Exceptional One day at a time One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, ch 65 by Wayne Fowler

In the last part Ben and Beth were married and after a short time left Santa Rosa for the north country only getting as far as Cloverdale, 35 miles away where Ben was set to preach the next day, as well as to officiate weddings. ^^^^^^^ “Ben, would you like …” Beth was embarrassed, stricken dumb. Not at all sure about how to offer to sing in the church service. “What is it, darlin’?” Ben was enjoying lying in bed with her, ready to get up, but unwilling to leave contact with her. “Well, years ago, I used to sing specials in church, you know, solos.” Very quickly she added, “I’m not saying I’m really good, or a performer. I’m not. But no one ever ran out with their fingers in their ears.” Ben laughed, shaking the bed. “The last few years, ever since… well I just sing to myself.” “I want to hear you sing. No, I don’t mean like an audition. I mean. I love your voice. I bet you sing really well. Do you know Amazing Grace?” “Who doesn’t?” “How about I start us off with an introduction and prayer, then you sing, and then I’ll preach.” Beth turned onto her side to him. “Would it be, I don’t know, sacrilegious for a preacher to make love the morning that he preaches?” She smiled with her whole face. “I think it would be the most loving way to begin the Lord’s Day.” +++ Amazing grace how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost, but now I'm found Was blind but now I see Beth spoke the words dramatically. Ben had no idea that she could. With perfect inflection and emphasis, Beth brought the lyrics to life, personalizing them. Author John Newton’s heart, as well as Beth’s was in the air, floating upward as an offering to God. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear And grace my fears relieved How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed Through many dangers, toils, and snares I have already come This grace that brought me safe thus far And grace will lead me home When we've been here ten thousand years Bright, shining as the sun We've no less days to sing God's praise Than when we first begun Amazing grace how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost, but now I'm found Was blind but now I see “Join me, please.” Beth led the congregation of 46. As Beth sat, picking up her Bible that saved her seat, Ben gazed at her. “Wow. Thank you, Mrs. Persons, Beth.” Before his hands clapped a second time, the people resounded with applause. Then Ben preached, glad that he’d kept it to a short, twenty-minute sermon since the altar call resulted in nearly half the attendees responding. The altar service was as effective as Beth’s performance and Ben’s sermon. Three couples wanted to be married. Helen and her man, a man who seemed half again older than her with three young ones hovering about, another couple, barely out of adolescence, and an old couple who’d been living as man and wife for forty years. Ben signed Helen’s wrinkled document that she might, or might not, have recorded at the County Clerk’s office. Ben wrote the date of the service and signed Martha’s Bible, memorializing the occasion. To the youths, Ben suggested that they get themselves to a judge to make sure their relationship was legalized. Their day finally through, hearts filled with joy, and $11 richer, Beth and Ben walked a trail along the bank of the Russian River. “I had no idea you could sing so well. Why didn’t you tell me?” “I suppose there’s a lot neither one of us knows about each other,” Beth replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Why do you think that old couple, J.O. and Martha, waited so long to get married? Surely, they had opportunity.” “Oh, no telling. Maybe they had to wait for someone to die, like a previous husband or wife. Maybe they didn’t like the old pastor.” “Or maybe this preacher opened their hearts a little bit.” Her head on his shoulder, she had both her hands gripping his arm. She gave it a little tug when she’d said this preacher, looking up to him in time to meet his lips. “But they could have gone down to Santa Rosa any time.” “Simple times, simple people,” Beth said. Changing the subject, Beth asked, “So, is this what a calling is like?” Ben humphed. “Every day’s different. One day I woke up on a schooner, shanghaied and headed for China, or the Japans, or somewhere.” “No! Tell me all about it.” Ben did, resulting in Beth’s draping herself over him, as if in an attempt to protect him, or welcome him home, or in an effort to meld with him. +++ About 40 miles up Old River Road, they came across a beautiful redwood grove and easy access to the river. It was early afternoon, and they’d yet to stop for lunch, what with a late breakfast and even later start on the road. “You up for a bath?” Ben asked. “I stink?” “Just wanna see you nekit,” Ben teased, reverting back to his skinny-dipping days of youth in Arkansas. Beth playfully punched at him. “’Sides, I need ta give these geldings a little schooling.” “I noticed they seem to get their lefts and rights mixed up.” “One way a’ sayin’ it. Whadda we got for lunch?” “Helen made us some ham sandwiches. And we have Luther’s apples.” “Sounds like a feast,” Ben said, helping Beth down from the wagon that was a cross between a buckboard and what was commonly called a phaeton carriage. It was modified for a team instead of a single horse, and outfitted with a cover. The Santa Rosa builder hoped to construct a factory to build and sell a thousand of them. Ben bought his prototype. Coming out of the cold river, self-conscious about being seen by a passer-by, though they hadn’t seen any all day, Beth asked whether they couldn’t camp for the night, even though they could probably make it to a town before nightfall. Ben readily agreed as he hopped to his clothing, nearly as bashful as Beth. +++ A couple hours up the road was the town of Willits. After a not-too-pleasing restaurant meal, the two shopped at one of the general stores for food stuffs that would keep, getting back to traveling as quickly as possible. “I didn’t like that place,” Beth said. “The restaurant?” “The whole town. It felt, I don’t know, creepy.” “Creepy? Is that a word?” Ben chuckled. “It is now.” Ben thought a minute. “You’re right, though. Some kind of evil spirit about that place.” “The food all right?” Beth asked, only partly joking. “Oh, nothing a good blessing won’t fix.” Beth leaned into him, content. “How did I get so lucky?” Ben looked to her. “How did I get so blessed?” Presently they came to an unmarked fork in the road. “Are we lost?” Beth asked. “No, the main road goes left, that’s plain enough, But …” “The calling?” Beth asked. “Think so,” Ben said as he urged the team to the right. A little past midafternoon they arrived at a sawmill operation, a dozen tents of various sizes pitched in a wide clearing. Beth watched to see how Ben worked within his ministry. Recognized

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