Ralph’s eyes were haunted, but his voice held steady. “Can’t promise anything, Bishop. I’ll talk to Linda see what she thinks. She told you, did she?” He nodded toward the photograph.
“She did, a little. I wanted to know. Linda said she was never found. It hurts my heart, Ralph. I love you guys.”
Ralph nodded, and walked to the door to open it for his guest. His lips worked, but he didn’t attempt to speak. Nor did the bishop say any more. He left the paper with President Hinckley’s talk on the makeshift table and patted Ralph’s shoulder as he slipped past him and headed for his truck.
* * *
Jamie was sprawled on the family room floor with the sports page of the Fairhaven Lookout spread before him.
“Hey, Dad,” he greeted, when the bishop came in. “Hey, what’s a Mariner, anyway? Is it some kind of animal?”
“As in Fairhaven High Mariners?”
“Yeah.”
“No, it’s not an animal. It’s a seafarer, a sailor. Related to the word Marine, I suspect.”
Jamie frowned. “Well, how come the team gets called that? We’re not anywhere near the sea.”
His dad sat down wearily in his recliner and leaned back. “As I understand it, the town of Fairhaven was named for a plantation that was built here many years ago, by a retired seafaring man whose wife wanted to get as far away from the sea as possible. I reckon she was tired of him being gone on a ship so much, or something. So I guess you could say he put into port here, and thought it was a ‘fair haven,’ meaning a safe and pretty place to settle and put down his anchor. Then when the town grew up, they decided to name it the same thing. And that’s why you have the Fairhaven Mariners, with blue and white uniforms the colors of the sea.”
“Cool. I never knew that.”
“Mrs. Martha Ruckman taught me that. Tashia Jones’s grandmother, in fifth grade.”
“Yeah? My age. Weird.”
His father smiled tiredly. “Yeah. I was once in fifth grade. Weird.”
* * *
There were no lengthy or awkward pauses in the bearing of testimonies in the Fairhaven Ward that Sunday. People stood up in groups, it seemed, one deferring to another until all had had a chance at the microphone. Bishop Shepherd listened carefully, both for content and for hints of unresolved problems he might need to address at a later time. Many of the testimonies were predictable expressions of faith and gratitude that might have been offered on any fast day but a few were remarkable.
Lori Parsons spoke, balancing her curly-haired baby on one hip and leaning toward the microphone. “Most of y’all prob’ly know that our little girl, Alyssa, was born profoundly deaf,” she said. “Yet when my husband Joe blessed her, right here in fast and testimony meeting six months ago, he blessed her that she would have the use of all her faculties in her mortal life. I didn’t see how that could ever be, but recently we got a call from our doctor, telling us about cochlear implants, which can help a deaf person actually hear. I’d never heard of such a thing, and neither had Joe. So we’re looking into that for Alyssa, and it’s real expensive. Our insurance won’t cover it, but if it’s the right thing for her, I know we’ll find a way. Now, I’m not up here asking for donations! I just wanted to testify that the Lord hears the blessings and promises that are given through His priesthood, and honors them. So it wasn’t just Joe’s wishful thinking that made him say that, even though for a while he worried that it might have been. I just wanted y’all to know that we have faith in the power of the priesthood and in the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I say this in His name, amen.”
“Amen,” responded the congregation warmly.
About a third of the way through the meeting, Brother Levi Warshaw stood at the pulpit. Levi was one whose knowledge of the scriptures was enviable, making him an almost permanent fixture as Gospel Doctrine teacher, and the bishop was always interested to hear what he had to say. Levi’s accent was not as pronounced as that of his wife, Magda, but it was enough to add a special emphasis to his message.
“Brothers and sisters, the events of this past month have sent me deeply into the scriptures to try to find some meaning to what has happened to our country. Most of you know that my wife and I were both little children in Europe during the Second World War, and saw some terrible things. We were very blessed to escape with our lives, but we both have memories that haunt our dreams, even now. This attack on the United States brings it all back to us.
“Also, as you know, there’s no scarcity of war stories in the scriptures, from the war in heaven to prophecies of Armageddon and the final conflict with Satan at the end of the Millennium, with plenty of wars and rumors of wars in between. But I came across one passage that spoke to me in a particular way, given what we’ve witnessed. It’s in the book of Ether which has never yet put me to sleep,” he added with a strained smile. “If you’d like, look at chapter eight, beginning with verse twenty-two. This is Moroni, speaking about secret combinations. In Europe, you know, we Jews saw what evil could be done by secret combinations. And surely, if ever we have been besieged by secret combinations in this country, the likes of Al Qaeda qualify. We are taught to liken the scriptures to ourselves, so listen as Moroni says, ‘And whatsoever nation shall uphold such secret combinations, to get power and gain, until they shall spread over the nation, behold, they shall be destroyed; for the Lord will not suffer that the blood of his saints, which shall be shed by them, shall always cry unto him from the ground for vengeance upon them and yet he avenge them not.
“‘Wherefore, O ye Gentiles, it is wisdom in God that these things should be shown unto you, that thereby ye may repent of your sins, and suffer not that these murderous combinations shall get above you, which are built up to get power and gain and the work, yea, even the work of destruction come upon you.
“‘Wherefore, the Lord commandeth you, when ye shall see these things come among you that ye shall awake to a sense of your awful situation, because of this secret combination which shall be among you; or wo be unto it, because of the blood of them who have been slain; for they cry from the dust for vengeance upon it, and also upon those who built it up.
“‘For it cometh to pass that whoso buildeth it up seeketh to overthrow the freedom of all lands, nations and countries; and it bringeth to pass the destruction of all people, for it is built up by the devil, who is the father of all lies.’
“Sorry, brothers and sisters, to quote such a long passage. Now, I never have thought to refer to myself as a Gentile.” He smiled. “But I think you can see that we are the Gentile nation that is in danger from those who seek power and gain and destruction. There is no excuse for what these people have done to us, but I do feel that we need, as a nation, to repent and turn to the God who made us free and plead with Him to keep us free, and to grant us comfort and peace. That’s what I’m trying to do. These evil men did ‘get above us,’ as the scripture says, in more ways than one, and I believe all Americans need to unite and plead with the God of this land to keep them from being successful again.”
Brother Warshaw closed his testimony and sat down, to be followed by Sister Rosetta McIntyre, counselor in the Relief Society presidency, who quietly expressed her gratitude for the general conference that had been held the previous weekend.
“I remember, and most of you do, too, when we couldn’t get more than about an hour of conference here, and it was so frustrating to me to know that there was so much more being said by such great leaders and I didn’t have access to it. I’m grateful for the technology that allows us to participate as fully as we want to. I’m grateful, too, for the peace that only comes through the Lord Jesus Christ. He doesn’t always give us the kind of peace that most of the world is hoping and working for, but He gives us individual peace in our hearts, if we trust Him, so that we can endure whatever comes.”
After Rosetta, Sister Ida Lou Reams stood up and determinedly made her way to the podium. She held a little card in her hand, from which she read. “Dear frie
nds, you know I have to read my testimony because if I just try to speak it, I get all tangled up and forget half of what I want to say. I love my Heavenly Father, and I know He loves me. He lets me know that, pretty regular, and I appreciate it. He answers my prayers, though sometimes I don’t know why He should, but I’m glad He does. I know He loves each one of you, too, because He gives me love in my heart for you. If I’ve ever give any offense to anybody, I’m sure sorry. I don’t never intend to do that, but sometimes it just happens in spite of all. I pray for all the folks who’ve lost loved ones in this terrible thing that’s happened in our land, and I know they’ll be blessed if they can just hang on and have faith. Things do get better, in time. I’m grateful for our dear bishop and his good wife, and all they do for us. I know this Church is true because it’s built up on truth and revelation from God, and because Jesus Hisself and His Father brought it back to earth and give it to Joseph Smith. I don’t understand all the scripture the way good Brother Warshaw does, but what I can understand, I sure do love. I say these things in Jesus’ name, amen.”
The bishop reached out a hand to shake Ida Lou’s trembling one as she passed by him. He was grateful for her, too, and her simple goodness.
One of the Birdwhistle boys stood up to bear his testimony, all the while grinning at his twin in the third row. The bishop strongly suspected they’d had a wager or a dare between them as to who had the courage to stand up. It wasn’t the best motivation, he thought, but it was a start. Then he saw something he had never dreamed of seeing. Up the aisle, from the overflow area, came Ralph Jernigan, plodding along with a look of dogged determination that would have been better suited to a man on his way to the guillotine. He nodded curtly in the bishop’s direction as he climbed the three steps to the stand.
He took a moment to glance right and left before he cleared his throat and began to speak.
“Read somewhere that bearing a testimony makes it stronger. Here to test that idea. I need I need to be stronger. Need to find that peace the lady just talked about. Here because our good bishop came to my place when I told him not to and read to me what our prophet said about the war and all. Bishop said it would make him stronger if I came today, and I owe him that much. Good man, our bishop. Knows what he’s doing. I support him, me and Linda, too. We believe in God. Believe in the Church. Thanks. Um amen.”
“Amen,” echoed the congregation in stunned surprise, and the bishop’s amen was strong.
“Thanks, Ralph,” he whispered, as the man retreated in almost unseemly haste from his ordeal.
There followed a few other testimonies, but later, Bishop Shepherd remembered little of them. He was flying high on the wings of one man’s heroic effort to grow and show appreciation and gain the peace of the Lord that passes all understanding.
Chapter Five
* * *
“to serve his children gladly”
At the end of the testimony meeting, the bishop spotted Thomas Rexford Jr. talking to a group of admirers and fans as he migrated toward the foyer and, the bishop suspected, an escape route home or to a well-known donut shop not far from the meetinghouse. The bishop exited the chapel through the funeral door at the front of the chapel and intercepted T-Rex as the young man came out through the glass double doors of the building.
“Thomas Rexford!” He grabbed the boy’s beefy hand and shook it firmly. “The mighty T-Rex strikes again! Man, that was a magnificent end to the game. Don’t know when I’ve yelled so loud.”
“Aw you were there, Bish? That’s so cool. Thanks for comin’.”
“My pleasure. And Jamie’s, and Buddy Osborne’s. Thought those two were going to bring the bleachers down, they were jumping up and down so hard.”
“Yeah?” Thomas grinned.
“Sure. They really look up to you. All the young guys do.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to keep giving ’em something to cheer about.”
“You do that. We’ll all be watching. Say, Thomas, which Sunday School class do you go to?”
“Huh? Well, you know the one for my age group.”
“Oh Brother Birdwhistle’s class?”
“Um yeah. Only, I don’t feel so hot, today. Thought I’d head home, rest up.”
“Right. Boy, I’d love to do the same. Fasting’s never been easy for me, you know? I get so hungry, and headachy and tired.” The bishop sighed. “Funny thing, but I keep thinking about how when I was about fifteen, some of us guys would sneak out after fast and testimony meeting and make a donut run down to AM/PM Bakery. Can you believe that? We tried to justify it, you see, because testimony meeting was over, and we figured we’d done about all we could do in the fasting department.”
T-Rex’s face was an interesting study. He had gone red, starting with his neck, when donuts were mentioned, and he turned his head to one side, his eyes narrowed as he listened in disbelief. “Aw, Bishop you didn’t do no such thing!”
“Did, honest. I’m not proud of it now, of course, because I know the value of fasting, even when or maybe especially when it’s hard. Plus, I learned not to buy things on Sunday unless there’s a real emergency. But back then, it sure seemed like the thing to do!”
T-Rex looked down, his massive shoe squishing a bug on the cement step. His bishop suspected the young man felt about as trapped as that bug.
“Boy, those donuts were good. Never tasted better than they did on fast Sundays. My favorite was the custard-filled with chocolate icing. Which one do you like best?”
The boy looked miserable. “Cinnamon twists, I reckon. Come on, Bish how’d you know what I was gonna do?”
The bishop smiled. “I didn’t, Thomas. But I guess the Lord did. Hey, if you’ve got a minute, why don’t you come into the office with me, and we’ll have a little visit? I wanted to talk to you about a couple of things, anyway.”
Thomas followed him dispiritedly into the office and flung himself down in a chair.
“You didn’t really go for donuts, did you?” he asked. “You just said that, to get me to admit where I was headed.”
The bishop raised both hands. “Honest, Thomas, I did. Many times. Tell you what you ask Brother Bill Nettles about it. He was one of the other guys who went. He’ll tell you. He drove.”
“How’d you get away with it?”
“Well, now, that had better remain my secret,” the bishop replied with a grin. “Maybe we just didn’t have leaders who cared enough to head us off. Not that going for a donut is some kind of major sin, Thomas, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that there’s a better way. There are more important things than satisfying our hungers right away.”
“I reckon, Bishop, but like you said, it’s hard. I mean, I’m a big guy, and if I don’t eat pretty regular, I don’t have much energy, and my strength starts to go. Yeah, and I get headaches, too. I just don’t feel good when I try to fast.”
“I don’t reckon anybody does, though some folks seem to do better at it than others. Or maybe they just don’t complain. I try to think about the Savior, who fasted for forty days. Of course, we’re not capable of that and the Church suggests we not try for more than twenty-four hours . . .”
“Huh! No danger of that, with me!”
“Not for you or me, but some folks think the longer the better, especially when they’re plagued with really tough problems, and begging the Lord for help.”
Thomas shook his head. “Gotta confess, Bish I don’t really get this fasting bit. How come doin’ without food and water’s supposed to make your prayers go farther, or somethin’?”
The bishop nodded in understanding. “It’s interesting, how it works. Seems like, most of the time, we feel pretty self-sufficient, like we can handle things ourselves. But when we fast, we begin to realize how dependent we are on our daily food, and then there’s some kind of crossover that happens, especially if we’re fasting for a purpose, and in the right spirit. We begin to realize how dependent we are on the Lord, for our lives and all we have and how much we need Hi
s help in all our trials and temptations. In other words, it humbles us. Personally, I think that’s why we see so many folks get tearful at testimony meeting. They’ve become humble enough that the Spirit of the Lord can touch them and make them realize how precious their lives and families are, and how meaningful their testimonies are of the Savior his atonement and his gospel.”
T-Rex leaned forward in his chair and dropped his head down, leaving the bishop only the top of his head to address.
“See, when things are going well, it’s perfectly easy to sail through life and give little thought to those things. Fasting reminds us of what’s really important physically and spiritually. We need spiritual feeding just as much as we need physical food. Even donuts.”
Thomas looked up and frowned. “Well, it just makes me hungry, and all I can think about is how soon can I eat again.”
“Uh-huh, I used to feel the same. In fact, when I was a kid, fasting was the only thing I didn’t like about the Church. But over the years, I’ve learned its value. You keep trying, Thomas, and I bet you will, too. I’ll tell you one thing that helps, and that is to try to focus on a reason for fasting. It could be a personal problem, or wanting to strengthen your testimony, or it could be for somebody else a loved one who’s sick, or a friend who’s having some trouble. Focus your fasting and prayer during that time on that problem, and try to believe it’ll help. You’ll be surprised.”
“Huh.”
There was that ubiquitous “huh” again. His secretary used it; his kids used it; and the young people of the ward used it. As he interpreted it, the expression seemed to mean, “I hear you, but I’m not agreeing or disagreeing, I’m just acknowledging that you spoke, and registering what you said.”
“One other thing about fasting,” he said. “And I know you’ve been taught this from Primary up and that’s the fast offering donating the money you would have used for food to the Church for aiding the poor. When you begin earning your own way, you’ll want to include that.”
Mercies and Miracles Page 5