That maybe he’d even, well, lost his calling.
“Oh, Bob. You haven’t lost your calling. Every pastor has lost his place in the service or messed up wording in the pulpit. Even me. Usually it’s when I’m not focused. Maybe that’s what happened.”
Bob shut his eyes. “Yeah, maybe I let my mind wander.” But it felt deeper than that.
“I can guarantee that every pastor has off days.”
He rubbed a hand across his eyelids. “I really think I’m losing it.” What would his friend think if Bob told him how stepping into the pulpit was giving him hives? This whole conversation was confirmation of what he’d decided.
What kind of pastor let his hospitalized friend counsel him?
Shouldn’t Bob be the one giving comfort in this moment?
“I think you just needed a break. There’s no shame in that.”
Every word Dan spoke sounded like it had been dragged across a field of broken glass. “Every person in ministry needs a break sometimes. And look, maybe it is time for you to take a different path, but I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t remind you that God loves you. He has not forsaken you.” He coughed again. “You’re going through a rough patch. But I believe you’ll get through.”
“No, Dan. I’ve been feeling this for a while, and I…don’t have it in me to do this anymore.”
A sigh. “Okay. I’ll try and find someone else. Maybe one of the pastors from Two Harbors can come up.”
And now he was just a jerk. “There isn’t another preacher in the entire county?”
“I just thought, with you in town… It’s fine. I’ll keep calling.”
And losing his voice.
And he didn’t know why, but suddenly, the entire thing just sat in his craw. He was on vacation. And yes, it did…mess everything up.
Remind him of his failures. And the fact that, despite everything, God was still giving him the silent treatment.
And as Bob wished Dan well and hung up and stood there in the cold, that fact pinged inside him.
He wasn’t the one who’d walked away from his calling.
God had walked away from him. Or at least…at least, it felt like it. Because hours of prayer hadn’t given him one answer from heaven.
And he was tired of waiting.
He went inside.
Marilyn and Elaine looked startled when he burst back through the door. “We’re leaving.”
“I haven’t finished my cinnamon roll yet.” A red blotch appeared on each of Marilyn’s cheeks.
“If you can wait just a minute, I’ll put these in a box for you.” Elaine scooped up their plates and took them behind the counter.
Marilyn opened her mouth, then closed it again. She stood and pulled on her jacket. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing. I want to get back.” His chest itched. Heck, his everything itched.
Elaine came back with a white pastry box with a fox dancing across the top. “These will keep for a while. Put them in the microwave for fifteen seconds and they’ll be delicious.”
“Thank you. What do we owe you?” Marilyn accepted the box.
“It’s our treat. If you’re ever back in the area, stop by to see us. I’ll be praying for you.”
With a quiet “Thank you,” Marilyn told Elaine goodbye before leading Bob to the car.
The seats crackled from the cold. Bob cranked up the heater, but it only blew cold air at them.
“Why are we leaving? Was there something wrong with Dan?”
He pressed his lips together. “No. Well, actually, yes. He helped fight a fire last night and ended up in the hospital. Smoke inhalation.”
Marilyn stifled a gasp. “I’m sorry to hear it. Should we head over there?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Don’t you want to go visit him?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t get it. Why are you acting so weird?”
“He asked me to officiate a wedding. I told him no.”
“You told your friend, who needs your help because he’s in the hospital, no?” Marilyn’s voice held another question. He almost wished she would just come out and ask it, that she would just say she was disappointed in him.
“I came here to get out of those kinds of responsibilities, so what makes you think I want to take them on for a bunch of strangers?”
“But Dan needs your help.”
He thought Marilyn was going to touch his arm, but she pulled back. He glared out the window at the road in front of them. “He can find someone else. I’m not doing it.”
“He’s your friend.” Her eyes pierced him, but he hardened his heart against the arrows.
“He should know better than to ask. This time off was his idea, for crying out loud.”
She crossed her arms and fell silent. The car tires whirred over the icy roads. Mounds of snow from the recent storm towered around them.
And all around him, the world was white, silent, and cold.
CHAPTER 9
SATURDAY, 8:00 A.M.
Bob could measure the distance between them in miles in the two steps to the cabin door.
Once inside, they shucked off their coats and dodged each other in the small space, avoiding eye contact, bodily contact, and any other possible contact as only two people who are angry know how to do.
“I’ll put these in the fridge.” Marilyn tossed the bakery box alongside the last of their groceries on the top shelf.
Bob sat at the puzzle again. None of the pieces he picked up fit into the gap he was trying to fill. Marilyn sat across from him with a huff.
“I don’t get what is up with you.”
He kept his eyes on the puzzle. The right piece would appear if he looked long enough. “What do you mean?”
“Just everything.” She waved her arms to encompass the room. “The hiding out in the cabin. The excessive puzzles. Anytime I even hint at doing something with just the two of us, you find some random stranger to join in. It’s like you’re afraid to be alone with me.”
Her accusation hung in the air. Next she would be saying that she’d also noticed he was no longer fit for the ministry. He didn’t want to hear it.
Not when he already knew the truth.
“It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s not fight.”
She stood, her eyes fierce. “Not fight? You’d like that. All you’ve been doing lately is avoiding things. Something is wrong with Stella, and you won’t see it. Not to mention, I picked her up from the hospital last night. Something is wrong with us, and you won’t acknowledge it. But yes. Let’s. Not. Fight.”
He stilled. Frowned. Something was wrong with Stella? What hospital? But also… “What do you mean something is wrong with us? I think we’re doing fine.” He sighed. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
“Oh. Classic. Just gonna quote rom-coms now, eh?”
Wow, she was really mad. He kept his voice steady. “No, I mean it.” Saying these words took guts he didn’t think he possessed. “I’m losing my grip. I think I need to quit the ministry.” Each word came out quieter than the last.
Silence. A beat.