she read the verse inside the card. “Sounds like the guy’s got it bad, and it’s a far cry from the funny clown hat he gave you for Christmas.”

  Lois lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Sure—that’s why he never calls or comes around anymore.”

  “Maybe he’s been busy with performances. Entertaining is what he does for a living, you know.” With her finger, Tabby traced the outline of the red heart on the card. “This Valentine could be a foreshadow of something to come, you know.”

  Lois was silent then finally said, “Yes, it could be.”

  Tabby stepped over to Lois’s chair. “There are only two ways to handle a man.” She laughed. “Since nobody knows what either of them is, I suggest you give the guy a call and thank him for the beautiful card.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Lois murmured. “But I’ve called him a lot over the last few months, and I don’t want to seem pushy.”

  Tabby hugged her sister. “There’s nothing pushy about a thank-you.”

  “True.” Lois smiled. “Okay, I’ll call him tonight.”

  “Good for you.” Tabby started toward the door. “I need to get back to the day care. I’ve taken a longer break than I’d planned.” She stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Say! Do you smell something?”

  Lois drew in a breath. “Smoke. It smells like there’s a fire somewhere in the building!”

  Twenty-four

  Joe had battled the desire to see Lois for several weeks. But today was Valentine’s Day, and he’d decided to take action. She would no doubt have received his card by now, so he hoped the sentimental verse might pave the way.

  As he headed toward Tacoma on the freeway, all he could think about was the need to make things right with Lois. Through counseling with Pastor Cummings and studying the Scriptures, he’d finally forgiven his mother and come to grips with his past. Now he wanted to share everything with Lois. He hoped she would be receptive.

  A short while later, Joe drove down the street toward Lois’s church. His heart lurched when he saw two fire trucks parked in front of the building. As he pulled his pickup to the curb, he could see firemen scurrying about with hoses and other pieces of equipment. Billows of acrid smoke poured from the church.

  Joe sprinted from his truck across the lawn, only to be stopped by a fireman. “You can’t go in there, Sir. A fire started in the janitor’s closet, and it’s spread throughout most of the building.”

  “My girlfriend—she works here,” Joe said between breaths. He would do anything to find Lois. “I have to get inside!”

  The fireman put his hand on Joe’s arm. “It’s not safe. We’re doing everything possible to put the fire out, so please stay out of the way.”

  Joe dashed to the back of the church, thinking he could slip in that door unnoticed. He had to find Lois and see if she was all right. Others might also be trapped in the church.

  He had almost reached the door when two firemen stepped between him and the building. “Where do you think you’re going?” one of the men asked.

  “I need to get inside. My girlfriend—”

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” the other fireman shouted. “There’s been a lot of damage to the structure. Most of the fire is out, but it’s not safe in there.”

  Joe looked around helplessly, wondering if he could get inside another way. “What about the people inside?” he asked, feeling his sense of panic taking control.

  He filled his lungs with air and prayed. Dear Lord, please let Lois and everyone else be okay.

  Joe felt someone touch his arm. “I thought I saw your truck parked out front. What are you doing here?”

  He spun around at the sound of Lois’s voice, and the sight of her caused tears to flood Joe’s eyes. His stomach knotted as he fought to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to wash over him. He didn’t want to cry, but the tears came anyway. He was so relieved to see that Lois wasn’t inside the church and appeared to be okay. “Thank God you’re not hurt!” he exclaimed.

  She smiled at him and reached up to wipe away the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. “Joe, you’re crying.”

  He nodded and grinned at her. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He grabbed Lois around the waist and lifted her up, whirling them both around. “Thank You, Lord!” he shouted. “Thank You a thousand times over!”

  “Put me down, you silly man! I’m getting dizzy,” Lois said brea
thlessly.

  Joe set her on the ground then placed both hands on her shoulders and stared into the depths of her indigo eyes. “Are you really all right, and did they get everyone out in time?”

  She nodded, and her eyes pooled with tears. “Everyone is fine, but the building isn’t. I’m afraid what’s left of it may have to be torn down.”

  “The church can be rebuilt,” Joe said, “but human life is not replaceable.”

  “You’re so right,” Lois agreed. “When the fire broke out, Tabby and I were in my office. Our first thought was about the day care kids who were in the basement.”

  Joe felt immediate concern. “Were they hurt?”

  She shook her head. “Not a single child. Almost everyone was out of the building before the fire trucks even arrived.”

  “When I got here and saw all the commotion, then looked around and didn’t see you, I was afraid you were trapped inside the church,” Joe said, feeling as if he might cry again.

  Lois smiled up at him. “It’s nice to know you care so much.”

  Joe clasped her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks to my pastor’s wise counsel and God’s Word, I’m learning to put the past behind and show my emotions. That’s why I drove over here, Lois. I wanted to tell you about it.” He pulled a bunch of balloons from his jacket pocket and held them up. “I also wanted to give you these.”

  She tipped her head to one side. “Some deflated balloons?”

  He chuckled and wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his blue jeans. “Well, I’d planned to show up at your office with a bouquet of balloon flowers—like the ones I made you the night we first met.” Joe cleared his throat. “I, well, I came here to ask you a question.”

  “What question?”

  Joe felt jittery all of a sudden. If he weren’t careful, he would slip into the old Joe—the clown who didn’t know how to show his real feelings.

  He stuffed all but one balloon back in his pocket then blew up that one and twisted it into a wiener dog. He handed the pooch to Lois, bowed low at the waist and said, “Lois Johnson, will you be my housewife—I mean, maid—I mean—”

  Lois stepped away, a puzzled look on her face. “You’re such a big kidder, Joe.”

  ❧

  Joe watched Lois walk next door to the senior pastor’s house. She’d thought he was clowning around when he tried to propose, and now she was probably mad at him.

  Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of losing her. He had meant for the proposal to be sweet and tender, and he’d botched it up but good, giving her a balloon dog then asking her to be his housewife. “What a jerk she must think I am,” Joe mumbled, staring down at his feet. “What can I do now?”

  “Go after her,” he heard a voice whisper behind him. He turned to find Tabby standing near him. “Tell her you weren’t kidding but just got nervous and messed up your presentation.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hope she’ll believe me.”

  Tabby patted Joe on the back and started across the lawn toward the parsonage.

  Joe sucked in a breath and offered up a quick prayer. Tabby was right; he did need to do something—quickly.

  ❧

  Lois couldn’t believe Joe was crying one minute, telling her he’d been in counseling and was learning to express his feelings, and the next minute he was joking about something as solemn as marriage. In light of the seriousness of the church fire, he was probably just trying to get her to chuckle. She shouldn’t have been so sensitive. She wished she hadn’t walked away so abruptly without letting him explain.

  Tabby had entered the parsonage a few minutes earlier and gone inside with the others. Rather than talking about the fire with everyone, Lois was sitting on the front porch, trying to sort things out. She closed her eyes and was about to pray when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Lois, I need to talk to you.”

  She opened her eyes as Joe took a seat beside her. He was smiling, but she saw the tension in his jaw. His smile seemed fake, like the one he painted on when he dressed as a clown.

  He leaned closer, his face inches from hers, and Lois let out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry about the dumb proposal and balloon dog,” he murmured. “Would you take a walk with me so we can talk?”

  She hesitated for a moment, uncertain what to say.

  Joe grabbed Lois’s hand and pulled her gently to a standing position.

  She looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m taking you someplace special.”

  Lois was tempted to resist. She couldn’t explain the funny feeling she got every time she saw Joe. At some moments, like now, she had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms.

  They left the pastor’s yard and walked in silence, until the small chapel behind the church came into view. It was used for intimate weddings, baptisms, and foot washing. “At least this building didn’t catch on fire,” Lois said as Joe opened the door and led her inside.

  Joe nodded and motioned her to take a seat on the front pew. Then he knelt on one knee in front of her.

  She squirmed uneasily and held her breath. What was he up to now?

  “I love you, Lois,” he whispered. “I know I’m not the ideal catch, and I’ll probably never make a lot of money, but if you’ll have me as your husband, I promise to love you for the rest of my life. Will you please marry me?”

  Lois’s vision clouded with tears as she smiled at Joe. “Yes. A thousand times, yes!”

  His face broke into a huge grin. “Can I take that as a yes?”

  She chuckled and winked at him. “It’s a definite yes.”

  Joe stood and helped Lois to her feet then pulled her into his arms. “From now on we can clown around together, but I promise to get serious sometimes too.”

  She laid her head against his chest and sighed contentedly. “I’d like that, Joe. I want to spend the rest of my life telling others about God’s love, and I want to be the kind of wife who loves you no matter how much you clown around.”

  About the Author

  WANDA E. BRUNSTETTER lives in Central Washington with her husband who is a pastor. She has two grown children and six grand-children. Her hobbies include doll repairing, sewing, ventriloquism, stamping, reading, and gardening. Wanda and her husband have a puppet ministry, which they often share at other churches, Bible camps, and Bible schools. Wanda invites you to visit her website: www.wandabrunstetter.com.

  Dedication

  To Gordon, Kathy, Dell, and Bev—special friends who are great at clowning around.

  A note from the Author:

  I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:

  Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Author Relations

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