Though None Go with Me (25 page)
In the rest room Lisa submerged a washcloth in cold water and patted her grandmother's face. “My heart is so full,” Elisabeth said, “I can't imagine saying anything without blubbering.”
“You'll do fine, Grandma.”
When they returned to the platform, Ben stood waiting on the floor. Elisabeth caught her breath while others returned to their seats, then she merely nodded to the pianist and to Ben, and the music began again. He turned to look at her as he introduced the song again, and she felt the years melt away. It was as if he could look into her soul. Could this be the same young man who had walked her to her cabin that night at camp so many summers ago?
“Listen to the words,” he said, “and imagine our beloved birthday girl praying these to her Lord every day of her life.” He turned to sing in his weaker but still precise baritone.
I have decided to follow Jesus;
I have decided to follow Jesus;
I have decided to follow Jesus,
No turning back, no turning back.
The world behind me, the cross before me;
The world behind me, the cross before me;
The world behind me, the cross before me,
No turning back, no turning back.
Though none go with me,
Still I will follow;
Though none go with me,
Still I will follow;
Though none go with me,
Still I will follow.
No turning back, no turning back.
“May it ever be, Lord,” Elisabeth prayed, closing her eyes and imagining Ben singing as a college student, and her occasionally singing with him. As Ben stepped out of the spotlight and Ike Slater handed her the other microphone, she continued silently, “Calm me and let me say what you want me to say and may these dear ones hear what you want them to hear.”
“Do you want to stand?” Lisa whispered, reaching for her.
“I suppose I should.”
Lisa helped her up, and Elisabeth quickly realized what a toll the party had taken. Her throat felt dry, her heart cracked against her ribs, and she felt unsteady. Yet she owed these precious people her thanks, and Lisa was more right than she knew: Elisabeth would never pass up an opportunity to speak for God.
“I cannot begin to express,” she began, her voice thick with emotion, “what you have put in my heart today. All I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you. For coming so far. For investing your holiday this way. For reminding me just how old this body is. I can't wait to greet every one of you, to look you in the eye, to hug you, to celebrate our brotherhood and sisterhood in our Savior.
“It will come as no surprise to you that whatever spiritual gifts God gave me, public speaking was not one of them. As humbled as I have been with everything that has been said, I will be more than thrilled when my part of this is over. But if you'll bear with me, I want to tell you a story.”
She started with the tale of her birth, as her father had recounted so many times. She quickly moved to her conversation with the late Pastor Jack Hill and his wife, Margaret. And then the fateful night, the first session of the protracted meetings with Dr. Kendall Hasper in the summer of 1913.
“My heart told me that though it was a simple decision, a choice, it was also profound. The knowledge that God was there and that I was talking directly to him flattened me to the ground and made me wish I could dig myself even lower. I felt called, compelled, to make the rest of my life an experiment in obedience. Though I had been warned of the consequences, I could not have imagined what would follow.
“Many of you know what my life has been like, but many of you don't. Few would know or remember that it was that very night I learned my dear father was dying of cancer. He was my rock, my everything from a human standpoint. It was as if God were telling me, âAll right, Elisabeth, if you really want to depend on me, it will have to be on only me.'
“From that day to this, from outward appearances my life has been chaotic. I survived a fire, rescued a child from drowning, and saw my family spin out of control. I outlived my husband and all three of my children. In many ways I wouldn't wish my history on my worst enemy.”
Elisabeth shifted her weight and swallowed, willing away the lump in her throat that might make her point less clear. Her voice was still quavery, but she merely slowed and spoke as directly into the mike as she could: “And yet I am here to tell you that God is faithful.” She was interrupted by
amens,
something she hadn't heard in her church in a long time. “He is sovereign. He knows best.” More agreement. “I don't know or understand or even like every decision he has made on my behalf, but I trust him. The joy of the Lord is my strength. He is my rock and my shield, whom shall I fear?” Elisabeth was nonplussed by actual applause.
“I remember days,” she forged on, “when I would not have predicted I would reach this birthday. At times I'd rather have been in heaven with the ones I love. But you have made me glad I made it, grateful to be here, to get this tiny glimpse of heaven in advance.
“If I could be so bold as to leave you with a challenge, it would be to put all your faith in Christ, to make the truth of that song the theme of your heart, and to make your whole life an experiment in obedience. You will be putting your trust in the faithfulness of the Creator of the universe. Though you may look at my life and wonder at the wisdom of that counsel, take it from one who has also sometimes wondered, sometimes regretted, sometimes rebelled: in the end you will not regret it. God is real. He is trustworthy. And he who has begun a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.”
Elisabeth was grateful for Lisa's young strength as she dropped back into her chair. She worried she had not done justice to what was in her heart, but everyone in the room rose, and their applause warmed and lifted her. She believed they were honoring God, and she couldn't ask for more than that.
The pastor stepped up next to her and took her microphone, waiting for the ovation to fade. “I know you'll want to greet Elisabeth before you leave,” he said finally, but he was interrupted.
“Excuse me, Pastor,” Ben said. “I'm grateful for the opportunity to have sung my old friend's theme song, but I would like also to say a word, if I may.”
“Certainly,” the pastor said, and he stepped back into the shadows.
“I plan,” Ben began, “to go to the back of the line and take my turn embracing Elisabeth and wishing her well on her birthday. I will shake her hand and try to tell her what she has meant to me over the years, from when we were young and in love to when we grew old and loved others.
“But I will not be quickly letting go of her hand. I have other plans. I am proud to declare that I will risk rejection from a woman I have loved my whole life. I will somehow find my way down to one of these bony old knees and ask her to consider spending the rest of whatever time God allows us as my wife.”
The ovation began again, but Elisabeth wrestled the microphone back from Pastor Clarkson and stood, waving for silence.
“Ben Phillips, I have always known you to be bold to the point of nervy. If you think that declaring yourself in front of all these people will make it harder for me to turn you down, you should see how far my children got when they challenged my authority in public. But you're an old man, and I'm inclined to forgive you. And if by the time you finally get your audience with me I still have the energy to hear your proposal, I just might be inclined to accept it.”
Joyce had not spoken and Elisabeth was not aware she was in the room until her turn in line came more than an hour later and she knelt to take Elisabeth's hands in hers. Elisabeth jumped at the hard coldness of Joyce's fingers and felt for the woman who looked so much older than her years.
Joyce whispered, “If anyone could make me want to come back to God, Elisabeth, it's you. No promises, but just know that I've been watching you all these years. That's all I want to say. That and thanks for your influence on Lisa.” Elisabeth tried to hang on and assure Joyce that God was still waiting for her, but she hurried away.
Lisa, who had been distracted and heard none of it, put her arm around her grandmother and pulled her close, while the line waited a moment.
“Grandma,” she whispered, “I want you to know I heard you today. I'm making the same commitment you made. I want the rest of my life to be an experiment in obedience to God.”
Elisabeth held Lisa close and couldn't imagine hearing anything that thrilled her more on this special dayâwith the possible exception of what she expected from the distinguished old gentleman at the end of the line.
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