The Calling of Emily Evans (25 page)
“No, ma’am,” the young man answered with a shake of his head.
“She isn’t moving in until Sunday?”
“I expect her on Sunday—but only to call. She lives in Meldon.
I’m on my own now.” He stopped long enough to lift the hat from his head, wipe a sleeve across his sweaty brow.“I’m just starting to farm my own place,” he said, gazing out across the acres.
Emily looked at the tall, broad-shouldered young man with love-of-the-land clearly showing in his dark brown eyes. She hadn’t a doubt that he’d make out just fine.
“Then I guess I should be on my way,” she stated.
“I would be happy to bring some lemonade to the porch,” he offered.
“That’s very kind,” replied Emily, “but I really think—”
“It’s a warm day,” insisted the young man.“I’m about ready for a break. And Mother always taught us to take care of God’s servants.” He smiled.
Emily returned the smile.“A glass of lemonade on the porch would be nice,” she conceded, and fell into step with the young man.
Carl Morgan was in church every Sunday. He brought produce to her door. He volunteered to haul her wood, work on her skimpy garden, and build the fire in the church stove when needed.
Emily enjoyed the attention. She enjoyed his taking some of the burdens that she had carried for so long. But she did not enjoy the strange little warning that kept flashing through her mind.
Ruth’s dilemma was a constant reminder. Ruth had written that she had let the young man go his own way.“I could not see how I could be wife, mother and minister,” Ruth had written.“God has not yet released me from my call, and I know I could not turn my back on it.”
But Emily argued that her situation might be different from Ruth’s. Surely she could live right here in the community and still serve the church and be the wife of an area farmer.
Carl had not as yet asked her to be his wife.“He is considerate and manly and a sincere believer,” Emily told herself. She was sure all she had to do was to encourage him and he would ask for her hand.
“This is ridiculous,” she finally said aloud one evening.“You don’t marry simply to have someone to harness the horses or haul the wood!”
From that time on, Emily carefully guarded her words and actions when she was around Carl. She, like Ruth, could not give up her calling until God released her, and He had not done so as yet.
When I marry—if I marry,
Emily reminded herself,
it must be to
someone who shares my commitment, not robs me of it.
From then on Emily busied herself even more with the task of outreach and nurture of the community.
But regardless of her new resolve, memories of another man, Shad Austin, began to return to her daytime thoughts and her nighttime dreams.
He seemed so comfortable to be with—so right,
thought Emily.
If only … if only …
Then Emily’s thoughts turned to Ross—Ross whose warm letters arrived each week. Now Emily felt more confused than ever.
A knock at her door brought Emily’s attention from the Sunday sermon over which she was laboring. She was not expecting company. The women who shared neighborhood news with her over a cup of tea never came on Saturday, knowing it was the time she devoted to her Sunday preparations.
But when Emily opened the door, there stood Ross!
“Ross! What a surprise,” Emily managed, and he moved to enter without invitation.
“I thought it was a nice day for a picnic,” he answered cheerfully.
It was a glorious fall day. The leaves were delightful shades of reds and yellows. The sun hung lazily in the sky, and birds flitted here and there, calling their last farewells before departing for the south.
“A picnic? It
does
sound like fun.”
“Then grab your coat—or whatever you need, and let’s be off. I already have lunch in the car.”
It was so tempting.“But I’m not ready for Sunday,” Emily moaned.
“Sunday?”
“My sermon,” Emily reminded him.
“Your sermon? Can’t it wait?”
“I’m afraid not. It takes me most of Saturday to properly prepare it.”
“But just this once, couldn’t you cut short the time? Use an old one or something. No one would remember. Just change a few words.”
Emily shook her head.
“You shouldn’t be—” started Ross, but he stopped and changed his tone.
“Oh, Emily,” he said, and moved closer to her, “I’ve traveled miles to see you. It is my only free day. I had a picnic lunch specially prepared. I was so looking forward to seeing you again.” His hands on her waist, he pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips against her hair.“Please,” he pleaded.“Please.”
Emily pushed away slowly, not comfortable being held by a man to whom she had made no commitment. She lifted Ross’s hands from her waist and stepped back to look at him.
“Ross,” she began slowly, “I’m sorry. Truly I am. I enjoy your friendship, but I—my first commitment is to the Lord. And that includes preparation of a Sunday sermon, and I’m afraid—I’m
sure
that is what I must do.”
She thought she saw anger in his eyes.
“You—you can’t understand that, can you?” she dared to ask.
He shook his head stubbornly.“I thought a woman’s place was in the home—as a wife, a mother,” he retorted.
“I agree,” she admitted, then added quickly, “unless God calls her into something else. Then she must be obedient to His call.”
“Let the
men
preach,” he countered.“You can’t do the full work anyway. You can’t marry or bury or baptize. You call that ministry?”
Emily forced herself to ignore his sarcasm.“If I had a husband who would preach, I would be glad to allow him that privilege,” she returned firmly.“This community needs the Word of God. Until such time as a man comes to deliver it, the responsibility will be mine.”
“Very well,” he said in clipped tones.“I guess I will find someone else to share my picnic—and my future.”
Emily sighed.“Yes,” she replied evenly, “I guess you should.”
Then he was gone, and Emily shed a few tears before she returned to her sermon.
“It’s all right, Lord,” she prayed.“I am quite prepared to serve alone—for as long as you need me.”
Emily participated in the annual Autumn Picnic again. But without the presence of Shad, the day was not the same. She joined the Reillys at their table, but they made no comment about Shad missing the festivities for the first time—and Emily dared not ask.
In fact,
Emily thought,
Mrs. Reilly has not mentioned Shad for many months.
Has there been some rift between them? He didn’t even come visit this
summer, as far as I know.
Emily was puzzled, but her question went unanswered.
“I notice Sophie’s kids don’t go to yer Sunday school no more,” Big John commented as Emily opened her purse to pay for her purchases.
“No, they don’t,” agreed Emily, sadness in her eyes. She had prayed so often that Sophie would relent after a time, but she was still adamant in her refusal to allow the children to return to church.
“Took it pretty hard, did she?” Big John continued.
How would you expect a mother to take it?
Emily wanted to retort. Instead she made no reply.
“Thet’s what I don’t understand’ bout religion,” John mused, almost to himself.“Ya say God loves. Ya say He is powerful. Ya say He can answer prayer. So how come ya didn’t pray thet the boy would git better?”
“We did,” said Emily honestly.
Big John looked at her triumphantly.“But He didn’t answer, did He?”
“He answered,” responded Emily evenly.
Big John looked surprised at her reply.
“The kid died!” he shot back at her.
“That doesn’t mean God didn’t answer our prayer,” Emily answered softly, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.“Oh, I know. He didn’t answer in the way we wanted—the way we prayed. But we can’t see the future. He can. He answered in the way He knew best.”
“Humph!” Big John snorted.“Thet’s the baloney ya religious people always spout. Don’t make a lick of sense, an’ ya know it. Either He ain’t got the power to do what He promises, or else He don’t care one little bit, thet’s the truth o’ the matter.”
Emily straightened to her full height.“If I thought that for one minute,” she said honestly, “I wouldn’t be here.”
“So why are ya here?” he challenged.“No man ask ya to wed?”
Emily gulped down her frustration. If he only knew the agony she had been through trying to weigh her desires to be a wife and mother against her call to the ministry. She blinked back tears and answered softly, firmly.
“Being here, as a single woman, is not easy. I do not relish the care of horses. I do not enjoy trying to produce a garden in a patch of weeds. I do not like hauling wood and water. I do not even enjoy the preparations of sermons—all ‘manly’ jobs, if you will. But God has called me here. I do not know why—nor do I ask. I only try to obey.”
She picked up her small parcel.“And you can be assured,” she went on, “I will be here—just as long as I feel this is where He wants me.” She turned and quietly left the store.
She was annoyed with herself that she let Big John’s barbs get to her. She would never, never be any witness to the man as long as she allowed him to trouble her so.
“Lord,” she prayed, sitting at her little table stroking Walter’s fur, “please help me to respond calmly to his honest questions and overlook the ones he asks simply to bother me. Help me to know what to say and how to say it. And help Big John to learn to love you.”
Emily hurried the team home from her calling, feeling the sharp chill in the air. She let her horses through the pasture gate and moved quickly toward the Travis house. She was anxious to see how things had been going with the family. They had missed church on Sunday.
Mrs. Travis welcomed her warmly and insisted that she stop for a cup of hot chocolate. Two new bruises had appeared on the woman’s forehead but she made no comment. They chatted lightheartedly over their cups.
“Mrs. Travis,” Emily finally began carefully as she toyed with the teacup, “is there any way that I can help you?”
The woman looked surprised.
“I would be glad to make the call if you’d like your husband to get some—some medical help with his problem,” Emily dared to continue.