Paul wanted to say yes on the spot, but held back. “You know I’ve dreamed of pastoring a church, Dean Whittier, but I’d better do some serious praying first. I don’t want to run ahead of what the Lord wants me to do.” He knew emotions could be deceiving.
“Take all the time you need. But let Samuel Mason know you’re thinking about it. Here’s the number so you can talk things over with him.” He rattled the numbers off quickly, but Paul was ready with paper and pencil. “Talk it over with Pastor Riley and Eunice and anyone else you trust.”
“I will.”
“And let me know what happens.”
“I’ll call you for a lunch date when it’s all settled, sir.”
“Do that. God bless you, Paul. And say hello to that pretty wife of yours.” He hung up.
Euny came into the kitchen with Timmy.
“Dean Whittier says hello.”
“You look excited about something.”
“You could say that.” He took Timmy and settled him into his booster seat while Eunice took the casserole out of the oven. “He got a call from the elder of a small church in California. They need a pastor.”
She straightened, eyes bright. “And you’re being called!”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s not run ahead of the Lord, Euny. We need to pray about it.”
“We pray every morning and evening that the Lord will lead us where He wants us to go, Paul.”
“I know. I don’t think Dean Whittier’s call is a coincidence. Nothing happens by coincidence. I’d love to jump in and say yes, Euny. You know how much I’ve dreamed of having my own church. But I’min the middle of teaching two classes. I can’t just quit and walk away.”
“If this is the Lord’s will, it will be very clear.”
“Dean Whittier gave me the name of the elder who called from Centerville Christian. Samuel Mason.”
“Maybe you should call him. The term is ending in less than a month.”
“A month might be too long. Their pastor had a heart attack. They need someone as soon as possible.”
“Do they have an interim pastor?”
“I don’t know. Their pastor has served their congregation for forty years, Euny.” That was as long as his father had pastored his Southern California church. “It would be hard to step into that pastor’s shoes.”
“It would be hard.”
“Dean Whittier suggested I call Mr. Mason. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I can go over my background and experience, and explain my responsibilities here. If Mr. Mason says they can’t wait, that will be the answer from the Lord. No go.”
“When do you think you’ll make the call?”
“Not for a few days. I want to fast and pray about it first.”
Samuel was dozing in his chair when the telephone rang. Abby set aside her crossword puzzle and answered it. Samuel still dozed. The drone of television always served to put him to sleep. He would start out on ESPN, fall asleep, and wake up to Turner Classic Movies, the remote firmly in Abby’s possession.
“Just a minute, please. Samuel. Pssst. Samuel!”
Samuel raised his head.
“Paul Hudson is calling for you,” Abby said.
“Who’s Paul Hudson?”
“A pastor from Mountain High Church in Illinois. He’s calling in regard to your conversation with Dean Whittier.”
Samuel came fully awake. “I’ll take it in the kitchen.” He slammed his recliner down and pushed himself up, giving a cursory glance at the television. He gave her a mock scowl. “Pulled another fast one, did you? Since the Dodgers game would be over by now, you can finish watching The Sound of Music with my blessing.”
She gave him a smirk as she lifted the telephone. “My husband will be with you in just a moment, Pastor Hudson.”
Samuel picked up the telephone in the kitchen. “I’ve got it, Abigail.” His wife hung up. “This is Samuel Mason speaking.”
“My name is Paul Hudson, sir. Dean Whittier called me last week and said you’re looking for a pastor. He thought I should give you a call.”
Samuel rubbed his chin. How did one go about this? “What do you think we should know about you?”
“What are you looking for?”
“Someone like Jesus.”
“Well . . . I can tell you straight up that I’m a long way from that, sir.”
Paul Hudson sounded young. Samuel took a pad and pen. “Why don’t we start with your qualifications?”
“I graduated from Midwest Christian College.” He hesitated. “It might be best if you spoke with Dean Whittier about my work there. Since graduating, I’ve been on staff at Mountain High Church.”
“Youth?”
“New Christians. All ages.”
Sounds good. “How long have you been there?”
“Five years. I just completed my master’s in family counseling.”
A jack-of-all-trades. “Are you married?”
“Yes, sir.” Samuel could hear the smile in Hudson’s voice. “My wife’s name is Eunice. I met her in college and married her two weeks after I graduated. She was a music major. She plays piano and she sings. I don’t mean to brag, but Eunice is very gifted.”
Two ministers for the price of one. “Any children?”
“Yes, sir. We have a very active three-year-old son named Timothy.”
“Children are a blessing from the Lord.” Samuel was about to launch into stories about his daughter and son, but pulled himself up short as the pain of Donny’s loss struck him again. He cleared his throat. “Tell me about your relationship with the Lord.”
He leaned back against the kitchen counter as Paul dove enthusiastically into his personal testimony. Born into a Christian family. Father, a pastor of a church in Southern California. Hudson? The name was ringing bells in Samuel’s head, but he wasn’t certain if they were fire alarms or chimes.
Paul went on talking. He accepted Christ at the age of ten, active in youth groups, counselor at church camps, worked summers for Habitat for Humanity. Between college classes, he volunteered at a senior-citizens center near the college. He worked with disadvantaged youth and tutored students in reading at an inner-city high school.
Paul Hudson sounded like a gift from heaven.
There was a long pause.
“Mr. Mason?”
“I’m still here.” Just flabbergasted at the energy of the young.
“Should I e-mail my resume?” Paul sounded embarrassed.
Samuel was drawn to his youthful zeal. “We haven’t got a computer.”
“Fax machine?”
“Nope.” Samuel rubbed his chin again. “Tell you what. Send your resume to me FedEx.” Since there wasn’t anyone on staff at the church, Samuel gave Paul his home address. “What’s your situation? I’m assuming you have responsibilities at Mountain High Church.”
“I work in a number of areas, but my primary responsibility right now is teaching two foundational classes.”
“How long is the course?”
“Both classes will finish in three weeks. We have a covenant ceremony the week after for those who have made a decision for Christ.”
“So you wouldn’t be available for four to five weeks.”
“That’s right, sir. And if I was called, I’d need time to pack and move and settle my family.”
“That would be no problem. But we don’t want to move too fast. I’ll notify the other elders. We all need to pray about this. Considering all your qualifications, this may not be the best place for you. We’re a small church, Paul. Fewer than sixty people.”
“It could grow.”
It would have to grow or they couldn’t afford to pay a new pastor. “Send your resume. I’ll talk with Dean Whittier again.” Samuel wanted to make sure Paul Hudson was the young man the dean meant. “I’ll get back to you in a week or so. How does that sound to you?”
“Wise, sir.”
“I’d hire you right now, Paul, but we’d better slow down and see if this is where t
he Lord wants you.”
“I can tend to run on overdrive, Mr. Mason. I’ve been praying that the Lord would call me to pastor a church.”
Samuel liked the sound of his voice. “Nothing you’ve said to me will work against you.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries and Samuel hung up. He went back into the living room. “Do, a deer, a female deer,” Julie Andrews sang from the screen.
“You know this movie by heart, Abby,” Samuel said. “How many times have you seen it?”
“About as many times as you’ve fallen asleep to Monday Night Football.
” She picked up the remote and turned the television volume down, then put it back on her side table. He sat in his recliner, tipped it back, and waited. He knew it wouldn’t be long.
“So . . . ?”
“Give me the remote and I’ll tell you.”
“You know I’ll get it back again when you fall asleep.” She gave up the remote.
“He’s twenty-eight, happily married, and has a three-year-old son.”
“That’s all you learned about him in thirty minutes?”
“Master’s degree. Zealous.”
“That’s wonderful.” She waited while he considered. “ Isn’t it?”
“Depends.” Fire from on high could raise a church from the ashes. Misplaced zeal could burn it down.
“You could mentor him.”
He looked at her over the rim of his glasses.
“Well, who else would you suggest? Otis? Hollis?”
Samuel pushed his recliner back. “We might see if we can find someone older, more experienced.”
“You aren’t that fainthearted, Samuel.”
“I’m not exactly a mover and shaker anymore, my dear.”
“You know what they say: ‘Youth and skill are no match for old age and treachery.’ ”
“A bowl of Rocky Road would taste good right about now.”
She sighed and got up. Samuel caught her hand as she came near his chair. “Give me a kiss, old woman.”
“You don’t deserve a kiss.”
He smiled up at her. “But you’ll give me one anyway.”
She leaned down and planted a kiss on his mouth. “You’re an old codger.” Her eyes twinkled.
“You can have the remote when you get back.”
He began praying over Paul Hudson the moment Abby left the room. He prayed while he ate the ice cream. He prayed while his wife watched The Sound of Music. When they went to bed, he prayed with her, then lay awake praying long after she went to sleep. He prayed the next day while mowing the lawn and oiling the garage-door hinges and springs. He was still praying while he added motor oil to his DeSoto, rubbed a few bugs off the car’s grille, and went out to trim the hedge.
Abby came out to the garage with a FedEx envelope. Paul Hudson’s resume. No moss would grow on this kid. Samuel opened the packet, read the resume, took it inside, and put it on the table. “See what you think.” He headed for the door.
“What about lunch?”
He took a banana from the bowl on the nook table and went back outside to talk some more with the Lord. He didn’t come in until she called that lunch was ready. The resume was on the table. “Well?”
Abby let out a soft whistle.
“Precisely.”
He called Dean Whittier that afternoon. “He had to work to prove himself when he came here.”
Samuel frowned. “Why would he have to do that?”
“His father is David Hudson. It would be hard for any man to live up to that kind of reputation.”
Before Samuel had an opportunity to ask who David Hudson was, the dean charged on with the various projects Paul had started and finished while in college. The dean’s secretary spoke in the background. “I’m sorry, Samuel, but I have another call. Let me just say this: Paul Hudson has the potential of becoming a great pastor, maybe even greater than his father. You’d better grab him while you can.”
Samuel went looking for his wife. “Ever heard of David Hudson?”
“He’s pastor of one of those megachurches down south. His sermons are televised. Pat Sawyer loves him.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh my goodness! You don’t mean to tell me Paul Hudson is related to him, do you?”
“You could say that. He’s David Hudson’s son.”
“Oh, this is more than we ever dreamed . . . ”
“Don’t start doing cartwheels yet, Abby.” He headed for the door.
“Where are you going now, Samuel?”
“Out for a walk.” He needed time alone to think and pray before he called the other two elders.
CHAPTER 2
SAMUEL WENT to the hospital the next day and spoke to Hank and Susanna Porter about Paul Hudson. Hank said he was relieved that the church was moving ahead and looking for someone to replace him. Their son would be in Centerville on Saturday. “He’s not taking no for an answer this time. He’s moving us to Oregon.”
When Hank’s mouth trembled, Susanna put her hand over his and squeezed tenderly. “We’ve been talking about this for the last few years, dear. It’s time.”
Hank nodded. “I’ll leave my library of books with the church.”
Susanna looked at Samuel. “Most of the furniture will stay. We can’t use much. We’ll be moving into Robert’s granny unit. It’s one room with a kitchenette and a bathroom. Just our bedroom set, the nook table and chairs.” Susanna dabbed tears from her eyes. “How soon do we have to be out of the parsonage?”
Samuel swallowed hard. “You stay as long as you need, Susanna.”
Hank looked at Susanna. “I’m sorry to leave you alone to do it, but the sooner you can have things ready, my dear, the better.” He looked Samuel in the eye. “If you call this young man to Centerville, he and his wife are going to need a place to live.”
A nurse came to the doorway. “It’s time for my patient to rest.” Samuel rose reluctantly, put his hand on Hank’s shoulder, stepped away, and bent to kiss Susanna’s cheek. He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.
Samuel left the hospital, sat in his old DeSoto in the parking lot, and wept. Then he drove home and telephoned Otis Harrison and Hollis Sawyer.
They met at the church on Wednesday night, and he presented them with copies of Paul Hudson’s resume. They were impressed. After a long prayer, they talked for two hours about the good old days of the church and what this young man might do. Samuel suggested they pray more before they decided. Otis said they would, and then he and Hollis discussed football, aches and pains, and the idiosyncrasies of their wives. Samuel suggested they adjourn and meet again in a few days.
By the following week, they were convinced that Paul Hudson was the answer to their prayers and voted unanimously to call him and offer him the pulpit—providing the congregation agreed.
The members of the church were notified by telephone of an important congregational meeting following the worship service Sunday morning. Thirty-seven people sat through Otis Harrison’s slides of the Holy Land. Twenty-one were still awake when he finished.
Abby served coffee in the fellowship hall. Samuel read Paul Hudson’s resume. Someone said it was a pity there were no cookies to go with the coffee. It was suggested the congregation hear Paul Hudson preach before they made a decision. Otis announced the church didn’t have the money to send a round-trip airline ticket for an audition, and it was going to take a miracle to scrape together enough money to move the Hudsons, if they were lucky enough to get them. Which led to a discussion of Hank and Susanna and the parsonage and how they felt about someone being called to take Hank’s place.
Someone asked why Hank wasn’t preaching and Susanna wasn’t in church. The news of Hank’s heart attack was repeated—louder. Someone said Susanna had been at Hank’s bedside from dawn to dark every day since the Tuesday Hank had collapsed in the corridor of the hospital.
A member noticed a water stain on the ceiling and said the roof must need fixing, which led to another discussion about the repairs needed
in the sanctuary, fellowship hall, and parsonage, which in turn led to a discussion of the lawn, the hedge, and the beetle or blight killing the tree on the corner. That led someone to the Medfly, past governors, the sharpshooter attacking California grapevines, droughts, blackouts, floods, and the downturn in the market, which led to rambling conversations about the Great Depression and World War II.
It was two hours past Otis’s lunchtime, and his patience was thinner than flatbread. He called, loudly, for a vote. Hollis seconded. Someone asked what they were voting about. “All those in favor!” Otis shouted, face red. Two people were startled awake. Twenty-eight voted yes. Ten voted no. One was told she couldn’t vote twice, so she crossed her arms and refused to vote at all.
Otis assigned Samuel Mason to call Paul Hudson and offer him the pulpit of Centerville Christian Church. “Since you were the one to call him in the first place.”
Paul Hudson spoke with the senior pastor of Mountain High.
“Actually, Paul, I’m surprised you’ve been here as long as you have,” Pastor Riley said and encouraged him to step out in faith and accept the call to California.
After speaking with Eunice, Paul called Samuel Mason with the good news. During his remaining few weeks at Mountain High, Paul finished the foundational classes, rejoiced in welcoming ten new Christians to the fold, and wrote an inspiring piece for the church newsletter about accepting the call of God to go out into the world with the gospel. He had the family car serviced, washed, waxed, and the tires rotated.
A bon voyage party was thrown for the Hudson family. The love offering was generous.
“There’s more than enough for our moving expenses.” Paul and Eunice both saw the gift as a reaffirmation from the Lord that Paul had made the right decision. They would even have extra to put in savings for whatever they might need when they arrived in Centerville.
On moving day, Paul rose before Eunice and packed the last few things before he awakened her. While she made coffee and put doughnuts on a tray, a crew of friends loaded the U-Haul truck.
By eight, the rental house was empty, thanks expressed, prayers offered, and good-byes said. Paul climbed into the driver’s seat of the U-Haul and started off for California, Eunice following in their red Toyota, Timmy strapped into his safety harness in the backseat.