Read The Long Road Home Page 12


  The train rumbled into the station not much later. Sam shook hands with Paul and hugged Abby. They climbed aboard and took seats. Ross and Sam faced one another outside the train.

  “You look like I’m never coming back, Dad,” Ross joked lightly.

  “Oh, I think you’ll be back. I just don’t know who you’ll be when you get here.” Ross looked at him in confusion. “Don’t get me wrong, Ross. The changes are good ones. They’re just surprising.”

  “I sometimes can’t believe it myself,” Ross said, now understanding his dad’s meaning. “I mean, I’m learning things about myself I never knew and well, like you said, changing.”

  “Well, son, you’re young and it was bound to happen.”

  “What’s happened to me, Dad, has nothing to do with my age,” Ross told his father in the most serious voice Sam had ever heard from him. “Anyone can know Christ, Dad. And He is the One who makes the changes.” Suddenly Ross’ arms were tight around his father. He gave him a long, hard hug. Sam heard the words “I love you” whispered in his ear just before Ross broke away and boarded the train.

  They waved to Sam from the windows as the train pulled out, heading north. Ross sat back in his seat facing Abby. Paul was at his side by the window.

  “Ross, did you get a chance to talk with your mom?” Abby asked in kindness.

  “Yes, Abby, thanks. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Abby accepted this without question and Ross appreciated it. Having just said good-bye to his father, he felt a little teary and was afraid that talking of his mother would have him crying on the train.

  Ross had never seen his father so vulnerable. The relationship between them was a little different now, as it was bound to be. Ross felt a pang of hurt at even the slightest estrangement from his parents, whom he loved dearly. He couldn’t be sorry for seeing his need for a Savior and believing in Jesus Christ. Remembering his conversation with his mother, he prayed right then that someday he would have the words to cause her to think about eternity.

  “Mom, I’m leaving tomorrow, and I don’t want to go with you upset.”

  “But I’m not upset with you, Ross,” Lenore had genuinely assured him.

  “Well, maybe not, but ever since I told you and Dad about my salvation, well, you’ve been preoccupied.”

  “I guess it does make me feel a little strange to have you talk about God the way you do and pray at meals and such.”

  “Does it feel funny when you talk to Abby or Paul?”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t. But Paul is a minister and Abby was a minister’s wife. I guess I somehow expect it of them. With you I just feel as though there is something you and I can’t share, and we’ve always been so close.”

  Ross had been unsure of what to say. In her unsaved state there was indeed something they could not share. But he still loved her unreservedly.

  She went on while he was still thinking of an answer. “I feel like you don’t need us anymore.”

  “Oh, Mom! Never think that. I need you and love you so much. I’ll miss you more than I can say on this trip, and I hope we can talk more when I get back.”

  Ross could still envision his mother’s indecisive face, but she had hugged him tightly and told him she loved him too. Now Ross’ father, probably back home by now, was in Ross’ mind as he had left him—standing by the train waving with a mixture of confused joy on his face. “It’s no wonder he looked confused,” Ross thought with regret, “I’ve probably never told him that I love him.”

  As the train rocked down the tracks, Ross prayed for his parents. “Please, Lord, lead them to You. Use me to show them their need. Please, God, save my parents.”

  35

  The trip was not too long, but the nearer the three travelers came to Bayfield, the more restless Paul became. The men had dozed for a time, but now the inactivity of hours on the train was making Paul squirm. Abby strongly suspected he was a bit unsure of his reception, and it was showing in the way he constantly shifted and with his preoccupied stare out the window.

  Abby searched her mind for some subject with which to distract him. They had exhausted just about every one, and the basket of food Anna had sent along was nearly depleted.

  “Paul, you’ve never shared how you came to be a pastor,” Abby said as the thought suddenly came to her. “Had you wanted to preach from boyhood?”

  “I wish I had known from boyhood,” Paul said with a small smile. Abby looked at him so expectantly, and he could see that Ross was all ears too, so Paul began his story.

  “My mother died when I was nine, and even though I knew she was going to heaven, I was devastated. The only thing that helped me hang on was knowing I would see her again. I think it was then that I started wondering about people who didn’t know whether they would see their loved ones again. But I was pretty young and not able to really handle such thoughts. I did my best not to dwell on them.

  “Well, anyway, my older sister Julia took over most of the responsibilities of the house then. We were all a little busier, but she did most of the work even though she was only 12. She still had to go to school, but she was expected to cook and clean plus make trips to town for supplies. Well, I think she was around 15 when she came home from town one day with a sparkle in her eyes. She had seen our neighbor John MacDonald in the general store. Now, I don’t think that Julia seeing Mac—that’s what we call him—was anything new. But Mac hadn’t really seen Julia for a few years, and suddenly she was this tall, beautiful young woman.

  “That night after supper Mac came to the ranch. It was more than a little obvious he was interested in Julia. Julia returned his attention; in fact, she didn’t take her eyes off him all evening.

  “Unfortunately, Mac wasn’t a believer. He was honest, hardworking and a good neighbor, but he didn’t know Christ. My father was adamant about Julia not seeing him again.

  “Julia was crushed, but I don’t think she even considered disobeying. Oh, she was always full of mischief—still is, but she wasn’t willful to our father. Well, the next night Mac came again. My father kept all of us boys off the porch. I don’t know what she said, but Mac didn’t stay very long, and when Julia came in she went right to her room for the night.

  “I’ll never forget the change in her after that. I guess because I lost my mother when I was so young, Julia just naturally filled her place in my life. At the time I never stopped to think that she had needs of her own. She just always took care of us, made sure I washed behind my ears, had clean clothes, and well, was just a mother to me. But all of that changed the day after Mac left.

  “Julia was preoccupied, and I felt like I’d lost my mother all over again. She didn’t talk to me very much or check up on me like she had. I knew it had something to do with Mac,but no one would tell me anything and I felt helpless and rejected.

  “I wasn’t the only one to see a difference in her. My father lit into her one night about her moping around the house and threatened to work her fingers to the bone if she didn’t work on her attitude and get back in the family. Even as much as I wanted the ‘old’ Julia back, I thought he’d been pretty rough on her.

  “Things did get better then—better for everyone but Julia. She bent over backward to keep things in order for all of us and totally neglected herself. She never sat down to a meal with us unless my father insisted, and she began losing weight. She would play games with me anytime I wanted, but I knew it was keeping her from her work and I stopped asking.

  “I can’t remember how much time went by, but I came in the kitchen one day to find her on the floor. I thought she was dead. By the time I found my dad in the barn, I was hysterical. She was still unconscious when my dad and brothers ran to the house. Luke and Silas went for our grandfather who was the doctor in town.

  “I didn’t want to leave Julia. I was sure she was going to die, and I knew if I left her side it would happen while I was gone.” Paul fell silent for a moment as he thought of those days by Julia’s bed. The helple
ss feeling he had experienced when Corrine was bedridden came rushing back to Paul so fast it brought a pain to his chest.

  Abby and Ross studied him. Abby would have allowed Paul the silence. Being more informed than Ross, she knew where his thoughts were centered. But Ross was totally absorbed in the story.

  “Was Julia alright?”

  The question brought Paul back to the present, and he was thankful for the distraction. “Yes, Ross, she was alright, but it took about three days. My grandmother came and ran the household, and my grandfather only left her side to see to emergency situations. I kept a constant vigil near her; in fact, I cried uncontrollably if they tried to remove me.

  “Well, Julia’s fever broke and still I stayed by her side. As she regained her strength, she began to talk with me. I was amazed to learn she wasn’t upset with our father. Her breakdown was over what Mac thought of her. As I look back now, I’m sorry for the pain Julia had to go through. But I’m not sorry for the result.

  “A family discussion was held when Julia was finally out of bed, and my father apologized to Julia for his insensitivity. Silas’ chores in the barn were cut down, and he began to help in the house. The whole thing brought us closer together when, as a family, we began to pray for John MacDonald. Months went by. Julia had some bleak days, but one miraculous Sunday morning Mac walked into church. I said hello to him after the service, but I don’t think he let anyone else get near him.

  “Things went on like that for a while. The only change was Julia making us late because she insisted we drive at a snail’s pace so as not to mess her hair. And then our father surprised all of us by asking Mac to Sunday dinner. It was a disaster. Julia burned everything she put on the table—including herself, because she was watching Mac and not where she was pouring the burned gravy.”

  “Oh, Paul,” Abby laughed. “I can’t believe it was that bad.”

  “I swear to you, Abby. Everything that could go wrong did!”

  “And this is all leading up to your becoming a pastor?” Ross looked as skeptical as his question sounded.

  “Believe it or not, yes. After Mac left that day, Julia was inconsolable. She cried in her bedroom for hours. My father finally sent for Gram. She and Julia were in that room for a long time. I’ll never forget the scene that day. All of us boys were sitting in the kitchen when Gram came out alone. She spoke directly to my father.

  “‘She’s in love with Mac, Joseph, deeply in love. But it’s more than that. She can’t stand the thought that he’ll die and go to hell. She said dinner was a fiasco and that even if you did invite him back next Sunday, he probably wouldn’t come.’

  “I couldn’t get my grandmother’s words out of my head. Mac was going to hell if he didn’t realize his need for Christ. I began to pray that day as I’ve never prayed before. I begged God to save Mac. And then something happened that I never would have dreamed.

  “Mac came to church and dinner each Sunday after that, and on one of those days the two of us ended up alone together on the back porch. I was only about 12 at the time, but I knew I was supposed to talk with Mac about salvation. I was scared. Mac had always been so nice, but he was such a big man and I was a little afraid of how he would react if I told him he was a sinner and needed Christ. I really didn’t need to be afraid of anything because Mac was ready and I was the tool God used that day. I quoted some verses to Mac and he, without hesitation, prayed and trusted in Jesus Christ. I worked hard at not letting him see my tears, but he was crying too and we ended up laughing.”

  “So you knew then you wanted to be a pastor?”

  “No, Ross, not right then, but it was a turning point. When I was older and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, that day on the porch kept coming to mind. Mark, from as far back as I could remember, wanted to be a doctor. Luke and Silas’ strongest desire was to work with the horses. Julia married Mac and I went through some indecisive years, but God kept reminding me of that remarkable day. I never had more peace in my life than when I told my family I was going to seminary. I knew I wanted to spend my life telling people like Mac that they needed God.”

  As though Paul had planned it, the train rolled into Bayfield just as he was finishing his story. Within minutes the three of them stood on the station platform. Ross looked about with the avid interest of a teenager, whereas Paul and Abby were both quiet, alone with their thoughts. Wishing she could take Paul’s hand and reassure him, Abby felt all would be well. Paul, as the memories began to assail him, wondered if he was going to be able to handle this task God had called him to do.

  36

  Abby felt Paul’s hand move beneath her arm as he began to lead them away from the train. They each had small traveling bags. Ross, being the gentleman, took Abby’s. Bayfield was nestled on an inlet of Lake Superior and carried with it an air of the lake trade.

  As Paul steered his traveling companions in the direction of Lloyd Templeton’s home, the bay with its water-going vessels came into view. Gulls flapped their wings and called to one another in a high-pitched cry overhead. Ross was enthralled.

  “I’ve never been this far north before.” His voice sounded a bit breathless. “This is beautiful, I mean, being right on the water and all.”

  A few large ships were in port, and the three of them stood and watched the activity on the docks. Barrels and crates were being unloaded. Lines being thrown with shouts and some laughter. The day was a scorcher, and Abby didn’t envy the men their backbreaking task of unloading the ships.

  Tightening the hand that was still holding Abby’s arm, Paul indicated he was ready to walk on. Abby wondered if maybe she didn’t hold a bit of security for him. She prayed as they walked—he was so quiet.

  They began to climb a hill, and the silence among them deepened. The incline became rather steep before Paul stopped in front of a large two-story home. Abby, having been so intent on her walking, was not prepared for arriving at the house so quickly. And she was still worried about Paul’s silence.

  “Paul,” Abby stopped him with a hand to his arm, “maybe you should go in alone. I mean, if Ross and I will be in the way…what I’m trying to say is—”

  “I want you both with me.” Paul cut her off, thinking as he did that he could kiss her for her thoughtfulness. He was feeling very unsure of his welcome but no matter what was said to him, including being told outright that he wasn’t welcome, he still wanted them along.

  About an hour later, Paul sat opposite Lloyd Templeton in the study of their home—a home where he had been welcomed without hesitation.

  “Some might say, Paul, that you’ve been dealt a bad hand. But I’m a God-fearing man and I don’t believe God handles His children that way. But the fact is that everyone knew the truth about Corrine except you.”

  Upon arriving, Mrs. Templeton had shown Ross and Abby where they could freshen up, and Paul and Mr. Templeton had retired to the study. Paul relayed his experiences since they last saw each other and Mr. Templeton had listened with compassion, speaking only when Paul had finished.

  “I hate the fact that I was not there that night. They should never have allowed you to leave, but Hugh and Rose were in no shape to reach out to you, not that that excuses the way everything was handled. Never accepting Corrine’s illness, Hugh didn’t allow anyone to talk about it. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you how serious it was.”

  The older man stopped talking and watched Paul deal with all he had said. His next words gave Paul hope for a reconciliation with the congregation.

  “I’m not saying your leaving the church without notice was right, Paul, but we all understood. You came before us week after week, and we would have been blind not to see the way you were feeling about Corrine. We also saw Corrine more happy than we ever had and Hugh attending church on a regular basis. When you two were married, everyone went against what they knew to be true and prayed for a miracle, because a miracle was what it would have taken, Paul.

  “Now I’m not saying that God d
oesn’t have enough miracles to go around, Paul, but it just wasn’t His will that Corrine live. I think you know that now.”

  Paul nodded silently, thanking God in his heart for this godly man’s words.

  “We were a little lost at first when you left, but we continued to meet each Sunday morning for prayer. The first person we prayed for each week was our absentee pastor. Everyone still believes you belong here.”

  Paul was beginning to feel a little short of breath as he realized what Lloyd was saying to him. He still had a church! They didn’t think him gone, only absent for a while. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You, Lord.”

  Lloyd smiled at the look on his face. “Did you think God would desert us way up here in the north? He knew you were—and still are—the man for this church.”

  37

  The sky was growing dusky the next evening when Paul stood outside the Griffin home and marked their name off his list.

  He had gone to the home of each member of his congregation that day to talk with them and apologize. Not one family had turned him away. Even though his legs were throbbing, he was exuberant that he could step into the pulpit in the morning with a clear heart.

  Paul was about to return the list to his pocket when a name at the bottom caught his attention: Aaron Johnson. Paul remembered then that he hadn’t been home when he stopped. Aaron Johnson was a widower with two children and not a regular attender. Paul was determined to talk with him nonetheless. “Maybe in the morning,” he thought as he started for home. “I can single him out before the service starts.”

  Paul was back at the Templetons in time for supper, and everyone listened with joy to his excited account of the day. He shared many of his conversations and ended by saying, “I’ve been selling the people of Bayfield short with my fears of rejection. Everyone has forgiven me without hesitation.” Paul stopped because tears were clogging his throat. The women at the table were in the same condition, and they all ate in silence until dessert.