For Time and Eternity (28 page)

God be with me, indeed.

The first sting of cold morning air brought tears to my eyes, and I held a gloved hand up to shield them from the sun. I fastened my bag and swung myself up in the saddle. I’d ridden her only a few times, and from her reaction, Honey was not immediately happy to have me astride. I clicked to her gently as I’d heard Nathan do, and by the time we reached the first white, swelling hill, we’d grown used to each other. I kept a keen eye out for Nathan and Amanda, knowing my initial direction would take me past the route to the overseer’s cabin at the mouth of the quarry, but I saw not a soul. I don’t know if God was hiding me from the Saints or if he was hiding them from me. Honey and I picked our way across the snow; I used familiar landmarks to identify the buried road to Salt Lake City. This clump of trees. That rock. As long as the sun was in the sky, I would be able to gauge my direction—north. Our pace was slower than I’d hoped, though, and by the time the sun reached full noon, I began to worry that we might not arrive before dark.

“Good girl, Honey,” I said, leaning forward in the saddle to pat her neck.

My eyes burned with the glare of the snow, and my breath began to crystallize on the muffler wrapped up to my nose. I began to ride with one hand holding the reins and the other tucked inside my armpit, alternating at the count of one hundred. I wore three pairs of socks, but at some point I pulled Honey to a halt, hopped off, and pulled a petticoat out of my satchel. I ripped it into thick strips and wrapped the material over the top of my boots, creating another layer of warmth. It meant my feet fit poorly in the stirrups, but we were moving at a slow, easy gait.

I fought drowsiness by stopping to scoop handfuls of snow into my mouth—shocked into alertness until long after it melted. I spoke to Honey, quoting all the Bible verses I could remember and paraphrasing those I couldn’t. I kept the image of my daughters forever in front of me, planning our future. I would arrive at Rachel’s door, half-frozen and deserving of her pity, if not her approval. I would stay the winter in Salt Lake City, finding work where I could. Laundress, perhaps, or cook. Certainly an apostate could be worthy of such manual labor.

It was in the midst of such a vision that I realized my eyes no longer stung. I panicked, thinking evening had fallen, and I was nowhere near Salt Lake City. Nowhere near anything. Not a cabin, not a puff of smoke. But the sky did not have the hue of sunset; it had turned gray. Where before I could look out on the horizon and see a clear line where the white of snow met the blue of sky, now all merged into this one colorless shade.

“But it’s blue behind the gray,” I said out loud to Honey. “Remember that.”

Then I heard it. A hum at first, and I remembered what it felt like to lay my head upon my husband’s chest and listen to his laughter. The humming grew, and what had been a harmless, soft, distant gray wall took on life and speed and sound.

Lord, no!

If Honey and I were on course, the storm was coming from the north. Northwest, actually—off the lake. Sensing danger, Honey came to a stop, waiting for my command. My heart went out to this poor creature, caught up in my rash decision. But for my pride she would be safe in her barn, and I would be safe at home.

Or I’d be facing this storm in the cutter with Elder Justus.

Either way, God was throwing a wall between me and Salt Lake City, and I knew enough of grace to know he would forgive my impetuousness and guide me to another path.

I tugged on Honey’s rein and turned her around. To my delight, there was our home, Lottie and Melissa playing run-ribbons on the fresh green grass.

“No!” I shook my head and welcomed the sight of solid gray.

Honey pranced, venturing a few steps on her own. I saw a clearing dotted with a dozen cold fire pits. A gust of wind slammed against us, scattering the ashes.

“Zion.” I gave a decisive yank to the reins and dug my padded boots into Honey’s side. She reared up and broke into the fastest run she could manage. The sting of snow pelted my face, even though she carried me through a dark forest as I ran, ran to warn Nathan. To tell him my father was going to kill him. Kill them all.

“Nathan, go!” But my warning was swallowed up in the snow, the force of the storm nearly knocking me out of the saddle.

I heard nothing but the roar of the wind, punctuated by the laughter of my daughters. Pure white enveloped me, and I thought about the white stones of the temple. How envious they would be, those Saints, to know that I was a spire in the midst of God’s creation.

Honey struggled beneath me, her muscles straining to keep us upright. My legs gripped her, I’d long since dropped the reins. Then, in the next gust, she was gone. For just a few seconds, I swirled with the snow—free. When I fell, I knew only that the earth was beneath me now, though I had no idea if I’d landed with my face buried in snow or raised to the sky. I might have stayed there, if not for Honey’s gentle nudging. I somehow found her bridle, then grasped her mane and pulled myself to my feet.

“Even in this,” I said, fancying myself whispering into her ear, “God is in control. Behind all of this is blue sky. Behind that blue sky is his power.”

Then we walked. Together for a while, I think; then I was wrapped in snow. Alone. I bent to the wind, lifting my worthless arms as useless shields against the onslaught. After a while, I didn’t know if I was walking or if I was just being buffeted to and fro with the whim of the wind. Finally, I surrendered, falling to my knees and lifting my hands to what I thought was the sky.

“Holy Father.” I spoke, though my lips would not be torn away from the ice wrapped around them. “Take me home.”

To open my eyes and to close my eyes meant little more than seeing white or seeing black. At that moment, black seemed so much warmer. So I closed them, knowing full well that they would open again. Until then, I called back every moment that brought me to this place, beginning with that evening I looked out the window and heard them, the Mormons, singing in the darkness.

About the Author

In 2005, Allison Pittman left a seventeen-year teaching career to follow the Lord’s calling into the world of Christian fiction, and God continues to bless her step of faith. She heads up a successful, thriving writers’ group in San Antonio, Texas, where she lives with her husband, Mike, their three sons, and the canine star of the family—Stella.

A Conversation with the Author

How did the idea for this book come to you?

I knew I wanted to write a love story, but not a romance. The character of Nathan came to me fully formed—this deeply passionate, wounded, charismatic, charming man. Then, having grown up in Utah, I knew that Christianity played almost no role in the early history of the state, so I needed Camilla to be a woman seduced away from not only her family but also her Lord. In fact, I saw the understanding and worship of God as being almost a third element in a love triangle. I wanted Nathan and Camilla to love each other as much as they loved God.

You seem to know a lot about the Mormon faith and community. How did you research this story?

I lived in Utah as a child, and my husband is an excommunicated Mormon who came to know Jesus as his Savior when he was in high school, so I had a lot of anecdotal experiences to pull from. But to get a real feel for the history, I spent some time in Salt Lake City. The pioneer women’s museum there is a treasure trove of artifacts, all the little household trinkets that made up a woman’s life. The blue lamp is just one of the artifacts I fell in love with—that and the crazy jug that will appear in the next book.

I think what really struck me—and this is something I’ve shared and confirmed with other Christians—is the spirit of Temple Square in Salt Lake City. The city is beautiful and meticulously maintained, but there is an oppressive air. It’s quiet, but not serene. Something about that huge, white temple topped with a golden angel is unsettling.

I also spent a lot of time browsing Web sites and discussion boards reading posts by ex-Mormons. They gave me a clearer understanding not so much about why people join the church, but why they stay and why they leave. It’s heartbreaking, the stories of bitterness and betrayal, even more so seeing how so many leave the Mormon faith with a mistrust of God and religion in general. I wanted to capture that sense of a desperate need for love and acceptance in Nathan’s character. There are many anonymous people out there who were so helpful in my efforts to capture both Nathan’s fervor and Rachel’s just-beneath-the-surface disdain.

Why did you choose a historical setting?

It’s a fascinating time in our nation’s history, something that doesn’t get a lot of attention, especially looking into the next book, which will touch on the so-called Mormon War and the conflict between the church and the United States government. However, even though this story takes place with the first generation of the LDS church, their method of amassing converts has changed very little. Today, in these times of fractured families, the Mormon message of family values has so much appeal. In fact, that’s what drew my husband’s family into the church back in the mid-1970s. I took that idea and molded it to fuel Nathan’s devotion to the church.

I also wanted to address the idea of polygamy outside the realm of modern controversy. Plural marriage as Mormon doctrine is a historical fact—interestingly ignored in the Church History Museum but openly addressed in the Pioneer Women’s Museum. I was intrigued by the idea of looking at the practice through the eyes of a first wife—not with the wide scope of examining the sociopolitical implications, but a snapshot of the powerlessness of the time.

Camilla’s father is often harsh and unloving toward her. What was your inspiration for their relationship?

First of all, he’s nothing like my own sweet, loving father! I wanted Arlen Deardon to interact with the story on two levels. First, as Camilla’s father, he can appear harsh and unloving, but then his protective actions, no matter how misguided, are absolutely motivated by love. We cannot overestimate how important the father-daughter relationship is in terms of the kinds of decisions a girl will make when it’s time to choose a mate. I know Camilla’s choice when she stood on that dock would have been different if she’d had a history of affection and acceptance with her father. It’s not enough that he loved her if he never demonstrated that love.

Deardon also, though, is a representative of what I truly believe is behind much of the early growth and success of the Mormon church. Bear in mind, early converts (like converts today) were people seeking a meaningful relationship with God. Christians felt the need—and rightly so—to protect the truth of the gospel in the face of such heretical teachings. But like Camilla’s father, they too often expressed that desire through acts of violence.

I am in no way saying that the “Mormon problem” was ill-treated at the hands of the church functioning as a unified body. But think about it: if you’re searching for truth, and one group is telling you that God loves you and you can be just like Jesus, and the other group is shooting and burning the first group, who are you going to choose? The Mormons have a right to see themselves as victims in those early days, and there’s nothing like a common sense of persecution to strengthen faith. After all, look at the first-century Christians.

How much of Camilla did you draw from yourself?

Very, very little that is remotely admirable. I am not spontaneous or strong, and in my younger years I was pretty susceptible to whatever line a good-looking guy might give me. I think I come out the most in the part of the story after Amanda comes along, when we see a few snarky, sarcastic remarks coming from Camilla’s otherwise long-suffering, noble lips.

In the story, Rachel tells Camilla that she has to let Nathan take another wife. “You have to. You’re his salvation. Joseph Smith was his savior in life, giving him direction. Your job is to save him in the next one.” What does it mean that she’s his salvation?

This touches on the Mormon concept of celestial rewards. According to their teaching, if Nathan is ever to achieve the highest, godlike, eternal status, he needs to have at least one eternal wife to bear his spiritual children. She is not so much his “salvation” in terms of his eternity, but in terms of the quality of that eternity. I think it’s important to note here that the Mormons believe that women must be “called” into eternity by their husbands, which explains Evangeline’s plight.

In the end, Camilla is forced to leave her children behind, and we see her lost in a snowstorm. What motivated you to end the book in such a way?

I’ve said all along with this project that I didn’t want to take on the entire Mormon faith; I wanted to tell the story of one woman’s journey back to Christ. The decision Camilla makes is a direct result of realizing her need to completely break away from the church, to live out her faith in Jesus Christ and trust him. Even Jesus told his followers to leave their families and possessions and not look back.

Camilla’s story is far from over, but I wanted to end it the same way I started it. In the first scene, she is essentially alone, struggling to understand God’s teachings. In the end, she is alone physically but so strengthened spiritually, she knows where to put her trust.

As for her children—I urge readers to understand that Camilla’s story takes place in a time far removed from ours. There are elements of society and history that make her choice acceptable for that time and place. The physical safety of her children is her top priority, something any mother can understand. She does not have the options and support that women who are trapped in bad marriages have today. What hasn’t changed, though, is the fact that she has the Lord. Because she is spiritually healed, she can trust his prodding, even if it seems to fly in the face of what might seem logical.

Today Mormons are intentionally aligning themselves with evangelical Christians. What similarities in their beliefs enable them to do this? In what crucial ways are their beliefs different from biblical Christianity?

Mormons believe Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that he died on the cross for our sins and rose again after three days. They love and admire Jesus. They pray in his name. They identify Jesus as a redeemer and savior. But they do not acknowledge that Jesus’ death and resurrection constitute the full completion of our reconciliation and salvation. To the Mormons, this act is incomplete, and true salvation depends not only upon one’s belief in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ as depicted in the Gospels, but also on acceptance and belief in the prophetic writings of Joseph Smith and the practices of the Mormon church.

In the story we see fear and mistrust between the Mormon church and the Christian community. Do you think that mistrust still exists today, or have we become more tolerant of each other?

Sadly, I think we’ve become more tolerant of each other. It may seem odd to say
sadly
, but God does not call us to be tolerant of false teachings. From the beginning of their church, Mormons capitalized on the hostility demonstrated by their Christian neighbors, using it to reinforce their presumed chosen status. By cultivating a strong “us” and “them” mentality, Mormons could maintain the undivided attention of their members.

I think there’s been a subtle shift in the past thirty to forty years with the political recognition of Christian evangelicals. The media tends to lump Mormons and Christians together, and for practical reasons, Mormons have publicly aligned themselves with Christianity. When I was driving through Utah and searching through radio stations in the rental car, I stopped when I heard a Casting Crowns song. Right after it came a song about God giving us the gift of eternal family. Mormons use—and have always used—much of the same vocabulary, but in this world of sound bites and small print, the cavernous differences in theology can hide. Political correctness hates to look at a church filled with good, loving, earnest people and call it a cult, but remember: Satan introduced himself to humanity by twisting God’s word into a lie.

What was the biggest challenge you faced in researching or writing this novel? the greatest reward?

More so than any other book, I had to give this over to God. I knew this had to go beyond the average spiritual content found in most Christian fiction. I tried very hard to represent the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ in contrast with the lies of the Mormon faith without making the book sound like a 350-page tract. It was quite challenging to craft theology into dialogue, to make the deepest questions about salvation relevant to the characters’ relationships. So I hope I pulled it off!

The greatest reward? Honestly, I came away with such a deeper understanding and appreciation for my own salvation. As I wrote about Nathan’s struggle to be “good enough” for God, I felt so loved by my Savior. I realized how wonderful it is to worship a God I cannot fully understand with my finite little mind.

What do you hope readers will take away from this novel?

First, I’d love readers to recognize that, despite any outward appearances, many Mormons are empty, wounded people. As I tried to get inside the head of a Mormon, I spent a lot of time online reading through forums devoted to those who had left the church, and there was so much sadness and bitterness there. I think most Christians approach Mormons in one of two ways: we either avoid any opportunity to witness because doing so is usually fruitless, or we relish the idea of arguing with them. We need to simply love them.

Second, we need to be so rooted in Truth that we can recognize any aberration of the gospel, no matter how subtle. Mormonism and Christianity use largely the same vocabulary; the differences in theological text can seem little more than spin and semantics. We must be wary of works and messages that openly claim to be a “new” way of understanding Scripture.