Refining Fire

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Refining Fire Page 14

by Tracie Peterson


  Walker speared a stalk of asparagus and drew it to his lips. He was completely undaunted. “I must say, asparagus has never been a favorite of mine. I would think a good potato might serve better.”

  “Potatoes are not served with fish, Pastor Walker. However, if you would rather, I can have your asparagus removed,” Lenore offered.

  “I cannot bear this,” Abrianna declared as she sprang to her feet. “Such rudeness shouldn’t be tolerated. This man is a guest in your house, and yet he acts with far less manners than the men I serve on the docks.”

  Kolbein rose. “Abrianna, please don’t let this ruin your time with us. It is apparent that Pastor Walker isn’t used to formal dinners. Let us be considerate and advance him some grace for his indiscretions.” He helped her retake her seat. Turning to Walker, he added, “Perhaps we might speak on a lighter subject.”

  Something was mentioned about the uncommonly nice weather, and then someone else brought up the beautiful abundance of flowers blooming in the parks and neighboring lawns. Abrianna began to relax a bit. The last thing she wanted to do was make things difficult for Lenore and Kolbein. Aunt Miriam had always said that if a person couldn’t say something nice about or to someone, then perhaps it was best to say nothing at all. It was a most difficult proposition for Abrianna, so she kept her mouth full of food in order to stave off words.

  By the time the servants cleared the table for dessert, it appeared that Pastor Walker finally understood appropriate dinner conversation. He complimented Kolbein and Lenore on their home without any reference to money and then shared some of his insights about the city of Seattle. Everyone seemed less guarded as the desserts were set on the table. But the peace was not to last. Once the chocolate-rose pound cake had been topped with a warm cream sauce and served to each person, the conversation once again plunged headlong into dangerous waters.

  “Wade, how are things going with your Bible study on Daniel?” Lenore asked.

  “Very well. We have nearly twenty men who attend each Thursday evening. I must say at first I wasn’t at all certain it would be something the men would want to attend. Most are hardened, grizzled men, whose lives have been lived around superstition and self-determination. At first, I think they came to get out of the cold and damp, but now they seem to be genuinely interested. We had a rousing conversation about King Nebuchadnezzar last week.”

  “Am I to understand that you, a common layman, are teaching the Word of God?” Pastor Walker looked quite disapproving.

  “I am,” Wade replied.

  “Wade is an elder at the church, so he’s hardly just a layman,” Kolbein offered.

  “I’m sorry, but I disagree about your doing such a thing. You come under my authority, and I have given no such permission to teach, nor would I. You have no formal training and cannot possibly understand the Bible. That is why you have a minister to interpret it for you.”

  Abrianna nearly spit chocolate cake from her mouth. She forced the bite down and quickly took up the water goblet to keep from choking.

  “I didn’t see any reason to seek your approval.” Wade’s expression suggested that he was more than willing to take the pastor’s objections head on. “As I helped Abrianna with the food house, it came to me that perhaps some of these men—men I might add who’ve been rejected as acceptable by many of the churches—would find encouragement in the Word of God. I prayed on the matter and felt God wanted me to offer teaching in our casual setting, where the men might feel comfortable and welcome.”

  The pastor shook his head. “No. That is not acceptable. You are not ordained to teach the Word. You have no background or education.”

  “I beg to differ with you, Pastor Walker.” Wade very slowly put his fork down. “I have studied God’s Word since I was a boy. I learned Greek and Latin in my studies and from time to time have even sought out guidance in Hebrew from a local rabbi. I’ve not only read the Bible but have also studied a variety of commentaries and listened well to the sermons given over the years by Pastor Klingle. It was he who first convinced me that we needed no formal education in order to share God’s love and the gospel message. After all, Jesus said to go into all the world and preach the gospel, and my little part of the world has a need that I am seeking to fill.”

  “That was spoken to the eleven disciples who were with Jesus after His resurrection,” the pastor countered. “That was not given to you.”

  “I believe it was given to all of us who call ourselves children of God,” Wade countered. “Otherwise, how do you explain Paul and others who taught?”

  “They were given direct teaching from the disciples and then those taught and trained others in the truth. It was a specific gift given first to the disciples by Jesus and then by the disciples to additional disciples and so forth. It is the lineage of the priesthood. You are not of that lineage, Mr. Ackerman, and therefore you must cease what you are doing.”

  “You’re wrong!” Abrianna could no longer refrain. “We are all disciples of Jesus and gifted by the Holy Ghost to serve the body and others. How dare you!”

  Lenore burst into tears and fled the room, prompting Abrianna to go after her. As much as she wanted to stay and give Pastor Walker a further piece of her mind, she wanted more to offer comfort to her friend.

  “Lenore, stop.” Abrianna hurried down the hall to catch up with the tearful woman. “I apologize if my outburst caused you pain, but that man had ruffled my last feather.”

  “It’s not you. My dinner is ruined,” she sobbed, falling into Abrianna’s arms. “Utterly ruined. How can that man say such contrary things? I do not pretend to know the Bible as well as he, but it would seem to me that his attitude is not very loving.”

  Abrianna hugged Lenore and then pulled back a bit in order to see her face. “He’s wrong. Jesus asks all of us to be living witnesses of God’s love. We are all ambassadors called to share the truth. Pastor Walker is wrong to believe he alone has that calling.” She glanced back down the hall. “I feel confident your husband and Wade will make certain Pastor Walker hears the truth. I pray also that Kolbein will escort him from the house and tell him never to return, but that’s just my own personal desire.”

  “It’s mine, as well,” Lenore said, pulling a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve. “Oh, Abrianna, I do apologize. You told me how argumentative he could be. I thought perhaps it was just because . . . well . . . because you are outspoken . . . for a woman.”

  Abrianna nodded. “That I am, but I assure you that is not where my misgivings regarding that man were borne. He has done nothing but offer false teaching and unsound doctrine, and I believe it is time the deacons and elders are apprised the situation. I hope Kolbein and Wade will approach them. I’m certain that their opinion would hold more weight than ours.”

  Lenore dried her eyes and dabbed the cloth to her nose. “He seems to be such a vulgar man. I do not understand all his focus on money.”

  “Perhaps he is like that man who stole offerings from the church in Tacoma,” Abrianna said, then immediately regretted it. “I apologize. I am angry and should not make false judgments. If Pastor Walker is doing anything underhanded, it will be realized in time. Until then, my hope is that when his six-month trial period is up, the elders will dismiss him and find someone else to lead our church.”

  Kolbein came down the hall just then, and Lenore made her way to him immediately. “Did you ask him to leave?”

  “Yes. What a pompous man. I am so sorry I encouraged you to host him here. I’ve had better behavior out of my sister’s theatre friends.” He looked to Abrianna. “Wade is waiting to take you home. I told him I thought it best we conclude the evening.”

  “I understand. I would expect no less.” She came to Lenore and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you most dearly, Lenore. Please do not give that man another thought.”

  “I shan’t,” she promised, then paled. “Oh dear, we will have to see him again on Sunday.”

  “No we won’t,” Kolbein de
clared. “I do not intend to sit under his teaching anymore. I had found very little positive in my experience of churches until meeting Pastor Klingle, and now I find myself back to the same opinion.”

  “But no one leaves the church of their youth.” Lenore shook her head.

  “It is not the church of my youth, and that man’s attitude leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

  “Oh, Kolbein, do not say you’ll never attend church again,” Abrianna said, touching his arm. “Not every man who claims himself to be a preacher is like Pastor Walker. Don’t despair and turn away from God.”

  “I have no intention of turning away from God, Abrianna. Just from Pastor Walker.”

  She shook her head in sorrow. “But if we do not fight for our church, who will?”

  Wade held his silence as he walked Abrianna back to her home. The damp evening air further dampened his mood. He wanted to talk over the events of the night, but he had no desire to get Abrianna worked up by speaking about his anger. Thankfully, she seemed to understand.

  “I was sorry that the rain last week kept us from our picnic. I would very much have enjoyed missing out on the monthly reception, but I’m also intrigued by Thane and Militine’s courtship. Do you suppose anything can come of it? Militine has never had a true interest in marriage. Of course you mustn’t say anything, or Aunt Miriam might send her from the school.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  “And then there’s the matter of the June seventh bridal ball. A patriotic theme will require a great deal of red, white, and blue. Aunt Miriam has taken advantage of the situation to teach the young ladies how to dye cloth without staining their hands in the process.” She paused and shook her head. “It has not been completely successful.”

  He halted at the bottom of the steps that led up the long walkway to the house. “I’m sorry for being so out of sorts.”

  She shook her head. “You did nothing wrong. God will bless you for your desire to share the Word, and I, for one, am very proud of you.” She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You are a good and faithful man, Wade, and I’m proud to call you my friend.”

  He smiled against his will. Abrianna could always bring a smile from him, whether due to her zany antics or her long-winded soliloquys. He loved her company. Loved the way she trusted God. Loved her. But where would that love lead him? She seemed completely oblivious to his heart. It hadn’t been easy to accept that he had gone from loving her as a zany little sister to a potential mate for life.

  “Do you ever think about what you will do with the rest of your life?” The question left his lips before he had time to consider how it might sound.

  “Of course. I hope to continue doing whatever it is God has for me to do. I certainly don’t want to run the bridal school, as Aunt Miriam wishes.”

  “What about marriage and a family of your own?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen that God has called me to that as of yet. Paul did say to the unmarried and widows that it was good for them to abide even as he had.”

  He also said it was better to marry than to burn. Wade pushed the thought aside. “But wouldn’t you like to have children of your own, a husband to care for?”

  “What a strange conversation for us to have.” She shook her head. “I try not to long for anything. God knows I longed for many years to have my mother and father returned to me. Instead, He taught me the value of love through my aunts. Their kindness and generous charity has been richer for me than many ever know. I am content to trust that if God has a husband and children for me, He will bring them to me.” She drew a deep breath. “Now I must go inside and explain the evening to my aunts. Goodness, but I do not look forward to Sunday.”

  “I think I might go to the Lutheran church. What with Pastor Swanson being a close friend of Pastor Klingle, I thought I’d ask him some questions and seek his counsel. I don’t intend to just hand over our church to a man like Walker. Even so, I want to approach this in a manner that is biblical.”

  “That seems very wise of you, Wade. I will pray for you to have peace about this.” She kissed his cheek once again. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Abrianna.”

  He watched her make her way up the stairs and across the lawn. Once she was in the house, he let out a heavy sigh. How was he supposed to share his feelings with her, knowing that she wanted to serve God rather than a husband? Could there ever be room in her life for both? After all, he wanted to serve God, as well.

  14

  May had warmed the area with unusually high temperatures and little rain. Unfortunately, both contributed to an increased number of fires. Thane helped gather the long fire hose with his fellow firemen. His arm muscles ached from the process of hand pumping water, and his eyes and throat still burned from the thick smoke. The blaze they’d been called to hours ago was caused by an improperly vented stove. The fire had spread so fast and the water supply was so insufficient that there had been little they could do but watch the house disintegrate before their eyes. Nothing had ever been quite so discouraging. After all, they were there to save, yet they could do nothing.

  All he wanted now was a hot bath and a cold drink. After a long day of work to repair the hull of a small fishing boat, the firefight had left him with barely enough energy to make the walk home.

  Despite his weariness, Thane’s mind churned with burdensome thoughts. For some time they’d nagged and troubled him. Militine had agreed to court him, and while they had enjoyed a couple of rather awkward outings with Miss Poisie, he knew he would have to come clean and tell Militine about his past. That was, if they were to turn this courtship into something more permanent.

  He turned down Front Street, but instead of making his way home, Thane found himself heading for Wade’s. He knew his friend would probably be working late. With the four hours of each day taken to help Abrianna feed the poor, Wade generally needed the evening hours to complete his work. The only exception was his Thursday night Bible study.

  Seeing the light in the shop and hearing rhythmic hammering, Thane knew a sense of peace. Wade always seemed to have the answer to his problems, and now more than ever, he needed those answers. There was so little in his life that made sense.

  He let himself into the shop, and the hammering stopped. “It’s just me, Wade. Got a minute?”

  His friend popped out from the back. “Sure. I was going to work another hour or two, but you give me a good excuse to stop early.” He wiped his hand against the leather apron and then untied it. “Looks like you’ve been to a fire.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t worth the trouble, though. The house was a total loss. We just didn’t have the water we needed to fight the blaze. I know the city council understands the problem, but no one seems inclined to do anything about it.”

  “Give ’em time. Eventually one of their houses will catch fire, and then they’ll move faster.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. It’s a terrible thing to watch a man’s whole life go up in flames. The family got out, but with just the clothes on their backs. There wasn’t anything else left to them. We took up a collection amongst ourselves and gave them enough money to get a room for the night. Hopefully, there will be others who lend them some aid.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t come here to commiserate over that.”

  “Then what?” Wade hung his apron on a peg and motioned to the door of his living quarters. “Coffee?”

  “I’d rather have a good old glass of water, the colder the better. I’m parched.”

  “Hey, you’re in luck. I actually have a little ice. I’ll chip some off for you.”

  “That would be great.” Thane followed Wade to the back of the shop. He drew the handkerchief from around his neck and wiped his face and hands. Seeing the amount of soot left behind on the cloth made him all the more determined to seek out a bath.

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  Thane took a seat while Wade went to get an ice pic
k. “You know I asked Militine if I could court her.”

  “Sure. And she said yes.”

  “She did, but she also knows that I have a bad past. I haven’t told her everything, but I think I need to in order for us to have any chance at a future.”

  “So tell her.” Wade went to work on the ice. “I don’t see a problem. It’s not like you did anything to cause what happened.”

  Thane eased back against the wooden chair. “I know, but maybe if I’d said something about my father to the authorities, my mother would still be alive. When I start thinking about all the mistakes I made, well, then I think I’m crazy to consider courting anyone. What if I turn out to be just like my pa? That’s what most people figured.”

  Wade gathered the ice in a glass and poured in water from a pitcher. He brought the glass to Thane and then returned to put the ice back in the icebox. “I think it’s a dangerous thing to try to second-guess what might have been or what might be.” He went to the stove and tapped the coffeepot. “It’s cold.” He shrugged and went to work to build a fire. “I meant to keep a closer check on this.”

  Thane gulped down the water. The cold liquid eased the burning in this throat and helped to cut the taste of ash. He set the glass on the table only to have Wade pick it up and refill it with water. Smiling, he put it down in front of Thane again.

  “You want something to eat?”

  “No. I just need to talk.”

  Wade nodded and pulled up a chair. “So talk.”

  “Some of the things you’ve said to me in the past—about God—have really been making me think. I guess I want to ask how you can be so sure that God really is who you think He is.”

  Wade shrugged. “Since I was old enough to remember, I heard stories about God and how good He was and how He loved me. I heard folks say it was important to trust Him and to repent from wrongdoing. When I was old enough to read for myself, I could see a lot of me in the lives of some of those people who did wrong. I didn’t like it much.

 

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