MARCUS
Marcus sat at the table with Grace and pulled his watch out of his pocket again. It was a quarter past five.
“I’m sure he’ll be here,” he said, hoping to bolster his own confidence by reassuring Grace. He put his watch away and took another sip of his lukewarm coffee. They had made good time, arriving at the coffee house twenty-five minutes after four. Now, fifty minutes later, the shop door opened and Ada finally entered, accompanied by a tall broad-shouldered man with a beard. Eli, however, was not with her. She smiled and waved at them. They stood to give the young woman a hug as she asked about their journey.
“This is Jed,” she said, indicating the man standing by her. “Jed, this is Pastor and Mrs. Duncan.”
“Marcus,” he insisted when Jed took his hand. “And this is Grace.” As they followed Jed out of the shop, Marcus turned to Ada. “Eli didn’t come,” he said.
“He couldn’t make it,” she apologized.
Ada sat in the carriage with the Duncans while Jed led them to the camp in his hitch wagon. When they arrived, a pleasant group of people met them, but Eli was still nowhere to be seen. Jed ran through the introductions, and a woman named Rosa took Grace by the hand. She smiled at Marcus and reached over to Ada as well. Though she directed her words to the young woman, she spoke to all three of them.
“Eli set up the tent after you left,” she said. “He moved your things out there so your guests could stay in your vardo.”
“Is he here?” Ada asked.
Rosa shook her head. “He brought some fish home for supper. He knows it will be ready soon; I’m sure he’ll be back.”
Eli didn’t return for the meal, though. Marcus was worried about him, but despite his absence—and Ada’s quieter than normal temperament—he enjoyed getting to know the couple’s adopted family. Soon it was time for bed. As they retired to the quaint wagon home, Marcus marveled at the workmanship Eli had put into it and wondered if he would see his friend in the morning.
A meal cooked over a campfire always made the food seem more nourishing. Marcus sat by the open flames, enjoying a full stomach after an amazing breakfast. As the caravan entertained them with tales about their lives, his admiration for them continued to grow. He was gaining a deep respect for Jed, who had a strong yet gentle way that was reinforced by his confident presence. Now that he had met Eli’s mentor, Marcus could see Jed’s influence in the better side of the young man’s personality.
Earlier that morning, Marcus emerged from the vardo to find Eli sitting in a chair next to Ada. The young man stared despondently into the fire, unable to find his way back to his good-natured self. Even though Eli barely acknowledged anyone all through breakfast, Marcus was relieved to see him.
“You know, Jed,” he said as the conversation lulled, “I’ve enjoyed coming here and meeting all of you. It’s been a good eye-opener to see the life Eli and Ada had before moving to our town. I’m glad to know the people who have been instrumental in their growth. I can see Eli’s best qualities in you folks. I’m sure he appreciates what a blessing you are.” He looked at Eli and took on a more serious tone. “But I hope he also realizes that he’s been a blessing to his friends in East Haven. Our town is better with him there.” Eli glanced up from the fire. “I have to admit, though,” Marcus said as he continued to look at Eli, “I’m worried we’re going to lose him. He may decide not to come back, and that would be a great loss to me.” Eli peered at him in silence, and Marcus sighed when his unreadable expression didn’t change.
After a drawn-out pause, Jed nodded. “You’re right, Marcus. You just might lose him. Once he makes up his mind about something, it’s hard to convince him otherwise.”
Still looking at Marcus, Eli stood and shook his head slowly. “Don’t…” he began. “I haven’t decided anything yet.” He turned and walked down a path leading away from camp.
“Do you know where he’s going?” Marcus asked Jed as he watched him leave.
“Yeah. If you follow that path, you’ll find a tree with a broken limb. To the left of the tree is a small trail that will take you to a clearing by the edge of the creek. He’s probably going there.” Marcus nodded and went after him.
He found Eli sitting on the bank, throwing rocks into the creek. He joined him on the ground, and they watched the water flow by. The creek gurgled as a twig snapped somewhere in the woods.
“I am truly sorry that I made you feel as though I agreed with John,” Marcus said. “I don’t know why he dislikes you so much, and I don’t know where his opinions come from, but they’re not mine. And they’re not the opinion of anyone who has taken the time to get to know you.” As he spoke, the young man’s head lowered. “I’ve always known you to be confident, Eli. I know you don’t care what John thinks of you. His ignorance provokes you, but he’s not the one you’re wrestling with. Why did you come to East Haven anyway? There must have been a reason for you to leave all of this.”
Eli looked up. “I really thought God was calling me there,” he said, finally opening up. “I thought I would find some answers, but men like John make me think I must have heard wrong.” He sighed, sounding defeated. “I had a dream when I was younger. God was calling me to do something for Him, but I still don’t know what it is. That dream put a desire in my heart to serve the Lord, and I have been trying to fill it ever since.” Eli shifted his body and rubbed his bandaged hand. “There are only three things in life that I desire. I want to take care of Ada, I want to be a father someday, and I want to live for God. I have to do whatever He’s asking of me, but He won’t tell me what it is!”
Eli squinted his eyes and frowned. “You’re right, Marcus, I don’t really care what John or anyone else thinks of me. What I don’t understand is why God would put this desire in my heart, ask me to move Ada away from our family, and then leave us there with no answers. I feel like I’ve wasted years, and I’m no closer to discovering it now than I was before I started.” He lowered his eyes again and stared at the ground.
“I don’t think you’re looking at the whole picture,” Marcus said after a pause. “You’re struggling with a couple of things. First of all, you’re mad at God, and that means you can’t see clearly.”
Eli shook his head. “I’m not mad at God,” he argued. “What would be the point of that? I get it; His plan is best. I’m just mad that I can’t figure it out! It’s obviously not in East Haven.”
Marcus pointed at his friend. “That, right there! That’s what I’m talking about. You’re angry with God because He’s taking you down a path that doesn’t look like you thought it should, and He isn’t backing it up with any answers. You won’t admit you’re mad at Him, and because you won’t, you can’t deal with it. You’ve let your anger build up so much that you doubt your own calling. You’re willing to give up just because God won’t give you the answers you’re demanding. Why should He? You’re not ready yet.”
Eli squeezed his eyes closed. “You sound like Jed,” he muttered.
“Good,” Marcus said with a short laugh. “He’s a smart man. Look, Eli. It’s okay to admit you’re frustrated with God’s timing. And it’s even okay to admit that you’re mad at Him; He can handle it. But don’t stay there. Confess it and try to start trusting Him again. I know it’s hard, but you won’t get past this until you do. Ask Him to give you the patience to wait on Him. Waiting on God means you’re resting on a fine line between the hopeful expectations of His promises and the contentment of where He has you. It’s easy to fall off of that line when you’re not holding on to God for balance.”
Eli nodded at his words. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I admit it; I am angry at God. I hate how it feels, Marcus, but I don’t know how to get rid of it.”
“You can start by thinking about all the times God has given you answers and listing everything He’s done for you,” Marcus suggested. “That might help you remember how to trust Him. Make a choice to let go of your anger, and then keep letting go of it—every hour if you have t
oo. One day, you won’t want to pick it up again.” He gripped Eli’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s pray about it right now.”
They lowered their heads and Marcus asked Jesus to fill Eli with trust. He asked Him to help Eli with his anger and, as they prayed, he felt the young man’s tension melt away.
After a long pause, Eli asked, “So…what’s the other thing? You said I’m struggling with a couple of things.”
“Hmm.” Marcus sighed. “How can I explain this? Try to hear me out, Eli. Why should John or anyone else in our town accept who you are if you won’t even accept it? You say you want to live for God; that’s great. But you won’t embrace His gifts. He has given you the gift of giving and the means to do it, but you hide those gifts away as if you’re ashamed of them.”
“No, Marcus, now that’s where I think you’re wrong. I was willing to learn how to make that money grow. I do use the tools God has given me, and I try to use them in a way that honors Him. I want to help people; I want to give. That’s what I need Him to show me. I want to know how to use that money for His glory. I’m not ashamed of it.”
“Then why are David and I the only ones who know you have it?” he asked. Eli’s expression faltered.
“I don’t know… I guess I don’t want people to treat me differently because of it. I want to know who my true friends are, regardless of the money. I don’t want anyone to put me on a pedestal.”
“Okay, I get that,” Marcus said. “You don’t have to put your money out there for everyone to see. But you also don’t have to hide it as if it’s some big secret. You’re like a person who’s been given the gift of song, but instead of using that talent to draw people into worship, you never share it with anyone for fear of the vanity it might give you. How is that glorifying God? How is that being a good steward of the gifts He’s given you? You’re trying to be humble, but it’s selfish. You’re a good man, Eli. Don’t trip yourself up with misplaced humility. God doesn’t make mistakes, and it’s prideful to think that He does.”
“Ouch. You just keep knocking me down! I’m not sure I can take much more of your insight.”
“Well, I’ll stop then. I think we’ve reached the end of my wisdom anyway,” Marcus said with a grin.
Eli picked up a rock and rolled it around in his uninjured hand. He chuckled at himself. “I’ve been pretty awful these last few days, haven’t I?” he said. “I think I need to apologize to everyone. I’m sorry for how I treated you through all of this. I’m not sure why you still like me.”
“Who said I did?” Marcus replied, laughing. “I’m only here for the fish. Jed said you all have some good-sized salmon in this creek. You know, I don’t know why it’s called a creek; this here is a river.” The two men laughed together.
“You want to go fishing?” Eli said. “We’ll go first thing tomorrow. You haven’t experienced early until you’ve gone early-morning fishing with Jed.” He threw the rock into the river.
“Hey!” Marcus yelled. “Don’t scare away my fish!”
A mischievous smile grew on Eli’s face as he picked up another rock.
ELI
Eli had converted one of their two extra rooms into an office. A comfortable chair sat next to a small desk made from dark-stained hardwood. The document box Tony gave them rested on top of the desk. Their marriage certificate could be found at the bottom of the box, and above that was a stack of letters from Nathan Keeler.
The letters contained stories of some of the children who had undergone surgeries over the past year. Dr. Keeler sent a letter faithfully every month. He didn’t write about every child he worked with, only those benefiting directly from Eli’s quarterly contributions, which averaged about two per month. Eli only skimmed over the stories before throwing them into the box. It made him uncomfortable to read the letters. But after listening to Marcus point out his weaknesses ten days ago, he thought it might be good for him to pay closer attention to the letter he currently held in his hand.
After returning from the West Woods, Eli had gone to the post office to collect his mail. In the stack, he found this current letter detailing the children who had received surgeries back in August. It took the doctor a month to get his letters out, which was why Eli would be reading about these at the end of September. Ironically, now that he intended to read through his discomfort, this letter felt thicker than the previous ones.
As he leaned back in his chair, he read about the first child, a little boy named Paul. The tiny eight-month-old had undergone the first of several surgeries to close a gap in both sides of his upper lip as well as his pallet. His disfigurement had made it difficult to eat, and his parents were worried about his growth. In addition to his eating challenges, he had chronic ear pain with a suspected loss of hearing. Eli wanted to read more about this boy’s progress in the future, and for the first time, he appreciated Nathan’s efforts to keep him informed.
The next page told of a six-year-old girl named Sarah who had a small gap in her lip. She had a single surgery that had fixed the problem immediately, just like Angel. The sad part of this little girl’s story was that she had been abandoned as an infant. Her parents were unwilling to keep a child they thought was damaged. They left her on the steps of an orphanage, forcing her to deal with her disfigurement on her own. Her life must have been difficult as other children teased her. It was a shame to suffer that kind of isolation when there was such a simple fix. He paused briefly and prayed for the young girl.
As he finished Sarah’s story, he turned to the final page. It wasn’t another child’s story; it was an invitation. The doctor and his wife were holding an appreciation banquet for their donors on the tenth of December. Nathan asked the Gardners to come to Lambury to participate in the event.
Eli’s first thought was no thank you! But then he remembered Marcus’ poignant criticism and decided to give it more consideration. Would it really be so horrible to let the Keelers thank him along with all their other donors? Even though the thought of attending Nathan’s banquet filled him with apprehension, under that hesitation was a feeling that he ought to go.
“Okay, fine,” he thought, “I’ll go.” In that moment, Eli chose to step out of his comfort zone. He would take his wife to the banquet in Lambury no matter how anxious it made him feel.
JAMES
James O’Conner stood in the banquet hall, scanning the crowd of people dressed in tuxedos and lacy gowns. He did not want to be here, but his good friend Nathan Keeler insisted. Nathan said he wanted to introduce James to someone who would be at the dinner, but he and Elizabeth were both busy hosting. James would have to fend for himself. He knew he should mingle with some of the well-to-do men with money to spare, but he felt awkward pushing himself on them. Nathan said that was part of his problem and why he didn’t have more success. He looked around the hall, trying to decide which group to chat with first. Catching sight of a young man standing by himself, James gathered his courage, walked up to him, and nodded.
“You look about as uncomfortable as I feel,” James said.
“Is it that obvious?” the man asked.
“At first, I thought you might be a reporter for the paper. But you aren’t talking to anyone, so that wouldn’t make for a very good story, would it?” James chuckled.
“Reporters?” the man asked, looking around. “They won’t be here, will they?”
“I was joking,” James said with an apologetic laugh. “Nathan keeps his banquets closed. Though, I’m sure a few of these men wish he wouldn’t. You know, ‘the press is good for business,’ and all. Are you here with an organization?”
“No, I’m here with my wife. She was just pulled away to meet some of the other women. Are you one of Dr. Keeler’s donors?” the young man asked.
“No, a friend and sometimes-volunteer. Oh, I’m sorry! My name is James.” He held out his hand.
“I’m Eli,” the young man replied, taking his hand. “So, how do you know Dr. Keeler?”
“Nathan and I met at the h
ospital,” James explained. “We both used to work there years ago. Actually, my wife Sophia and I still do, but Nathan moved on so he could focus on his ministry.” He laughed. “You know, I have a ministry of my own. It’s nothing like Nathan’s, but my wife and I work hard at it. Nathan and Elizabeth inspire us. He insisted I come here tonight and talk to some of these gentlemen about what I do. He thought I might find a few people who would be interested in donating to my cause. Lack of funding is my biggest challenge.”
“And I’m guessing you haven’t done that, yet,” Eli said.
James chuckled and shook his head. “Nope, you’re the first person I’ve talked to. Maybe you’ll laugh, but I find all these rich men hard to engage. They look at you as though they might fall asleep if you don’t hurry up and get to the point. You know what I mean? You and I, we’re just a couple of regular guys; but not them. People with money tote around a self-important attitude that I find unapproachable and sometimes intimidating.”
“Well, I’m sure not all of them are like that,” Eli said.
“Oh yeah, I’m generalizing. But when you put me in a situation like this, knowing I need to put myself out there and talk to them…well, that’s where my fear takes me,” James confessed.
“So, why don’t you practice on me then,” Eli suggested. “I’ll listen to you talk about your ministry and you can be comfortable knowing that I am just a regular guy, like you.”
“Okay, you’ve got a deal,” James said smiling. “I make legs. I’m the leg man.”
“The leg man?” Eli looked intrigued.
“Yeah. I make prosthetic legs for children. You see, these legs can be expensive. Now, when an adult needs one, he saves up and eventually buys one. One, mind you! He might be able to go the rest of his life with that one leg, if he takes good care of it.” James paused for effect.
Eli nodded. “I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“Exactly! When a child receives a limb, he’s going to grow out of it quicker than his parents can save up for a new one. Walking on a prosthetic leg that’s too short or doesn’t fit correctly can have negative effects on their posture. My belief is that it doesn’t matter if the parents can afford another leg or not; that child will still need a new one. So twice a year I have a leg run.” James laughed at his pun. “It’s an event where families can come and have their child’s limb repaired or exchanged for another when needed. The limbs can be reused by other children over and over again as long as they’re still in good condition. These previously used legs aren’t as expensive, and often times, I can repair them quickly or make adjustments on them right there in my studio.
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