Love's Compass

by Gade, Carla; Franklin, Darlene;

  “I remember the climb, the fall…nothing after that. I don’t know what would have happened if I had been alone. I guess I was lucky. You came back.”

  “That wasn’t luck. That was God. He’s not done with you yet.”

  “There you go, preaching at me again.” But his protest was halfhearted. She had saved his life.

  A frown flickered on her face. “Do you remember waking up at all?”

  He shook his head. “It’s a blank until I woke up here.”

  She stepped back. “Think you can stay by yourself for a few minutes? Sani said you should eat.”

  “I can handle it. I’m a big boy.” He watched her walk to the door, dressed in a skirt and blouse similar to what Sarah wore, her hips swaying gently. No matter what she wore, even if it were a dress made from flour sacks, she drew his eye. She was beautiful, inside and out. He wasn’t sure which side he loved more.

  She brought in a bowl of the same steaming soup that Sani had given him before. When she brought the spoon to his mouth, he tried to lean forward to swallow the liquid, but the back of his head protested. She tipped the spoon over his lips, and half of it fell down his chin.

  Handkerchief in hand, she cleaned his skin. “I apologize. Can you tell I haven’t had much experience doing this? Although I did play a nurse in a movie one time.”

  “Practice makes perfect?” They made it through another ten spoonfuls, her aim improving with each swipe. “What does a man have to do to get real food around here?”

  “Sani said he is bringing you some mutton later.”

  “Mutton…like lamb chops?”

  “Sheep. I’ve had it. It’s delicious.”

  “Steak. Rare. Baked potato. Apple pie.” He accepted more soup. “I was looking forward to some city food when I got back to Denver this weekend. Are you sure I can’t leave?”

  She shoved more soup into his mouth to quiet him. “Can you walk out of here yet?”

  “I think I hear an echo.”

  “Sani says you should be ready to start exercises in a day or two. And I won’t leave until you’re better. I’ve already written to the director of the play I’m supposed to appear in next, explaining the situation.”

  He swallowed a few more mouthfuls, then pushed away the spoon, feeling full. “No more. You don’t have to do that, you know. Stay here.”

  “I know I don’t.” A smile played around her mouth. “I want to.”

  By the time Muriel had put away the bowl, Rex had closed his eyes. She lifted his shoulders and laid him down against the pillows. Bristles covered his chin, the beginning of a good beard, together with the mustache growing over his lips. Too bad he spent all his time behind the camera; he’d look good on the screen. The thought brought a blush to her face.

  Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since early that morning. She brought in a bowl of the same corn soup and quickly spooned it down. Some of their flat bread would sop up the broth. She had rediscovered her appetite since she had arrived at the village. If she stayed here much longer, she would find herself needing to lose a few pounds.

  Nascha headed in her direction, together with four other people. “Ya’ah’tee.” Muriel had learned the familiar greeting. Hoping to cram as much information as possible into her time in the village, she asked the words for various everyday items. The first step in communicating God’s love must involve speaking the same language.

  Nascha came forward, Bible clasped in her hands. “Since Mr. Rex Pride cannot move, I asked Sani if we could come here. I knew you wanted to take part in the Bible study. He said yes.” She nodded, and Muriel sensed her friend came not only for Muriel’s sake but also for Rex’s.

  “That’s thoughtful. You caught me while I’m eating. But Rex just fell asleep. I’m not sure—”

  “Sani said he should stay awake.”

  Yanaba followed, together with a couple of the young women who had attended last week, as well as one of the elders. Disappointment fluttered in Muriel’s stomach when Sani didn’t return. In spite of the smaller attendance, she took heart from the presence of the elder. She searched her memory for names as she finished up the soup. Doli, Kai, Mosi, Ahiga, Ashkii, Bidziil. Something like that.

  Did the people present share Sani’s doubts about the truth of the stories Nascha had shared last week? She shook her head to clear the doubts. God was here, and He was at work.

  She took a seat by Rex’s bed. His eyelids fluttered open. “What?”

  “Nascha brought the Bible study here, so I could attend.”

  “Wasn’t that nice of her.” Mirth danced in Rex’s eyes.

  “And Sani said you should stay awake. Do you feel up to sitting again?”

  His nod stopped halfway, settling back into his pillow. “Maybe later.”

  Taking the chair beside him, Muriel realized the room had quieted, everyone waiting for her. Nodding, she acknowledged their consideration, and smiled to encourage her friend.

  Nascha opened her Bible about three quarters through, somewhere in the New Testament, Muriel guessed, and spoke briefly. Was she translating as she read? Muriel didn’t know. In the mail she had sent out, she had included an order for a Navajo Bible.

  “Is this all going to be in their language?” Rex whispered. “She’s telling quite a story.”

  Muriel nodded, showing him the Bible. “She’s talking about the time Jesus calmed a storm.” She pointed to the relevant words. After he read them, she passed the Bible to Yanaba.

  Nascha added actions to her words, as if she had been taking acting lessons from Muriel all summer long. Her gestures suggested the raging storm, Jesus’ calming words, the surprise and awe in the disciples’ faces when they said, “‘What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?’”

  “Help me sit. I want to see.”

  After she helped him sit, he leaned forward, watching. When Nascha reached a break in her narrative, the elder spoke. He held up the Bible and pointed to a picture of Jesus on the cross. He appeared to be asking a question.

  Muriel prayed while Nascha answered his question. This time, the others interrupted her, asking questions, shaking their heads. Muriel sensed their shock at the awful torture that crucifixion represented. But would they understand the meaning behind His death? She could only pray.

  After a while, Nascha surprised her by switching to English. “One of the things I liked going to the chapel at the film was the time they spent in prayer. These people shared their lives. They talked about things that made them angry, sad, or happy. They talked about their families, about missing their children or their spouses. They talked like a family, and then they talked to a God they couldn’t see about their problems.” She smiled at Muriel. “I learned that God answered their prayers. I wanted to be part of their family. To know the God who was their father.” She stopped. “I will pray today. We will pray for Mr. Rex Pride. We will pray for Muriel, who is missing her family. My mother’s back is hurting. Does anyone else have something they want to pray about?”

  No one spoke for a moment, and Muriel prayed that God would use this prayer time. Beside her, Charlie stirred. “The corn needs rain. If Jesus can stop rain, He can make it rain, too.”

  Nascha nodded and waited to see if anyone else would speak. As the silence lengthened, Muriel fought the urge to fidget in her chair. Then Nascha spoke a few words and closed her eyes, folding her hands. God listened to different languages all day long. Muriel knew the Bible wasn’t written in English, of course, but she had always heard God’s word in English. Once again she thanked God that Nascha could share the good news of Jesus in their own language.

  A week later, Rex got into a chair before the Bible study. Sani promised he could start walking on crutches this week. Sitting in a chair was a welcome first step.

  From his seat he could see out the door. Sunshine baked the air with golden hues. The rest of what he could see out the opening looked like it had come from the same artist’s pale
tte: brown dirt, beige sand, rust rock. If only film captured color, he could bring the stern beauty of the landscape to life.

  “Look at you.” Muriel entered the room, a wide smile on her face. “It is good to see you doing better.”

  “What? Are you tired of me yelling at you about getting out of bed?”

  “Where’s that echo?” She cocked her head. “It’s getting softer. Pretty soon I won’t hear it at all, as soon as you’re up and about.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me on that score.” Muriel had been a saint. She hadn’t let his bad moods, complaints, or occasional curses keep her away. Day-by-day, she demonstrated the depth of her faith, her commitment to live by the word she professed.

  Over the past week, he had come to a better understanding of why Muriel kept insisting “I’m not a good person. I’m a sinner saved by grace.”

  She didn’t always hide her distaste of the dishes served at meals. Once she had displayed a flash of anger when Rex tried to stand before Sani had given his permission. She still came out ahead of most people he knew, but she wasn’t perfect. And according to what he heard, that’s what God demanded: perfection. Never telling a white lie, never feeling envy, never disobeying your parents. No one lived up to that standard.

  “Nascha offered to teach in English today, for our sakes. I told her I would enjoy that.” She gestured with the slim volume she held in her hand. “I brought my Bible, in case she wants to borrow it. We got her Navajo Bible this week, but she might want to read from the English.”

  The group had grown by one person this week, a man about Charlie’s age. When Sarah read from her Navajo Bible, the group leaned forward, as if drawn by the magnet of the words.

  “Muriel, please read the Bible in English.”

  “I’ll let you do the honors.” She handed Rex the Bible, pointing to the passage. “Verse sixteen.”

  Rex peered at the words, wishing he could plead bad eyesight. “Verse sixteen?” At Muriel’s nod, he read aloud. “‘For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’” He got the basic meaning, although “only begotten” confused him a bit. Begotten suggested fathering a child—God’s only child. Perhaps it was clearer in the Navajo Bible. Too bad he didn’t speak Navajo.

  Nascha began speaking. “I have told you some stories about this Jesus. He was a good man, a powerful man. He did things only God could do. He taught people to love each other.”

  Exactly. Rex had never argued with the Christian religion or their moral tenets, started by one of the greatest men who had ever lived. Maybe Sarah understood the truths behind her faith better than Muriel did.

  However, Sarah didn’t stop there. “But Jesus was more than that. The verse Mr. Rex Pride read says He is God’s only Son. He came to earth because God loves us.”

  Rex’s leg hurt, and he focused on Sarah’s words to keep his mind off the pain. The themes of sin, punishment, salvation, and God’s free gift sounded different coming from her lips. With her new approach to old truths, they conveyed meaning that had escaped him before.

  “When we pray in a few minutes, I will say words that will help you ask for this gift if you want to.”

  He found himself mouthing the words as Nascha prayed. But when he reached the part where she said, “I know that I am a sinner, that I have done wrong things,” something in his spirit balked. A God who loved everyone wouldn’t condemn a man who did the best he could. He would reward someone who tried. Someone like—Rex. He closed his heart against the stirrings Sarah’s testimony had in him. Once he got away from this forsaken corner of the world, he would regain his sense of balance. No need to change his whole way of life because of a few weeks in the desert.

  Even though she kept her eyes open, Muriel prayed throughout the entire meeting. Rex drank in every word; she sneaked a glance at him during the prayer and saw him mouthing the words with Sarah.

  Her inner “praise God” halted when his lips stopped moving. He shoved his right hand under his left arm and leaned back in the chair. “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” Like King Agrippa, he came so close but stayed so far away. But five others in the hogan needed Christ, and she prayed with renewed fervor.

  After the Amen, Charlie stood. “I accepted this Jesus and His gift of salvation.”

  His friend—a first-time visitor—also stood. “I have also.”

  Nascha let the silence linger. The elder shook his head, and Muriel felt another sting of disappointment. If he took the step to receive Christ, others would follow his example.

  Nascha prayed, thanking God for the new believers, and the group broke apart. She spoke with Charlie and his friend, offering them her Bible. Muriel smiled. Her English Bible would return to her friend’s hands. Perhaps she should order a dozen Bibles in faith that God would continue working among the people of this village.

  “Do you think Sani will fuss if I lay back down? I overdid it, and my legs hurt like…Well, I won’t say it here.”

  The angry, complaining Rex had returned. The possibility that he fought God’s conviction only brought Muriel small comfort.

  Chapter 15

  Now that you don’t need to stay with me all day long, Sarah can hold the Bible study in her own home. After all”—he tapped the wrapping on his left leg—“Sani says I can leave this week.”

  “Very well.” Muriel didn’t move. The Bible study wouldn’t start for a while longer.

  A week had passed since Rex had rejected God’s conviction. Muriel wanted to rail against his decision. Today might be the last time he would hear the Gospel. Of course, God wasn’t limited to her presence in Rex’s life. Still, a small piece of her died because she might never know the outcome. They would go their separate ways, further apart than when they first met, in spite of everything they had gone through—or perhaps because of it.

  Like Paul, Rex kicked hard against God’s pricks. Remembering that, Muriel strove for patience whenever he barked at her. She remained firm when he questioned Sani’s wisdom. She practiced a loving attitude when he sneered at something she or Nascha said about the Lord.

  With each effort expended, her burden of guilt grew heavier. If she and Rex had agreed to film scenes in the top cliff dwellings, Rex might not have climbed that fateful day. In the privacy of her bed at night, she cried. She had hoped God would do the impossible, bring him to faith, so the path would be cleared for romance between them.

  She was glad Rex had turned back into a harsh taskmaster. It made it easier to leave him behind.

  “I’m going for a walk.” Rex stomped out of the hogan, his crutches hitting the ground in a regular rhythm.

  Muriel followed him. “Can I get you something?”

  “I’m good. I don’t need you to wait on me hand and foot anymore.”

  She would welcome someone who could string more than two civil sentences together in a row.

  “What are you staring at? Get on to your Bible study before you’re late. Come back when you’ve finished your hallelujahs.”

  Muriel had had enough. “I accept that you don’t believe the way I do. Show the same respect to me that I show to you.”

  His mouth twisted in what she could only describe as a sneer. “That’s expecting too much from an old reprobate like me.”

  “We’ll pray for you today. That you will continue to recover and leave as you want to.”

  “Can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?”

  She paused, holding her breath and counting. She couldn’t win this argument. Letting him have the last word, she left without saying anything more.

  “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you getting into trouble.”

  Benny ambled along beside Rex. No matter how fast he wielded his crutches, he felt slow, awkward. Face it, he would stay grouchy until he could walk unaided. He measured his progress by how far he could walk before needing to rest. He had worked up to three ho
mes. “Plain and simple, I was stupid.”

  Benny guffawed. “The great Rex Pride can admit that he is less than perfect. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

  Rex managed to walk past one more house, to a rock that served as a convenient resting place. His right foot caught on a pebble, tipping his ankle ever so slightly. Growling, he plopped down on the rock. “I’ve had to live with a lot of things I don’t like for the last few weeks.”

  Benny squeezed next to him. “The truth is, if I had been there, I’d have been climbing the cliff with you. We both do whatever it takes to get the shots we want. I thank the Lord I was well out of harm’s way when you tried the impossible.”

  There he went with the God talk. In so many ways, Benny was unlike Muriel. A risk taker and a visionary, he had a wild reputation in his youth. He fit Rex’s perception of a “sinner,” yet he had changed.

  He didn’t say any of that. “There’d be no point in both of us getting banged up. Everybody climbed the ladders when the canyon flooded. I didn’t figure another level or two would be any different.”

  “Like I said. I’d have been with you.” Benny swung his hands between his knees, studying the landscape. “This place is incredible. Peaceful.”

  Rex understood. However, after weeks filled with words he couldn’t understand, Bible stories he didn’t want to hear, and food that left him hungry for a good American meal, he wanted to leave. “Try staying here for as long as I have, and you might not feel that way.”

  Using the crutch as a pointer, he turned Benny’s attention to the desert surrounding the village. “I keep thinking I wish we could capture this in color. The quality of light is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Black and white doesn’t do it justice.”

  “Someday.”

  Benny and Rex sighed at the same time. “Add it to your list of devices to invent.”

  Benny opened his canteen and took a deep swallow. “I had begun to forget how dry it is out here.”