The Miting (39 page)

Leah knew that her parents and the bishop thought not only of her past behavior but how she might influence her brother and sister in the future. In the eyes of the church, Leah had been rebellious—and this rebellion could have dire consequences if it led her siblings down the same path. And that path would lead to hell. She tried very hard to see this whole situation from their point of view.

Maybe if I can understand their motivation, I can better endure this season of punishment.

But deep in her heart, she wondered how anyone could be so harsh to someone they loved.

On Saturday afternoon, Jacob finally came in the shop. From her experiences with others who had come to the house over the past few days, she knew better than to rush to greet him, but it didn’t stop her from smiling at him when
Daet
wasn’t looking. When Jacob retuned her smile, Leah’s heart soared. He chatted with her as though nothing had changed.
Daet
watched them, and Leah sent sidelong glimpses at
Daet
, too. She couldn’t decide if he was happy to see Jacob’s acceptance of her or worried that their relationship had not changed.

Finally,
Daet
’s lips tilted ever so slightly upward and he hurried to the door. “I’m heading in for lunch. You two keep each other company.”

Leah broke off her conversation with Jacob, a slow grin spreading over her face. Eyebrows raised, she turned astonished eyes to Jacob.

Jacob came to sit on the tall stool by the counter with his lunch bag. He snorted when she told him she was surprised
Daet
left them alone together.

“Your
Daet
’s hoping I can convince you to renounce your new faith during the church service tomorrow.”

Her smile froze. “What?”

Jacob shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with your faith, Leah, but I know what the bishop wants and what your parents and the elders want. They hope your, um … attraction for me will convince you to give up your sinful notions about being born again.”

“Who’s saying these things to you?” she demanded.

“Oh, everybody, I guess.” Jacob’s brown eyes were soft and free of any kind of judgment. It was emotional for Leah to hear what was expected of him.

“I’m sorry, Jacob.” She shook her head in confusion and shame. “I never thought things would get this bad.”

“I know. It’s our church. They’re pretty strict. When you left, I snuck away a few times to other churches.”

Leah’s eyebrows rose. “You did?”

“Yep. I found out not all Amish are this strict. If we switch to New Order Amish, we can even have Bible studies and visit with
Englishers.
It’s a better way to live and still be Amish.”

“You said ‘we’—you mean you and me?”

He grinned. “I was always hoping you thought pretty
gut
of me, you know, Leah.” He watched her face closely. She couldn’t keep the look of surprise and love from her eyes. He chuckled. “I was hoping you’d look this happy.”

Feeling hope bloom for the first time in days, Leah couldn’t keep the joy from her voice. “Jacob, after all that’s happened, I never thought we’d still—well—that you’d still want to be with me.”

“I think you know how I feel about you, Leah. It’s been no secret to anyone else. Love doesn’t stop because someone has new ideas.”

She got up and walked to his side. She touched his sleeve gently. “Jacob, I think I’ll never find anyone more understanding than you, but I want you to be sure.”

He gave her a hurried hug. It was quick and not very tight, but his reaction spoke volumes to her heart.

“I don’t care where we have to move in order for you to be able to keep your new salvation, Leah, but I do know I can’t live my life without you in it.” He shook his head. “I learned that the hard way.”

A weight that had bowed her low for months lifted from Leah’s heart. “Jacob, I hope you’ll never be sorry you chose me.”

“Never.” His voice was sincere and sure.

Leah wanted so much to kiss him then and there, and she thought he felt the same way, but they both knew it would be a risk if
Daet
caught them. So they put some space between themselves and sat down to eat lunch.

The twinkle in Jacob’s eyes as they chatted and laughed, catching up on each other’s lives, warmed her weary soul. It made all the difference to know she had someone who loved her and trusted her.

Jacob gave her tips on what to say in order to be convincing to the congregation, elders, and bishop with her confession the next day. Knowing when Jacob and she married, he planned to move to a less strict church district gave Leah the push she needed to try harder to please the bishop and her parents. She hoped her and Jacob’s time in this church wouldn’t last long.

When Leah went to bed that night, she could hardly sleep for delight over plans Jacob and she had made that day. But when she thought of the next morning, in spite of her pledge to be strong, her stomach twisted. Leah wasn’t sure what questions the bishop and elders might ask before the service, though Jacob had given her a pretty good idea of what was to come.
Father, help me to answer the men honestly, without jeopardizing my future or denying my faith.

Leah was disappointed to learn the next morning the bishop wanted her to wait two weeks before sharing her confession with the church. He wasn’t convinced she was truly repentant. Maybe he was right, but she suffered tense hours over the next few days and wished she could just end it by getting on with joining the church.

Leah had a hard time living with her family under the restrictions applied. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were eaten in silence. A couple of times, Jacob brought his lunch to eat with her in the shop, and when he came,
Daet
always left them alone together. She sighed when Jacob would come and sit on the stool, swinging his legs, chatting comfortably, as though there was nothing in the world wrong in their lives. Leah would feel her muscles unwind, her shoulders loosen in ease.

He was so good for her. He always came with a funny story to share or simply a willingness to let her vent her frustrations. As they bowed to pray over their lunch, his hand would search out hers. The first time it happened, Leah opened her eyes, surprised to discover he went right on with his silent prayer, as though holding her hand in prayer was something he had always done. And though it wasn’t typical for Amish couples to do that, it felt right. And good. And special. And Leah needed his affirmation and support now more than ever. Most of the Amish from their church group still did not fully accept her.

In town, when other Amish families met her, they still avoided eye contact. In the shop, at the grocery, anywhere she went, she faced rejection. The worst moment came when she was with
Maem
in town. They turned a corner, and Leah saw Matthew Schrock coming toward them on the sidewalk. As soon as he spied them, his broad smile lit up his face, but Leah, conscious of her precarious status within her Amish community, dropped her eyes and kept her head down as they passed him.

She had glanced back once they were safely out of speaking range and saw him standing immobile, his expression frozen in sad disbelief, his shoulders slumped. She faced forward, hurrying onward, but her mind preserved the picture of his dejected stance.

She knew how that must have hurt him. She knew because she had experienced the same thing when she was out among the English. And still knew it when her Amish neighbors turned away from greeting her even now—the gut-wrenching dismissal of someone withholding a simple, friendly smile.

It began to wear on Leah. The shunning was doing its job; turning her back to being Amish. Back to surrendering her individuality, if for no other reason than to feel like a human being again.

The Saturday when the bishop and the preachers arranged to talk with Leah again finally arrived. It was sunny and warm for a late-December day, and her spirits lifted. The house was filled with the good smells of the coming Christmas season, and all in all, she was ready to answer the bishop’s questions the way he wanted her to.

Leah knew she could never be the same unquestioning Amish girl she used to be, but maybe there would be a way to keep her own private beliefs and live the Amish life, too. And since she had passed her eighteenth birthday, she was sure there would be no trouble with her parents if Jacob and she wanted to marry soon. Maybe they would be planting celery this spring!

Those thoughts were in her mind as she sat in the chair facing the bishop and the elders.

Bishop Miller opened the meeting with prayer, and she noted his tone was softer than the last time he spoke with her. The preachers, Andy Weaver and Earl Plank, still regarded her skeptically, and she knew it would be hard to convince them her confession was genuine.

“Now, Leah,” began Bishop Miller seriously, “you’ve stated you’d like to confess before the church tomorrow and then be accepted for becoming a member. Is that right?”

“Yes, Bishop Miller.”

“You also have renounced your living in the world and all the things we deem wrong and harmful to our Amish beliefs. Is that also right?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Now. We have heard you have an
Englisher
Bible, and when asked about this the last time, you wouldn’t answer the question. We need to know: do you still have this Bible?”

This was the question Leah had dreaded, and it had worried her considerably. Suddenly, she understood.

Just yesterday, in the shop at lunch, Jacob had abruptly asked her to give him the Bible. She’d looked at him as though he was out of his mind, but he’d insisted he wanted to keep it. She’d felt silly sneaking the bright blue Bible down from her room and out to the shop, but he’d only winked as he tucked it into his shirt before going home.

She had to suppress a smile now. “No sir. I don’t have the
Englisher
Bible anymore,” she answered honestly.

Thank you, Jacob, for being so wise.
Later, she might feel remorse for deceiving these men, but for the moment, Leah was too worried about the rest of the questions to think about anything else.

The questioning went on for another hour, but to her surprise, most of the inquiries were fair. The last one, however, left Leah speechless for a minute.

“And now, Leah,” said Preacher Weaver, “we’re very worried about this born-again experience you told us about the last time we spoke to you—before you left.”

All eyes were fixed on her. She swallowed nervously.

“Yes. We need to be sure you have renounced this as a heresy to our religion and to the church,” Preacher Plank added.

Leah had a moment when she imagined herself rising up and defending her faith—of never betraying her Savior, Jesus Christ. Under their scrutiny she wavered, feeling the pressure to conform and the overwhelming desire to be included again, and then she buckled, and nodded her agreement. Leah, like Peter, betrayed the Christ she knew so personally.

Tears sprang to Leah’s eyes, but the church leaders misinterpreted them as signs of remorse. Yes, they
were
tears of remorse, but not for the reasons the bishop and preachers and
Maem
and
Daet
thought. Once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them.

The men gathered and prayed one last time, and, satisfied her heart was now true again to the Amish faith, they left with assurances Leah would be welcomed in the church when she was ready to join. She could safely be called upon in the morning during the Sunday service to ask for forgiveness and give her confession.

After the men left, for the first time in more than a year,
Maem
gathered her in a hug and let her prodigal daughter cry on her shoulder.

Daet
called Leah’s brother and sister into the living room and told them the happy news. Laughter and smiling faces surrounded her again, but Leah’s tears never stopped flowing.

Her heart was broken. She had betrayed her Christ.

Never had her feet felt heavier than as she ascended the stairs to bed that night. And in the morning, she would make it official: no more grace for Leah, no more freedom, and no more lightened yoke. She was
theirs
again.

The service the next morning followed its usual pattern. The preachers offered sermons, but this time used Leah as an example of why one should never leave the church. Each one read lengthy and dire letters from those who had left, and once in a while, they threw in a verse or two about obedience to parents and to the church. But through the entire service, no mention was made of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross and the grace so freely given for all sins.

As she waited for the time in the service where she would be called forward, Leah prayed God would forgive her for her betrayal. She struggled to keep her tears at bay. The happiness shining on her family’s faces didn’t, in any way, penetrate her heart, and she was left feeling cold.

Leah glanced across the room to where Jacob sat, and though she hadn’t had the chance to speak with him about yesterday, he seemed to realize what this day meant to her. He gave her a grave look, but then lifted his eyes to heaven—willing her to know God was still there for her. She closed her eyes and nodded.