The Witness by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz (best fiction novels of all time .txt) 📖

Where All Such Troubles Go

From The Hearts Of Those Who Truly Love Each Other And Know There Never

Could Be Any One Else In The Universe Who Could Take The Place Of The

Beloved.

 

Courtland Had Been Preaching In The Church Of The Presence Of God For

Four Sabbaths Now,  And The Congregation Had Been Growing Steadily. There

Had Not Been Much Advertising. He Had Told A Few Friends In The

Factories Near By That There Was To Be Service. He Had Put Up A Notice

On The Door Saying That The Church Would Be Open For Worship Regularly

And Every One Was Welcome. He Did Not Wish To Force Anything. He Was

Following The Leading Of The Spirit. If God Really Meant This Work For

Him,  He Would Show Him.

 

Courtland's Preaching Was Not Of The Usual Cut-And-Dried Order Of The

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Young Theologue. His Theology Had Been Studied To Help Him To Understand

His God And His Bible,  Not To Give Him A Set Of Rules For Preaching. So

When He Stood Up In The Pulpit It Was Not To Follow Any Conventional

Order Of Service,  Or To Try To Imitate The Great Preachers He Had Heard,

But To Give The People Who Came Something That Would Help Them To Live

During The Week And Enable Them To Realize The Presence Of Christ In

Their Daily Lives.

 

The Men At The Seminary Got Wind Of It Somehow,  And Came Down By Twos

And Threes,  And Finally Dozens,  As They Could Get Away From Their Own

Preaching,  To See What The Dickens That Close-Mouthed Courtland Was

Doing,  And Went Away Thoughtful. It Was Not What They Had Expected Of

Their Brilliant Classmate,  Ministering To These Common Working-People

Right In The Neighborhood Where They Lived And Worked.

 

At First They Did Not Understand How He Came To Be In That Church,  And

Asked What Denomination It Was,  Anyway. Courtland Said He Really Didn't

Know What It Had Been,  But That He Hoped It Was The Denomination Of

Jesus Christ Now.

 

"But Whose Church Is It?" They Asked.

 

"Mine," He Said,  Simply.

 

Then They Turned To Pat For Explanation.

 

"That's Straight," Said Pat. "He Bought It."

 

"_Bought_ It! Oh!" They Were Silenced. Not One Of Them Could Have Bought

A Church,  And Wouldn't Have If They Could. They Would Have Bought A Good

Mansion For Themselves Against Their Retiring-Day. Few Of Them

Understood It. Only The Man Who Was Going To Darkest Africa To Work In

The Jungles,  And A Couple Who Were Bound,  One For The Leper Country,

And Another For China,  Had A Light Of Understanding In Their Eyes,  And

Gripped Courtland's Hand With Reverence And Ecstatic Awe.

 

"But,  Man Alive!" Lingered One,  Unwilling To Leave His Brilliant Friend

In Such A Hopeless Hole. "Don't You Realize If You Don't Hitch On To

Some Denomination,  Or Board Of Trustees,  Or Something,  Your Work Won't

Count In The Long Run? Who's To Carry On Your Work And Keep Up Your Name

And What You Have Done,  After You Are Gone? You're Foolish!" He Had Just

Received A Flattering Call To A City Church Himself,  And He Knew He Was

Not Half So Well Fitted For It As Courtland.

 

But Courtland Flung Up His Hat In A Boyish Way And Laughed. "I Should

Worry About My Name After I Am Gone," He Said. "And As For The Work,

It's For Me To Do,  Isn't It? Not For Me To Arrange For After I'm Dead.

If My Heavenly Father Wants It To Keep Up After I'm Gone He'll Manage To

Find A Way,  Won't He? My Job Is To Look After It While I'm Here. Perhaps

It Won't Be Needed Any Longer After I'm Gone. God Sent Me Here To Buy

His Church When It Was For Sale,  Didn't He? Well,  Then,  If It Is For

Sale Again He'll Find Somebody Else To Buy It,  Unless He Is Done With

It. The New Jerusalem May Be Here By That Time And We Won't Have To Have

Any Churches. God Himself Shall Be The Tabernacle! So You See I'm Just

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Have Money Enough To Keep The Wheels Moving."

 

They Went Away Then With Doubtful Looks,  And Courtland Heard One Say To

Another,  Shaking His Head In A Dubious Way:

 

"I Don't Like It. It's All Very Irregular!"

 

And The Other Replied: "Yes! It's A Pity About Him! He Might Have Done

Something Big If He Hadn't Been So Impractical!"

 

"The Poor Stews!" Said Pat,  Dryly,  Looking After Them. "They Haven't Got

Religion Enough To Carry Them Over Till Next Week,  The Most Of Them,  And

What They'll Do When They Really See What Kind The Lord Is I Can't

Guess! I Wonder What They Think That Rich Young Man That Jesus Loved

Would Have Been Like,  Anyway,  If He Hadn't Gone Away Sorrowful And Kept

His Vast Possessions. Cut It Out,  Pat! You're Letting The Devil In Again

And Getting Censorious! Just Shut Your Mouth And Saw Wood! They'll Find

Out Some Little Old Day In The Morning,  I Guess."

 

Courtland Wrote It All To Bonnie,  All The Happenings At Seminary And

Church,  What The Theologues Had Said About His Being Impractical And

Irregular,  And Bonnie,  With A Tender Smile,  Leaned Down And Kissed The

Words In The Letter,  And Murmured,  "Dear Impractical Beloved!" All

Softly To Herself.

 

For Bonnie Was Very Happy. The Possession Of Great Wealth That Would

Have To Be Spent In The Usual Way,  Surrounded By Social Distinction,

Attended By Functions And Society Duties,  Would Have Been An

Inexpressible Burden To Her. But Money To Be Used Without Limit In

Helping Other People Was A Miracle Of Joy. To Think That It Should Have

Come To Her!

 

Yet There Was Something Greater Than The Money And The New Interests

That Were Opening Up Before Her,  And That Was The Wonder Of The Man Who

Had Chosen Her To Be His Wife. That Such A Prince Among Men,  Such A

Friend Of God,  Should Have Passed By Others Of Rank,  Of Beauty And

Attainments Far Greater Than Hers,  And Come Away Out West To Take Her,

Fairly Overwhelmed Her With Wonder When She Had Time To Think About It.

For She Was As Busy As She Was Happy In These Days. There Was Her

School Work,  Her Music,  The Little Home Duties,  All She Could Make

Mother Marshall Leave For Her; The Beautiful Sewing She Was Doing On Her

Simple Bridal Garments; And Stealing Time From All To Write The Most

Wonderful Letters To The Insatiable Lover In The East.

 

Softly Bonnie Went Through These Days,  Tender,  Happy,  Blithe As A Bird;

A Song On Her Lips Whenever She Went About The House; A Caress In Her

Very Touch For The Dear Old People Who Had Been Father And Mother To Her

In Her Loneliness; Realizing Only Vaguely What It Was Going To Be To

Them When She Was Gone And They Were All Alone Again. For Her Heart Was

So Full Of Her Own Joy She Could Not Think A Sad Thought.

 

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Opening The Door Very Softly That She Might Come On Mother Marshall And

Surprise Her,  She Heard Voices In The Dining-Room,  And Paused To See If

There Was Company.

 

"It's Going To Be Mighty Hard To Have Bonnie Leave Us," Said Father

Marshall,  With A Wistful Quaver.

 

There Was A Soft Sigh Over By The Window,  Then Mother Marshall: "Yes,

Father,  But We Mustn't Think About It,  Or The Next Thing We Know We'll

Let Her See It. She's The Kind Of Girl That Would Turn Around And Say

She Couldn't Get Married,  Perhaps,  If She Got It In Her Head We Needed

Her. She's Got A Grand Man,  And I'm Just As Glad As I Can Be About

It"--There Was A Gulp Like A Sob Over By The Window.--"I Wouldn't Spoil

Her Happiness For Anything In The World!" The Voice Took On A Forced

Cheerfulness.

 

"Sure! We Wouldn't Want To Do That!"

 

"It's 'Most As Bad As When Stephen Was Going Away,  Though. I Have To

Just Shut My Eyes When I Go By Her Bedroom Door And Think About How We

Fixed It Up For Her And Counted On How She'd Look,  And All. I Just

Couldn't Stand It. I Had To Shut The Door And Hurry Down-Stairs."

 

"Well,  Now,  Mother,  You Mustn't Feel That Way. You Know The Lord Sent

Her First. Maybe He Has Some Other Plan."

 

"Oh,  I Know!" Said Mother,  Briskly. "I Guess We Can Leave That To Him;

Only Seems Like I Can't Bear To Think Of Anybody Else Coming To Be In

Her Room."

 

Yes,  From Paul! A Lovely,  Big,  Thick Letter!

 

Mother And Father Marshall And Their Sadness Suddenly Vanished From Her

Thoughts,  And She Hurried Back To A Big Stump In The Orchard,  Where She

Often Read Her Letters.

 

 

 

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     That You Must Have The Key To Them All Yet,  And I Must Wait

     Till You Come,  To Look Into Them.

 

     Then I Heard Sweet Sounds From The Church,  And,  Turning,  I

     Went In. Some One Was Playing The Organ,  High Up In The

     Dusky Shadows Of The Gallery,  And I Knew It Was You,  Bonnie

     Rose,  My Darling! So I Knelt In A Pew And Listened,  With The

     Presence Standing There Between Us. And As I Knelt Another

     Vision Came To Me,  A Vision Of The Past! I Remembered The

     Days When I Did Not Know God; When I Sneered And Argued And

     Did All I Could In My Young And Conceited Way Against Him. I

     Remembered,  Too,  The Time He Came To Me In My Illness And I

     Began