God, I don’t want to have get-even thoughts like that. You said to
take every thought captive unto Christ. How do I do that? They sneak
up on me and get away before I have time to grab them.
“Anyone else, what did you notice?”
Astrid raised her hand, and at his nod, she said, “Many people were healed just by touching Jesus’ clothes. Often they didn’t ask or thank Him. Sometimes He didn’t even say anything. But the verses say many were healed.”
“Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Do you believe miracles like that go on today?” There. She’d voiced one of the things that bothered her. Was she alone in wondering this?
“What does the Bible say about time and God?”
“That time means nothing to Him.”
Someone else added, “That He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”
“Another place says that God never changes.”
“If that is true, what does it mean?” Rev. Thompkins locked eyes with her, but instead of intimidating her, she felt he really cared that she understand.
“That if He cared for them before He will care for them now?”
“You are correct.”
“But then why don’t we see it?”
Many times I did all I could and
prayed and others prayed, and still the patient died.
“All right, everyone open your Bibles to Matthew 17:19. What does Jesus say to His disciples when they asked Him why they couldn’t heal people or drive out demons?”
“The Scripture says because of their unbelief.”
“And how much faith did they need to cast the mountain into the sea?”
“The size of a mustard seed.”
“How big is a mustard seed?”
“Very small.”
He looked around the class. “I tell you that as God grows your faith, you too will see miracles. But you must have eyes that see and ears that hear.” He bowed his head. “Lord God, increase our faith that we may see you in action. Amen.” He smiled around the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Would you like to join us for a glass of iced tea?” Dr. Gansberg asked as they left the classroom. “We feel in need of a restorative.”
“As do I.” Astrid pretended to mop her forehead. “I sure hope his promise of thinking more clearly because I am memorizing Scripture is valid and true. I can tell I need to know my Bible far better than I do.”
“You think that might be one of the reasons why we are here?” Dr. Gansberg asked.
His wife patted his arm. “Let’s get fortified before the discussion takes off again.”
When they sat at a table, one of the students working there brought them glasses of sweet tea, as they called it. Astrid drank more than a sip, relishing the cold slipping down her throat.
“You asked a question today that has bothered me ever since I started studying medicine,” Dr. Gansberg said. “Thank you for having the courage to ask.”
“About the miracles?”
He nodded. “I have seen people live, and I have seen people die, but no one has lived because he touched the hem of my coat. Never have I been able to say, ‘Take up your bed and walk. Your faith has made you well.’ Nor have I ever heard the blind rejoicing because now they could see.” He drew rings with his glass on the tabletop.
Is there more that we don’t know or see? Of course there is. Dear
God, how do we do the healing you said we should?
She could hear Rev. Thompkins as if he were seated right there at the table with them. “You will find the answers to any question in the Word of God.”
“Thank you for the tea break. I need to go start memorizing.” Astrid pushed back her chair. “Thank you, both of you.”
Back in her room she picked up her Bible, a tablet, and a pencil, adjourned to her shady nook, and turned to Matthew, chapter five. She read the chapter through, broke it down into sections, and started in. She read both silently and aloud, over and over again. She wrote out the blessing verses she had started with and then closed her eyes to see if she could brand the words on the backs of her eyelids.
Blessed
are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy
caught in her throat because of all she had grown up with in Blessing and all the healing God did through so many doctors and nurses. She paused to pray a word of thanksgiving, and time disappeared.
When the bell from the brick tower above the chapel building chimed for supper, she tucked the paper into the waistband of her skirt. Pocket or no pocket, she was going to class tomorrow with a good part of that chapter in her mind.
Along with a beginning list of questions to which she wanted answers.
THAT NIGHT SHE took a deep breath and started a letter to Elizabeth, deciding to add more each day.
Dear Elizabeth and Thorliff, and Inga too,
I know you were terribly disappointed when I came here instead of back to Blessing. I hope that by now you have forgiven me and that you are both praying with me that I learn what God’s will is in all this. I keep reminding myself that two years will go by very quickly, and yes, I’m not really planning on anything until I know if I am approved or not.
My favorite class is being taught by a returned missionary, Rev. Thompkins. His love for God just flows out of him, like it does from Pastor Solberg. He has challenged us to memorize the entire Sermon on the Mount and complete books of the Bible. It is a good thing that I memorize quickly. I think all my medical training helped with that.
This campus is a lovely place, and I am so grateful for warm weather. I know Mor would be enthralled with all the blooming flowers and trees and bushes. Everything blossoms, and so many have wonderful fragrances.
My big concern is finding something to do that uses what I have been trained for. A class on tropical diseases starts next week. Is it awful to say I am looking forward to that? More tomorrow. Back to memorizing.
She looked at the letter. Maybe she should send this part first so that Elizabeth would hear her apology.
No, I’ ll wait one more day.
How strange it was not to be helping her mother with spring cleaning. Every year she had helped her mother scrub walls and floors, beat rugs, wash curtains and bedding, and wash the windows—if there wasn’t still frost on them. Funny . . . well, not funny but peculiar, for she never had cared much for all that cleaning. Of course it looked lovely when finished, but then the house wasn’t that dirty before they began. The Saturday before Palm Sunday everyone would be at the church, cleaning and polishing every inch. The thought made her more homesick than ever. What kind of weather were they having in Blessing? Why had no one written to her? Was everyone mad at her for not coming home?
THEY HAD NO classes from Wednesday of Holy Week on. Many of the students who lived nearby had gone home for the entire week. Dean Highsmith had invited the remaining missionary students to join him and his wife for dinner after church on Easter Sunday.
Astrid stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had no new bonnet or hat for Easter, nor a new spring or summer dress. Other years she and her mother had sewn new gowns for Easter. She’d thought to sew a new dress for Inga too. Had Mor done that? She just wasn’t getting enough news from home.
On her way to the service, a thought struck.
I can pick up a tele
-
phone and call Mor. Surely everyone will be at their house.
The decision lent wings to her feet. Suddenly the need to hear her mother’s voice consumed her like flames devouring split wood. She silenced her thoughts as she entered the church.
The pastor raised his voice when the organ silenced. “He is risen!”
“He is risen, indeed,” responded the congregation. They turned the pages in their hymnals to the opening hymn. After the last hallelujah as the Easter story was read, Astrid felt as though she were one of the women running to the tomb. She could feel the shock of seeing the magnificent angel, the joy that Christ had indeed done what He’d said He would do—rise again, overcome death. Walk and talk with His disciples. Christ the Lord is risen today. Hallelujah!
“This is the first time in my life that I am not at the church I grew up in for Easter,” she confided to the Gansbergs as they left the church. “We don’t have a fancy organ like this one or carved pews and carpet on the floor, but there is much love and rejoicing that we can celebrate together.” She paused for a moment. “I did love hearing the organ, however. I think heaven is going to sound like Easter Sunday all of the time.”
Mrs. Gansberg put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Astrid, you say the best things.”
Astrid blinked back a quick onslaught of eye moisture. How she wanted to hug her mother. Far too. “I’m going to telephone my family after dinner. It will surely shock them, but I thought it would be a good idea.”
“Your mother must miss you dreadfully.”
But she would never complain.
“My mother is my hero. No one could have a better mother than I have.”
DEAN HIGHSMITH AND his wife were gracious dinner hosts, but Astrid couldn’t help thinking of home, where everyone would be gathered together after the Easter service, enjoying Mor’s cooking. A pang of homesickness hit her hard. She startled back to the conversation around her when she realized the dean’s nephew was speaking to her.
“I still do not understand why a young female as yourself would want to go to Africa.” He stared at her with raised eyebrows.
Astrid swallowed and made herself relax. “I think I have explained that this was not my idea but a calling from God. I am just praying that I heard Him correctly.” How she managed to smile at the pompous young man was beyond her. She kept a smile in place. “Maybe some things are not for us to understand but to seek and trust.” She glanced up to see Dean Highsmith covering his mouth with his napkin. Did he think this amusing?
Glancing at the nephew, she knew he didn’t. Actually she wondered how he could swallow his food, his collar was so tight.
“There is something I don’t understand.”
He nodded, as if granting her permission to speak.
“Why does my being here bother you so much?” There, she had put what had been bothering her right out in the open.
His neck and shoulders stiffened. “I—I see it as a waste of resources.”
“A waste?” She tipped her chin down and slightly to the side.
“Yes. You are taking the place of a man to do this job.”
“I see. And how many trained male doctors have applied since I did?”
His eyes flashed. “That is beside the point.”
“All right, children, this has gone far enough. I declare a moratorium on any further discussion. We will wait and see what God reveals to us, for we know and trust that He will do exactly that. As the Scripture says, ‘Be ready to answer when you are questioned.’ ” He raised a hand toward his sputtering nephew. “I know that was not a direct quote, but that was the meaning of the verse.” He laid his folded napkin beside his plate. “Let us adjourn to the veranda, where the dessert will be served.” He pushed back his chair and smiled at the others.
On their way out, Astrid asked Dean Highsmith where there was a telephone she could use. He showed her to his study. “Use mine.”
“How will I pay you?”