Sewn with Joy (43 page)

“The most important thing about marriage is forgiveness,” she
stated plainly. “It's the difference between having a poor marriage and a great one.”

Joy smiled and looked to the table where both of her sisters sat, being served their dinner. “
Ja
, I'll have to tell my sisters that.”

“Oh
ne
.” Elizabeth pointed her small, frail finger Joy's direction. “My advice isn't for them. It's for you.”

Joy lifted the white rose to her nose and breathed it in. It had been in her hand all day and was starting to wilt, but the fragrance was still just as beautiful. “All right then. I'll tuck that in my mind for a later time.”

“And tuck this away too,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “The best time to practice forgiving is before one says
I do
.”

Joy nodded, wondering if the older woman had forgotten that she and Matthew were no longer together. Either that or Elizabeth's spirit sensed something Joy didn't. It was almost too much to hope for.

Thirty-Eight

Sometimes we must patiently endure before inheriting a promised blessing.

A
MISH PROVERB

T
he day after the wedding, Joy's family gathered around the dinner table, enjoying leftovers from the wedding. Tomorrow was Christmas, and like usual it would be a quiet and reverent time with only a few simple decorations that they'd set out in the morning. The weather was still warm, and snow was a distant reality, but they would have fun watching her new niece Emma opening the few presents they'd gotten her.

All day as Joy had helped to clean up the garden, she had told herself not to get her hopes up. The fact that Matthew wanted to talk to her didn't necessarily mean anything. For all she knew, he could be heading up to Indiana to his farm. And then what? Where would that leave her?

Her father scraped up the last of the food on his plate. Then there was a knock at the back door.

“Joy? Can you get that?”
Dat
asked.

She looked around the table. All eyes were on her. “Can't Grace get it?” Her eyes welled up with tears. She didn't know why she was crying. Perhaps because both hope and fear battled for first place inside her.

“Sweetheart, I think it's for you,”
Mem
stated plainly.

Joy stood, not knowing what to do. She took one step to the door and then paused. “I…I really don't want to talk to anyone now.” Still, she opened the door, urging her knees to hold her up.

Matthew stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking the other direction, toward the road, as if trying to decide whether he wanted to stay or go.

Joy went outside, closing the door and then the screen door silently. The moon and stars were bright overhead. Crickets chirped a lonely song. Matthew stood with his back to her, clearly deep in thought. Her chest swelled with emotion as she imagined walking up behind him, slipping her hands around his waist, and pulling herself close.

She took a step, and a loose board on the porch creaked. Matthew removed his hat and turned. Sweat ringed his shirt, and his damp hair clung to his forehead. He held his hat to his side with his left hand and extended his right hand to her.

She stood for a long moment and turned her attention to the sprinkler head dripping water onto the walkway and the small bird that pranced in the water as if wading through a pool. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked back to his hand.
This is goodbye.
Finally she turned her attention back to his gaze and waited for the words to come.

“Just because my
dat
is the bishop doesn't mean he's always right.”

“Excuse me?” Joy's eyes widened. That wasn't what she expected to hear.

“Even some of the apostles messed up and got things wrong.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, sure she wasn't hearing him right.

Pulling his hand back, Matthew took a small orange Bible
from his jacket pocket and flipped through it, stopping near the back of the book.

“I've been praying about this a lot. I've been asking God to search my own heart and to show me the many ways I've messed up.” He cleared his throat again. “I know God's book says we need to respect our parents. I understand it's one of the Ten Commandments—“Honor thy father and thy mother.” But does that mean we must do everything our parents say for the rest of their lives? Is there a difference between honoring them and obeying them? If our parents are ever in error with their thinking, is it all right to point it out?”

Joy clasped her hands in front of her and waited. She knew the questions weren't for her. Her throat tightened with emotion at seeing him, and she didn't dare hope that the words to come would bring him back to her. No, she couldn't hope that yet.

“I've been reading through Paul's letters, and last week I was reading the first chapter of Galatians. Paul had been traveling and preaching, telling people about Jesus, and after a while he decided to return to Jerusalem. Some of the apostles were still there, and after talking together they'd come to the conclusion that they all had the same ideas about Jesus. They were all sharing about Him—Peter and the others to Jews in Jerusalem, and Paul to the Gentiles in other countries. And Peter and his friends decided that what Paul was saying about Jesus was correct.

“The apostles gave Paul approval, yet Paul came across something that bothered him about Peter. Peter was fine eating with Gentiles, which God now allowed, but as soon as other Jewish Christians were around, he stopped and separated himself from them. This made Paul mad, and he confronted him. He basically told him he was wrong. This passage reminded me that even God's chosen men can be wrong at times. Even my
dat
.”

Hope swelled in Joy's heart as Matthew closed the Bible and put it back into his pocket. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying I think you did the right thing, helping with that show and all.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Well, first I read an article in the
Sarasota-Herald Tribune
where Alicia talked about how you pointed her to God and what a difference He has made in her life. Later that day I was talking to my friend Abraham. I had to apologize to him for something I did—for the way I treated him—but that's another story. Anyway, he said he went to lunch at Yoder's one day and one of the cameramen from the show approached him, just to talk, I guess. This man—Steven was his name—said you made a huge impact on his life too.”

“Me?”

“
Ja
. It seems he's been watching all the Amish, you especially, and he was impressed by your tender and quiet love. He says he's working with Alicia a lot, and he can tell she's a different person now. She has a peace and love he's never seen before. And he's happy to see her and Rowan getting back together. Steven also told Abraham he's been separated from his wife for over a year, and she's been keeping his kids from him.”

“Kids?” Joy gasped. “I didn't know he had kids.”

“
Ja.
And now he and his wife are going to see if they can make things work. She's coming down to Florida so they can talk things through.”

Tears filled Joy's eyes. She placed her hands over her mouth, holding in her soft cry.

Matthew reached over and touched her arm. His touch was tender. His caress was gentle. “I was so focused on sticking to the rules, Joy, that I missed the greatest rule of all—love God and
love your neighbor. I know it wasn't easy for you to follow your compassion, but I want you to know I understand now. I really understand. I asked God to forgive me. I'm hoping you will too.”

She wiped her tears with her fingertips and then wiped them on her apron. “Matthew, I…I don't know what to say.”

“Say you still care for me even though I'm a fool.”

She nodded. “There were times I was mad at myself for it, but,
ja
, I do. I really do.”

“
Gut.
” The word released with a heavy breath. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to smooth away the goose bumps. The air was warm out, but even greater was the warmth growing inside her chest.

Matthew took a step toward her, and Joy considered suggesting they go somewhere else, somewhere more private to talk, but then she changed her mind. She didn't want to break the moment.

“Even when I wasn't around you, you didn't leave me,” he said. “Your thoughts, your encouragement. I found myself in my workshop a lot.”

“Why?”

“It made me feel close to you. I made forty-five recipe boxes in three weeks.”

Joy's eyes widened, and laughter spilled out. “You did?”

“
Ja
, and a few gift shops in town are carrying them. They asked what else I can make.”

“And will you take them to Lovina's pie shop too?”

Matthew got a shy look on his face. “You don't think she'd be mad at me? I mean, all her competition is carrying them now.”

“I think she'll understand. Lovina isn't one to hold a grudge, even if you did break her little sister's heart.”

“I did?”

Joy looked down at her folded hands. “Well, we don't need to talk about that now. I'm just thankful we're talking again.”

As Matthew stepped closer, he tipped his head down and gazed into her eyes. There was tenderness there, love. She released the breath she was holding.
He still loves me.

“I was wrong, Joy. I listened to the wrong voices. I wish I could go back and make things right. I'm just hoping you'll give me a second chance. Will you forgive me?”

She bit her lip and turned away. She never expected to hear those words, and she wanted to savor the moment. Finally, she turned back to him, tears rimming her eyes. “Of course. But I have to know. You said you found yourself in your workshop because you thought of me there. Was that because I gave you the idea for the recipe boxes?”

“At first, but then it became more than that. As I worked with the wood, God used it to speak to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every piece of wood has a unique grain. Did you ever learn about tree circles in school?”

“
Ja
, of course.”

“One day I was sanding down a tree circle to be made into a stool for my youngest nephew, Micah, and I started paying close attention to the rings. Some were so thin, I'd almost guess the tree was close to death—that was a hard year. Then other circles were thick, and I wondered how a tree could grow so much all at once. As I sanded, something inside told me that was like marriage.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've seen many couples coming to talk to my
mem
and
dat
. I pretended I didn't know why they were there, but I could see it in their eyes—the pain, the questions, the weariness of it all. Times like that are like the thin rings of the tree. During the hard
months and years, a tree doesn't appear to be growing. It might even look like it's dying. But then I've seen those couples stick it out and come to places of love and growth. That's one thing
gut
about being Amish. Divorce is unacceptable. I think
Englisch
couples give up too quickly, and they miss their best years to come.”

She studied his face, his eyes, dreaming of spending every day for the rest of her life with him. “That's beautiful, Matthew.”

“And I think that's part of our courtship too, Joy. I've been watching you from afar for a long time. I was impressed then, but I have to say I'm even more impressed now. You listened to God and did what was hard. And at first I didn't agree.”

“Do you agree now?”

“I understand. Can we leave it at that?”

She offered him a shy grin. “
Ja.
”

“I just hope I haven't hurt you too badly. If you forgive me, I'd like to continue to court you. I still have hopes that you'll someday be my wife.”