The Measure of a Heart (9 page)

He stopped and set down the pails. Then he reached out his hands to her.

“Oh, Anna,” he said and his voice sounded husky. “I have been thinking and praying until—until—But it all makes so much sense. No one understands me like you do. No one feels the heartbeat of my ministry. I know that you are young. But—but God keeps reminding me that you are also—also perfect.”

“Oh, Pastor Barker,” said Anna quickly, her face going pale. “I am not perfect.” Her mind began to sort through a long list of shortcomings.

But he reached for her hand and drew her nearer. “For me, and for what God has called me to, you are,” he insisted.

But Anna shook her head. “No,” she argued. “I’m not—not perfect for—for anything.”

“Then we will be wonderfully teamed,” he laughed softly. “I’m not perfect either.”

But Anna was in no mood to share his teasing. Her head was still spinning from the shock of his question. What was he thinking? Asking?

“I—I have already asked your father,” he said, seriousness returning to his face and voice.

“You—you asked my pa?” exclaimed Anna incredulously.

“I did. That’s why I went to the field to meet him.”

Anna felt a shock wave go all through her being. She couldn’t even speak to ask how her father had responded.

“He gave us his blessing,” went on Austin, reaching for her other hand. “Now, all I need, all I am hoping to hear . . . is your yes. Will you marry me, Anna? Will you share in my ministry—my life?”

Anna was stunned. She had prayed for a wife for Pastor Austin Barker. She had never dreamed that she might be that wife. Had never dreamed that he would ever want her. She was needed at home—to help her mama. Anna had never thought of her life in any other context. But her father had given his blessing. Did that mean that she was released to go?
Did it mean that God might have other plans for her? She didn’t know what to say. How to answer.

A feeling of total inadequacy overwhelmed her. She thought of the good Mrs. Angus. She, Anna, could never measure up. She could never be what a pastor’s wife must be. She was little and scrawny and plain. She had no talents or abilities. No. No, it was out of the question. How dare she even consider it for a moment?

“I—I can’t,” she faltered. “I—I—”

“Please, Anna,” Austin was pleading. “Please. I have come all this way for your answer. I love you, Anna. I guess I have for much longer than I care to admit—but I didn’t realize at first that my ‘honor student’ had also stolen my heart.”

“What would your mama and papa say?” managed Anna.

“My mother will be thrilled. I think that she understood how things really were—even before I did.” He tipped his head and smiled again. “I even think she might have been doing a lot of praying of late. And my father—he was impressed with you as well. They will both be very pleased—if you say yes.”

It was totally unthinkable. Austin would be so disappointed when he learned of all of her inadequacies.

“I—I don’t know how to be a pastor’s wife,” Anna stumbled.

“And I don’t yet know how to be a pastor,” replied Austin with a bit of a chuckle as he gently eased her closer. “We’ll learn together.”

“But you don’t understand,” quickly cut in Anna, pulling back. “I—I don’t think I can learn. I—” She stopped and shook her head, her eyes turned to his with pleading for understanding.

“I love you, Anna,” he repeated. “And I have prayed—much—and if I understand the will of God, He has seemed to indicate that I could at least ask you.”

Anna shook her head in bewilderment. She looked at the man before her, her eyes wide, and tried to swallow. He looked so serious. He had been praying. Anna’s world was still spinning around—but she looked up at Austin, evenly, candidly, and nodded her head, her blue eyes looking intently into his. She swallowed, fighting back her fear. She felt dreadfully unworthy, but if he wanted her to share his ministry—if God truly approved of her being Austin’s wife—then she would not hesitate any longer. She would do the best she could do—for the God who loved her—for the man she—yes, she loved.

Chapter Eight

Beginning to Serve

They were married in Anna’s church. Reverend Angus came back to perform the ceremony and Austin’s parents came the long thousand miles to share in the joy of their youngest son.

“We are so pleased that you are now really ‘our’ Anna,” Mrs. Barker exclaimed, holding Anna in a warm embrace. Anna felt delightfully welcomed and a good deal nervous. Would she ever be able to live up to their expectations? She, a simple country girl? She would try. She would try with all her heart, but she still was worried that she would fall far short of what a minister’s wife should be.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Austin Barker left soon after the wedding. Anna could not believe that she was really saying goodbye. That she would not be there to tuck Petey into bed that night or to deliver the milk to the pastor’s family. To flip the pancakes for the morning breakfast or take the feed to the hens. Who would take over her many tasks? It would be too heavy a load for her mother to carry alone. Anna felt confused. She wanted to share in Austin’s life and his ministry. Felt that she was doing the right thing in becoming his wife. But what of her overworked mother? Who would be there to help her? Searing guilt nagged cruelly with each thought of leaving her mother.

They traveled the forty miles by horse and buggy, staying a night in a small hotel in a little town on the way. Austin apologized for the simple accommodation, but Anna didn’t understand why. It was her first experience in a hotel and the room seemed quite adequate to her. It was also the first meal she had ever eaten in a hotel dining room. She couldn’t believe that she would be given the choice of an entire menu and found herself unable to decide.

“You pick for me,” she whispered to her new husband. “All these different choices are confusing.”

He laughed and decided on the roast beef for both of them. They even had apple pie for dessert. Anna left the table feeling overfed. She refused to waste food by leaving any on her plate.

The next day they were up early and on their way to the new parsonage. Austin apologized about it too. “It is a very simple little place,” he warned. “Only three small rooms. Very small rooms. A kitchen—where the stove takes up half of the space, a living room—that has to serve as parlor, family living, and my library all in one, and a bedroom without the benefit of a closet.”

It sounded fine to Anna. She was sure that she’d find some way to make it “homey.” She thought of Mrs. Angus and her African violets and wished there was some way for her to get a few slips to start growing them in their own little home.

When they reached the parsonage, Anna saw that Austin was right. The rooms were small. So small that Anna wondered where she would find room to unpack her few belongings.

She removed her new bonnet, another gift from her mama’s egg money, and changed from her traveling suit. She carefully hung the clothes that had served her at Austin’s graduation on the few hooks on the wall, spreading the worn sheet about them to keep the dust off. Then dressed in a nearly new cotton print, she set about her duties as the wife of the community minister. In her mind’s eye was the good Mrs. Angus—her model and mentor. Anna knew deep within herself that she would never measure up, but she determined to try her hardest.

The small congregation was meeting in the local schoolhouse. Austin introduced her to the group on their first Sunday.

“I have the pleasure of presenting to you my lovely bride, Mrs. Anna Barker,” he said to them and invited Anna to stand and turn to greet them.

Anna felt the color wash over her face as she slowly rose and faced them from her front-row seat. There they were. Austin’s people. Her people. She smiled at them shyly and was gratified to see their warm response.

She sat back down in her seat and tried to compose herself before she had to meet them individually at the door.

A glimpse toward her husband filled her heart with pride. He was such a fine-looking man, such a good man. Anna could hardly believe even yet that she was actually his wife.

And then her thoughts traveled on, making her squirm slightly in the pew. They will all be wondering what he ever saw in me. And I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to explain it. It’s a mystery to me, as well.

They settled into their new life, their new roles as husband and wife. Anna found little ways to make the most of her small home and Austin felt more comfortable as pastor. When it came time to go calling, they hitched their mare to the new one-horse buggy and set out together. As far as Anna could remember, Mrs. Angus had always called along with her husband.

Friday came—the day that Austin set aside each week as the final day of sermon preparation. He had to spread his Bible and books all over the kitchen table, and Anna didn’t know how she would manage to bake her batch of bread.

I must change my baking day, she said to herself. Instead of Tuesdays and Fridays, it must be Mondays and Thursdays. But how can I ever bake bread and do the laundry all on the same day? Anna and her mother had always washed clothes on Mondays. She gave the matter some thought.

I guess there is nothing sacred about washing on Monday, she decided at last. From now on I will wash on Tuesday.

But it did seem odd to Anna. If her washing did not appear on the clothesline bright and clean early on Monday mornings, would the town folks think she was negligent in her household tasks?

When Anna had wrestled a bit further with the problem, she finally concluded that Austin’s sermon was more important than her washday. She switched the laundry to Tuesday.

Wednesdays would be set aside for visiting their parishioners. Saturdays for cleaning and making preparations for Sunday. Thus their week was generally established. They soon discovered that there were constant adjustments to the schedule as various needs arose from families in the community.

But it was the evenings that were the bright spot of Anna’s day. After the daily tasks were completed, the lamps lit, Austin spent time studying from his shelf of books. Anna, of course, was free to help herself to any of them—and she often did. On those occasions when her hands were busy with mending or sewing, Austin read to her. Lively discussion followed as they exchanged ideas with enthusiasm. They often found that those conversations ended with one or the other—sometimes both—taking a little different point of view than they had when they had begun.

“You’re good for me, Anna,” Austin often told her. “You force me to think.”

Anna could only shake her head. Austin was the thinker of the family.

But Austin continued to encourage Anna to study and to set aside a good portion of her time “mining for gold” among his many books. In fact, more than encouraging, he depended upon her. Every new concept that he discovered, he shared with Anna. Back and forth, pro and con, each candidly and openly expressed their views until they felt they had reached a reasonable and biblical conclusion.

And Austin always wanted Anna’s response to his Sunday sermons, both before and after they were delivered. She read them carefully, critically, not with an intent of tearing them apart, but to judge if they progressed easily, were insightful, yet able to be clearly understood by the least educated member of the congregation.