The Measure of a Heart (15 page)

Tears spilled over and ran down Anna’s cheeks. She did not lift her hand to brush them away.

“It . . . seems like rather a miracle,” Austin said quietly,
“when you put it that way.”

“And if God can perform one miracle,” went on Anna,
“what’s stopping Him from bringing us another?”

Austin swallowed. Anna could sense his inner struggle. She knew the condition of the old building. It certainly didn’t match the church of Austin’s dreams. His plans. She knew that the building fund held only sixteen dollars. And she also knew that they were going to need a great deal of money—of faith—of acceptance—if that building was ever to make a church. She knew the miracle Austin had been praying for was a little “larger”—a cleaner, better, more acceptable miracle than the one that had just presented itself. She held her breath and offered up a quick prayer. She really couldn’t blame Austin if he refused to recognize . . .

But he held out his arms to her and Anna quickly moved toward him.

“Oh, Anna,” he said into her hair. She could hear tears in his voice.

They wept as they clung together. They would accept what God had offered, knowing that it could and would work for good. It was so exciting to be a part of God’s plan. They wondered where the next miracle would come from.

Chapter Twelve

Building

On the following Sunday, Pastor Barker announced to his little flock that they had been presented with a deed for the property on Main Street.

The response varied from smiles to groans.

“I know it will take a lot of work,” he said brightly, trying to project as much enthusiasm as he could.

“The work we might handle,” spoke up Mr. Page. “But what about the material?”

For a brief moment Austin looked to Anna. She gave him a wee smile and a slight nod in encouragement.

“I don’t have the answers,” the pastor admitted. “All I know is that God miraculously has brought us a building. He knows what is needed better than we do. So, I expect that He’ll provide.”

“Amen,” said someone from the back of the schoolroom, and there were answering “Amens.”

“Have you looked it over?” asked Mr. Brady.

“No,” admitted Austin. “I thought that the board should make an inspection together.”

Anna wondered if Austin needed moral support when he assessed the property. One man alone might stagger with the enormity of the task.

“Well, I guess we best get to it,” said Mr. Brady. “You fellows free tomorrow afternoon?”

There were nods from the other two members of the board.

“That all right with you, Pastor?” asked Mr. Brady, and Austin nodded in agreement.

“About three o’clock then,” said Mr. Brady, the board chairman, and the unofficial meeting was considered dismissed.

It was even worse than they had guessed. Anna could read it in Austin’s face when he returned from the tour of assessment.

“It’s pretty bad, eh?” she offered.

Austin nodded without speaking.

Anna poured him a cup of weak coffee.

“Is there a starting place?” she prompted.

“Fellows don’t even know where to start. The logical place, of course, is the roof. No use doing anything else until the roof is fixed. But the roof is going to be one of the most costly projects. I don’t know where we’ll ever find the money.”

Anna waited until he had taken a couple sips of the coffee.

“You don’t suppose the community would help?” she asked quietly.

Austin shook his head. “We haven’t managed to stir up much interest in the community,” he reminded her.

“Well, maybe this is a good way to do it. When they see that we are serious—just as you said—then maybe they will . . . well . . . back us.”

Austin took another sip of coffee. “I don’t know, Anna,” he said. “Sometimes it is terribly discouraging.”

Anna reached out to pat his hand.

“It is discouraging,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

“We’ve been here over a year. We have gained two families . . . and no converts,” Austin commented, sounding very soul-weary.

She sat down beside him at the table and pulled a small delicate plant toward them.

“Look at this,” she said, her voice compelling. “Mrs. Paxton brought me one of her violets. Little Pink Bonnet.” Anna smiled. “She named this one herself.”

Anna reached out a finger to trace around a delicate flower.

“Now, you might just see a violet here,” Anna went on. “A beautiful little violet. But I see a miracle. Another miracle. Mrs. Paxton is gradually opening up, Austin. Gradually letting herself ‘feel’ again after all those years of bitterness and pain.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to win her to faith in Jesus, but I do know that God has put her in my life for a reason. And that in itself is a miracle. The fact that one person, any person, is here on this earth at just the right time to reach out to another. To be that link—that special someone to somehow give one more opportunity to make things right with the Savior—that is a miracle. Only God could arrange that.

“And if God cares that much for old Mrs. Paxton with all her quirks and doubts and angry feelings, then how do we know how many other hearts He is working in—right now—through little things. Words. Actions. Even a rickety old building. Maybe it is just what we need to challenge our little congregation. To bring us together. To make this town and community realize that we are for real. That we are serious about our faith.”

Anna didn’t know if she had said too much. If she had said enough. But Austin reached out to put an arm around her shoulder.

“So where does your next miracle come from, my Little Encourager?” he asked her.

“I have no idea,” replied Anna. “But it will be exciting to see it come.”

“Hear you got that old building of Mrs. Paxton’s,” Mr. Parks said to Anna the next time she was in the store.

She nodded, remembering his words about the condition of the building and the eyesore it was to the town.

“Mighty glad to hear that,” he continued. “It will help the whole town to have that mess cleaned up.”

Anna nodded, but her face became serious.

“I wish I could say that we’ll soon have it cared for,” she said evenly, “but I’m afraid it won’t look much different for some while yet.”

Mr. Park’s expression grew serious.

“We’d like to fix it, of course,” Anna quickly went on, “but as yet we don’t have the money. My husband says there isn’t much use starting until the roof is fixed, and that will be a costly item for such a small congregation.”

“You don’t have the workers?”

“Oh, our men are quite willing to give of their time. It’s the money for the materials that we can’t yet afford.”

“So what do you plan to do?” asked the grocer.

Anna smiled. “Wait,” she said with confidence. “Wait for another miracle.”

“A miracle might take years,” responded the storekeeper dourly.

“Perhaps,” said Anna.

“But the town needs the building fixed now.”

“Yes,” Anna replied sweetly. “Now is when we’d like to have our church, too. But God will care for it—in His own time—in His own way.”

Three days later there was a knock on the parsonage door. Austin was busy preparing his Sunday sermon, so Anna answered. To her surprise Mr. Parks and the town banker stood on her step.

“May we come in?” the storekeeper asked, a little smile playing about his lips.

“Of course,” invited Anna. “Please sit down. May I get you a cup of coffee?”

“No, no, we won’t be staying long.”

Austin came from his books at the sound of the voices. He greeted the men and repeated Anna’s invitation, but Mr. Parks waved aside his offer.

“We had a special meeting of the town council last night,” he explained. “That old store has been a concern of all the businessmen for years. We are anxious to have it fixed up. We decided that if it was the roof that was holding things up, we’d best do something about it.”

He stopped to clear his throat and smiled more broadly.

“We aren’t too good on waiting on God’s miracles,” he said with a nod toward Anna. “So we decided that we’d better take some action on our own.”

He looked directly at Austin. “Your wife said that you have men who’ll do the work—if the materials are provided. That right?”

Austin nodded.

“Well, we town businessmen have each put some money in the pot to cover the cost of materials. Once it’s fixed up on the outside, we don’t much care what you do on the inside.”

Anna heard Austin take a deep breath.

“When can you start?” the banker was asking.

“I’ll call a meeting just as soon as I can get out the word,” responded Austin.

The banker nodded. “Come see me as soon as you make your arrangements. The money is on deposit at my bank.”

Austin nodded again. Anna fought against the impulse to run to his side.

Mr. Parks stepped back. His face held a wide grin now. He made as though to replace his hat, and Anna knew he was preparing for departure.

“So you see, Mrs. Barker,” he said, his eyes full on Anna’s flushed face, “I guess we won’t be needin’ to stand around and wait on your God for that miracle, after all.”

“No. No,” said Anna, her hand going up to her warm cheek. “We won’t have to wait. He’s already performed it!”

For one moment Mr. Parks looked taken aback—and then his surprise turned to a chuckle. It seemed that the joke was on him.

Anna’s garden had been hard work, but it was worth it. The vegetables were doing nicely. Already they had enjoyed radishes, lettuce, beet greens, early onions, and a first picking of peas. Anna could hardly wait until the beans were ready—and then the turnips, carrots, and new potatoes. Each time she hoed she could taste the goodness still ahead.

As the summer wore on the work became more difficult and tiring.

“You shouldn’t be in the sun,” Mrs. Paxton scolded, but Anna smiled and assured her that she was fine.

“Your man should be doing the hoeing,” insisted Mrs. Paxton.

Anna thought of Austin. Every minute he could spare was spent in working on the church building.

“The pastor is anxious to get the building rain-proofed,” Anna reminded her neighbor.

Mrs. Paxton only nodded. She had been keeping a close eye on the progress down the street.