Mercies and Miracles

by Sharon Downing Jarvis

  “Does she ever date T-Rex?”

  “Who knows? I don’t know who-all he goes out with. I don’t follow him around and check up on him. And in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly hang out with the cheerleading crowd.”

  He studied his eldest child. Why was she being so defensive about all this? Did she think he was going to embarrass her somehow by complaining about Angie-whoever’s behavior? Or did she secretly wish that she did hang out with the cheerleading crowd?

  “Well, Tiff what did you think about what Angie did?” he asked.

  Tiffani pursed her lips and moved impatiently in her chair at the kitchen table. “It was stupid,” she said. “Kinda funny, but stupid. I don’t know. I don’t think it was such a big deal.”

  “What about Claire and Lisa Lou? What did they say?”

  “We all just laughed at first, and then we were like, ‘Oh my gosh, I can’t believe she really yelled that, in front of everybody!’ That’s all.” She frowned up at him. “Why do you keep asking me about it? I didn’t do anything!”

  “I know, I know, sugar. I’m not getting after you. I’m just a little bit well, ticked off. Embarrassed, actually, on your account and Jamie’s and Buddy’s and all the decent people there. And I worry about Thomas, having to deal with that kind of stuff from girls. It’s disgusting.”

  “Oh, Dad don’t you know we all hear way worse than that, every day at school?”

  He sighed. “Well, I wish you didn’t have to. When I was in high school, there was plenty of talk, all right, but I don’t know not the level of ugliness there seems to be now.”

  “Well, things have changed since then.” Her inflection made “then” sound like the Dark Ages.

  Her father nodded. “One thing you’ll learn, Tiff, as you go through life, is that not all change is for the better.”

  “I didn’t say it was better! I just said things have changed since you were in school.”

  He regarded his daughter with concern. Why was she being so prickly? Obviously, he wasn’t approaching this the right way. Maybe there wasn’t a right way.

  “I reckon they have,” he agreed mildly, and dropped the subject.

  * * *

  He began his fast after lunch on Saturday, kneeling in prayer in the room he shared with Trish. He had closed the door; all family members knew not to knock or come in when it was closed. Moms and dads needed private time, either together or apart, and he and Trish had insisted on this rule. Not unless there was a dire emergency was it to be broken. At Mallory’s age, of course, an emergency might be the fact that the graham crackers were out of her reach, but she was learning, as had her brother and sister, and he felt pretty well-assured of his privacy on this golden fall afternoon, especially since everyone seemed occupied with some activity or other.

  He poured out his heart in thanksgiving to God for his blessings his family, his freedom, the gospel of Christ and His atoning sacrifice, his calling as bishop, the relative peace of their community, his source of income all the things that came readily to mind as he reflected on his life. Then he mentioned his concerns to the Lord, beseeching His comfort to be with Ralph and Linda Jernigan in their state of excessive fear and anxiety with Melody Padgett and little Andrea with widows Hilda Bainbridge and Hazel Buzbee, and anyone else who was (or felt) alone and lonely, including Buddy Osborne. He prayed that Thomas Rexford Jr. would be blessed with sufficient humility to be able to deal with the temptations that accompanied success, and that all the youth of the Fairhaven Ward would be strengthened to resist temptation, including his own daughter, Tiffani. He remembered the missionaries throughout the world, and prayed for their safety and success, especially those serving in and from their ward. He prayed that Elder Rand Rivenbark would have the health, strength, and freedom from pain to be able to serve as he desired in the California Burbank Mission. His thoughts moved to those in the armed forces, and those dealing with the aftermath of the terrible events in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania. He dedicated his period of fasting to all who were personally affected by those events, especially any in his own ward who were struggling with it, asking that all would be comforted and granted peace in their hearts. He prayed for protection for his nation and its people, and for wisdom and good judgment in its leaders, and that some good might come out of these difficult times.

  “And, finally, dear Father, wilt thou continue to be my guide in all my dealings with the people under my care,” he petitioned. “Thou knowest all my inadequacies, as a bishop, a father, and an employer and all my responsibilities. Please bless me in times of need, put words in my mouth that these good people need to hear, and help me to be patient and untiring and sensitive to their needs. Please inspire and instruct all who teach or lead or serve in any capacity in our ward, that thy work may go forward and thy people be blessed. Help us all to humble ourselves and be repentant, so that we may hear thy counsel and the whisperings of the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost.”

  He remained on his knees, pondering and listening, for a while longer, then closed his prayer in the name of the Savior and arose from his knees to go to work.

  He sat at his rolltop desk in the far corner of the dining room and began to prepare a short lesson for the Aaronic Priesthood on respecting priesthood offices and those who hold them. He was nearly defeated in his efforts by Samantha, Mallory’s Siamese kitten, who at five months was leggy and lean and amazingly determined to pounce on the pen that obviously was being wiggled on the pad of paper for her amusement.

  “Hey!” the bishop yelled, as one of her sharp claws caught his finger. “Which side are you on, anyway? Don’t you think those guys need this lesson?”

  Samantha paused in her attack and looked at him with the quizzical, cross-eyed expression that nearly always made him laugh.

  “Seriously, cat, I need to get this done. Go play. Where’s your mouse?”

  She changed her mind about capturing the moving pen and sprawled across the pad of paper, giving her chest a couple of licks and beginning to purr. Carefully, he tried to ease the paper out from under her, but she opposed that idea, as well, curling her claws around the edge of the pad and holding on.

  “Now, see? A dog wouldn’t do this. A dog would just lie down at my feet and keep me quiet company while I do what I need to do. Then we could go outside and play catch, or go for a ride in my truck to do some errands. But you? No you have to oppose every move I make. So what good are you, I ask?”

  Samantha rolled over onto her back and stretched, her tawny body elongating impossibly before it contracted back into normal cat-shape. Once more, he tried to remove the pad of paper, and once more, quick as a mongoose, she grabbed it and held on.

  “Okay, I get it. I see what you’re for. You’re here to remind me of Second Nephi two, eleven. There must needs be opposition in all things. Yep good object lesson, Samantha. I got the point. Now, give me the doggone paper!”

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  “my refuge from mine enemy”

  Ralph, this is Bishop Shepherd. I’m coming out to visit you folks in a little bit. Is that all right?”

  “Bishop, not a good idea to be out and about too much, right now. No need to come here, we’re quite sufficient got everything we need. Thanks, though. Stay home and protect your family.”

  “Ralph, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But you know, a bishop’s in a kind of unique position. Sometimes, even if it isn’t convenient, or even if things don’t feel especially safe, he gets a prompting from the Spirit that says, ‘go and do this, or that,’ and he can’t just say no to that, so he gets up and goes. And the Spirit’s telling me this afternoon to get out there and visit with you and Linda, so here I come. Be ready to open the gate for me, okay? Bye, now.”

  He hung up before Ralph could protest again, left a note for Trish, who was shopping, and headed out in his truck. The afternoon was golden, with a deeper blue to the sky than summer had provided. October days could still prod
uce plenty of heat, but the air began to cool appreciably in the late afternoons. It was, he thought, probably his favorite time of year. He loved harvest time. Even though it was the end of the growing season, and was often accompanied by a wistful sadness or nostalgia, there was also a sense of new beginning and new purpose. He wasn’t sure how those two elements came together in his thinking, but there they were. This autumn, of course, the sense of sadness and loss probably outweighed the more joyful aspects of the season. His country was at war, a new kind of war, not the kind his father and uncle had fought, against known enemies, and usually for well-defined purposes but one against hatred and terror and misunderstanding and the opening salvos from the forces of terror had been delivered here in the homeland, in unexpected and horrific ways. It was a complicated situation, and he was still trying to work out in his mind how it had all come to be.

  He wound his way through the back roads west of town to the Jernigan “compound,” as he had come to think of it. Surrounded by tall fences of barbed wire, their house stood in an open field, with no trees or shrubbery around it to harbor those who might wish to do the couple harm. That these enemies existed primarily or entirely in Ralph’s and Linda’s imaginations made no difference. The fears were real, and he had some idea as to why that was so. The attacks of September eleventh had unnerved everyone to some degree, but to the Jernigans, they were the beginning of the end. The couple had not emerged from their sanctuary since that day. The bishop was here to try to change that, with the help of the Lord. He breathed a short prayer as he approached the electronic gates and gave two quick beeps with his horn.

  For a minute or two, he was afraid that Ralph would refuse to admit him, but then he saw the gate open just far enough for the three guard dogs to emerge and do their sniff test of his vehicle. Ralph’s troops, as he called them Corporal, Private, and Captain swarmed around the bishop’s truck, sniffing the tires and engine and exhaust, then running back to sit beside the front door. He knew the drill by now the inspection was over, and Ralph would allow the gate to roll back and admit him to the property. He pulled in, parked, and got out, rubbing Corporal’s head as the wolf-like dog came to greet him. For some reason, Corporal liked him. The other two animals stayed obediently sitting until Ralph tossed out a small treat for each of them.

  “Just you, Bishop?” Ralph called cautiously, peering through the partially open door.

  “Just me, Ralph. Glorious afternoon, isn’t it? Harvest time. How are your pumpkins?”

  The door opened barely wide enough to admit him.

  “Pumpkins are still in the field. Likely rot there, this year.”

  “Oh, no need for that, is there? I’m hoping to get some from you for my store.”

  “Dunno, Bishop. Perilous times, and all that. Don’t dare get out to harvest them. They’ll last a while, anyway. We’ll see how things go.”

  “What if some of the brethren from the ward came to help you get them in? We could finish it up in a hurry.”

  Ralph shook his head. “Wouldn’t want anybody jeopardized on my account. Bad enough that you’re here. Since you are, will you sit down?”

  “Thanks, I’d like to. Linda busy?”

  “Keeping an eye on the news. One of us does that, all the time, you know, to watch for developments.”

  The bishop could hear the low murmur of a television set coming from the kitchen.

  “Doesn’t watching it constantly get to you?” he asked. “It bothers me if I watch too much plus, they repeat everything several times. I don’t think you’d miss much if you turned it off once in a while, do you?”

  “Can’t do that. You never know when there’ll be a breaking news flash, or a special report, or a warning of some kind. Need to be in touch, you know. For our own survival.”

  “I see. Well, speaking of keeping in touch, did you folks get to hear President Hinckley’s talks last week, from General Conference?”

  “No, sir. Keep it tuned to the news channels, all the time. Knew it was conference, one of the stations mentioned it, but we figured we’d read it in the Ensign when it comes out. I worried, though, about the people gathering in such large numbers hope everything was okay.”

  “Everything went fine. And if you read the magazine, I’m sure you’ll be glad you did. There were some wonderful, powerful talks. I don’t know I felt like I needed to hear all I could, especially this year. Searching for some answers, I reckon. It’s hard for me to come to grips with what’s happened. Sure took us all by surprise, didn’t it?”

  “Well, sir, not me. Expected it, sooner or later. Always have said those fundamentalist types are more dangerous than anybody commies, organized crime, whatever. Ready to die, you see. Expect to die, in their attacks. Don’t care. Hard to defend, against an enemy who wants to sacrifice himself to take you out.”

  The bishop nodded. “That’s true, isn’t it? It bothers me that they think we’re the ‘great Satan.’ This country that’s based on freedom of religion for all people, including theirs, and they want nothing more than to destroy us.”

  “Us an’ the Jews. Enemy doesn’t like us because we’re allied with Israel. Bound to come to this. Armageddon, before we know it.”

  The bishop unfolded a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I unloaded I mean, downloaded this from the Internet,” he said, with some satisfaction at having mastered that skill, with the help of Buddy Osborne. “It’s President Hinckley’s comments about the situation. Okay if I share some of them with you? Then I’ll leave this with you, and you and Linda can read it all for yourselves. He says, ‘Now we are at war. Great forces have been mobilized and will continue to be. . . . The terrible forces of evil must be confronted and held accountable for their actions. . . . It is the terrorist organizations that must be ferreted out and brought down.’

  “Then he compares the terrorists of today to the Gadianton robbers in the Book of Mormon, who were vicious, bound by secret oaths, and bent on destruction of the Church and society. He says, ‘We are people of peace. . . . But there are times when we must stand up for right and decency, for freedom and civilization, just as Moroni rallied his people in his day to the defense of their wives, their children, and the cause of liberty. . . . Religion offers no shield for wickedness, for evil. . . . The God in whom I believe does not foster this kind of action. He is a God of mercy . . . of love . . . of peace and reassurance, and I look to Him in times such as this as a comfort and a source of strength. . . .

  “‘Occasions of this kind pull us up sharply to a realization that life is fragile, peace is fragile, civilization itself is fragile. The economy is particularly vulnerable. We have been counseled again and again concerning self-reliance, concerning debt, concerning thrift.’ Now, Ralph you folks are a great example of preparedness and self-reliance, so you can know that the Lord will honor your efforts and grant you peace if you turn to Him, because in this thing, you’ve been more than obedient in what He asked of you.”

  Ralph looked downward, nodding, his lips pursed in thought. “Tried to, Bishop.”

  “Now, listen to this from President Hinckley. He speaks of the time to come in which the earth will be cleansed and there will be a lot of distress, but then he says, ‘Now, I do not wish to be an alarmist. I do not wish to be a prophet of doom. I am optimistic. I do not believe the time is here when an all-consuming calamity will overtake us. I earnestly pray that it may not. There is so much of the Lord’s work yet to be done. We, and our children after us, must do it. . . . Peace may be denied for a season. Some of our liberties may be curtailed. We may be inconvenienced. We may even be called on to suffer in one way or another. But God our Eternal Father will watch over this nation and all of the civilized world who look to Him. . . . Our safety lies in repentance. Our strength comes of obedience to the commandments of God. . . . He has said, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

  “‘Are these perilous times? They are. But there is no need to fear. We can have peace in our hearts and peace in our h
omes.’”

  Ralph was gazing toward the draped picture window of his living room, his expression sober, his mouth still pursed. The bishop wondered what Ralph saw in his mind’s eye what his inner reaction was to the words of the prophet. Finally Ralph spoke.

  “Hard for me to do, you know. Hard not to fear. So many ways to be caught unaware, to get hurt. . . . Feel I need to be constantly vigilant.”

  “I know, Ralph. And ” He nodded slightly toward the framed photograph of the little blonde girl on the makeshift table of powdered-milk cartons. “And I know a little about why you feel that way. For very good reason.”

  Ralph looked startled, but didn’t reply. The bishop took a deep breath and continued. “The thing is, my friend, we all feel a little threatened and insecure right now, and we need to band together for strength and comfort, and pray together for protection and peace. It would be a great act of faith if you and Linda could make it to sacrament meeting tomorrow. It’ll be fast and testimony meeting, you know, and I imagine there’ll be feelings expressed that you folks can really relate to. I know it’d strengthen me to have you there, and I believe you’d benefit, too.”

  “Don’t know. Dangerous times what we’ve guarded against and prepared this place for. So we never have to leave. Never have to feel so . . .”

  He stopped, and the bishop nodded and continued for him. “So terrified, so vulnerable, so robbed and violated as you felt when little Jodie Lee was taken from you. Of course. I don’t blame you one little bit. The Lord knows and feels and understands your pain, never doubt it. But, as President Hinckley said, this is probably not the time for a huge calamity to overtake us. It is a time of uncertainty, for sure but in times like these, there really is strength in numbers, and I truly do believe you and Linda would feel better to come out into the sunshine, at least for an hour or two, and join with the other Saints to share our faith and testimony. We all need each other, Ralph. We need you and Linda to be there and you need us. We’re supposed to share one another’s burdens, remember? I think that’s why the Lord sent me out here today.”