It was with conflicting emotions that Jesse joined his family in the sitting room Sunday morning.
The chores were done, breakfast had been consumed, and now it was time for their Bible study. As he listened to his father read from the twelfth chapter of the book of Romans, Jesse stared down at his hands.
He would have been more comfortable if they’d had church service today.
Meeting this way, surrounded only by his family, seemed too personal. His feelings were raw, and he was still uncertain whether his brother’s return home was a good thing or a terrible thing. Moreover, his family was so happy, so relieved to have Andrew home, that he was becoming consumed by guilt over his attitude. Was he supposed to just trust his brother? Should he accept him back into their lives with open arms?
His father’s voice continued—low, solid, sure. Jesse had heard the scripture many times. Perhaps as a child, he’d even memorized Paul’s admonition to present your body as a living sacrifice, “holy and pleasing to God.” When he’d heard it before, he’d always thought back over the sins he committed. Those transgressions were minor, he supposed, in most people’s eyes, but actions that raked against his heart all the same.
A sharp word to one of his sisters.
Some chore he had completed hurriedly and in a sloppy fashion.
Impatience with his parents.
Bitterness toward his brother—that one always nagged at any sense of peace, unsettling his conscience. He could push it down for a few days, maybe even a week, but he could never forget the troubles his brother’s selfishness had caused their family. He realized now, as his father’s deep voice read from the German family Bible, that he had never forgiven Andrew.
His oldest sister, Susan, followed along in the Bible she’d received for her birthday. It contained German text on one side, English on the other.
“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.”
Almost against his will, Jesse’s gaze drifted up and locked with Andrew’s. What was his brother thinking and why had he come home?
Did he have a different gift? Was that why he had left?
He’d never actually asked his brother about his Englisch life when he saw him in Chicago. He’d been too busy trying to persuade him to come back to Middlebury, to the farm, to come back home—for good.
“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
He had not been faithful in prayer. He’d been too busy working, trying to take on the responsibilities for their household as he saw his parents age. He’d certainly not been joyful or patient. Jesse closed his eyes and bowed his head. He felt a sweet release as he handed his burdens over to the Lord. But he didn’t stop there; he petitioned God for his forgiveness and asked for patience that his new resolve to be more Christlike might last beyond their private family service.
His mother led them in singing “Burdens Are Lifted at Calvary.” It was an old hymn that Jesse had sung as far back as he could remember. He joined in. His younger sisters—even Teresa—were singing with gusto now. Teresa, in particular, was off-key. Somehow the sound was still sweet, the harmony coming from their relationship with each other rather than the notes.
A faint glimmer of hope sprang up in Jesse’s heart. Perhaps everything would work out after all.
Apparently Jesse’s mother had invited every family in their district to the celebration luncheon.
The buggies began arriving as Jesse and Andrew created tabletops under the trees. They placed planks of wood across sawhorses to hold the bounty of food—casseroles, shaved ham, cold fried chicken, and all types of sliced sausage and cheese. They created a second table that would normally suffice for a vegetable and dessert area, but today they would need more. Each family seemed to feel they should bring several dishes. Jesse’s mouth literally watered as the women placed the food on the makeshift tabletops and stepped away.
He couldn’t help but notice the smiles on their faces, the spring in the steps of his friends and family, the lightness in their voices. This was a day of celebration—for all of them.
How many had family members who had left to join the Englisch or the Mennonites? It was no longer an event that required shunning, at least not in their district and not if it happened before one had joined the church. Still, such incidents were a tremendous strain on the families involved—emotionally, financially, and of course spiritually.
“Andrew, it’s gut to see you. Glad to have you home.”
His brother was greeted by each person in this fashion, and each time the speaker turned to Jesse, clapped him on the back, and said, “Our Lord is gut. Ya?”
Jesse tried to find the anger that had consumed him the last few days, but it was gone. Perhaps his time of confession and prayer had worked. Maybe he was tired of fighting the fact that he was glad to see Andrew. He had missed his brother. Possibly the combination of divine intervention and his own exhaustion had pushed him past his own bitterness. He was glad his brother was home. Still worried but glad.
More guests made their way from the parking area near the barn, where Ben, Hannah’s older brother, was helping with unharnessing the buggies and pasturing the horses. Every direction he looked, family members were smiling at one another. Jesse realized that this day offered hope to those families who were going through similar situations. They saw Andrew, and in Andrew they recognized their own loved ones.
Perhaps one day they too would be a whole family again.
Few of the boys or girls Jesse knew actually left the church. Sometimes it would take a few years before they settled down. Occasionally someone might spend a year or two working at jobs that might not be offered within the community. Others spent their time away sampling what the Englisch had to offer—technology, education, a different life.
Jesse’s own rumspringa had been exceedingly short. For perhaps six months he had carried a cell phone, texting friends and even watching videos on it. Yes, he’d had the internet, which his father had never known about. At least, he didn’t say anything about it if he had known.
But soon the fullness of their lives called him. He would happen by his shelf in the barn, stop to check the mobile device, and find the phone uncharged. So he would set it aside with the intent of charging it when he went into town. And then he’d forget to carry it with him. One day he picked it up, and the device seemed like a child’s toy to him. So he’d thrown it into the trash pile and hadn’t thought about it since. Until today. That slight rebellion came back to him with startling clarity as he studied the crowd of folks surrounding his family and offering their blessings.
He had stepped away from their community, from their faith, just as Andrew had.
He simply hadn’t stepped as far.
Silence fell over those gathered as Bishop Joseph indicated it was time to bless the food. At that moment, Jesse spied Hannah. His pulse jumped, and he couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across his face. She blushed prettily, glanced at her feet, then closed her eyes in silent prayer.
Joseph pronounced a blessing over Andrew and the entire Miller family. Then he asked them to remember Naomi and confirmed what Jesse had heard several people saying—the funeral would be on Tuesday. Naomi would be accepting visitors to view the body at her home on Monday. Pausing a moment, as if to shift the direction of their thoughts, Joseph once again reminded them of the goodness of the Lord. With outstretched arms, he motioned toward the tables, indicating it was time to eat. Jesse’s father held up his hand to stop them and thanked everyone for coming. Then there was an orderly chaos as men and children flooded the tables where the women were serving.
Twenty minutes later, Hannah joined him at the old picnic table under the maple tree. “Lots of people came.”
“Ya, my bruder is quite the celebrity.” There was no bitterness in his heart, and he grinned at her as he uttered the words.
“I am.” Jesse shoveled a forkful of sliced, maple-glazed ham into his mouth.
“So you talked to Andrew?”
“Nein.”
Hannah studied him for a moment, her head cocked and a puzzled expression on her face. Then she shrugged and picked up a piece of fried chicken from her plate. “Maybe it’s just as well.”
“Maybe so.” Jesse glanced back toward the main group. He could barely make out his brother, laughing at something someone had said and then looking toward a table of girls. “Maybe all is well.”
And it was possible to believe it that afternoon.
So he spent his time resting, as he had been raised to do on the Sabbath.
Soon he was playing volleyball, Hannah on one side of him, Mary on the other. Mary hadn’t wanted to play. He’d heard her offer several excuses to Hannah, but once on the makeshift court, she produced a killer serve.
Andrew was on the other side of the net, with a mixed group of boys and girls. His brother seemed completely at ease, none of the anxiety from their Friday night discussion evident on his face.
Jesse enjoyed more food, another game of volleyball, and then a walk alone with Hannah.
The last of his barriers fell away as he clasped her hand and they walked slowly along the banks of the creek. He thought of asking her then, asking her to be his wife. But something told him the time wasn’t right. Soon. At the rate things were going, he would ask her to marry him very soon.