Robbie Taggart
Page 55
Everyone was silent a few moments. When Robbie next looked up, he saw that Jamie was quietly weeping.
Still no one spoke. Each of the men knew that she would say what was on her heart when she was ready. At last she composed herself, then gave a laugh in the midst of her tears.
“Robbie . . . Robbie,” she laughed. “Don’t think me sad about this! I have just been overwhelmed with all the changes that have taken place in you. What a man of God you have become! I don’t know what to say, Robbie, except that . . . I’m proud of you! And I pray for God’s richest blessings to follow you always!”
“I concur, Taggart,” added Edward warmly, extending his hand. “Whatever we can do to help! Perhaps you need money.”
“Thank you, Edward,” said Robbie graciously. “Your help with Ruth and Shan-fei will be wonderfully adequate. Other than that, I would rather be in a position to depend on the Lord.”
“Let me take care of your passage at least.”
“I will let you help with my daughter and mother-in-law when that time comes, but for myself, I think I should like to work my way back. It’s not only a matter of the money. Perhaps it’s the sailor in my blood surfacing again after all these years. You know, the Lord doesn’t eliminate the desires of our hearts, He fulfills them. I’m still a sailor, and proud to be the Lord’s sailor. To tell you the truth, the voyage from China was arduous for me having to sit and watch the other sailors work. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Edward. I think God is allowing me this opportunity for another reason also. I have for years longed to share the gospel on the sea. This may be my only such opportunity. On my last voyage as a sailor, many years ago, I had a mate who one day in a drunken whim delivered a sermon to us. The poor fellow was chided and scoffed at. Since then I’ve often wondered what his reception might have been had his words come from a sincere heart. I may be in for a disappointment; sailors can be a rowdy lot! But it is something I have to try.”
Later that day came what Robbie anticipated as a more difficult task. Happily, it did not turn out so.
He found Ruth in the vast Aviemere library, which she had discovered to be almost as fascinating as Donachie. Robbie smiled as he found her engrossed in Dickens, realizing anew how simple her life at the mission had been. It had been full of the best kind of spiritual influences, but what a place such as this could offer her!
She looked up and smiled. “Papa, we didn’t have Oliver Twist at home. It’s wonderful!”
“I need to intrude upon your reading for a moment, Ruth.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said, sliding over on the divan where she was seated to make room for him.
He sat down and placed his arm about her. “You know that I have been praying about returning to China.”
She nodded in reply.
“I believe God has at last spoken to me on the matter,” he went on. “But I feel Him saying that I am to go back alone . . . for now at least.”
“Alone? but, Papa!”
“Please, listen to me, dear. I told you when we left of the dangers. An evil man wants to hurt us, especially your grandmother. I must see how the work at the mission is faring, and I must go where the Lord directs me. But I have to see if it is safe before I put either of you in risk. I will send for you. Six months . . . a year, perhaps. I will not know until I get there.”
Tears began to fall from the young girl’s eyes.
“And what will become of us?” she asked disconsolately.
“I’ve spoken with Lord and Lady Graystone. They have agreed for you and your grandmother to live here, with them—”
“Here!” exclaimed Ruth, brightening.
“Yes, why?”
“Because I like Aviemere! Next to being with you, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.”
“Jamie—that is, Lady Graystone—has a great deal to offer you that I as a man could not. If I did not firmly believe that you would be gaining more from this than anything else, I would never do it. It will not be for a very long time.”
“I’ll miss you so much, Papa, even though I’m sure I’ll be happy.”
“And I you, little Chi-Yueh. But you must be strong. Your grandmother will need you more than ever. You are half Scot. Half of the blood that flows through your veins came from these Highlands. But your mother’s mother is Chinese all through. She will need an extra measure of God’s grace, and your love, to sustain her through this difficult time.”
“I love you, Papa! I will pray for you every day! I will always be proud that my father follows the Lord wherever He leads.”
The father and daughter embraced tenderly. After Robbie had wiped a fresh supply of tears from his daughter’s eyes, Robbie took Ruth’s hand and together they left the stately and somber walls of the library, and soon found themselves outside, in the cool, crisp, clear fall afternoon.
Hand in hand they walked, mostly in silence, across the fields, up and down several hillsides spread out below the great mountain, and found the rippling amber burn that had its source high on the slopes of Donachie. Up the stream they walked, then turned away, making their way back to the house under the shadow of the vast silent presence which set a tone of quiet majesty over the valley below.
For the rest of the afternoon they walked together, sharing tears a time or two, of mingled joy and sorrow. Robbie taught Ruth a couple songs in the thick Highland brogue, as well as one of his favorite little poems, Burns’s To a Mouse.
“It’s such a sad little story, Papa!” she exclaimed when he was through the recitation he had learned in childhood.
“Perhaps. But think of all the good that has come to the world from the wee mousie’s sacrifice. Things are not always what they appear. God always has deeper purposes.”
“Like your leaving and my staying here?”
“Yes, child. We cannot yet see what God’s purposes are. But if we are faithful to obey Him, they will be revealed to us in time.”
When they returned at length to the grand manor that was to be Ruth’s new home for a season, dusk had settled over the land. And she was reassured that no matter how far her father was from her, he and his little Chi-Yueh would ever be together in their hearts.
71
Lead Me Where I’m A-goin’
A blustery January wind blew off the starboard quarter of the old barque-rigged vessel as she made her way past the Lizzard. The captain had been doubtful of departing from Falmouth that morning, but worse weather had already hampered their progress two weeks and this might well be the fairest sea they would have until they reached the lower latitudes.
Robbie clasped his chilled arms about his chest as he watched the old promontory recede into the distance. He recalled that the last time he had viewed the same sight it had been a dozen years before he had again laid eyes on his homeland. How long would it be this time? How long before he again gazed into his daughter’s lovely eyes?
Not long he had promised her.
He had spoken the words with assurance. They were both in God’s hands, he knew that. Yet he had to pray continually for strength to bear the parting. Even at the same time, however, Robbie could not deny the growing surge of hopeful anticipation. Already on the ship he had found fertile soil for God’s message; all the voyage lacked was the presence of the Vicar himself.
Robbie sucked in a great draught of the chill air, then made his way forward to the prow of the ship. He was sailing toward his future, and before night fell he had to gaze out upon the open sea before him, with the whitewater curling up on either side of the great walls of the ship as the bow sliced through the icy water.
The sun was about to set, but even its vibrant rays of light piercing beneath the cover of clouds could not warm the winter sky. They had not encountered fair skies since leaving London, which had made for an arduous voyage thus far. But Robbie could not have minded less. He had feared that his handicap would hinder him. But the captain, an old acquaintance from the past who was willing to make some adjustments in the duty a
ssignments in order to have a man of Robbie’s experiences and capabilities aboard, had put him in charge of navigation, with the deck-related activities he could handle. There’d be no climbing aloft. That was hazardous enough with two hands. But Robbie was content that he had been allowed this chance to sail once more, and didn’t mind deferring the dangers to younger men.
As he stood looking out over the sea, with the wind whipping his hair about his head, his thoughts turned to Pike, whose injury had caused much hate and bitterness to eat away at his heart. How easily the same thing could have happened to him! Yet the cancerous thirst for revenge that could have obsessed him had been replaced instead by a thankful heart and a grand purpose in living each moment to the full.
“Lord,” he murmured into the chilly wind, “thank you for taking over my life, for remaking my heart, and for leading me along your paths!”
He wondered what was in store for him on this new voyage upon which he was bound. What would he find when he returned to China? If Wukiang was in the capable hands of his friends, as he suspected, with a strong core of native believers, what else might the Lord have planned for him? He had spoken to the mission board in London about Hunan—a province that had consistently remained hardened against the gospel. Might God direct him there?
Then he realized he did not need to know the answers to such questions. He was being led by the Lord of life, by the God of the land and the sea. And that was enough. He could trust the wisdom of his Maker, for all his life. He had never failed Robbie Taggart, Highland sailor and missionary.
As night fell, still Robbie stood on the fore-deck gazing into the distance, the timbers of the ship groaning beneath his feet, the rigging creaking behind him, and the familiar flapping of the sails high above him lending a cadence of mystery to the night. As the sea spray blew into his face, he recalled to mind an ancient sailor’s chant he had not thought of in years. Suddenly its meaning came clear to him as it never had when he had heard it in the days of his youth. Now he could almost hear the old words resounding out through the night, as if on the voices of a men’s choir, charting his course as he sped through the sea toward destinations unknown.
Painter of the evening sky,
Lighter of the heavens;
Won’t you color my heart, fill its darkest part,
Make it shine with the love you’ve given?
Charter of the unknown sea,
Guide my every decision;
For the endless sea in its mystery
Lies not beyond your vision.
Maker of the wind and wave,
Lead me where I’m a-goin’;
For a sailin’ man when you guide his hand,
Doesn’t care where the wind be blowin’.
Hey! hey! praises be
To the One who holds the wind and sea.
Hey! hey! praises be
To our God who dwells in majesty.
Afterword
The mystique of China, the Celestial Kingdom, has played upon the imagination of Westerners for centuries. The mysterious East offered riches untold, and fields of millions of souls to the eternally minded, “whitened and ready to harvest.” But it was the merchant, not the missionary, who first penetrated the vast Middle Kingdom. Unfortunately, this pattern continued to haunt the cause of Christianity in China.
The Franciscans came on the heels of the Polos. The Jesuits followed the Portuguese who opened the first European settlement in China, called Macao. Yet these traders and shippers by no means received an open welcome, and never could penetrate inland. Over and over the Chinese demonstrated their distrust of foreigners, nor did they desire their presence in their 5000-year-old empire.
Robert Morrison became the first Protestant missionary to take up residence in China. The year was 1807, and even he had hired himself out to the East India Company as a translator in order to secure a position in China. But his efforts, and those of subsequent Christians, were strictly controlled by the Chinese government and limited only to coastal areas.
It was the pressure of the merchant that finally changed these restrictions, with the infamous Opium Wars—the first beginning in 1839, the second in 1856. The treaties resulting from these conflicts forcefully opened to the Occidentals the stubborn portals of the dragon empire.
At last God’s emissaries were given free movement in China, but the stigma of the method in which this open-door policy had been obtained—through political and military conflicts—never ceased to follow them. Though the missionary movement prospered tremendously in the 19th century, as missions throughout many regions of China were established, anti-foreignism continued to be a constant threat.
Many came to China as so-called missionaries whose motives were self-serving and largely political. And these made it difficult for the large majority to establish fruitful relations with the wary Chinese peasants and villagers. Yet those who came were for the most part men and women of godly character, faithful to the gospel, and with a sincere desire to spread the love of Christ to the Chinese, for whom they developed a deep affection. Dr. Hudson Taylor of the China Inland Mission, perhaps the most well-known of the Christian missionaries to make China his home, was truly a pioneer in overseas missions work. He arrived in Shanghai in the 1850s and spent the next 45 years there until his death in 1901. He was followed by other courageous, farsighted men and women, such as Jonathan Go forth and the fictional Isaiah Wallace who went to that foreign, sometimes inhospitable land, in order to do their part to fulfill the Great Commission of the Lord.
In 1891, riots did indeed break out in Wuhu, Nanking and various other cities and villages along the Yangtze. These Missionary Riots continued on and off, precursors to the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, a much more violent and widespread attempt to rid China of foreign and Christian influences.
After the Boxer Rebellion was put down, Christianity flourished in 20th-century China under the leadership of nationals such as Watchman Nee. However, the work begun in the 19th century seemed to come to a devastating end with the Communist takeover in 1949, and for years little external evidence remained of the early work of the Jesuits, Robert Morrison, Hudson Taylor, and others.
Yet the seeds of God’s planting, wherever they may fall throughout the world, are never sown in vain. In every generation, new Robbie Taggarts are continually being raised up to carry the gospel on the four winds to the corners of the earth. And in God’s divine providence, even the great and mysterious land of China remains in His hand, awaiting the right moment for the seeds of His Spirit to again sprout forth into bloom.
About the Authors
Michael Phillips is a bestselling author with more than seventy of his own titles. In addition, he has served as editor/redactor of nearly thirty more books. He is known as the man responsible for the reawakened interest in George MacDonald of the last thirty years. In addition to the MacDonald titles adapted/edited for today’s reader, his publishing efforts in bringing back full-length quality facsimile editions also spawned renewed interest in MacDonald’s original work. Michael and his wife, Judy, spend time each year in Scotland, but make their home near Sacramento, California. Visit Michael’s website at www.macdonaldphillips.com
Judith Pella is a bestselling, award-winning author whose writing career spans more than two decades. Her in-depth historical and geographical research combines with her skillful storytelling to provide readers with dramatic, thought-provoking novels. She and her husband make their home in Scapoose, Oregon.
Books by Michael Phillips
Fiction
THE RUSSIANS*
The Crown and the Crucible
A House Divided
Travail and Triumph
THE STONEWYCKE TRILOGY*
The Heather Hills of Stonewycke
Flight from Stonewycke
Lady of Stonewycke
THE STONEWYCKE LEGACY*
Stranger at Stonewycke
Shadows over Stonewycke
Treasure of Stonewycke
THE SECRETS OF HEATHERSLEIGH HALL
Wild Grows the Heather in Devon
Wayward Winds
Heathersleigh Homecoming
A New Dawn Over Devon
SHENANDOAH SISTERS
Angels Watching Over Me
A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton
The Color of Your Skin Ain’t the Color of Your Heart
Together Is All We Need
CAROLINA COUSINS
A Perilous Proposal
The Soldier’s Lady
Never Too Late
Miss Katie’s Rosewood
CALEDONIA
Legend of the Celtic Stone
An Ancient Strife
THE HIGHLAND COLLECTION*
Jamie MacLeod: Highland Lass
Robbie Taggart: Highland Sailor
THE JOURNALS OF CORRIE BELLE HOLLISTER
My Father’s World*
Daughter of Grace*
On the Trail of the Truth
A Place in the Sun
Sea to Shining Sea
Into the Long Dark Night
Land of the Brave and the Free
A Home for the Heart
Grayfox
The Braxtons of Miracle Springs
A New Beginning
THE SECRET OF THE ROSE
The Eleventh Hour
A Rose Remembered
Escape to Freedom
Dawn of Liberty
AMERICAN DREAMS
Dream of Freedom
Dream of Life
Dream of Love
The Sword, the Garden, and the King
Heaven and Beyond
Angel Harp
Murder By Quill
From Across the Ancient Waters
Angel Dreams**
SECRETS OF THE SHETLANDS
The Inheritance
Nonfiction
The Eyewitness New Testament (3 volumes)
The Commands
The Commands of the Apostles