by Gayle Roper
Oh, dear God, it hasn’t been enough for me, has it? All these years, it hasn’t been enough!
As I struggled to understand the implications of Jake’s insight, Becky arrived. “Rose?” she called from the front room. “Rose? Trevor?”
Sam jumped as though shocked. “Becky,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.
“In Jake’s rooms, Beck,” I called. “Come on in.”
Sam got to his feet and started toward the door to the main house. “Becky?” His voice had volume this time. “Becky, sweetheart?”
“Samuel? Samuel?” Becky burst through Jake’s doorway, hope alight in her face. “Samuel!”
She threw herself at him and they met in the middle of the room, clinging like they’d never part.
Chapter 10
Jake and I sat in the main living room, letting Becky and Sam have some privacy. I kept sniffing and tearing, remembering the look on Becky’s face when she saw Sam. Jake just looked at me, eyebrow raised.
“You have a cold heart,” I accused.
He raised his eyebrow higher and gave me a smoldering look that took my breath.
“Jake,” I sighed, my heart tripping over itself.
Immediately his face altered. “Yes, Rose?” he said very matter-of-factly.
I stared at him, so cool and in control. The man was going to make me crazy.
“A cold heart,” I repeated.
Again he smiled with enough heat to scorch paper. “Me?” He was all innocence.
I had to clear my throat before I could answer. This time I was unemotional enough to please him at his most persnickety, at least on the surface. “Yes, you. You have no sense of the romantic.”
He turned and looked out the window for a few seconds. When he looked back at me, his eyes were dark with longing. “You know that’s not true.”
As I searched for some way to respond that wouldn’t make him withdraw, the front door opened and Esther walked in.
“Where’s Becky?” she said. “Her mother’s asking for her.”
Becky answered the question by appearing in the doorway to Jake’s apartment, Sam right behind her. But Becky didn’t see Esther; her eyes sought her son. She came to me and took the sleeping Trevor. She bent and kissed his brow, his cheek. Then she turned to Sam.
“This is your son,” she said proudly, laying the baby in Sam’s arms.
Sam looked startled. “This is our Trevor? I thought he was Jake and Rose’s baby.”
I turned a fiery red and couldn’t even look in Jake’s direction. Becky looked at me and smiled. “They aren’t married,” she whispered to Sam. She blushed. “But then, neither are we.”
Sam smiled at her, love all over his face. “It’s just a matter of time, sweetheart. We’ll see how fast it can happen in Pennsylvania. I’m not letting anyone take you away from me again, believe me.”
Then he turned his attention to his son, kissing his head, stroking his cheek.
“Becky, he’s beautiful,” he whispered in a choked voice. He looked at her. “You’re beautiful.”
She glowed, and the little family drifted back into Jake’s rooms.
Esther stared after them.
“That was Samuel?” she whispered. She looked unhappy, distressed.
I nodded. “He showed up this morning, looking for Becky. He followed her parents here.”
“But he’s meidung. He shouldn’t be here,” she said, agitated. She had lost all color and appeared ready to weep.
I didn’t know what to do. I understood Esther’s concern, though I thought both the concern and the reason for it extreme, and I certainly didn’t want to add to the emotional struggles she was already having. I also didn’t want to offend Mary and John, who had been nothing but kind to me. However, I wasn’t about to tell Sam to leave.
I turned, as I found myself doing more and more these days, to Jake.
“Esther, look at me,” Jake said, easily taking the problem on his broad shoulders.
She glanced at him warily. I could almost read her mind. Here was a man who would be meidung too if he had taken his vows. He had just been smart enough not to, knowing his own heart for the rebellious thing it was. His family had also been smart enough not to force him.
Jake’s voice was soft, for he too understood her distress. Here was a situation the rules didn’t cover, and she was truly on the horns of a dilemma. The simple life had suddenly become very complex.
“No one in your district even knows Sam,” Jake said. “He’s under the ban in Ohio where he lives, not here. Here he is an English man just like me. Here no one has to know he’s meidung.”
She stared at him. I doubted she knew the phrase situation ethics, but if she did, she’d be screaming it.
“Say you didn’t know Sam was Becky’s boyfriend and you didn’t know he was shunned. If I brought him home to dinner with the family, would you be polite? Would you eat at the same table with him? Would you talk with him and give him a piece of that wonderful apple pie of yours?”
She nodded. “I would always show hospitality. If I didn’t know.”
“Then think of him that way, okay? Think of him as my friend, an Englischer named Sam Hershberger. Because I’m inviting him to dinner.”
I looked at Jake. He was inviting Sam to dinner? Why? To rebel against the Amish strictures just a bit more? To force Esther to bend a bit? Or to be kind to Sam? How about all the above?
“I’m even going to ask him to spend the night if he wants to sleep on my sofa. In fact, he can spend every night here until he and Becky marry, if he wants to.”
I looked at Esther and saw she was ready to cry. Too many difficult things were hitting her all at once. I went to her and hugged her.
“He loves God, Esther,” I said. “He was just telling us how God took away the hatred in his heart and taught him to forgive. Isn’t a man’s heart what counts?”
“Yes, I guess. Maybe. No. There’s the Ordnung.” She looked at me in despair. “I don’t know.” She covered her face with her hands.
Elam walked in at that moment.
“Esther!” He hurried to her. “What’s wrong?”
She stiffened at his approach, and since I still had a hand on her shoulder, I felt a shiver of emotion pass over her. She turned away from him. “Nothing’s wrong.” She swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine.”
He stood awkwardly, not believing her but not certain what to do about it. He looked at me, questions in his eyes. I merely smiled. I wasn’t going to make things any easier for him as he struggled with his feelings for this wonderful woman.
After studying the toes of his boots for a few minutes, he seemed to remember why he came. “Rachel is worried about Becky and Trevor,” he announced to the room at large. Then he looked at Esther who still wouldn’t look at him. His voice grew soft. “And Mom is worried about you, so I came to get you.” He stared at her bowed head and the curve of her neck beneath its black bonnet. Then he blinked. “Both of you, I mean.”
She nodded and walked to the sink. She turned on the cold water and wet a cloth that sat there. “In a minute.” She held the cloth to her face. “In a minute.”
“I’ll get Becky,” I said and hurried into Jake’s apartment.
Becky, Sam, and Trevor sat on the sofa, a little family clustered together for the first time. Sam was playing with his son’s hands, reveling in the tiny fingers wrapping around his large, calloused ones.
“Stay there,” I ordered, though they showed no signs of moving. I raced upstairs and got my camera. As soon as I got back to Jake’s living room, I began snapping. I took pictures until even Becky held up a hand signaling enough.
“Becky,” I said as I flicked through the pictures, showing them to her and Sam. “You’ve got to go back to your grandparents’ farm. They’re expecting you. They sent Esther and Elam for you. If you don’t return, Annie will be terribly hurt. Or they’ll send someone else to get you.”
“No!” Sam turned to Becky. “You can’t go bac
k. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He put his arm around her, holding her tight against his side.
She smiled at him, eyes aglow with love. “It’s okay, Samuel. I’ll only be there until we make arrangements to marry. And Rose is right about Grandmother Annie. She has been so kind. Trevor and I will be back here tomorrow morning for you to see us.”
“I’ll babysit the little guy while you two go get your blood tests and do the paperwork for a marriage license,” I said.
“I’ll come with you now,” Sam said to Becky as if he hadn’t even heard me. “I don’t care what they think.”
“You can’t, Samuel.” Becky rested her hand on his jaw. “Mama and Papa would be so upset! Today isn’t the day to face them, not just after Grandfather Nate’s funeral.”
Sam sighed. “It’s hard to care about upsetting them after what they’ve put you and me through these past months.”
Becky’s arms slid around his waist. “I know, you poor guy. But you know I’m right. Today has been very hard for my mother.”
He nodded. “Okay. I agree. You have to go. I want to do things in a way that honors God and starts to build good feelings, not momentarily satisfies vengeful desires.” He took Becky’s hand and looked her in the eyes. “We’re going to do things God’s way from now on, Becky.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You couldn’t have said anything that would make me happier. I love you, Samuel.”
She took Trevor from Sam and started for the door. Sam made to follow her, but I shook my head.
“Jake’s brother is out there. Let him meet you as a friend of Jake’s, not as Becky’s boyfriend. There’s no sense putting him in the same theological quandary over your shunning as we did Esther.”
Sam paused, thought, and then nodded. He turned Becky toward him, kissed her hard, then leaned over Trevor and kissed his head. “Sleep well, little guy. I love you.” He gave Becky a final hug. “And I love you, Beck.”
When she and I walked into the main house living room, Elam stood looking at Esther who stood looking at the floor. Elam glanced at us and then took a second look at Becky. She glowed, as incandescent as a brilliant chandelier. He frowned and looked at me. I smiled innocently back.
The three of them left, Elam in the middle with Becky floating on one side and Esther studying the ground on the other. Elam himself looked straight ahead.
Sam strode into the room and watched out a window. As the three turned into the lane, Becky glanced back over her shoulder and smiled with enough wattage to power an Amishman’s household for a year. She held Trevor on her shoulder and waved his little fist. Sam grinned and waved back.
Hours later up in my bedroom I finally had time to consider the conversation about forgiving myself that I’d had with Jake and Sam that afternoon. Was I making myself equal with or more important than God when I insisted I forgive myself? I certainly had no conscious desire to rival God’s authority and person. Unlike Lucifer, I did not want to be like the Most High.
I thought long and hard about what the Bible said about forgiveness. There were lots of verses about God forgiving us and lots more verses that commanded us to forgive each other. What verses told us to forgive ourselves? I wracked my memories from a lifetime of Sunday school and church. Surely I’d heard someone somewhere preach on such an important topic. When nothing came to mind, I looked in my study Bible and in my concordance. I reached a surprising and unsettling conclusion.
There was nothing in the Bible about forgiving one’s self.
As that thought crystallized, I wondered why not. Why didn’t God tell us to forgive ourselves? Didn’t He realize we would feel guilty over the heinous things we did, the sins of commission and omission that haunted us? That we would need absolution before our souls could find rest?
The only possible reason He didn’t tell us to forgive ourselves was that His forgiveness bought for us by Christ on Calvary was all that we needed. In His economy, we needed not to forgive ourselves but to truly accept His forgiveness. Part of that forgiveness was remembering that Jesus is the Great Burden Bearer. For my yoke fits perfectly, and the burden I give you is light. My burden had been heavy and hard for years.
But, Lord, what I did had such terrible consequences! How can You just let it go? How can You just remove my feelings of guilt? Don’t I need to suffer?
A Spirit-whisper softly seemed to say, “Sin is sin, Rose. And offense is offense. A lie needs just as much forgiveness from a holy God as a murder. An angry comment is as offensive to Him as adultery. What you did or didn’t do is no better or worse than what thousands upon thousands of others have done. The ground is level at the foot of the Cross.”
But, God, it’s too easy, and I’m too undeserving!
The thought slammed through me that I sounded just like Jake. He couldn’t accept the forgiveness that brings salvation; I couldn’t accept the forgiveness that was already mine as a believer. I had been able to accept the idea that I was forgiven eternally, but I hadn’t been able to believe that I was guilt-free now and on a daily basis, probably because I had the consequences of my actions ever before me.
I felt my heart swell as I finally understood the aspect of God’s forgiveness that had eluded me for so long. God forgave me in Christ both today and forever. I was totally clean and clear. All my burdens had been borne by Christ, even the burden of being careless to the point that I caused my father’s and sister’s deaths. While I might have to live with the consequences, I didn’t have to live with the guilt.
Everyone who believes in Him is freed from all guilt and declared right with God.
I lay back on my bed, eyes brimming with tears. Release! Relief! Freedom! I fell asleep thanking my Burden Bearer.
My cell phone woke me from deep slumber at 1:35 a.m. I squinted at the clock as I climbed out of bed and clicked open the phone.
“Rose,” a sobbing voice said.
“Becky” I went weak in the legs and cold all over. I sank to the bed.
She didn’t say anything more, just sobbed.
“I’ll be right there.” I hung up and called Dr. Braeborn.
“This is Rose Martin.”
“Rose?” I heard the disbelief in his voice. “I thought you were—I mean, I heard on the news—” He couldn’t make himself say it.
“It’s a long story, but I’m fine. I’m calling about Trevor Stoltzfus.”
“Bring him in no matter what,” Dr. Braeborn said. “I’ll meet you at Lancaster General.”
I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I threw on some sneakers, grabbed my coat, and ran for the car. I drove down the road and raced up the Stoltzfus’s front walk, my emergency medical bag in hand.
The Stoltzfus house was dark except for a coal oil lamp in the living room. I let myself in and saw Annie seated in her rocker, Trevor in her arms, and Becky in her nightgown on her knees beside her, her head in Annie’s lap. One of Annie’s hands stroked the weeping girl’s head.
Annie looked at me with such sorrow in her eyes that the breath went out of me. I felt a spiral of pain whip through my chest, settling in my breastbone.
I walked to the chair and held out my hand to the baby. He was already cold to the touch.
“Let me look at him,” I said to Annie.
She nodded and wordlessly handed me the infant. I took him to the kitchen table and removed his blankets, then his clothes, then his diaper. His little body looked so fragile, so perfect except for the great weal of a scar on his chest. I turned him over and studied him. I could see no external cause of death. I put his clothes back on and took him to Becky.
“Dr. Braeborn says we’re to bring him, no matter what,” I said softly.
Annie rose and took her great-grandson from Becky. “Go get dressed, child.”
She held Trevor while Becky hurried to the beautiful blue and yellow bedroom.
“Thank Herr Gott that I got to love mein bubbli,” Annie’s voice trembled. She sank to her rocker.
&nb
sp; “Do you want me to get Rachel?” I asked. “So you won’t be alone when we leave?”
She shook her head. “We decided not to wake Rachel and the others,” she said. “They wouldn’t understand.” She laid her warm, wrinkled cheek on Trevor’s cold one. “Becky knows I loved him. She doesn’t know I would go up and hold him when Nate was in the fields and she was busy. I didn’t mean to sin, but he was mein bubbli. No matter how much I held him, it was never enough.”
She sighed from a place of pain deep in her heart. “Now it has to be enough.” Tears trailed down her cheeks, following the furrows of the years, dripping onto the still body in her arms.
Becky appeared and took Trevor. Her hand curled around his head.
“Schloff, bubbli, schloff” she whispered, her voice breaking. “May your dreams be forever fine.”
Annie stood in the door and watched us as we walked to my car. I held Trevor while Becky got in and buckled her seatbelt. Then I placed the child in her arms. I got in and turned the key.
We had barely left the farm lane when Becky said, “Call Samuel.”
I nodded and got out my cell phone. I dialed Jake.
“Hello? Is that you, Rose?” said a very alert voice.
I started. “How did you know?”
“I heard you leave. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Jake.” I started to cry so hard I could barely talk, let alone drive.
“Rose? Is it—?”
“It’s T-Trevor.” I couldn’t go on.
After a brief pause Jake asked, “Dead?”
I sniffed. “Yes.” That huge stone pressing on my breastbone was getting heavier by the moment. I couldn’t even imagine Becky’s pain. “Becky and I are on our way to LGH. She wants Sam to come.”
“Sure she does. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
I hung up and turned onto 340. I barely noticed an Amishman racing down the road on his scooter. It wasn’t until we went under the railroad underpass and I saw another man on his scooter as well as three cars with lights flashing that I realized there was a calamity somewhere else tonight, too. The volunteer firemen were responding to a call.
