Love Still Stands Read Online Free PDF Page B

around. No one seemed to notice. Micah lumbered
     toward the kitchen door. “This is an important decision you make today. I trust that
     you have prayed over it and meditated over it.”
    He stood then in the doorway as each man and woman filed past and whispered a name
     to him. Deacon Altman stood at his side, scribbling names on a piece of paper with
     a stubby pencil. Luke had prayed long and hard the previous evening, aware of Leah’s
     furtive glances. She hadn’t said so, but he knew. She didn’t want it to be him. She’d
     done her own praying, silently, but somehow he found a sort of accusation in her bowed
     head. He understood. He didn’t want it to be him either, but if it were God’s will
     that he take up this burden, he would do so. He fervently hoped God gave the lot to
     another man.
    At the door he leaned in and looked into Micah’s face for one brief second, then whispered
     the name he’d chosen. It hadn’t been difficult. Thomas was the wisest man in their
     group, the most even-keeled. He would handle matters of discipline, the Ordnung , and the community’s spiritual life with fairness and honest supplication before
     God. He would make a fine bishop. Micah inclined his head. Luke moved on.
    With such a small district, the voting didn’t take long. Micah and Deacon Altman returned
     to their place in front of the rows of benches arranged in the living room. Without
     further discussion, Micah perused the names. “This is an unusual situation,” he noted.
     “We must choose our minister and our deacon as well. All of you will be new to your
     duties. But as this is what the situation requires, so be it. The chosen must take
     up this yoke before God with the greatest commitment to this new community. You will
     bear the brunt of the decisions that must be made in order for this community to survive
     and to thrive. Come into the kitchen when your name is called.”
    He strode once again toward the kitchen where he paused in the doorway and without
     looking at the paper, began calling out the names. “Luke Shirack.”
    Luke sucked in air and stood, glad that he’d been spared the reading of the list.
     Better to get it over with than experience that sense of relief over and over as each
     name was called, only to have his be the last on the list. Some of the women cried.
     The seriousness of this moment was lost on none of them. The man who emerged from
     that kitchen as their bishop would also be their spiritual leader. Leah’s face had
     gone white. He saw no trace of pride that his had been among the names their friends
     and family had nominated to lead the community. As well it should be. Pride served
     no one. Still, she shouldn’t look so stricken either. If he were chosen, so be it.
     Gott’s will. She knew that. She would adjust to the additional duties as did every
     other fraa whose husband served.
    Their gazes met. Hers dropped. Then she turned and shushed Esther, who was giggling
     over a piece of paper and crayon she held in her chubby hands. Bethel pulled the little
     girl into her lap and gave her a cookie. The girl subsided. Leah didn’t look back
     in his direction. He ducked past Micah and entered the kitchen, but his wife’s face
     wouldn’t fade from his mind’s eye. She suffered, but he couldn’t fathom why or how.
     She wouldn’t tell him and her silence accused him night and day.
    “Thomas Brennaman.” The calling of the names continued.
    Forcing himself to let Leah’s image go, Luke studied the row of Ausbands arranged on the table. Five of them. One of the hymnals held the slip of paper that
     would determine how the one chosen by lot would spend his remaining days. The designation
     of a bishop was for life…or for as long as the man could perform the duties of disciplining
     wayward members of the community—baptizing, performing marriages, and seeing to it
     that the community clung to the Ordnung.
    He stood firm, arms crossed, waiting. Come