Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [10]
“Not in a million years,” Erlene said.
“Do what you want,” Lois said, “but I intend to come get the boys early that morning. You can ride along or not, but they ought to be at their own father’s funeral.”
Friday | Association of Rural Bible Churches
Thomas and Grace Carey held hands and beamed across the desk at ARBC Executive Director Jimmie Johnson.
“This is an answer to prayer,” Grace said. “A direct answer.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Johnson said. “Thomas, I’ve known of you and your work for years, and your references are exemplary. Let me show you just what we need and how this might work.”
He led them to a map on the wall of the adjoining conference room and pointed out five stick pins in an irregular circle that encompassed about 100 square miles. “We have a small work in each of these areas—the largest in Oldenburg comprising about ninety regular attendees; the smallest, right there in Colfax, down to about thirty now but with real potential. My thought is this: The larger work has its own building and even a parsonage, though I want to be frank. It’s old. It’s dilapidated. And it’s not much. But with the help of the congregation, I’m assured it can be made livable, and of course, it’s free.”
“We don’t require much,” Grace said.
“That would be your base of operations. From there I see you serving this and the other four churches. I know that’s spreading you mighty thin, and you’re going to have to be creative about scheduling a worship service for each church each week. Only one other of the congregations has its own building. Two others meet in homes and the fifth in a school.”
“Frankly,” Thomas said, “I’m eager to get started.”
Grace nodded. “He’s so good about meeting new people and getting them taught and motivated.”
“You understand you’re not going to get rich with this,” Mr. Johnson said, laughing. “Not one of these bodies can afford their own shepherd, so they know they’ll have to kick in and share. We can provide a small stipend, probably enough to cover your mileage is all, but you’ll have to work out with the individual congregations their share of your salary. We’ll help mediate if necessary, but that’s the best we can do.
“Now, would you like to pray about it?”
Thomas looked at Grace, wondering whether she would suggest they take a moment alone, maybe in the car. But she looked radiant, joyous. He could tell she truly believed this was of God, and he had a hard time doubting it himself. There was certainly nothing else on the horizon. Not one of the other churches he’d contacted had shown an iota of interest. And there was nothing he would rather do than invest his life in such work.
Thomas shrugged at her and cocked his head. She raised her brows and nodded.
“Sir,” he said, “we’re in.”
“That’s wonderful! Let’s go back to my office and turn on the speakerphone so I can inform someone at each church. And you can meet them by phone.”
Saturday | Lily of the Valley Church of the Holy Spirit
Brady wore a borrowed bolo tie and left his leather jacket in his aunt’s car. And he had found an old white shirt for Peter, though he seemed to swim in it. Even without a tie, he looked dressed up enough for Brady’s taste.
Brady felt the sea of eyes as he and his brother followed Aunt Lois and Uncle Carl to the front row. In some ways, this was just a bigger school bus, but open seats were waiting.
The boys had been in this church before, had even sat through a few Sunday school classes. Their uncle had pleaded with them to stay overnight and come again the next morning, but Brady had begged off. “I have to work tonight.”
Brady had never felt he really had a father. When his dad had lived with the family, he was worse than their mother was now. Brady had feared him, dreaded seeing him. And while it seemed strange when his father disappeared nearly eight years before, Brady was relieved. Sure, it was embarrassing when other kids talked