“Good news?” Sarah smiled, as if she couldn’t tell with one look at her father when he made his announcement.

“Very good news. I’ve been talking with the missionary society, and it’s starting to look like the door may be opening a little to our returning.”

“Oh?” she replied in a very small voice. Nanci could see that her suitemate was something less than ecstatic about her father’s statement, but could also see that this was a good time to keep her mouth shut.

“It’s not certain yet, of course,” her father continued, apparently not noticing Sarah’s evident discomfort. “The government there really isn’t very warm to the idea, and they’re rather unstable anyway. But at the moment they seem open to receiving a delegation to explore the possibility. That’s better than we’ve managed in some years.”

Nanci felt like she needed to say something. “Does that mean you’ll be going back to Africa?”

“I’m afraid it’s a long way from that happening,” Reverend Lackamp shrugged. “Even if the government were wildly enthusiastic about it, which they’re not, it could take some time to get everything organized. From what little we’ve been able to find out over the years, everything we managed to build in nearly a century of effort is gone, either destroyed or taken over by one faction or another, so if we get to go back we’ll be starting from scratch.”

“We’ve heard that our old mission station is just gone,” Martha added. “It’s not clear who destroyed it, whether it was the army or one of the factions, but all the pleasant memories we had of those days are gone as well.”

Sarah wasn’t saying anything – the subject of her days as a mission child had only rarely come up in their discussions the last three months, and then Nanci had never heard anything in detail about it, but now she was a little bit curious. “I hate to admit that I’m a total hatful of ignorance about it,” she said, “but I take it there’s some sort of revolution going on?”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about being ignorant about the situation there,” Harold shook his head, “because most people know very little about it, and even Martha and I don’t know as much as we would like to, even though we have an intense interest. There has been a very complicated multisided ethnic war going on in the region for many years now. It’s clear that it’s been a very bloody war, too, although there’s no telling just how bloody it’s been because the numbers announced by the various sides don’t even come close to agreeing.”

“Now that you mention it, I think I vaguely remember hearing something about it,” Nanci agreed. “I’m afraid I don’t pay attention to world news like I should. Either I’ve been very busy with my studies, or I’ve been down in the Canyon where we don’t get any news at all. We didn’t even hear about 9/11 until several days after it happened.”

“You’re not alone in not paying much attention to world events,” Reverend Lackamp shook his head again. “But no matter. The odds are that it’s not going to come to anything. It hasn’t yet in all the years we’ve been trying to get back there. But we shouldn’t be standing around talking about it. Why don’t we sit down?”

“I could put on some tea,” Martha suggested.

“That would be fine,” Nanci smiled. “I always enjoy the chance to sit on chairs, rather than rocks.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he grinned. “When we were first at the mission station, back before Sarah was born, we had no chairs, only a couple of rather uncomfortable wooden boxes, and I have to admit that it never got exactly what you would call luxurious.”

“That’s very true,” Sarah’s mother added from the kitchen as the rest of them found seats in the living room. “But it was our home in a way this place could never be, and even if our home is gone the people we knew are still there.”

“Some of them, maybe,” Harold shrugged. “There’s been no news in years.”

“I can’t believe all of them have been killed or driven off,” Martha replied stalwartly. “The Lord will leave a seed to grow future generations.”

“I surely hope you’re right,” Harold said, “but I’m not very optimistic.” He turned to Nanci and added, “But Martha is right. It is our mission and our home, and ever since we were driven from it we’ve wanted to get back. We were very lucky to find this church needing a pastor and willing to take us in until we could return to what we feel is our duty of carrying the Word of God to where it’s needed.”

“From what we’ve heard on the news, and what we hear from the society and our friends,” Martha said, “it’s clear that the Word of God is needed there more than ever. Carrying that word has been our calling since well before Harold and I met. We’ve felt very powerless being stuck here until the door is opened to our return to our mission station in Rwanda.”

“I have to admit that I don’t think the chances of it actually happening are very good,” Reverend Lackamp sighed. “We’ve been disappointed so much for years since the situation there has been so very unstable, but at least this time it appears to be a little more promising than it has been in the past. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’re saying you’d leave the church here?” Nanci asked.

“Of course,” Reverend Lackamp shrugged. “Oh, we’ve been here over ten years now and the people here have always been very kind to us. In fact, I would have to say that our stay has been very successful. But it has always been understood from the beginning and repeated in every annual charge conference that this would only be temporary for us until we could return to our real mission.”

“We never believed we’d be here this long,” Martha replied from the kitchen. “We thought it might be a year, perhaps two at the most, but it hasn’t been without benefits, including Sarah’s schooling, but it would still have been nice to be at home.”

“Maybe it will work out,” Reverend Lackamp shrugged. “We can hope. But Sarah, knowing that this is all theoretical, in the unlikely event this does come to pass, do you think you would be interested in returning to the mission with us? Since you’re an adult, it wouldn’t be something you would have to do.”

“No, Daddy,” she replied in a very small voice. “I . . . I don’t think so.”

Now that, Nanci thought, is very strange. Is that Sarah I just heard say that?

“Well, I can understand,” he said accommodatingly. “You are all grown up now and I’m sure the Lord is calling you. If he calls you in a different direction it’s fine with me. You’d probably want to finish your studies at Hickory Run in any case.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, although the sound of her voice was very uncertain. “I don’t . . . I mean, after that . . . well, there will be something.”

“My one reservation is that I hate to leave you here by yourself,” her father said. “But if it comes to it, I guess it comes to it. I know I would feel more comfortable if you weren’t alone when we go back to Africa.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, “but you know I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your mission, either.”

“I was pretty sure you’d say something like that,” he smiled.

“Sarah,” her mother put in, “perhaps you ought to start thinking about finding yourself a husband.”

“I . . . uh . . . well . . .” Sarah tried to reply, but was mostly tripping over her tongue.

Her mother pressed right on. “You remember Reverend Abraham Bowman, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sarah replied uncertainly. “I met him once or twice.”

“I know he’s getting set to go to a mission, I think in mainland China,” her mother went on. “It won’t be for a while yet, since he’s studying Chinese, Mandarin or one of the other dialects. I think he might be interested in having a wife to go with him.”

“I don’t think so, Mommy,” Sarah shook her head, a little more positively. “I’m quite sure I don’t want to be a missionary or a missionary wife, wherever else the Lord leads me.”

“Still, it’s something you might want to think about and pray about,” Martha continued. “You could do worse than Reverend Bowman, and China could be a real adventure. Don’t just dismiss it without thinking about it.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sarah conceded. “But I don’t think much about it right now, Mommy. I really don’t think that’s what I want to do.”

Nanci kept her mouth shut, but was amazed that Sarah would be defying her mother so vehemently – at least it was vehement for her. Nanci’s impression was that Sarah pretty much acquiesced to whatever her parents wanted, and the only reason she wasn’t as oppressed as some other girls she could have named was that her parents mostly led her rather than pressed her. There is more here than meets the eye, she thought.

“Well, it’s your choice,” Sarah’s mother went on, “but you might be missing a bet.” She turned to Nanci and went on, “In fact, Reverend Chladek, if Sarah doesn’t want to do it, do you think you’d be interested?”

“I don’t think so,” Nanci sighed, realizing that Sarah’s mother was trying to use her as a pry bar, and that Sarah had real resistance to the idea deeper than the gentle way in which she was trying to turn her mother down. “I’ve felt for years that the Lord is leading me to be a pastor, not a missionary, and especially not a missionary’s wife. I have spent many hours on my knees seeking understanding of his calling to me, and I’ve never felt a bit of leading in that direction.”

“The Lord has different callings for us all,” Reverend Lackamp put in. “Christ has many roles for us, and sometimes it’s hard to understand the way we are to serve Him.”

“I believe that to be true, sir,” Nanci smiled, hoping to at least lead this discussion into areas that seemed to be a little less sensitive to Sarah. “My brother-in-law worked toward being a pastor for years, and in fact spent four years as a youth pastor before he was finally led to believe that his ministry was not to be in a pulpit at all. The Lord had quite a time pounding that through his thick skull.”

“It takes a big man to make an admission like that,” Sarah’s father conceded. “But I have seen many people over the years carry on in what they knew to be the wrong direction because they were working toward something they’d once thought they wanted to do. I take it you’re very strong in your desire to fill a pulpit.”

“It’s not my desire, sir, but it is the Lord’s,” Nanci replied. “I will admit to liking the idea, and while my actual time in serving as a minister is limited, I have felt it’s what I’m supposed to be doing, and I look forward to serving the Lord doing it more in the future.”

“You’re not staying with your rafting on the Colorado River, then?”

“Unless the Lord decides he wants to keep me there, next summer will probably be my last year there. After that, I hope to have a church somewhere, in one way or another. In fact, there’s a church in Flagstaff that has asked me to be their pastor, and who knows? I might just take them up on it.”

“I have to ask why you haven’t done it.”

“Plenty of reasons,” Nanci shrugged. “The biggest one, of course, is that I was an undergraduate going to school far out of town, and now I’m at Hickory Run, of course. I really am looking forward to being fully ordained. On top of that, my summer job meant that I was often unavailable on Sundays. The other thing is that it’s a very small independent church, the Flagstaff John Wesley Fellowship. The congregation is rather elderly, although they’re all good people, but none of them can support the church as much as they would like to. They’ve gotten along for years without a pastor simply because they can’t afford one.”

“That would make things a little more difficult. How do they get along?”

“Lay speakers and volunteer supply ministers,” Nanci smiled. “My brother-in-law and I are just two among several of them. Neither of us has ever taken a cent to speak there, and I don’t think many of the others have, if any of them have ever done it at all. The church offered to pay for my gas when I had to drive a hundred and fifty miles up from Phoenix to speak on Sundays, but I refused, even though I was up there about every other Sunday for several months last winter. They have better uses for what little money they have.”

“That has to be awkward for them,” Martha commented.

“It is at times, but sometimes it’s very interesting, too. Some of the speakers they’ve had were worth my driving up from Phoenix just to sit in the congregation and listen to them. One time I gave the supporting service, but the sermon was given by an old Hopi shaman who didn’t even pretend to be a Christian. It was one of the most moving sermons I’ve ever heard. It was about taking care of one another because we are all brothers despite our differences.”

“I have to admit, that sounds interesting,” Reverend Lackamp smiled. “That’s not something you’d see every day.”

“Oh, I agree, but it still makes for a friendly and close fellowship. I can see why the members of the church want to hold onto what they have. Half a dozen churches in town have helped them out in one way or another. I’m the Associate Pastor of the Hillside Methodist Church in Flagstaff, and sometimes I’ve given the services there so Reverend Miller, the pastor, could go over to the Fellowship to speak or help out on a Sunday morning. I mean, it’s all in good Christian fellowship.”

“It sounds like it might be an interesting place to be,” Reverend Lackamp smiled.

“There are times I’ve been very tempted to take them up on their offer,” Nanci said. “And who knows? I might even do it, even if I had to get an outside job to be able to do it. But once I get ordained I suspect the Lord will have other things for me to do.”

All in all, it was a pleasant evening, and there was plenty of good conversation. The Lackamps had been aware of Nanci being a Grand Canyon boatman, of course, and they asked her about her adventurous life. She had plenty of good stories to tell, and they had some good ones about being missionaries in Africa.

The next morning Nanci was alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Lackamp and offered to help her with the cooking for Thanksgiving dinner. “You don’t have to do it,” Sarah’s mother replied as she was peeling potatoes; Nanci grabbed a paring knife and began to help.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Nanci told her. “In fact, I miss cooking a little, especially holiday meals. The family will be gathering down at my brother and sister-in-law’s in Phoenix today. It’s sort of a family tradition, and I suspect poor Tanisha is going nuts.”

“Why is that?”

“Tani isn’t much of a cook,” Nanci grinned. “Oh, she can do a perfectly good job of opening a can, but cooking really wasn’t something she was brought up with. She has her talents, but using a stove isn’t exactly one of them, so I’ve done the heavy lifting on Thanksgiving dinners the last three years. I was living with them while I was going to Black Mesa College. I really wasn’t brought up in the kitchen either, but I learned a lot of it as a boatman.”

“What’s she going to do without you there?” Martha smiled.

“Like I said, go nuts. Except I suspect my mother is already there to save the day.”

“I’ll bet you’re missing being there.”

“Oh, yeah. It was good to have a family again after having missed them so long, but I’ve done without being with my family at holidays before and I have little doubt that I will have to do it again. Didn’t you miss being home for special holidays, like Thanksgiving, when you were missionaries in Africa?”

“Well, yes,” the older woman admitted, “especially in the early years when my folks were still alive. But after a while, well, it became our home and just the way things were. A couple of times several mission families of different faiths got together and we’d have a turkey that had been sent in somehow or another, but most of the time Thanksgiving was just another day to us.”

“I guess that strikes me as a little strange,” Nanci shrugged. “I mean, I know I’m pretty American. I’ve never been outside the country, even to Canada or Mexico.”

“It’s very different, especially in a place like Africa, and I was a long time getting used to it. I was just a little girl when I realized I wanted to be a missionary, and I worked toward it for years. It didn’t become a reality until I met Harold, and well, it worked, at least until all the troubles broke out around us.”

“Are you really sure you want to go back there?”

“Oh, yes. It really is our life’s work, after all. It’s where the Lord put us and where we both want to be, and Harold’s being a local minister here is just something for us to do until we can make it back where we belong.”

“It’s nice to have that dedication,” Nanci replied, trying to choose her words wisely. “But I don’t think it’s something I’d care to do.”

“You have to want to do it,” Martha nodded. “I think it’s pretty clear that Sarah doesn’t want to go back to Africa, and when you get down to it I guess I don’t blame her. But if she wanted to she could be a perfectly good missionary’s wife in a place that isn’t quite so unstable. I wish she were a little more open to the idea of getting together with Reverend Bowman. I think she could do well in China.”

There it was again, Nanci thought. Martha had brought him up at least a half a dozen times, and Sarah had politely let the suggestions roll off her. Nanci could easily see that Sarah didn’t think much of the idea. “Maybe she just doesn’t want to be a missionary,” she pointed out.

“I’m not sure if she knows what she wants. In fact, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know. Sarah is a nice girl and she’s smart, but I’m afraid she’s always going to need someone to guide her. Nanci, I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem to be very self-assured. You have goals in your life and the initiative it takes to accomplish them. You’re not thinking about getting married, are you?”

“I suppose I will sometime, but not soon,” Nanci shrugged. “I have things in my life I need to accomplish first, and being married would just make those things more complicated. When the time comes for me to get married, if it comes, I’ll be ready for it, but if it doesn’t come soon I won’t mind.”

“That’s pretty much the message I’ve gotten from you all along. But isn’t it nice to have your family to lean on when you need some help and guidance?”

“Of course it is. I didn’t always have it. I had some dark times when I needed that kind of guidance but wouldn’t admit to it. When I finally managed to make it in from the cold, things, well, they changed a lot for the better for me.”

“So you see what I’m talking about. Look, Nanci, and in this case I probably ought to say, Reverend Chladek, I’m aware that Sarah depends on us a lot. In fact, I’m of the opinion that she depends on us too much, but that’s how things developed. If it works out that Harold and I can go back to Africa, I’m worried that Sarah is going to be left without having us around to depend on.”

“I have to admit, I’ve wondered about that,” Nanci said. “If it happens, I’m willing to try to help out where I can, but I’m afraid it can only be for a limited period of time.”

“I understand that,” Martha nodded, “and really it shouldn’t have to be your responsibility in the first place.” She let out a long sigh. “Honestly, the best answer for her is to be married, so her husband could take over giving her the guidance and support that she needs. I realize I’ve been a bit of a pest about Abe Bowman, but it looks to me like he could be the person she needs.”

“She doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about the idea.”

“Yes,” Martha sighed. “And I wish she weren’t so negative about it. He has a good deal that he could offer her, and I wish she’d think it through. I don’t think we would want to force her into it or anything, but it strikes me as a good idea for her. Perhaps you could, well, persuade her to give it a little more consideration than she seems to have done so far.”

“I don’t think I ought to be pushy, but if she wants to talk about it with me maybe I can explore the idea with her a little, but don’t expect me to try and sell her on it. And Mrs. Lackamp?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know Sarah all that well, but I have the feeling that she’s near the point where pushing it at her any more would be counterproductive. I mean, she’ll just dig in her heels and fight you on it.”

“You know,” Martha sighed, “I actually wish she would fight us on it. It would mean that she’s starting to take charge of her own life a little bit.”

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