“You don’t sound fine. You sound like someone who is in a lot of pain. It has been several hours since you had any laudanum.”
“I don’t want any medicine. It clouds my mind, and right now I need to be able to think clearly.”
“Why?” She gave him a serious look. “You have no reason to do anything but recover. There is nothing at all that needs your attention. Mrs. Cooper said she is watching over your room and things, and Mr. Bradley said he’ll be happy to take you back on at the furniture store when you are fully well. So you see, you can just rest.”
“I don’t want to just rest. I’m tired of just resting. I lie here and think of all that’s happened, and it haunts me. I can’t help but think of my mother and sister. I couldn’t attend their funeral—I didn’t get to attend my father’s funeral either—and I can’t even get out of bed to observe where they buried them.”
“That will come in time. My father arranged and paid for everything. They were laid to rest in a lovely part of thecemetery. You’ll be able to pay your respects when your body is completely mended. I don’t mean to sound callous, but there is nothing you can do for them. They are with God, and their time of trouble and sorrow is done.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yours has just begun. The heartfelt sadness will go on for some time, so it’s best to just let your body heal.”
“You think you have all the answers, don’t you?” He didn’t mean to be harsh with her, but on the other hand, he just wanted her to go—to leave him as everyone else had.
“I suppose you think if you offend me enough,” she began, “that I’ll desert you. That then you’ll truly be without friend or hope and able to wallow in self-pity.” She smiled again. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. I’m not easily offended, and even when you say something that strikes a nerve, I remind myself of all that you’re going through. You have every right to be heartbroken.”
“I’m not heartbroken. I’m angry. Angry that God would allow this to happen. Angry that He obviously doesn’t care about me—didn’t care about my mother and sister. They were faithful to God all these years, and He abandoned them.”
“I hardly think so. The Bible makes it quite clear that God is faithful and is with us to the end. And even then, to be absent from the body is to be present with Him. Your mother and sister loved God, and He loved them. They were never alone, never abandoned.”
“You can’t know what they felt,” Will snapped back.
Laura gave a slow nod. “That’s true. I don’t know what they felt, but neither do you. Will, you can’t sit here and torment yourself with thoughts of what they might have felt or thought. They are safely in God’s care now. They aren’tsuffering, but you are. Why not talk to God about it? Give it all over to Him.”
“I have nothing to give Him but questions. I want answers.” Will knew he was out of line, but he didn’t care.
“So ask Him your questions, Will.” Her soft, gentle voice was almost a balm to his wounded soul. Almost.
“A person can’t question God. We’re mere mortals. We have no right to question God.”
“As I recall, people throughout the Bible questioned God. Even Jesus. It cannot be a sin to question Him if Jesus did it.” Laura touched his hand, then gave him a gentle pat. “You’ve lost a lot, and you’re grieving. God knows your heart. You aren’t seeking to belittle Him. You aren’t posing a question to taunt Him. Ask your questions, Will. You might get answers. But even if you don’t, perhaps God will give you comfort.”
Laura hoped her words were consoling rather than troubling. She knew that Will was lost in his sadness and fighting a battle within himself regarding his faith. He had been ready to leave the comforts of the world he knew and to minister to the Indians. Now the Indians were responsible for him losing the last of his family. How could he not have questions and confusion over whether he wanted to continue with his plans?
After their earlier discussion about questioning God, Laura had left Will alone for a few hours to sleep. She hoped he might spend at least a little of that time in prayer, posing the questions that haunted his soul.
She had prayed before returning to his room to read her Bible while he slept. Prayed for him as she had no other. A teacher had once told Laura that prayer was an intimate andloving gift that one could give at any moment to any person.“You don’t have to know them well or even know their needs, but by praying for them and asking God to help them, you have done the very best that you could ever do.”
The teacher gave the example of being just a regular citizen but having the ability to go into the office of the president of the United States and put forth your requests. Not only would the president receive you, but he would honestly listen to you and regard your requests with great consideration. As a Christian, a person had the ability to go before the King of kings and make their petitions known. And not only would God receive you, but He would honestly listen and answer.
Sometimes the answer wasn’t what a person might want to hear. Laura remembered that perhaps even more than the rest of what her teacher had said. Laura had prayed for her mother to recover from her sickness, but God had said no. As her mother’s condition deteriorated, Laura remembered a sense of confusion. Even her mother was baffled as to why God wouldn’t heal her body. She had trusted in Him and asked for healing, but His answer had been no. At least for healing on earth.
When her mother died, Laura had asked God why it had to be that way and never felt that God had offered an explanation. She was sure Will felt the same way. It touched her deeply that he should be so alone. She wanted to make certain he knew that she was there for him.
She glanced up from where she sat reading her Bible and found Will watching her. She smiled.
“Did you rest well?”
“I suppose.”
“Would you like to sit up for a while?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“That’s fine.” Laura put her Bible aside. “I can remember mornings at boarding school when I’d awaken before it was time to get up. I loved just lying there with my eyes closed, listening to the sounds around me, wondering about what the day might hold.”
“You spent an awful lot of time at boarding schools.”
“Yes, I did. My father was grief-stricken after the death of my mother, as was I. He was unable to face his grief and knew he wouldn’t be a good father, so he did what he felt he had to do and sent me away.”
“Did that make you angry?”
