He waved an arm around the building. "Do you see anything that needs to be done?"
"No. Other than picking up the toys that my boys have gotten out. I did caution them to only play with a few things."
"I figure about two seconds after the first kid gets here, the toys will be out and a mess from then until everyone leaves and someone picks them up. That's just kind of the nature of children, isn't it?"
"How do you know so much about kids when you don't have any of your own?"
"Maybe someday I will. I feel like God has a family for me somewhere, but... it hasn't happened yet."
"So you want to get married?" She didn't know why she was asking that. What did it matter to her? But she found herself unusually interested and hanging on his answer.
"Yes. I feel like a pastor is more effective when he has a wife beside him. Someone who can help him. And not to be sexist, but..."
"That's not sexist. The Bible clearly says that the woman was created to be the man's helpmeet. Which I always understood to be a helper that's fit for him. So it's up to the woman to shape herself and adjust herself to be a helper in whatever her man does."
She couldn't help the sadness that had entered her voice. That's what she had always believed. She had helped Cam however she could. Of course, being that he was in the military, it wasn't like he had his own business that she was helping him with, but she tried to make their home a haven, to make sure that whatever he was facing with his job or his deployment, talking to her was an oasis of peace and love and laughter. She felt like that was the best way she could help him.
"I feel like there was more that you didn't say," Pastor Mark finally said after a long pause.
"I guess sometimes I just wonder what God was thinking, you know?"
"I certainly have those thoughts myself. But the Bible says that His ways are higher than ours. So I have to accept that. What causes you to wonder?"
"It's true that his ways are higher than ours. Sometimes it's pretty amazing how He works things out. But... I didn't go to college or get any kind of training for a job, because I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I feel like that's part of what's wrong with our country today. So many women are more concerned about their careers and their hairand their nails and buying whatever it is that they feel like is going to make them happy, and they don't focus on being a good wife, on making their house a home. On raising the children and doing all the things that a woman was created to do. And then, my husband died. And all of a sudden, I am left holding the bag, so to speak. Because I've got two little boys who are depending on me, and no career, no way of earning any income, no education or anything. It just... it seemed like I was doing what I know God wanted me to, and it bit me hard."
"Is the candle shop doing okay?"
"It's paying the bills."
"Then God provided."
She kept her mouth shut. He was right. God didn't provide the way she thought He should—with a husband who didn't die. But...
She sighed, the air seeming to come from the very depths of her soul. "I know you're right. We've never gotten hungry. We've never lacked for anything essential. But... I still just can't help but question why God would take my husband after I had tried so hard to do what I felt God wanted me to, and what God commands for women in the Bible."
"I guess I could see why you're questioning that. But I also see that God has provided bountifully for you. You didn't need any of those things that the world tells you you do. And when you lost your husband, God came through, showing that when you follow Him and do things His way, He doesn't leave you, but always takes care of you."
She had never thought about it like that. She had just questioned God allowing her husband to die. She hadn't thought about how He had, as Mark said, totally taken care of them. Even though she didn't have an education and wasn't planning on using her candles to support the family.
"But there are so many women who want to have a career. Who want to be outside of the home. Who don't want to stay home with their children, who don't want to be a wife and mother according towhat the Bible tells us to do, and yet they have husbands. I guess I look around and don't understand."
"I've found that for me, personally, it's best for me to keep my eyes on Jesus and look at Him. Think about what He wants, think about what He's doing, think about how I can be more like Him, because when I start looking around at everyone else, I start to be very discontent."
Olivia snapped her mouth closed. How did he give her a mini sermon, convict her so thoroughly, and not make her feel bad, but make her realize that he was completely and totally right, all in the span of five minutes?
"You're very good at your job," she finally said. And she meant it.
But he looked confused. "What brought that on?" he asked, as though he hadn't just delivered a sermon in a casual conversation and not made her feel preached at, but rather like it was a subtle reminder and a big encouragement.
"Just that we're having a conversation, and all of a sudden, I realize that I've been listening to a sermon, but I didn't even realize it, because you made it so natural, so much a natural part of what we were talking about. I didn't feel like you were slamming me, or judging me, or finding me lacking. And I have to admit that a lot of times I do feel that way. Christians judge, you know?"
"They definitely do. I think sometimes Christians are the least Christlike people on the planet. Even non-Christians a lot of times are more Christlike than Christians are. But maybe that's why those people became Christians to begin with, because they knew they really needed the Lord."
"And I'm being judgmental by judging Christians. Aren't I?" She laughed a little and shook her head. "I hate it when I become what I hate, but it happens more often than I'd like to admit."
"To you too? Because I find that's true for me. It's almost like I dislike something because I know I am that thing, subconsciously if not consciously."
They laughed together, and then lapsed into silence. It was acomfortable silence, though, and Olivia didn't feel like she needed to scramble to find something to say. She felt like Mark, far from judging her, admired her. And enjoyed talking to her. There were just certain people that a person met who were capable of making someone feel like they mattered. Mark had that gift.
