Sewn with Joy (33 page)

“Elizabeth, it's beautiful.”

The older woman walked from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “My mother loved china, and she used to pick up pieces at yard sales. Nothing matches, but I think that's what makes it so special—mismatched items coming together on display.”

Joy reached her hand forward and ran her finger along the rim of a white china dish with a pattern of pink roses around the rim. Eleven other place settings were on display, each unique yet beautiful. “This must be a special dinner party.”

“Oh, it will be.” Elizabeth pointed to the kitchen. “Can you help me carry in the food?”

“Now? Don't you want to wait?” When they walked into the kitchen, Joy looked to the wall clock, noticing it was five minutes to six. “I'm sure the others will be here in the next few minutes.”

“Oh, I'm not so sure about that.” Elizabeth motioned to a small pan with sliced roast beef inside. “There are potatoes and corn in the oven too. Pot holders are in the drawer.”

Joy placed the meat on the table, returned to the kitchen, and opened the oven door. There was a small bowl of mashed potatoes and two ears of corn already smothered in butter. Tension tightened Joy's gut. This wasn't nearly enough food. Had Elizabeth asked her to bring something and she'd forgotten? Or maybe Elizabeth had expected her to bring a dish without being asked. Joy used the pot holder and pulled out the potatoes.

“If you need me to, I'll run to Yoder's,” she called to Elizabeth, who'd already taken a seat at the table. “I'll be happy to go pick up a few more sides.”

“Nonsense. There's plenty. And I'm glad you're a few minutes early because my stomach has been rumbling for the last half hour.”

Joy placed the potatoes and corn on the table, puzzled by the contented look on her older friend's face.

Joy looked toward the front window. “Shouldn't we wait for the others?”

“Sit down, Joy,” Elizabeth stated plainly. “I'll explain after we pray.”

Joy did as she was told. She sat down, scooted in, and folded her hands on her lap. Then in unison the two women bowed their heads in silent prayer.

Joy prayed for her friend, prayed that her mind wasn't slipping as their grandmother's had done five years ago. She also prayed that Elizabeth could stay steady on her feet. And finally, she prayed she'd be better at anticipating her friend's needs.

Elizabeth served Joy and then herself. “Eat up…and there is plenty for seconds.”

“But what about the others?”

“Oh, they'll be coming, but not today.”

Joy tilted her head and slowly cut her roast. She took a bite and chewed with intention, wondering what else to ask, what to say.

Elizabeth chuckled. “I can see you are troubled, but I've done this as an illustration.”

“An illustration?”

“
Ja.
You see, when I was your age, I had a dream about a long table just like this. It was fancy, and I didn't understand it.” Elizabeth took a bite of her potatoes and closed her eyes as she chewed. She smiled out of pure enjoyment. “When I was growing up Amish, one would never think of having dishes like these. It would be far too fancy. The only reason my
mem
started collecting them was because they were used and not in a set. Buying
a piece for a few coins was practical, but I always guessed she enjoyed their beauty too.”

“And the table in your dream. Was it filled with guests?”

“
Ne
, and that was the strange part.” Elizabeth dabbed the corners of her mouth with her red paper napkin and sighed. “It was just me with all the food. The first time I dreamed it, I was excited—all that just for me. But the next time, I wished I had someone to share it with. And each time I dreamed it after that, all I could focus on were all those empty chairs.”

“How many times did you have the dream?” Joy had nearly forgotten about her meal and was focused on her friend's face. “And why haven't you told me this before?”

“Oh, I've lived many years. There is too much about me and my life to tell. And I probably had the dream five or six times before the first guest arrived.”

Joy sat up straighter. She put down her fork. Her eyes focused on Elizabeth. “A guest? Was it your mother, finally able to eat a feast on all her china?”

“
Ne.
It wasn't. It was a neighbor, Wilma. She was
Englisch
. I used to go visit her when I was a child because she had a lot of pet birds. One would sit on my finger and mimic me. When I got older, Wilma had a lot of questions about my
kapp
, my dress, and our Amish ways. I tried to explain the best I could, but it was hard. I often didn't understand it all myself. Then one day I got tired of answering all her questions. I saved up my money and bought her a Bible. It was the first one she'd ever owned.” Elizabeth's eyes flickered and her voice softened. She was still talking, but it was as if she were looking into the past as she spoke, rather than focusing on Joy, who was sitting right there in the room.

“After that, whenever I visited Wilma, I always saw that Bible sitting on her table. Once I saw her with a group of women,
walking into a church. She seemed happier, and sometimes when I visited there were other friends there too. Nice Christian ladies.”

Warmth filled Joy's chest. “She started to believe in Jesus, didn't she?”

“
Ja
, and that's what I started to figure out. That's what I believe the Lord was trying to tell me. Later, I read in His Word about the banqueting table Jesus is preparing for us. I've read many times how in heaven we'll be eating and feasting with God. Jesus said in one of His parables that we should go out into the roads and country lanes and urge people to come to the feast. There will never be more people than seats in God's kingdom. In fact, the opposite is true.”

Joy glanced to the empty seat next to her and then the one after that. And the one after that. “And these seats.” Her lips opened in realization. “The invites weren't your job, were they? They were mine.”

A slow smile lifted Elizabeth lips and pushed up her cheeks. “God already knows who He wants sitting in these chairs. He has places for the men and women around us. He wants to guide them to Jesus so He can welcome them into heaven, but first we need to welcome them into our lives…or sometimes step into theirs. If we don't spend time with people in this community who need Jesus, there will be no relationship. Without a relationship there will be no reason for them to take time to listen as we talk about God and faith.” Elizabeth sighed. “How will they come if they do not hear? And how will they hear if we do not go to them?”

Joy nodded and wiped tears from her eyes. She understood why Elizabeth hadn't wanted her to quit. She also understood why God had put her where she was. Her job wasn't over yet, and that job had nothing to do with the television show. Why had it taken her so long to see that?

Twenty-Nine

Be life long or short, its completeness depends on what it was lived for.

A
MISH PROVERB

J
oy didn't waste any time inviting her friends to the table—or at least inviting Alicia to visit. The evening started out with dinner for her family. They had a casserole her
mem
called Sunday Dinner, and then her parents and sisters went over to Hope's garden behind the pie shop to finish making plans for the upcoming weddings. Alicia had shown up after that, excited for time together.

At the kitchen sink, Joy filled the coffeepot and then poured the water into the machine and turned it on. Thirty seconds later the coffee began to drip.

“It's so much easier making coffee here than back home. Back in Ohio,
Mem
would put a coffeepot on our woodstove in the kitchen.”

“You cooked on a woodstove?”

“We had a gas stove too, but
Mem
preferred the wood one. I'd say most of the people from our church feel the same.”

“I'm not sure I want to go to your church.” Alicia chuckled. “I won't fit in. I…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, unless I borrow clothes from wardrobe, I won't be dressed like anyone else. And then all the Amish I've met here are so gentle, so thoughtful. I'd be like a bull in a china shop.” She stood and held the edges of her floral skirt and did a curtsy. “No one has ever accused me of being gentle or soft-spoken. In fact I'm pretty sure this is the only role I've ever played without carrying a gun.”

“That's not what believing in God is all about, Alicia. It's not like you have to change everything in your life.”

“Just my lifestyle, my language, my habits, and my clothing. Not much at all.”

Joy chuckled. “Don't feel that you have to become Amish when you turn your life over to God. Jesus died for the sins of every person—not simply those who wear a
kapp
or grow a beard. I choose to remain Amish because I like our simple lifestyle. I like our focus on God and our families.”

The smile that was typical on Alicia's face had disappeared. She quickly wiped her eyes and then looked down at her fingers. Her nails were cut short and without nail polish, just like an Amish woman's. Alicia squeezed her fingertips into her palms, obviously trying to hold her emotions at bay.

“What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?” Joy asked.

“I'd like to believe you, Joy. I really would. But you're so innocent. So unblemished. It's easy for me to believe God loves and accepts you. But me…well, that's another story.”

“What do you mean?”

“I do believe there is a God. That's been a huge step, but I've done some things I regret. Lots of things, but two things I'm pretty sure God won't ever forgive me for.” Alicia stood and paced to the window, staring out into the neatly manicured backyard.
Her shoulders were squared and tight, and she reached her hand up and rubbed the back of her neck as if that would release the tension she felt inside.

Joy wanted to go to her. She wanted to say something to make her feel better. She also considered changing the subject. It was hard to see her friend struggling so. Yet God's quiet Spirit inside told her to just sit still and wait. She didn't need to try to push out words to fill the empty spaces, because if she did, Alicia wouldn't have the chance to express her heart.

“I read through the Ten Commandments last night,” Alicia finally said. “Someone had highlighted it in the Gideon Bible in my hotel room.” She tilted her head as if thinking through the list in her mind. “I attended church a few times as a kid, so I sort of knew what they were, but I was shocked to discover I've broken every one.”

Joy's mouth opened slightly, and she tried not to let out a gasp.
Every one? Dear God, what did Alicia do?

Alicia turned slowly. “You Amish people are probably the only ones in America who don't know this—you know, with the tabloids and all—but Rowan and I split up because I had an affair with one of my costars. I won't go into details, but I was blasted by the media…and Rowan was crushed.”

“I didn't know. I'm so sorry.”

“I wish I could go back and do it over. Or rather
not
do it. Rowan and I had something good.” Tears came then, and Alicia returned to the table, sitting across from Joy. “That's not the worst of it though, and when I tell you this you'll be one of the only people on the planet who will know, but ten years ago I…I had an abortion.”

As Joy slowly took in that revelation, she ached with compassion for her friend. Alicia's face turned red, and the tears came
harder now. She placed both hands over her face and hung her head. “I…I regret it. I'd just gotten my first role. I thought a child would ruin everything…and the doctor said my problems would be over if I did it…that everything would go back to normal. But it was a lie. Nothing but a lie.”

“I'm so sorry you have to deal with such pain. Nothing can undo a decision like that, but I do know one thing.”

“What's that?”

“I heard this from a visiting minister once. He told us about a man who was drinking and driving and hit an Amish buggy, seriously injuring a couple and killing their three children. When the man was in jail, the Amish father visited him. He was in a wheelchair. He'd come to offer the prisoner forgiveness, and he told him Jesus wanted to forgive him too. The man was full of pain and said he could never forgive himself.”