~*~
Granny continued to knit, as her little black dog, Bea, warmed her feet. But as she knit one, purled one, she felt the loss of Nathan topple into her heart. Ach, I will miss him, and Lavina so much. Did Lavina come from a home as bad as Charles? Would Charles be their new Lavina to love and see healed?
As her mind raced, she put down her knitting needles, picked Bea up, holding her close, and prayed:
Lord Jesus,
You’ve come to heal the brokenhearted and bring peace into our hearts. A peace that passes human understanding. I’m needing it now. You give and take away, and I know you’re God and know best, but I’m heartsick. Hope deferred makes the heart sick, as your Word says. And I had high hopes of Nathan and Lavina living right down the road. Heal my heart, Lord.
And Father, help Charles. Is he like Black Beauty, a broken boy? A teen that had no one who brushed his fur or put a blanket on him when cold, like a good master did for a horse? Pave the way for justice to be done, and please let Marge be his foster mamm.
And Lord, danki for this new home for unloved, misplaced boys. Charles Dickens spoke out against the cruel treatment of children in his books, and the Quakers continue to do so to this day. Help us all do our part to speak up for those who have no voice.
In Jesus name,
Amen
Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoyed this episode of Amish Knit Lit Circle. As I read Black Beauty, I thought of all the hurt going on in this world we live in, and as usual, pray to find out what is my part in bringing healing. For my husband, Tim, and me, it has been sponsoring children through Compassion International and New Missions. If you go to my website, www.karenannavogel.com there are links to both ministries. We also are looking to take in another rescue dog, most likely a big old Lab like our Jack was. (R.I.P. old friend). I continue to make prayer shawls for the terminally ill, also.
But God has made us all different. I’m not a cat person, but maybe you are and there are stray cats you can adopt. Or maybe you’re a better cook than me, (most likely, you are) and can take meals to ailing people. The causes are endless and so is our time and energy, but I know God uses willing hearts and will lead.
God bless you all, my friends!
Fudgy Brownies
4 square unsweetened chocolate
2 sticks of butter, cubed
4 eggs
1 ½ c. sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1 c. flour
1 c. chocolate chips
1 c. chopped nuts
Melt chocolate and butter until smooth. Beat eggs, sugar and vanilla for two minutes (by hand) and combine with chocolate mixture. Fold in flour, not overbeating. Pour into a greased pan. Sprinkle with chocolate chips and nuts. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.
Episode 7
Pilgrim’s Progress
Granny sipped her morning coffee, glimpsing outside to see a magenta sky, a glorious sunrise. Having so many people coming over today, it being three weeks before Easter and unity key to celebrate without delay, she and Jeb had to do what Bishop Mast and Sarah had to do last year… help people with unforgiveness towards someone in the Gmay. To wash each other’s feet on Easter during their day-long service, ill will would ruin this peaceful day.
Jeb sauntered over to the table, Bea in tow. “Goot morning.”
“You look awful.”
“It’s hard to sleep when you’re wrestling with God…”
Granny knew Jeb sometimes begrudged the fact that he was bishop at his age, and had words with God. They ‘reasoned together’ like the Good Book said to do until understanding was given. “Are you ready for the visitors?”
“Jah, I am. ‘Tis goot to be a servant of God and help mend fences between folks.” He sat Bea down on her little blue rug. “Do you think she’s lonely? Missing Angel?”
“Nee, she’s fine. Janice is talking about having pet therapy at the new house of boys.” She sighed. “When I go past that place, I picture Nathan and Lavina living there with lots of kinner. But, it just won’t be.” Granny got up, opened her black oven door, took out a platter full of eggs, bacon, and English muffins and placed it in front of Jeb.
“Danki,” he said. “We may not see Nathan’s kinner grow up, but we’ll see Charles, once he moves in. And so many other young men in need.”
Granny slowly poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down. “And Clark’s back. He’ll run it along with Joe.”
“What happened to his landscaping? Didn’t he go to college for that?”
“Jah, but Janice and Jerry think he’d be goot to teach the boys how to grow their own food and raise animals and whatnot….” Tears pooled in Granny’s eyes and she swatted at them. “So tired of these sore throats. Choking back tears makes me –”
Jeb gripped her hand. “Deborah, love, I know this whole thing with the Baptist buying Nathan’s house has you sad, but we move on, jah? Forward?”
Granny groaned. “Well, truth be told, I finished Pilgrim’s Progress this morning and you’re right; it’s goot. But no rest for the weary…”
“What?”
“Well, Christian goes on and on, falling into harm, pain, suffering. It’s life I suppose.”
Jeb poked at his eggs with his fork. “But there were resting places all along the journey. Didn’t you notice that?”
Granny shook her head. “Seemed like one uphill climb to me.”
“Ach, one of my favorite parts is when Pilgrim goes up Difficulty Hill and rests at the arbor the Lord provided.”
Granny’s brow furrowed. “It’s such a short time though. And only a few sentences describe it.”
“It doesn’t say how long Christian stayed there, but it was enough for him to be refreshed.” He grinned. “I’m preaching to myself. I need rest for today, and I plan to take breaks and go to the arbor God put in my heart. Stay and dine with the Lord for a while.” He got up and grabbed his Bible from the China closet door. Flipping though, Jeb found his place and read:
“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20.” He lifted his hands in praise. “Deborah Weaver, I thank God for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you pick me up.”
“How?”
“Well, you’re my leaning post, jah? I’m yours. You’re struggling about missing Nathan and it makes me try to help you. But in helping you, I help myself.”
“You mean you feel blessed to help someone else?”
“Nee, you fret so much, it makes me find scriptures to comfort you, and they help me, too.”
Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You fret, too… old man.”
He groaned. “I know. Just ‘playing with your head,’ or kidding, like the English say?”
Granny didn’t even try hiding her smile. “Marge and Joe say the oddest things, don’t they?”
“Jah, they do, but we sound funny to them.” Jeb took a long swig of coffee. “Mona will be here soon. Best get to praying.”
Granny took his hand. “She’s not a burden anymore, you know.”
“Jah, from what I hear, she’s in need of help. So, let’s pray.”
~*~
Colleen hit the nail with the hammer five times and then turned and smirked. “See, women can pound a nail in as well as a guy.” She giggled. “It’s fun having you back with us, Clark.”
“And I’ll be able to live here, rent-free, since Nathan sold it all so cheap.”
“You and Joe will have your hands full, helping the foster boys.” She looked up at his jet black hair. “You’re salt and pepper now, white paint everywhere.” Colleen grabbed a rag. “Bend down. There’s a glob I can get out right now.”
Clark obeyed and Colleen wiped paint from his hair.
“So, us two former homeless bums will both be settling in Smicksburg.”
Colleen pulled at one of his long locks of hair. “Speak for yourself
.” She turned him around to get the paint off the back of his head. “You know I found my Amish grandma and all. And I’m turning plain.”
“Well, it’s not Halloween, so I figured that much.”
“Halloween?”
“You’re in plain clothes. And Jerry and Janice told me all about it. About Hezekiah, too…”
The lilt in his voice fell, and Colleen’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d known that Clark had liked her in the past, but she figured it was a fleeting thing.
He turned to her. “Are you sure about Hezekiah?”
Colleen hesitated, not wanting to hurt him. She looked into his dark eyes. Eyes that were now confident, having gotten his degree in horticulture, no longer homeless, and something else. What was it?
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”
“What?”
“I just asked you if you’re sure about Hezekiah and you said nothing. “
She clasped her hands and placed them on her heart. “Oh, I love him. No doubts at all. I just don’t want to…”
“Hurt me?” Clark reached for her hand. “We had so many goot talks and I thought you felt something for me. You wrote.”
“I write to everyone now, since I don’t have a phone.” She withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry, Clark, if you took it a different way.”
Clark tilted his head to one side, eyeing her clothing. “Colleen, seriously, you have no doubts about being Amish?”
“I’ve lived plain for months now, and will be baptized on Sunday. I’ll take my vow to the church. I love everything about the Amish.”
Clark sidestepped over to the corner of the room, as if dancing, and put a CD into his boom box and soon a light Jazz song rang out. Clark knew she loved Kenny G. Did he purposefully bring this CD they’d often listened to in his car to tempt her?
“I can’t be listening to that anymore,” she protested. “There’s all kinds of music here. We can sing in harmony and I’m going to learn to play the harmonica.”
Clark laughed. “How about a juice harp while you’re at it? How about a scrub board. Hey, you can have a dishpan band with all the things in your Amish house.”
Colleen giggled. Carl was a real jokester at times, and really got her going. Memories of meeting him for the first time flooded her. He was so lonely, a homeless hippy –type guy hitchhiking through town, until he met Jerry and Janice and they took him in. He couldn’t stay at Forget-Me-Not, it being full of girls, but he came over often and he’d played a part in helping her open up. Indeed, he was so different now.
“Clark, the right girl will come along for you.” She’d learned to be frank from the Amish. “I’m Hezekiah’s girl, and I love him deeply.”
Their eyes locked again.
“You don’t convince me, Colleen. You may be Amish for a year or two, like some who’ve converted, but you’ll get tired of it all.” He bowed, drew her into himself and started to sway. “Dance with me. For old times’ sake?”
Being in Clark’s embrace made her heart flip. Why? Fear gripped Colleen around the throat as doubts about Hezekiah entered her mind. She pulled away, flustered, and then excused herself, saying she forgot to do something in the barn. As she ran towards the door, she bumped into Hezekiah, hurt etched in his eyes.
~*~
Mona’s hands trembled the further she got from home, and closer to Granny and Jeb’s place, but she was determined to get over her ridiculous fears. Mud slashed up against the buggy and soon Jack barked loudly, announcing her arrival. “Shoo. Now don’t get too close to the horse… or buggy,” she yelled at the huge dog. Jack only continued at her horse’s hooves, jumping into potholes full of water, sending water into her buggy. “Now, Jack, shoo!”
Jeb ran out on the porch, called the dog, which immediately ran to his side. “Sorry,” he yelled. “Gets excited, is all.”
Mona couldn’t help but smile at Jeb, the kindest man she knew. When he gave her Angel, she’d thought him daft, but now she realized that a dog was goot for the nerves and emotions. When she knit now, Angel sat on her lap, her face on her knees, keeping her warm. How did she ever manage without her?
Jeb took the reins and after tying them to a post, helped Mona out of the buggy. “You should have brought Angel for a visit.”
“Freeman’s watching her…”
“Really?”
“Jah. He likes the little critter.”
Jeb took her elbow, leading her inside, taking her wraps, and asking her if she needed anything hot to drink. Jeb was a gentleman from out of one of the classics they’d been reading, with old fashioned manners. But then again, Freeman had been so attentive lately, and their hearts were melding into one. So, why was Fannie so cantankerous?
Mona saw Granny knitting in her rocker. “How many scarves do you make in a week?”
“Ach, several,” Granny quipped. “If I have yarn, I knit. And I’m sure hoping to spin a lot this summer. Nothing like spinning amongst the roses.”
Mona now knew why so many were drawn to Deborah Weaver. The many talks they’d had before or after knitting circle had helped her become more transparent towards others, taking off her mask. ‘No one can help you if they can’t see the real you,’ Granny had said.
Jeb poured hot water into the tea kettle and placed it on the stove. “Sit down, Mona. Now, how can I help you?”
Mona looked over at Granny, needing support, and she took her cue, scooting her rocker near the table.
“Well, with Easter coming and all, I have to admit I’m mighty upset with Fannie.”
“What did she do?” Granny asked.
“Ach, she’s become so rude. When I try to talk to her, she’s like Apollyon in Pilgrim’s Progress!”
Jeb’s body shook as he laughed. “Apollyon’s the monster, jah? Isn’t that taking things a little too far?”
“Ach, she rages on and on…”
Granny put down her knitting. “Has Fannie told you why she’s angry?”
Mona bowed her head and fidgeted with the end of Granny’s blue and white checkered tablecloth. “Jah, but I asked for forgiveness.”
“For what?” Granny prodded.
“Well, I’ve been a grouchy mamm. And neglectful, too. Fears have kept me pent up, but I’ve changed. Everyone sees it, but Fannie just is so unchristian, not forgiving.”
Jeb scratched his head. “You read Pilgrim’s Progress?”
“Jah. It was goot.”
“Well, I’ve read it several times and recommended it for a reason: to prepare hearts for Easter. This is my first year as bishop on Easter and all, and I thought I’d let John Bunyan do some plowing for me.”
“Plowing?” Mona asked.
“You know, dig up folk’s hearts to the Word of God so it can fall on goot soil, so it can grow. Now, I’ve been thinking about you, and see something that applies.”
Mona prayed for grace, hoping Jeb wouldn’t yell at her or break her heart with guilt, like Fannie was doing. “What do you see?”
“If I don’t stay on the straight and narrow, I too can fall into the Slough of Despond, like our pilgrim in the story did.”
“Really? You?”
“Jah, we all have feet of clay at times. But Pilgrim called out in the story and Helper came to help pull him out.” He looked over at Granny. “She’s my helper, along with the goot Lord, along with many others. Pilgrim was never alone on his journey, was he?”
“Nee, he wasn’t. Or if he was he needed help.”
“Do you know what the Slough of Despond is?”
“A place that keeps us from moving on the path?”
“Despond means depression, hopelessness, misery.”
Mona met his turquoise eyes. “You think I’m weak then?” Shame filled her and she knew she was starting to blush.
Jeb opened his Bible that sat on the table. “Now, we’re all weak. It’s basic to the Christian message. We all miss the mark, not being perfect like God and not at the Celestial City yet. But God expects us to fight.”
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“We’re pacifists,” Mona blurted, astonished.
Jeb skimmed though his Bible, put up a finger and read:
“Beat your plowshares into swords
“And your pruning hooks into spears;
“Let the weak say, ‘I am strong.’
“That’s Job 3:10.” He flipped through his Bible towards the back, put his hand up and then jumped up and ran into the living room.
Mona looked over at Granny, who shrugged, obviously not knowing what was wrong.
Jeb ran back with another book lifted above his head. “I’m going to read this out of my new Bible. The King James is beautiful and all, but I like several translations.”
Mona knew one of her faults was being a know-it-all, but most Amish knew they only read the King James Version. Would the church be voting on changing the Ordnung? She closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut.
“Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.” Jeb paused. “Now right here it says we’re not fighting against people. Understand?”
Mona leaned forward and nodded, surprisingly interested.
“And you know it later goes on to say put your armor on?”
Mona looked up, deep in thought. After a deep breath, she said, “We have to dress for battle. Ach, and in the story, when Pilgrim is attacked there’s no armor to protect his back if he turned and ran.”
“Amen,” Jeb bellowed. “Do you see?” He raised his Bible to his heart. “This here Book gives us strength. It’s called a sword.”
“And Pilgrim almost got crushed to death by the monster because his sword fell out of his hand.”
“Jah! The Enemy of our soul likes to press into us. Oppress us.”
“Ach, Jeb. That’s the word for how I feel. Oppressed. Sometimes I feel like I’m being suffocated by fear itself.”
Smicksburg Tales 1,2 & 3 (Amish Knitting Circle, Amish Friends Knitting Circle & Amish Knit Lit Cirlce ~ Complete Series: 888 pages for Granny Weaver Lovers and 30+ Amish Recipes Page 78
