The Hidden Flame (47 page)

"There is great fear," the woman said. "There has been much talk. A number of our group have left Jerusalem. Many more talk of leaving. Stephen ... If they stay, will they be next? How can they protect their families?"

Abigail was not surprised by his message when Peter addressed the situation at evening prayer. "Brothers and sisters, we have been struck a crippling blow. One of our own, one whom we loved and deeply appreciated, has been cruelly taken from us. One who served his God and us with his whole heart. We miss him deeply.

"But let us not despair. Our Lord himself told us to expect to be hated even as he was hated. But we cannot let this distract us from our purpose. Our world still needs the Good News. Those who pose as our enemies still need the light. The light that can only come through Jesus Christ our Lord.

"The task is still before us and we must press on. We cannot let Satan defeat us because of fear. Our Lord would not want this. Stephen would not want this.

"Our brothers and sisters, may I remind you that Stephenour Stephen-not only showed us how to live, but how to die. He died with forgiveness on his lips. He died praising God. He was ushered into the very presence of our Savior. Do we begrudge him this blessing? Do we mourn that he has received his reward while we still labor? I think not. We grieve because of our great loss. But now we must strengthen our hands and lift up our voices and carry on the task we have been given to do. May God keep us faithful until such time as we meet our Messiah once again.

"Let us pray."

C H A P T E R

FORTY-ONE

ABIGAIL COULD SCARCELY BELIEVE that two months had already passed. Two long, difficult months. Time during which she had found a measure of comfort by keeping both her hands and her thoughts busy with the care of others. They had lost some fellow believers, but others had come to join them. The Word was still being preached. There were still those who, in spite of the growing unrest and persecution, quietly and with deep faith joined the followers.

There had been incidents meant to remind them that they were being watched. Yet there had also been more arrests and darker threats and cruel floggings. The religious authorities had no intention of letting the group continue unchallenged. When any possible reason for an offense could be generated, they took full advantage.

Word slowly trickled back from Cyprus, Cyrene, and even Antioch regarding those who had left the city in search of safety. The previous day a letter had arrived from Damascus and was read by James, the brother of the Lord-welcome news of growing groups of disciples in that area. Their members had not cowered in defeat when they had left Jerusalem, but immediately they began to share their faith in the new locations.

These days, Abigail found great consolation in the community of believers. She tried hard not to think upon Stephen's death. It always brought tears and questions for which she had no answers. How long did he suffer? was the heart cry that was the most difficult to put aside.

But today, as she sat in her room following prayer, she reflected on how their numbers had grown in a way they could not have if they had all remained in Jerusalem.

This time Abigail allowed herself to give silent voice to her deepest questions.

Was this why, Lord? Was Stephen the seed that, when planted in the ground, bore fruit? Did you use his death to scatter us for your purposes?

Certainly Stephen had been faithful. Abigail had heard the full account of his triumphant entrance into heaven in spite of the hail of stones. He had died victorious, welcomed by Christ himself. His prayer had been answered. He had not denied his Lord.

What better could one hope for? What more was there to life than victorious death? Over and over Abigail came back to these truths.

With these thoughts came release from the veil of fear and doubt that had wound itself around her, threatening to stifle her faith. And now, in this instant, she found herself able to release Stephen. She would not wish him back, not when he resided in a far greater place. Not even now, as she faced an uncertain future alone, surrounded by worrisome news and fearful times. She found peace in the assurance that they had both served as the Lord wished.

With tears of thanksgiving upon her cheeks, she thanked her Lord for relief of the dark despair that had threatened to consume her. There was reason to go on. And she had God's promise. And though she missed Stephen with all her heart, knowledge that the Lord was with her was enough.

My dear sister in Christ, Leah, Abigail mentally composed as she sorted produce for the day's distribution tables. Her silent musings had become somewhat of a habit. There was no way for her to communicate with Leah in reality, so Abigail expressed her thoughts, her feelings, in the only way she could. Silently. I have so much I wish to share with you, she mused on. God willing, one day we will be able to see one another face-to-face, but for now ...

Our work here carries on. There are so many who need our help at the tables. Women like you and me, but with no one else in the community to care for their needs.

I have a small room here again and no longer live in the little lean-to that I had shared with Jacob and then my dear husband. I still miss them both. But with the death of my beloved Stephen, a part of my heart was lost also. He was a wonderful man.

But God is good. He has given me such special friends and a peace that I cannot even describe. It carries me through each new day.

There are still many dangers, but in a strange way, I no longer carry that intense fear. I have already lost what was dearest to me. What more can they take? Besides, they are much less threatening to women and children. It is our leaders who are in the most danger A young rabbi by the name of Saul seems to be our greatest threat.

But I do have something that I long to tell you. It-

"Abigail." A young girl suddenly appeared in the doorway, breathless. "There is someone to see you. You are to come now."

Abigail straightened and rubbed her hands against the towel at her waist. Who would be looking for her?

When she entered the courtyard, she stopped midstep, not expecting to see someone from her recent past. That world of yesterday seemed so far away. So disconnected from her life now.

Linux was seated on a shaded bench, a cup in his hand. Someone must have already served him. He rose and moved a step toward her.

She could not have put her feelings into words. She did not understand them herself. Here stood a man who had attracted yet repelled her-at the same time. She had feared him-then had come to trust him enough to search for him at the time of her deepest need. He had been an enemy-and the most loyal of friends. An outsider-and now a fellow believer. Most of all, he had been someone that her dear Stephen had taught, had led into the faith. For that reason alone, Linux would always have a place in her heart.

Abigail could feel the blood rush from her face, her heart pick up a more rapid beat. She feared she would not be able to speak.

"Linux," she managed to say.

"Abigail," he said with a nod. She thought his eyes appeared as haunted as her own must be. For a brief time neither of them moved. Linux was the first to recover. He stepped forward and motioned to the bench. "Please, take a seat here in the shade."

She walked to the bench. When she had been seated and had recovered her breath, she was able to ask, "When did you come?"

"I just arrived back in Jerusalem. I came straight here. I have word for you from Alban and Leah."

He withdrew a letter from inside his tunic. Leah accepted it with shaking hand. She would need to find someone to read it to her. She sat and stared at the parchment, caressing it gently. She blinked determinedly at tears. She would not weep. She had spent far too much time over the past two months in tears. She would not shed them now.

Linux waited patiently.

At length she was able to lift her head and turn to him.

"How are they?"

He gave a slight smile. "They are well. Jacob is helping Alban with the caravans. They travel north mostly, or in the area. It is still not safe...." He let those words drop. "You should see their little one. A strong, healthy boy. They named him Gabriel. But I'm sure she will have told you all about him in the letter. Alban is strutting like a rooster. And the little one already adores Alban and smiles each time. . . "

Abigail had lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I am thoughtlessly rambling on when-"

"No-it's fine." She lifted her head. "It is so good to hear news of them. I have missed them all so much."

He nodded.

"And Leah?" she questioned.

He spoke more quietly this time. "Leah sends her love. She is well-and busy. She meets with the local women for study of Scripture and prayer. She . . ." He paused, then said, "She misses you. Is so sorry that she was not here when you needed her. She begs you to join them. I believe she thinks of you as her younger sister," he finished somewhat lamely. "She wants you to come back with me, to Galilee."

Abigail felt her heart constrict.

"And I cannot," she said, though the words seemed to tear at her heart.

"But-"

"I cannot. I wish so much to see her. And of course my dear Jacob. But I cannot go. I am needed here." She waved her hand toward the tables at the far side of the compound, busy now with servers and receivers. "There is so much-"

"Surely someone else can take your place."

Abigail straightened. "Perhaps. Perhaps I am not as necessary to running the distribution center as I tell myself. But it is more than that. I belong here. With my people. Serving my Lord. I would feel ... I would feel like a deserter should I leave. Do you ..." She turned to look directly at him. "Can you understand that?"

Linux nodded. "I can indeed."

"And Martha, she needs me. She has not been well. I fear if I were not here to help Mary care for her . . ." She let the thought drop.

Again they sat in silence. There seemed to be so much to say, and yet so little that could be said.

"That is your answer, then?"

"It must be. I have every reason to remain here."

"I understand." She didn't think he truly did, but that would have to be.

He stood. "I will return to Galilee in three days. If you wish to send a letter ..."

"Oh-yes, I do." Abigail too was on her feet. She had so longed to write Leah all of the feelings of her heart. Somehow she would find someone who could put all of those thoughts in writing. One of the young Greek widows, perhaps. They are schooled. Her hurried thoughts ran on, but Linux was speaking.

"It has been good to see you again, Abigail. I have thought much of you-of your sorrow."

She nodded her gratitude.

"Stephen was a good man. A good teacher and a better friend. I shall always think of him with deep appreciation."

Abigail could not respond. She merely nodded once more.

Linux looked at her for a long moment, nodded at her, and turned to go.

Abigail stood and watched him as he walked from the courtyard. At the entrance he turned once more and lifted his hand. She raised hers in return. Then he was gone.

It was several minutes before Abigail could rouse herself enough to return to the storage area and her task. Her thoughts led her in many directions. She had just turned down an opportunity that would have taken her to Leah-yet in spite of her longing, her heart was at peace. She did indeed belong here. Here where she was needed. Here where she could serve. Here with her own people.

She entered the shed, its stifling heat nearly overcoming her, and bent once again to the routine of dividing up food portions. Even as she did, her mind went back to the letter she had been mentally composing to her dear friend. The letter that soon would be put on papyrus and delivered. Her hand went inside her robe to where Leah's letter was tucked. As soon as her responsibilities were completed, she would search out a friend who could read it to her. It was all she could do to wait.

I had to say no, Leah, her private message went on. I do hope you will understand. I wanted so much to come. To see you-and meet your new son. But I could not. All of the reasons that I gave to Linux, our friend, were true. But I did not tell him the most important reason why I must stay here, among my people. You see, I have just made a discovery that has changed my world. It has been both so sorrowful and so joyous that at first I struggled. Now I feel nothing but intense wonder. Intense happiness. I can hardly believe it to be true. But it is. It is. And I am so happy. I cannot wait for the days to pass. My whole life has taken on new meaning. New excitement. With every waking hour I have longed to share it with you. And now the opportunity has come so I can.