Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (motivational books for students TXT) 📖

Phoebe was praying when she heard a light knock on her door.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Speer said kindly when Phoebe opened it. "I know you've had a difficult week and you've only just returned yesterday, so I was just stopping by to see if you were up to giving the sermon this morning."

Phoebe looked at her watch. "I'm sorry. I guess I lost track of time during my morning prayers. I'll be right over."

"You take your time, dear. Thomas and I will greet for you this morning. You just come along when you are ready." Mrs. Speer reached out and squeezed Phoebe's hand before leaving.

Phoebe sat again at her Bible and picked up her notes for the morning's service. It was a solid sermon, she was certain, but her heart just wasn't in it. So much had happened in the past eight days, and she couldn't seem to settle back into her old schedule. Everything felt different. She felt different.

It was several minutes before Phoebe entered the church. Mrs. Speer had already begun to lead the congregation in "How Great Thou Art." It had been the hymn played at Wendell's funeral and Phoebe had to pause in order to control her emotions.

She opened the door, but her way was blocked by a few men. They parted for her to enter, and when they did, Phoebe gasped. From where she stood, she could see that every pew was full, and men were lining the back and sides of the church. There were well over a hundred people in attendance – the most she had ever seen in the tiny building.

Phoebe carefully navigated her way to her chair on the platform. From this vantage point she could see the entire congregation. Mrs. Smith was in her usual spot. Phoebe had feared that without Wendell's bribery, Tommy and Lester would have deserted the boarding house matron this morning. However, to Phoebe's great surprise, not only were those boys sitting next to her, it appeared as if all of the boys from the house were in attendance.

She looked around at all the faces. Some she knew, others were strangers, but all had one thing in common. They carried a sadness with them – it was evident in the furrowed brows, the slumped shoulders. This is why she'd had difficulty concentrating on her sermon, she realized; God didn't intend for her to preach it today. The people weren't there for a normal Sunday morning lesson. They'd come looking for solace, for peace, for understanding. They were here for a memorial service.

Phoebe thought back to how nervous she had been to participate in Wendell's funeral in Lansing, and she only had to share a scripture and say a small prayer before her father's message. That was nerve-racking for her, but for some reason, she felt no anxiety now. Even as she approached the pulpit, completely unprepared for what she was about to do, she was at total peace. Then she realized, as the sun broke through the clouds and a ray of sun shone through those tall glass windows, why she wasn't afraid or concerned in this moment. These were her people, and she was their pastor. And God was in control of this service.

Just as Phoebe was about to speak, the door opened, and a very late and obviously abashed Will entered. Phoebe watched his face as he looked around the room. He looked at her wide-eyed, questioning, but when she smiled at him, realization of what was happening must have set in and a slow, somber smile spread across his face, as well.

Phoebe opened her Bible to John 11 and read aloud the first half of the account of Jesus' resurrection of Lazarus from the dead.

"I feel now, more than ever in my life, I understand the grief that Martha was experiencing. She had just lost her beloved brother and she wanted desperately for Jesus to do something about it." Phoebe looked around the room. "I have felt this way as well. Oh, how I wish I could have Wendell back, even for a few moments, just to let him know what he meant to me. But I don't believe that I am the only one in this room to feel this way. Wendell was a special person that meant a lot to so many people, which is apparent by the number of you who have shown up today to honor him.

"I think it is only fitting that we take a few moments this morning to allow anyone who would like to come forward to say a few words about our friend, Wendell Jackson."

Phoebe sat down, not knowing if anyone would accept the invitation. She didn't have to wonder for long, though, as Russell Weaver, a fellow miner, wasted no time walking to the podium.

"Wendell was the first person to believe in me," the tall miner said, his large hands shaking as he spoke. "I have spent most of my life being told that I would never amount to anything, and I guess, well, I guess I believed it too. But, one night, I came back to the boardin' house from a night of gamblin' and drinkin' – sorry pastor," he said nervously, looking at Phoebe quickly then turning back to the congregation. "I came in all drunk and Wendell was waiting for me. I don't know why, he just was. Anyway, he says to me, 'Russ, why do you keep doin' this to yourself? Don't you know God has a better plan for ya?' He went on to tell me that I could be a better man. He said that I could be a better husband and a better father than my own pa, and that I didn't have to follow in his footsteps. You could have knocked me over with a feather, 'cause I never told Wendell anything about my pa – and he didn't know anything about Emily and the baby yet. That was God speakin' through him, that's what that was. I knew Wendell had somethin' special, and I wanted it, too. If Wendell had never been my friend, I never would have talked with Pastor Albright and I never would have accepted Jesus, and I never would have made things right with Emily. My life is changed because of Wendell, and I wish I would have told him before…" Russell's voice trailed off. He stood there for a moment, shook his head, left the podium, and sat back down next to his new wife, tears falling down his cheeks.

Russell's speech started a flood of other men's testimonies. One by one, miners of all ages and backgrounds came forward to share stories – some humorous, some heart-wrenching – of how Wendell Jackson had touched their lives. The sharing went on for over an hour, and there wasn't a dry eye in the church.

When the speeches ended, and all hearts appeared to be clear, Phoebe walked to the pulpit again. She looked at her watch and frowned. The sharing had been such a good time of healing for all those hurting, but there was still so much to say. She worried that the congregation would get restless if the service went much longer, but her thoughts were interrupted by a voice in the back.

"Go on, Pastor. You got a message for us that we need to hear. Ain't none of us goin' nowhere."