01 The Calling of Emily Evans

by Janette Oke

  She was silent for a while, and then she went on. “But one day I was reading my Bible, trying to find some sense to life, when I came across a verse that says that we’re forgiven just as much we are able to forgive. Well, that stopped me right there. I knew—I knew that if I was to ever have peace with God, I had to forgive him.” Her eyes rested on her husband’s wasted form. “Even if he had caused me pain and suffering,” she continued. “At first I thought I’d never be able to do it. And I couldn’t have—in my own strength. But God helped me. I did forgive—and with that forgiveness I learned to love again.

  “Oh, not like at first. Not like I loved the young man who won my heart long ago, but rather like a mother—pitying and caring. He was not just hurting us—but himself. I sometimes think that he has suffered most of all.”

  She stopped again. “And so, though I still feared him—though I could no longer respect him, I didn’t hate him either. I loved—but in a different way.”

  Emily felt she understood. In a way she loved him, too—this broken, degenerate man.

  “He’ll not make it this time,” the woman went on quietly, “an’ it grieves my heart. For I know he isn’t ready to go. He hasn’t prepared to meet his Maker. There isn’t one thing more I can do to help him. He’s made his own choices—and he must face the consequence. I have prayed over and over that he be given one more chance—one more chance to start over. And God has answered that prayer—time and again. Now I realize that he will not change—no matter how many chances he is given.” This time her reserve broke and her voice caught in her throat. “It’s a hard thing to accept the truth—but—I have to give him up now. There’s no use putting my children through any more pain.”

  There were tears falling as she stroked the still hand of the man on the bed. Emily’s heart ached for both of them—for the woman in her pain and for this man who, spiritually, was already dead. She stirred in her chair and said she would see to the fire.

  “God,” Emily prayed when she was alone, “I’ve asked often for this family to be relieved of their suffering and pain—but I didn’t mean this way, Lord. Isn’t there another way? Is she right? Has he had his last chance?”

  Emily put wood on the fire and paced the small kitchen before she was ready to once again take her place beside Annie Travis.

  All through the long night they kept their vigil and into the next day. At two o’clock he breathed one last struggling breath and lay still. Emily knew he was gone. She knew that Mrs. Travis was aware of the fact also. There were no tears. The woman simply stood to her feet and drew the sheet slowly over the face of her husband.

  “It’s over,” she said sorrowfully. “You can send for Doc Andrew. He will need to prepare a death certificate.”

  Emily nodded and left for town. “Oh, God,” she prayed, “if he only had made his peace with you. I didn’t want it to end this way. I had so hoped and prayed ...” But with a heavy heart Emily had to face the truth that there would be no more chances for Wilbur Travis.

  The postmaster handed Emily a letter. She gazed at it curiously, not recognizing the handwriting. Maybe it’s from one of the officers of the church telling of some coming event, she pondered as she started for home. It certainly isn’t from anyone I know.

  Emily tossed the letter on the table and removed her coat and bonnet. Walter sauntered up to greet her, and Emily picked him up, thankful for the warmth and companionship of the friendly cat. It was so much nicer than coming home to an empty house. She put another stick of wood in the stove and pushed the teakettle forward, knowing it would soon be time to put her supper on. When she had made her simple preparations, she sat down at the kitchen table and tore off the end of the envelope.

  Emily could see that the note was not more than a few lines in length. She let her eyes fall quickly to the end of the message.

  The letter was signed simply, Shad.

  Emily’s heart began to pound. What does Shad have to say to me?

  Dear Emily, he wrote, I’m sure this letter will come as a bit of a surprise to you. You may have forgotten all about me—but I assure you, I have not forgotten about you. Aunt Moll has kept me posted on your welfare and your work.

  I missed my yearly trip to the farm and also the annual Autumn Picnic. I would have loved to be there—but I have been unusually busy.

  I plan to visit the farm next weekend. Could I possibly see you? I have some things I’d like to discuss, and a letter doesn’t seem appropriate.

  You can send your answer home with Aunt Moll. She will be in to do her grocery shopping on Thursday as usual, and she promised me she would drop by. A simple yes or no will do—though I do hope with all of my heart it will be a yes.

  Sincerely,

  Shad.

  Emily was both puzzled and exhilarated. What does it all mean? she wondered. Shad is coming home, and he has much he wants to talk about. Where has he been, and what has he been doing? How come Mrs. Reilly hasn’t mentioned him? It doesn’t sound as if there’s been any kind of rift between the Reillys and their nephew.

  And so her thoughts churned round and round in her mind. Emily was glad it was Thursday. She was sure she couldn’t have waited one more day for some insight into the unusual letter.

  When Mrs. Reilly called to drop off Emily’s eggs and milk, she had a little smile about her lips. “Did you get a letter?” she wanted to know.

  Emily nodded. “I did. But it was rather—rather strange. Shad didn’t say where he was or where he’s been. It was all somewhat mysterious. What’s been happening, anyway?”

  “Now, Emily,” began Mrs. Reilly, “Shad made me promise long ago that I would say nothing until he felt it the right time. I guess he feels that the time is now—he’s coming this weekend, you know.”

  Emily felt her heart pounding, but she was still puzzled. “I know. He—he asked me to tell you whether he could—could see me or not.”

  “And what is your answer?” inquired Mrs. Reilly.

  “Well, of course I will see him,” responded Emily quickly and then blushed. “I mean—I often wondered about him, how he was doing and all.”

  Mrs. Reilly smiled again. “When?” she asked.

  “When—when will he want to see me?”

  “Well, as soon as he can, I expect. He’s arriving Friday. Tomorrow. Around four, I should think. He can pick you up and bring you out to the house.”

  “No,” said Emily impulsively. “Tell him I’ll meet him about—about five—by the fishing hole. He’ll know the one I mean,” she finished in a rush.

  Mrs. Reilly smiled again and leaned to kiss Emily on the cheek. “Shad will be pleased, I’m sure. And after you’ve had your little talk, come for supper,” she invited. “In fact, plan to come for the night. We might want to spend Saturday together.”

  Emily puzzled even more as the woman left the house, but she had little time to dream about what might happen on the morrow. If she was to while away her Saturday visiting the Reillys, she had to prepare for Sunday lessons now. She at once set to work, though she did find it terribly hard to concentrate.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Partners in Service

  Emily did manage to collect her thoughts enough to have her Sunday school lesson and her little sermon ready. She even had a bit of time to spare and carefully washed her hair and brushed it until it was shining.

  She pressed her best skirt and tied a new ribbon on her favorite blouse, then polished her worn walking shoes with the remainder of her black polish.

  I don’t quite know why I’m fussing so, she told herself. But deep down inside, Emily did know. Shad was coming home. She didn’t know why he wished to see her, but for the moment it was enough that he did.

  Emily held herself in check until four o’clock and then she could stand it no longer. It would take her only about thirty-five minutes to arrive at the spot on the creek bank—but it would do no harm if she was early. Shad won’t know of my impatience. He won’t arrive until five, she reas
oned.

  With burning cheeks and pounding heart Emily set out.

  It was a beautiful summer day. Lazy clouds drifted loosely across the sky, looking like wandering sheep feeding in a meadow of blue. That one looks like a horse at full gallop, she noted. And that one like a rose with silvery petals. Oh, now it’s changing into a frog, ready to make a giant leap. Emily laughed at her own imaginings and tried to slow her hurried pace.

  “It’s not proper to be so eager to meet a young man,” she scolded under her breath and forced herself to slow down.

  The wild roses filled the summer air with the sweetness of their blossoms, drawing the honey bees to fill their cups at the waiting storehouse. Emily smiled as she watched them dipping into one flower after another.

  Emily was intent on reaching the creek and sitting beneath the shade of the poplar trees so she might quiet her impatient heart and control her emotions before Shad arrived. But to Emily’s surprise, Shad was already there and waiting in the very spot where she expected to gain her control.

  “Hello,” she greeted him shyly. “It’s been a long time.”

  Shad stepped forward and took her hand in his. “It has,” he said, looking deeply into Emily’s shining eyes.

  He released her hand and led her to the place where he had spread his jacket on a fallen log.

  “Sit down,” he invited, his voice filled with eagerness. And Emily was only too glad for a chance to sit.

  “You haven’t changed,” remarked Shad rather shyly, and then added softly, “I’m glad.”

  Emily felt the color rise in her face. You haven’t changed either, she was going to say. He still made her heart beat faster, her cheeks flush. But no. No, that isn’t right. There is something different about you. I’m not quite sure what it is yet, but—you seem—you seem more—more ... her thoughts went on.

  But Shad was speaking.

  “Boy, I have practiced this little speech over and over, and now that the time has come to make it—I don’t know where to start.”

  Emily looked at him with questions in her eyes.

  Shad ran a hand through his thick hair and laughed nervously. “Well, I guess the best place to start is at the beginning. So much for prepared speeches.”

  He laughed again and reached for Emily’s hand. She did not withdraw it, even though she wondered at his action.

  “Remember when we first met?” asked Shad, and Emily nodded slowly.

  She didn’t suppose she would ever forget.

  “Well, you—you impressed me. The way you took my teasing. Your seriousness over your call to the ministry. But at the same time—to think of you as the—the preacher in town made me—well, I felt mixed-up and angry.

  “You see, my father had been a preacher—and at one time I thought that I would be a preacher, too, and then my mother got sick. Really sick—but there was no money for a doctor. We watched her get weaker and weaker every day.”

  Shad paused, the memory still very painful on his face.

  “And then, without warning, we lost Dad. He had been the strong one—but he was gone—suddenly—with a heart attack. There was no money, no pension, no place for us to live. We had to move into a tiny two-room shack, and I watched as Mother’s health continued to fail.”

  Emily’s eyes misted. She could well imagine the pain of the young boy.

  “Well, I decided if that was the way God took care of His preachers, I wasn’t going to be one. And I told Mother so in no uncertain words.”

  He paused again.

  “Uncle George and Aunt Moll heard of our situation. They came and got us both, and we lived with them until Mother’s death. As soon as Mother was gone, I headed for the city and a job that would care for me in my old age.

  “I had a good job—when I met you. But I wasn’t happy. And there you were, a little bit of a girl, struggling with the work of running a church. I knew that if I—and other young men like me—hadn’t shirked my responsibilities, you wouldn’t need to carry all that weight alone.

  “It bothered me. But I tried not to let it show. Instead, I had the crazy idea of wooing you away from your calling.

  “Well,” he smiled softly at Emily, “that didn’t work either. You put me in my place, in quick order. And I also realized that if it had worked, I would have been terribly disappointed in you. I guess I wanted you to be stronger—more committed—than I had been.

  “But I still couldn’t get away from the fact that you had been true to your calling and I had turned my back on it. It bothered me—day and night.

  “At last I decided to do something about it. I wasn’t happy anyway. I might as well do what I had been called to do.

  “So I made things right with the Lord and set off to do what I should have done in the first place.”

  “You mean—you mean—?” asked Emily.

  “I quit my job and went off to train for the ministry.”

  Emily’s eyes grew big.

  “You’re a minister?”

  “Not quite. I still have some more schooling ahead.”

  “Oh-h,” murmured Emily, her voice barely audible.

  His grip on her hand tightened.

  “What will Aunt Moll say?” wondered Emily.

  Shad laughed. “Aunt Moll has already said everything there is to be said,” he told her.

  “She knows?”

  “She has always known. Aunt Moll has sent regular packages of cookies and toilet articles. She said that they were more than happy to have Mother’s prayers answered and her son in the ministry—where he belongs.” He blinked quickly several times. Emily tightened her grip on his hand.

  “Aunt Moll never said a thing to me,” she said in a puzzled tone.

  “That’s because I asked her not to.”

  Emily was shocked, and her expression told him so.

  “I wanted to be sure,” he explained. “Sure that I was going into the ministry for the right reasons. Because I had a call—not because I had a crush.”

  Emily felt her face flush again.

  “And do you have a call?” she asked softly.

  “I do. I’m sure of it now. God has confirmed it in a number of ways. I don’t feel worthy to serve, but I am willing to give my life to it. He will need to take me—and use me. I’m nothing in myself.”

  Emily smiled. “That’s the best news I’ve ever heard!” she exclaimed. “No wonder you didn’t want to share it in a letter.”

  Shad released her hand and stood to his feet. For a moment he watched the swirl of the creek water. A dragonfly dipped for a water bug. Above them baby robins quarreled in the nest over who would get the proffered worm.

  “That isn’t what I didn’t want to write in the letter,” he said slowly.

  Emily’s eyes widened. Shad reached for her hand and helped her to her feet.

  He was very close to her. She could feel her heart pounding. She felt she should move back to get some room, some perspective, but she was rooted to the spot, not wanting to move away.

  “What I couldn’t write in the letter is the—the fact that I care for you, Emily. Deeply. You have both my respect and my—my love. I was hoping—praying—that you might find it in your heart to honor me with permission to call—to write when I’m away—and perhaps, if God wills it ...”

  Emily’s breath caught in her throat. She wondered if she was hearing him correctly.

  “Could you—would you, Emily?” he asked huskily.

  Emily wanted to answer but she couldn’t find the words.

  “I know this is sudden—that I have no reason to think you care at all for me—except—except the look in your eyes long ago when you told me that you’d pray. Have you prayed, Emily?”

  Emily nodded, still silent.

  “Has God answered?”

  “Oh-h, oh, yes,” murmured Emily with deep emotion.

  Shad reached out to take Emily by the shoulders. He looked searchingly into her hazel eyes.

  “And the answer?” he prompted.
r />   Emily swallowed. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked steadily into Shad’s. “It—it would seem the answer is yes,” she whispered. “God has called you again into His ministry. And—this time you are choosing obedience. I—I have never had a prayer answered more—more fully.” And Emily’s eyes shone with the marvel of answered prayer.

  Shad smiled and pulled her into his arms.

  “I’m so glad God answers prayer,” he whispered, and Emily blushed.

  “Oh, but I didn’t pray for this,” she protested hastily, drawing back, her face red at the thought that Shad might think she’d prayed for his love.

  But Shad quickly silenced her. “I did,” he said softly as his arms closed about her, holding her tenderly, his cheek against hers. “I did. If God so willed.”

  And Emily smiled softly to herself as her arms lifted slowly to encircle his neck.

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  with T. Davis Bunn