No Distance Too Far

by Lauraine Snelling

  When she returned, the mail was in the slots, and Mrs. Valders took the chair without grumbling. Astrid wrapped the ankle, making sure it wasn’t too tight, and ripped the end of the strip in half the long way so she could tie the wrap on top of the foot.

  “There now, let’s put your shoe back on and see if this doesn’t make it feel better.”

  “It does feel better,” Hildegunn said when she put her weight back on the foot. “Thank you, Dr. Bjorklund.”

  Astrid nodded. “Remember, stay off it as much as you can.” She picked up the mail from the Bjorklund boxes and headed back to the surgery. Setting the piles on the table, she saw two letters addressed to her, one from Dean Highsmith and the other from Red Hawk. Out on the porch swing, she opened the school one first, setting the swing in motion with her foot as she read.

  Dear Dr. Bjorklund,

  I am writing this with a heavy heart and after much prayer and discussion. We of the mission board have come to the conclusion that you are not ready to commit one hundred percent to serving as a doctor in Africa. I know you have struggled with the calling, wondering if this is indeed where God was telling you to go. Sometimes the knowing is rock solid and other times not, but I have always recognized a peace that comes with walking in His will. I saw that peace come to you at first, but now it seems He is leading you in another way. Sometimes He uses circumstances to lead us, and that is what we see happening in your situation.

  Therefore, it is with regret and yet profound peace on our part that we release you from your commitment to the school and the missionary program. I know God has a plan for you, and He will reveal it, or perhaps He already has. Please keep in touch and let us know how we can be praying for you. At the same time, we ask that you pray for us and our program.

  Sincerely yours,

  Dean Highsmith

  Astrid read the letter again, alternately chuckling and wiping her eyes. Wait until she told the others. Pastor Solberg would shake his head and say one of his favorite sayings, “God may be slow in answer-ing, but He is never late.”

  She tucked that paper back into the envelope and pulled out the other.

  Dear Dr. Bjorklund,

  I don’t know if you are in Blessing or on your way to Africa, but I am writing this in the hope that you are indeed in North Dakota. I also hope you are not going to Africa, but that is my selfish prayer. Remember our discussion when I said that perhaps my people could be your Africa?

  Right now the people of Rosebud Reservation are dying from the measles. If I go home at this time, I will lose my place in the rotation, and as Dr. Morganstein fears, I might never make it back here. The needs are so great on the reservation. I know your people in Blessing sent food and supplies earlier this spring, but now a doctor is needed, one who can teach my people how to fight off this dread epidemic. The lack of food and cleanliness is part of the problem, as is the disease itself.

  Please can you go? And I beg your people to be generous again to those who are so proud and so needy. I will finish here at the end of the summer and will return as soon as possible. But they need help now.

  Your friend,

  Dr. Red Hawk

  Astrid tipped her head back and stared at the tongue-and-groove ceiling. All these things at once. What is going on? Lord God, I am overwhelmed. My Africa? Am I to go to South Dakota?

  31

  So why did I attend missionary school?”

  Pastor Solberg shredded a leaf that had blown onto the porch.

  Astrid waited. She had taken the two letters directly to him, before she even spoke with Mor or Elizabeth. Anyone watching her run from the surgery to the Solbergs’ might have thought her slightly, or even massively, deranged. He had been sitting on his porch working on his sermon for Sunday and immediately put that away to give her his full attention.

  “I don’t know.”

  She dropped her hands into her lap and her chin to her chest. “This just isn’t making any sense.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it does. Only you can’t see all the pieces yet. God has a plan for you.”

  “I know that. I know His thoughts are for good and not for evil. I believe that. But three things happening at once? I know three is a godly number.”

  “You have listened well through the years. Watching you grow up has been one of my great pleasures.”

  She looked up at him and had to swallow a lump at the love in his smile and reflected in his eyes. “Now what?”

  “What does it look like to you?”

  “I am obviously not going back to missionary school.”

  “I think it very interesting that you sent the letter to Dean High-smith before you heard from him.”

  “How so?”

  “You made the decision.”

  “It’s not like I wasn’t forced into it.”

  “Really? You could have said, ‘No, I am headed for Africa. We can build the hospital when I get back.’ ”

  Astrid thought a long moment. “Never entered my mind.”

  “You asked God to make this clear to you. Did He?”

  “Yes. With a second confirmation.”

  He picked up his Bible and handed it to her. “Read the story where Abraham is to sacrifice his son.”

  Astrid flipped through Genesis to chapter twenty-two and read it through.

  “What was Abraham told to do?”

  “To take his son and a load of wood and the knife to the place God would show him.”

  “For what purpose?” Pastor Solberg leaned toward her, his gaze intent.

  “To sacrifice.” Astrid swallowed. “And Abraham did that. He followed all the instructions, even to laying his son on the altar.” She paused. “His only son. His long-awaited son.”

  “His most precious thing.” He kept his look steady on Astrid, as if willing her to go further.

  “But then God provided the sacrifice with the ram. So he didn’t have to kill his son.”

  “What is one of your most precious possessions?”

  She thought. “My family and my life here in Blessing.”

  “And?” He waited. Astrid shook her head, fighting to think through where he was leading her.

  “What is Abraham’s greatest attribute? What did he do all his life?”

  She frowned, thinking. “Whatever God said?”

  “Yes, that is true, but even more so he trusted God.” He let that settle in before he continued. “Do you think that everything made sense to Abraham?”

  “No, it couldn’t have. Not with being told to sacrifice Isaac.”

  “Or the journeys or the promises or the instructions. But still, Abraham trusted God. Perhaps He has had you on a journey of trust. Could that fit?”

  “And I didn’t have to carry through with the sacrifice. I had to be obedient and trust Him?” Astrid ran that sentence through her mind again. Trust. She looked at Pastor Solberg through a shimmer of tears. “But what is He providing as a sacrifice in that place then?”

  “Good question. I don’t know, but eventually, looking back, we will see clearly. Or perhaps there is none visible. Jesus paid for all our sacrifices already.”

  Astrid nodded slowly. “Now what about Red Hawk’s letter?”

  “All we can do is ask our people if they are willing to give again. We will lay it before them on Sunday.”

  “Aren’t the women meeting for quilting tomorrow? I thought that was what Mor said.”

  “You want to go speak to them?”

  She shook her head. “About as much as I want to go to Africa. I’ve seen some of those discussions.”

  “But you will.” He looked steadily at her, encouraging her to do so.

  “You think this is part of God’s plan for me?”

  “I think so, and I also believe this will be the first outreach clinic from the Blessing Hospital. This is what you and Elizabeth dreamed of doing, and God is giving you the opportunity.”

  “Then I hope He gives the people of Blessing the same dream and the same heart.”


  “We will make a decision on Sunday, but I think you better begin to collect supplies.” He closed his eyes. “Lord God, we praise and thank you for your plan for Astrid and also for the rest of us. And your Word tells us that to whom much is given, much will be required. Your plan for us to go to other nations is part of this family, this church, this community. Lord, you say that with you all things are possible, and we are trusting you to make that happen. Amen.”

  Astrid wiped her tears, and after blowing her nose, she stood and gathered her letters. “Thank you.” She walked home, lifting her face to the westering sun. Stopping first at Elizabeth’s, she found her on the back porch, dozing on the cushioned swing.

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” Elizabeth said with a smile, stretching her arms over her head. “Lying here listening to the children playing is a new experience for me. I thought you went for the mail.”

  “I did.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “I took my two letters to Pastor Solberg so he could help me understand what is happening. Here.” She handed the two envelopes to Elizabeth. “Read them and tell me what you think. Read the one from Georgia first.”

  Sitting on the quiet porch, Astrid could hear the pounding thunder of the printing press at work. Usually Thorliff ran it at night. Had he gotten Samuel to help him? What would Thorliff think of her news? Maybe she should stroll by there and take them a plate of cookies and a pitcher of something cold to drink. While the day wasn’t overly hot, it was June, and the printing press created a lot of heat.

  Elizabeth laid the first letter on her chest. “Talk now or wait until I read the next?”

  “Now is fine.” Astrid pulled one of the rocking chairs over to face her. “Well?”

  “You did mail your letter to the dean, correct?”

  “I did. I handed the mail sack to the railroad employee.”

  “So you think God is answering your prayers for wisdom?”

  “Seems that way to me.” She thought to tell Elizabeth all that she and Pastor Solberg had discussed but then changed her mind. “Made me feel that He has been listening.”

  “Good.” Elizabeth opened the other letter. “From Red Hawk?” She read swiftly. “Well, I’ll be . . .” She couldn’t get words out. “Our first distance clinic.”

  “Oh, I hoped you would see it that way too. But isn’t the timing amazing? You know the ‘God is never late’ comment that Mor and Pastor Solberg say?” Elizabeth nodded. “I guess I better believe it. No doubting. I don’t know all the answers yet, but I am grateful.”

  “Me too. The thought of you clear in Africa always made my stomach tie up in knots.” She folded the paper as she talked. “When do you think you’ll be leaving?”

  “As soon as possible. People are dying, and we might be able to save some of them. Red Hawk is not one to exaggerate. Do you think Mor can help here a little longer?”

  “For this, yes. She has been praying for that tribe ever since we first sent the supplies. Let me think on what we have here that could be helpful, along with food, of course. At least we aren’t fighting a cold winter on top of it.”

  “I am going to talk to the quilters tomorrow, and Pastor Solberg will bring it to the congregation on Sunday.”

  “Have you had the measles?”

  “Yes. We all took turns having them in the first or second grade.”

  “I wish I could go.”

  “I’m praying you get strong enough to help Mor here if she needs you.”

  “I will be. Every day is better. After all, I can even dress myself now and walk down the stairs without assistance. If I had to, I could sleep downstairs. I can always give advice from a chair.”

  “And I won’t be gone long enough to cause Chicago any concerns. That contingency thing threw me for a loop for a bit.”

  “They know the hospital is one of our dreams. We just didn’t expect to get to do it so soon. Think when we have interns here what all we will be able to do.” Elizabeth rested her head against a cushion. “Lying around has given me plenty of time to think ahead.”

  “When you weren’t sleeping?”

  “I haven’t been sleeping all the time. Just resting my eyes.”

  “Right. I’m going to see Mor. Do you want me to spend the night here?”

  “No, you go home. Thorliff should be finishing up the paper soon, so he’ll be here. Inga and I will read together for a while, and maybe I’ll get to know my daughter again. I imagine she has a million questions.”

  Astrid nodded. “I was going to offer to take her home with me, but this will be better.” She stood and took the letters Elizabeth had put back in their proper envelopes.

  AFTER ASTRID GOT home, she and her parents talked long into the night about what Hjelmer had said regarding his trip to the reservation with supplies in late winter. He had spent time with the Indian agent and the elders of the tribe. The supplies he brought had been appreciated but were nothing more than a bandage on a festering lesion.

  “Right now we can bring medical help that will ease some suffering, but what else can be done? Dr. Red Hawk will be back in September, but the effects of starving will still be there.”

  “We have to get them planting crops, gardens at least, and raising cattle and horses. That area is okay for crop land, but they have no machinery and no farming knowledge. They were hunters and took what they needed from the land, much like Metiz did. From some things she said, her family was struggling to adapt to our non-traveling way of life.” Ingeborg looked up from her knitting. “She taught us so much. I always feel that we need to do more for her people too.”

  “We will. But Red Hawk’s people are the ones we help now.”

  THE NEXT MORNING Astrid read the letter to the women gathered for the last time in the summer to make quilts. When she finished, she looked to them for answers, only to find several shaking their heads.

  “We already cleaned out our closets and household things, including the cellars. How can we find more when our own gardens aren’t producing yet and our cellars are low?”

  “I can send a crate of chickens,” Mrs. Geddick said. “If they keep the hens for the eggs instead of eating them, that can help for a long time.”

  “Thank you.” Astrid looked around the group.

  Penny heaved a sigh. “I’ve had Mr. Sam repairing old gardening tools. I’ll send them and a barrel of flour. I have a bag of beans too.”

  “Anyone have any leftover seed? It’s not too late to start a garden.”

  Several nodded and said they’d bring things to church in the morning.

  “Who is going with you?” Mrs. Valders asked. “Mr. Valders cannot take weeks away from work again like he did before. Besides, he wasn’t too convinced that the Indian agency would do as they promised. The Indians said that was not unusual, to promise and not deliver. There are some on the reservation who are threatening to run again, so they can hunt like they used to.”

  Another voice from the back said, “They don’t like the white man’s ways, so why should the white men, meaning all of us, give them ongoing help?”

  “What if it were your son or grandson starving?” Kaaren asked softly.

  “I would do anything I had to, to feed my family,” one of the newer women said.

  “You know, I am thinking something,” Mary Martha Solberg said, nodding slowly. “Since the men went last time, I’m sure they were never able to talk with the women. When you go, Astrid, you make sure you talk with the women. I’ve seen that if you want change, that’s usually the best place to start. They were the ones gathering from the land. Maybe they will see the wisdom of planting a garden, raising chickens and pigs, and tending the cattle and the sheep. I read about a tribe down south, the Navajo, that are herders and planters. Their braves don’t see that as beneath them.”

  Astrid nodded. “They are the ones caring for their families. You are right. Mor and I were talking about Metiz last night. If only we had her here to be our go-b
etween.”

  But the next morning the tone was different after Pastor Solberg read the letter and asked for help.

  “We did our share,” one of the men said. “If we keep providing, they don’t have to work.”

  “How can they work when they are dying of the measles?” Sol-berg asked.

  “How come the government don’t go in and help them? They put them on reservations.”

  Astrid glanced up to see Joshua nodding. His crossed arms and narrowed eyes didn’t look too promising. What did he have against the Indians? Hadn’t he said something in one of his letters about the last trip? She tried to remember, but all she could think was that he’d been irate about the support.

  Haakan stood up. “I believe God told us to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and give a cup of water to those in need. We have another chance to do that, and I think we should do the best we can.”

  “Easy for you,” someone grumbled. “You got your dairy herd built back up and both pigs and steers for meat. Some of the rest of us aren’t there.”

  Astrid watched her father nod. “You are right. God has indeed blessed us with much, and we believe we must give back. So we will. I don’t think anyone is being coerced here. You give what you feel you can, and if you choose not to, no one is going to hold that against you.”

  She saw Mr. Jeffers on the far aisle lean forward, as if intent on someone’s answer. His hands were clasped almost in prayer.

  “I thought Astrid came back here to take care of the surgery while Dr. Bjorklund is recovering.”

  Pastor Solberg chose to answer that after a glance in Astrid’s direction. “You needn’t worry. Between Dr. Bjorklund and Mrs. Bjorklund, we will be cared for in case of an emergency.”

  I’m glad I wasn’t here last time, Astrid thought, at the same time making sure her face didn’t mirror her thoughts. More grumbles came from the rear of the church. She glanced over to see her mother holding Emmy, her cheek resting on the black hair braided in two braids, like her own daughter’s had been. Maybe we should bring some of the Indian children up here to live with our families and attend school too. She determined that would be one more thing to look into. Was there a school there? How did Red Hawk get his education?