“Mamma’s been singing ‘Praise the Savior’ for the last half hour. And have you noticed, she acts like – well – like she’s extra pleased about something,” Mary Jane observed to Ellen as the two set the supper table.
“Come to think of it, you’re right. I wonder what it is?”
The family was called to the table just then. After the blessing was asked, Daddy smiled at Mamma and remarked, “Well, out with it, Mom. You’ve been actin’ like somethin’ was about to bust out. Or is it a secret?”
Mamma flushed as she beamed. “No, no secret. It’s good news, though. Helen French says to get the water tank ready Saturday – that she really is going to be baptized, no matter what Joe says. I just feel sure the Lord will undertake and preserve her from his wrath. There! Now isn’t that good news? I’ve just been praising the Lord ever since she told me at our reading time today!”
“Well! Now that is good news! I’ve felt for a long time she’d ought to call his bluff on that. Anyways, when the Lord says to do something, He expects you to trust Him fer workin’ out the details. And furthermore, when a feller refuses to live up to what light he’s been given, he loses ground and pro-gresses backwards instead of forewards.” Daddy contemplated a few moments, obviously pleased. “Yep! I’ll call in to Frank after supper and we’ll get it done afore she loses her nerve.”
Arrangements were made and everything appeared to be going smoothly. Early afternoon Saturday was the time set, and an eleven o’clock lunch was planned to clear the stove for use. Twelve-thirty found every available container, including the wash boiler, full of water and heating to boiling. A large pot was even placed on the pot-belly stove in the dining room. The water that came from the well was mighty chilly. Many prayers had ascended for Mrs. French, but as the time drew near, Mamma nervously looked to the east for her beloved Helen’s appearance. Her earlier faith was flickering. If only she could pray with Helen now! But the pall of discouragement seemed to deepen. Just then the telephone rang. About three persons leaped to get it, but Mamma was the quickest.
“Oh, yes, Helen! We’re all ready. Shall Ned come and pick you up? But – but – oh, Helen! Don’t you think –?”
The voice on the other end of the line was tense and full of emotion.
“I can’t – Oh, I can’t go through with it! Joe will kill me! And what would become of my children! Oh, Eva, forgive me! You don’t know Joe!” And heavy sobs were relayed over the wire.
“Remember, Helen, we committed that all to the Lord? He’s able, I’m sure, to stay Joe’s hand. I know, oh I know, the Lord would honor you for it! He says, ‘Him that honoreth Me, I will honor.’ You know that!” But dear Mamma heard the same dismal answer. “You don’t know Joe! I can’t! You don’t have to live with him!”
So it was that instead of a baptism – a triumph of faith – a sad little group read a few scriptures and prayed for their weaker sister in Christ across the lane. They prayed also for Joe, that he might somehow be reached with the gospel, that his hard heart might be melted and be born again.
Mamma’s head was bowed and many a hot tear had to be wiped away. She vowed to resist any attempt of the enemy to discourage their Bible readings. Helen would be sensitive and feel that surely her disappointed brethren in Christ would be offended and want to cut her off. She must not be allowed to feel this way. When Mr. Hillman firmly remarked that he was sure Helen would lose ground in her soul’s growth, it was like a knife piercing Mamma’s own heart.
“Isn’t there a scripture – ‘but of some making a difference.’? After all, the Lord knows all about it. If only Joe would get saved!”
Daddy tried to soften his remarks, but it was plain to Mamma that his hopes were dim. Her own faith was never at lower ebb.
“By the way, folks, I nearly forgot to tell you the news! Frank told me brother and sister Bowman is due in fer a visit. That ought to cheer you up! There, there now, Mom. Let’s lift up the hands that are hangin’ down and we’ll jest keep a prayin’. A week from this Lord’s Day they’ll be here and likely we’ll have some extra meetings. Maybe even old Joel decide to come!”
Everyone was noticeably cheered at the prospect of the Bowmans’ visit. Mary Jane’s feelings were mixed. Right now the mixture was heavy on the blue ingredient. She was examining with the inward look. Discouraged with what she saw, she considered why she wasn’t happier in the Lord. And predestination! That subject always frightened her and kept coming up lately. “Maybe”, she secretly worried, “Maybe I feel this way because it’s a ‘certain fearful looking for judgment’ because I’m not one of the chosen ones. But Jennie says that can’t be me. Well, I hope somehow I can get straightened out. The Lord really seemed to promise to perform His Word unto me and Lori says having started the work, He’ll complete it.”
That night as the wind sighed and moaned around the eaves, Mamma sighed with it. So did Mary Jane. But long after the big round moon smiled into their sleeping faces, poor Helen French tossed and wept. She hated herself. And yet as she looked at the sleeping figure beside her, cruel lines apparent even in repose, in agony she cried out, “ ‘Lord, I believe! Help Thou my unbelief,’ and please save Joe!”
At last an assurance of the Lord’s having heard her request possessed her, and she too drifted into restful sleep.