The Measure of a Heart (28 page)
“Let’s check, shall we?” Anna asked again and shifted Maggie on her knee so that she could turn her attention to little Rachael.
Anna eased Rachael toward her and held her chin with one hand while she reached out a finger to check the little one’s mouth. Anna already knew that Rachael hated being “checked” and she was ready for a protest.
But it was Maggie who responded. “Don’t,” she squealed, pushing Anna’s finger away from the danger zone. “She bites!”
“I’ll be careful,” assured Anna and began the procedure again.
Yes, there was a little tooth. And yes, it was extremely sharp. Anna discovered just how sharp when the little tot champed down on her exploring finger. It was all that Anna could do to keep from responding with a little cry.
“Does she?” asked Maggie. “Does she got a tooth?”
Anna nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, she has a tooth all right.”
Her finger still smarted.
“Will Papa be happy?” asked Maggie, wiping tears.
“Yes, Papa will be happy,” answered Anna.
“Then he better come home—quick,” said Maggie, “so we can tell him. Else he won’t know nothin’ at all ’bout Rachael’s tooth.”
Maggie gave her hand a little flourish and shrugged her tiny shoulders.
“Papa will be home tomorrow,” Anna reminded her.
“Tomorrows are long times,” observed Maggie.
“Not so long. Just one more sleep,” replied Anna. But she admitted to herself that the four days of Austin’s absence had seemed like a long time to her, too.
Anna lifted the two girls from her knees and got up from the floor rug.
“Should we tell him ’bout the tooth, or should we s’prise?” asked Maggie, all trace of tears now gone.
“Surprise, how?” asked Anna.
Maggie shrugged again but her eyes began to take on a glint. “Just let Rachael chew his thumb,” she said simply. “Then he’ll know.”
Anna nodded. He’d know, all right. If Rachael chewed with the same voracity that she had just champed on her mother’s finger.
“I think we’d better tell him,” she said to Maggie and Maggie looked just a bit disappointed.
The whole family was glad to see Austin arrive back home the following day. Maggie shouted her pleasure and at once pounced on Austin with scores of questions and animated tales of what had happened while he’d been gone. Rachael squealed and waved chubby hands. Anna was the most restrained, but the most deeply affected. The house had seemed so empty with Austin gone. It was the first they had been separated since her one trip home. She hadn’t realized what a big piece of herself would be missing while he was away.
Throughout the afternoon, Austin thought of little bits of news to pass on to Anna. “Everyone missed you,” he informed her. “They sent their love. Mrs. Angus said to be sure to greet you for her.”
“How is she?” she asked Austin. Anna truly had missed seeing the elderly woman with her gentle ways.
“I think she looks a bit better than last year. I guess retirement is giving her a bit of a chance to rest.”
Anna was pleased with the news.
Anna also heard that Milt Smith had needed an emergency appendectomy. That Mrs. Buttle was expecting another child. That Reverend Willis was having some serious eye problems. His wife now had to read all the materials for his sermon preparation to him. Mrs. Giles was feeling much better after her operation. The little Thomas boy had broken his leg in a fall from a swing. And Miss Small, the college dean, was planning to be married after forty years of spinsterhood.
“I saw Mrs. Whiting,” went on Austin. “She is the new Ladies’ Aid president. She wondered if there was anyone in our community who could use another missionary barrel.”
Anna held her breath.
“What did you say?” she finally asked when she realized that Austin was not going to volunteer his answer.
“I told her that you were very good at making use of the items yourself and that with two growing girls you often sewed. She said she’d keep that in mind when they made up the barrel.”
Anna felt a little prayer of thanks well from her heart.
“Did she say when they might send one?” she asked softly, trying hard not to get too impatient.
“She said they’d work on it next meeting,” replied Austin, offhandedly.
Next meeting. Anna began to calculate. She should have some materials to work with well before another winter set in.
But Austin was speaking again.
“I must get to work on my Sunday sermon,” he said to Anna. Then continued, “At least I feel that I have something to preach about again.”
Anna did not understand the comment. But with Maggie clamoring for attention and Rachael wanting her supper, she did not have time to ask for an explanation.
It wasn’t until the girls had been tucked in bed for the night that Austin and Anna had an opportunity to really talk.
“I’m sorry you had to miss Conference,” he told her. “I think that it was the best we’ve ever had.”
“Best? How?” asked Anna.
“The most . . . encouraging. Refreshing. Challenging,” responded Austin.
Anna looked at her husband. He did look refreshed. Again she felt sorrow that she had remained at home. She could have used some encouragement. Some refreshing.
“I admit,” continued Austin, “that I was feeling rather down when I left. Defeated. I even wondered if I had really been called to the ministry, or if I had just assumed it on my own. I was seriously wondering if I should quit.”
Anna’s eyes widened.
“I mean,” hurried on Austin, “my family have all been involved in one kind of ministry or another. I wondered if I just thought—well—that I should be, too. But—but nothing was happening—”
Austin stopped and rubbed his hand over his heavy thatch of hair and let his fingers curl around the nape of his neck.
Anna felt her chest tighten. It was her fault. Would Austin dare to say it?
“Reverend Morris, the evangelist, brought some powerful sermons,” Austin went on, “and the sharing times yielded some strange discoveries.”
Anna waited.
Austin let his hand drop from his neck and wrapped his long fingers around Anna’s slim ones.
“Do you know that there were at least six other men who were sharing my same thoughts and feelings?”
“Six men thought you should quit the ministry?” asked Anna, her voice trembling.
Austin shook his head quickly. “No. No. Not me. They all thought they should quit. They thought that their ministry was ineffective. That they didn’t have the ability to be servants.”
Anna could not believe her ears. She might be Austin’s problem, but she had nothing to do with the other men. Did she?
“And then Reverend Angus got up and spoke to us all, the tears running down his face as he spoke. ‘Boys,’ he said. It was strange to be called boys. ‘Sons, don’t let Satan use that lie to destroy your ministry,’ he said. ‘You see, it’s his business to tell you that you are a failure. That you are letting God, the church, your families, yourselves down. Over the years of my ministry, he told me that many times, too. And I must admit, to my shame, that there were times when I believed him.’ ”
“He said that?” breathed Anna, her large eyes widening in incredulity.
Austin nodded. He lifted Anna’s hand and held it in both of his own.
“ ‘God has called you—you are answerable only to Him,’
Reverend Angus said. ‘I don’t believe God keeps the same set of statistics that we as the church find it necessary to keep. How many calls? How many conversions? How many baptisms? Those are kept for our records. Because we need some sort of accounting. But God’s records are of another sort. How faithful to your calling? How concerned over lost souls? How willing to be obedient? How close a walk with Him? God doesn’t care so much about statistics. But about faithfulness, commitment, obedience, devotion. That’s what He wants to see. Growth. Personal growth.’ ”
Austin stopped to struggle with emotion. Anna held her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say—how to respond.
“I’ve been on the wrong track, Anna,” Austin managed at last. “I think I’ve been more concerned about—about success than—than obedience.”
Anna longed to argue, but she held her peace.
“God wants me—my love and devotion, even more than He wants my service,” continued Austin. “I haven’t really given Him that. I’ve been too busy worrying about getting converts.”
“But converts—” began Anna.
“I know,” Austin said quickly. “Converts are important. But because they are lost, they are loved. They are people for whom Christ died. For His sake—for their sakes—I need to give them that message of hope, but not for my sake, Anna. Not for my sake. Not for numbers in a book—or—or statistics to be sent to the superintendent.”
Austin was trembling. Anna reached out to place her free hand on his arm.
“And I’ve been made to realize something else, too,” went on Austin. “If I never have a convert in all of my years of ministry, I can still be faithful. I can still be obedient. You see, I don’t make converts. I can’t. I can only give the message. The Spirit must do the work of salvation—of conversion. There is no way that Austin Barker can save any man. Oh, I’ve known that all along, of course, but I haven’t been acting like I did. I haven’t been living like I did. I’ve been trying to carry the whole load myself. I’ve been thinking that it all depended on me. How well I preached. How much I prayed. How effective I was.
“Well, it doesn’t, Anna. It all depends on the Lord. It has all along. My inadequacies, my lack of talent, of wisdom, that is no matter to the Lord. Scripture says that He can use the weak, the small, the inadequate. Me.
“I—I had no idea you were—were feeling those things,” murmured Anna, clinging to Austin’s hand. She didn’t add, I thought it was just me, but she could have.
“I’m a man,” said Austin, tears threatening. “I tried not to let it show. We bluff our way. To admit doubts would be to admit failure.”
“But you haven’t failed,” argued Anna further. “We have a church instead of the schoolhouse. Mr. and Mrs. Cross have both become Christians. Several new people are attending—regularly. The neighborhood boys are no longer angry and troublesome. Some of them are even coming to church. You’ve not failed.”
Austin patted her hand. Then he sniffed and chuckled softly. “Do you realize that all those things have come about through you?” he asked simply.
Anna could only stare open mouthed. “Oh, but that’s not so,” she hastened to argue. “You’ve done all the work on the new church.”
“And who talked me into accepting the dingy old building?”
“But you—” began Anna. Austin was shaking his head.
“You explained to Matt—” Anna started again.
“Who made the first contact?”
“But—” Anna floundered.
Austin pulled her close and kissed her. He didn’t argue further. Instead, he lifted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. “I love you, Anna,” he said simply. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have given up long ago. God really knew what He was doing when He gave you to me.” He kissed her on the nose.
Anna felt as if she were drowning in confusion. Her strong, capable Austin had struggled with thoughts of depression and defeat. Austin, the one with the abilities, the talent, the intelligence, the training. He was leaning on her—the inadequate one. The one who had just finished eighth grade. The one who had no training for ministry. No wisdom in dealing with lost souls. No abilities in leadership. It didn’t make any sense. Something was terribly scrambled. Anna felt weak with the unexpected, unwelcome discovery.
Daily Anna watched for the arrival of the missionary barrel. Each day she was disappointed. It was hard to be patient with fall approaching and so few proper garments on hand for her small daughters. She tried not to let her agitation show. Tried to pray and praise. But she felt her anxiety making her stomach knot.
“This is not faith,” she scolded herself. “I know very well that God will provide our needs in plenty of time. Perhaps we will have a long, beautiful fall and I won’t need the clothes for months yet.”
And Anna determined that she would not fret but would wait for the Lord’s provision whenever and however it should arrive.
