His Love Endures Forever

Nineteen




FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS, DANIELLE AND Vera coexisted for a couple of hours in the morning and again in the afternoon. Most days, Betsy hung out with Danielle while her mother cooked and cleaned, but that morning Betsy elected to go to Lillian’s to play with the girls. It was quiet, except for the sound of Vera running the sweeper across the floor in the living room.

When Danielle had told the restaurant manager that she couldn’t work for a few months, they had both agreed to part ways. Levi had already said he wanted her to stay at home with Joshua after he was born.

Danielle plugged in her earbuds for her iPhone and checked her e-mail, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Levi had been good about charging her phone every few days so she could play games and check a few favorite websites, but she’d never really been much of an e-mailer. Today, she had thirty-six e-mails when she opened the tab. Scanning through them, they were mostly junk. But the one from Vivian Kent Shephard caused her heart to skip a beat.

She’d never written her mother back, and the day had passed since her mother’s planned marriage. She stared at the e-mail for a while before she clicked on it.

Hi Danielle,

I hope you received my letter, but since I haven’t been able to reach you by phone, I’m trying your old e-mail account, with high hopes I’ll hear from you. Louis and I are married, and like I said in my letter, the Lord has blessed me with a second chance. I loved your father so much, and I didn’t think I’d ever find another man to live the rest of my life with.

Tears streamed down Danielle’s face, anger burning in her heart. The Lord? Seriously, Mother? Danielle was struggling to get God to like her and to establish some sort of relationship with Him for Levi’s sake. And Joshua’s. But would God actually bestow happiness on someone like Vivian? Or was it all just lies? She pressed her palms to her eyes for a moment, then went on.

I hope that things are going well with you. Please let me hear from you.

Love,

Mom

Danielle stared at the letter. Once again, not an ounce of regret, and no desire for forgiveness. While she was unsure whether or not she would forgive her mother, even if she asked, it would have been nice if Danielle had been a factor in her mother’s new future.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Vera rushed into the room carrying a feather duster.

Danielle squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to get into this with Vera. Sniffling, she looked up at her. “No. I’m not in pain.” Such a lie. Pain gripped her from head to toe.

Vera walked right up to the bed, her eyebrows drawn, her lips pinched together. “Then what is it? Why are you crying?”

Danielle swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s a letter from my mother.” Another tear slipped down her cheek. “Or the woman who calls herself my mother, I guess I should say.”

Vera pulled the chair up close and sat down. “This upset isn’t gut for the boppli. Do you want to talk about it?”

Danielle shook her head, but then words spewed forth without thought. “I hate her! I hate my mother!” She buried her head in her hands. When she looked back up, Vera’s eyes were softer and kinder than usual, but the woman didn’t say anything. “She beat me. Did you know that? And now . . .” She started sobbing so hard she could barely talk. “She wants to talk to me about God, about her second chances and her new husband. I hate her.”

Vera was quiet, and Danielle regretted her outburst, but Vera was only with her because of Levi, and right now, she didn’t care if Vera liked her or not. Her own mother didn’t like her.

Danielle cried for another minute or so. Vera just sat there. “I’m sorry,” Danielle finally said. “I’m sorry that you are seeing me like this. But I guess in my mind, I just . . . I just keep waiting for my mother to say she’s sorry. And she never does. How can God bless someone like her? She doesn’t even know Him!”

VERA WAITED ANOTHER minute until Danielle gathered herself, unsure exactly how to proceed. Vera loved her children as much as life itself, and she’d do anything to keep them safe and protected. She knew about Danielle’s history from Martha, even though Levi had never said anything to her about it. In the beginning, she’d wondered if Danielle had been an unruly child who pushed her mother to the edge, but even if that had been the case, that was no reason to raise a hand to a youngster outside of just a spanking. Vera knew she needed to choose her words carefully.

“Maybe your mother has come to know the Lord since you last spoke with her.” Vera cringed as she watched Danielle’s face take on a contorted expression.

“So that’s how God works?” She grunted, rubbing her belly. “Do whatever evil things you want, then all you have to do is say you’re sorry, and all is well? So now my mother is forgiven, loved by God, and living a happy life. Good for her!” She started to sob again.

Vera took a deep breath. Her people believed in Jesus as their Lord and Savior, but they also believed that a person should live according to the Ordnung, a life of dedication to the Lord, hard work, and worship. But Vera knew that a personal relationship with God didn’t come easily for everyone, no matter what their religious upbringing was. Vera was proof of that. Even though she knew that the Lord was as much a part of her as the air she breathed, truly knowing Him was a discovery she’d made late in life. Yet she’d never admitted it to another living soul. But as she watched Danielle suffering, she felt the Lord calling her to share her story with Danielle. I’m not sure I can.

She ignored the pull at her heart to open up to Danielle, and instead said, “Forgiveness doesn’t come easily, Danielle. And sometimes saying you’re sorry doesn’t either. I’m sure your mother regrets how she hurt you. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to say it.” Vera folded her lands in her lap, resolved that her secret would remain her own.

Danielle stared straight ahead at the peeling white wall, avoiding Vera’s eyes. “She doesn’t love me. But I’m going to make up for her lack of love for me, and I’m going to love Joshua with my heart and soul. I will never hurt him. Ever.”

Vera eased her posture, leaning back against the chair. “Ya, you will hurt him. Maybe not the same way your mother hurt you, but you’ll hurt him, even if it’s not intentional. We love them,” she said with a shrug, “and yet inevitably hurt them.”

Danielle studied her and then looked away, fiddling with the edge of the blanket as she recalled saying almost that exact same thing to Levi once. “My mom and I . . . parted badly. We haven’t talked in a long time. But now she claims to have this wonderful second chance with her new husband and a relationship with God? How does that work, Vera?” She threw her hands up. “Because I just don’t get it.”

Vera tried to organize her thoughts. It was not the Amish way to minister to others, and Vera wasn’t sure what to do. Again, her own secret tugged at her heart, and again, she pushed it aside. “We are all the Lord’s children, and—”

“Yes. I’ve heard all that before. Repeatedly, from Martha. And from Levi. And I’ve been praying with Levi. I’ve been praying for Joshua. But I don’t hear anything back. Nothing. God has never been there for me, and this letter from my mother . . . it’s a slap in the face from both my mother and God.”

Vera felt a huge sense of relief that Levi and Danielle had been praying together; it gave her hope that they would raise the child in a Christian home, even if they weren’t Amish. But Vera knew that it was her job as a good Amish woman to stay true to her own faith. One could never be sure if an outsider was truly faithful; the Amish could only trust other Amish in their commitment to the Lord. Vera knew the Englisch could commit to a life of servitude to the Lord . . . but you just never knew for sure.

That said, Danielle was as far detached from God as any person she’d ever known. The girl was solely responsible for pulling her son away from his faith.

So, why had Vera’s own past come calling now?

“What if your mother never says she’s sorry?” Vera leaned forward, tempted to put her hand on Danielle’s. “You must try to forgive her anyway. Otherwise it will be hard to have the kind of relationship with God that you want.”

Vera thought about Danielle’s circumstances. She could see why the child would think God was never there for her, however misdirected. She just doesn’t understand.

“I just don’t get it.” Danielle swiped at her eyes, shaking her head.

Vera held her breath, knowing that there was no way that Danielle could comprehend the sting that Vera felt at hearing those very words, and Vera knew that it was no coincidence. God was speaking to Vera directly. He might as well have said aloud, “Vera, you know what you have to do. Send her to Me.”

Vera laid her head in her hands for a moment and prayed, Lord, help me do as You’ve asked. She looked up at Danielle and locked eyes with her. “I haven’t always had the faith, Danielle.”

The girl didn’t say anything, and her expression didn’t change much. Vera knew Danielle didn’t realize what a big step this was for Vera. She took a deep breath and went on. “I was baptized into the faith, married Levi’s father, and I’d had two children before I had a real relationship with God.” Vera swallowed hard, pulling her eyes from Danielle’s. “And I’ve never told a living soul about it.” She finally looked back to Danielle, who was expressionless, listening and waiting for her to go on.

“Of course, I went to worship every other Sunday. I studied the Ordnung, and my life was filled with devotions, Bible study, and fellowship with others in our community.” Vera hung her head for a moment. “But I never knew Him.” She looked up at Danielle. She covered her hand with her mouth as tears threatened to spill and shame wrapped around her. She knew in her heart that shame was the work of the enemy, yet having to tell this story out loud brought forth a wave of it just the same. “It’s not about good deeds, Bible study, devotions, church . . .” She held up one finger. “Don’t get me wrong. These things are gut and very important. But there is something more. So much more. When you allow God into your heart in a way that . . .” Vera’s words trailed off as she struggled to find the right phrasing. How could she possibly make Danielle understand this?

“Go on,” Danielle said softly, her eyes steadfast on Vera.

“There’s a feeling you get, an all-knowing sense of peace that comes with knowing the Lord. I’m not sure I know how to explain it. I just remember when the peace settled over me, it was different from anything that I’d ever known. It’s a love so strong that you never have to be afraid, never have to worry, and never have to fear.” She swallowed back tears as she realized that she had been doing all of those things, knowing that she’d been blocking the voice of God in her effort to control things with Levi and Danielle. “His love endures forever, Danielle. Talk to the Lord like you would your best friend and open your heart to Him with total trust. Place your future—and your past—in His hands. Life will never go the way you plan. But putting your total trust in God is the answer.”

Vera took a deep breath as Danielle leaned forward, her expression still blank and unreadable. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

“When?” Danielle squinted one eye.

Vera blinked. “When, what?”

“When did the peace settle over you? When did it happen?”

Vera pulled her eyes from Danielle’s, wishing she could offer up some partial version of the truth, but Vera knew exactly when she’d truly opened her heart and gotten to know God in an intimate way. She stared at Danielle, unable to believe that she was about to tell this young girl her deepest secret.

She sighed. “When I forgave my mother.” She swallowed past a thick knot in her throat.

Danielle just sat there. Vera wanted to yell at her to say something, anything, for Danielle to know that she was revealing a part of her past she’d long since buried in an effort to help.

“Did she hit you?” Danielle said steadily.

“No! Of course not.” Vera leaned back, squinting. “My mother would never do that.”

Danielle lowered her head, and Vera regretted her sharp comeback, but it was true—her mother would have never laid a hand on any of her children.

“Then what was it? What did you have to forgive her for?”

Vera wished she’d never brought it up, that she’d found another way to reach her . . . “I’d rather not say,” Vera finally said. “But the point is that forgiveness is essential to healing, and . . .”

Danielle shrugged. “Okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Vera had lost Danielle’s attention, and somehow the importance of this confession was reduced to a shrug, and that wasn’t acceptable. Vera had come this far; she supposed she couldn’t expect Danielle to just accept her on her word without all the details.

“I—I—” Vera sighed. She’d never said it aloud before. She’d never even told Elam. “I walked in on my mother with another man. One day while my father was working the fields. He was another Amish man in our community.” She looked at Danielle and could tell she had the girl’s full attention. “I was eleven years old.”

“What did you do?” Danielle pushed back her covers and folded her legs beneath her.

“I ran out of the room, and it was never spoken of. Until today.”

“You didn’t ask your mother about it?”

Vera was lost in the memory for a few moments, the look on her mother’s face, the man she knew as Roy Hostetler with his lips pressed against her mother’s in her parents’ bedroom. “No. But from then on, everything I’d been taught, and would be taught for the next ten years, sounded like hollow words to me. I went through the motions, said my prayers, and . . . and had to face Roy in worship every other Sunday until we moved here several years ago.” She stood up and paced the room for a moment, then turned to Danielle. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I just thought it might help. I had to forgive my mother even though she didn’t seem to require it from me. Maybe she had made her peace with God on her own.” She smoothed the wrinkles from her black apron, wishing Danielle’s expression would give a hint as to whether Vera was getting through to her.

“Why did it take you ten years before you got close to God again?”

Then Vera gave her the most honest, regrettable answer she had, the hardest part of the story. “I don’t know.”

Danielle was quiet, her head cocked to one side.

“But one day I couldn’t stand the emptiness I felt, despite all that I’d been blessed with. I had a loving husband and my boys. But something was amiss. I’d always prayed and done all the things I mentioned to you before, but something still wasn’t right in my heart.” Vera sat down again. “So I set out to figure out what it was. I couldn’t talk to any of our people because . . . well, I’d been brought up Amish, and I didn’t think anyone would understand why I didn’t trust the Lord and why I constantly questioned His will. It just isn’t our way.”

Danielle was quiet.

“One day I walked out into a full field of wildflowers back in Middlefield. A neighbor was caring for Jacob and Levi that day. I sat down in the field.” Vera paused as she blinked back tears at the recollection. “And I remember I just felt so alone. And I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. I poured out everything I had inside of me, the built-up resentments, the fears, the worries . . . and I gave it all to God. I opened my heart and let Him in, and I cried for a long, long time.” Vera realized she was crying now. She looked up at Danielle, who still appeared emotionless, and Vera felt ridiculous. Apparently today wasn’t nearly so much about Danielle as it was about herself. She straightened, sniffled, and looked away from Danielle for a moment, then turned back to her.

“He is the only way. That’s what I’m saying. If you’re feeling alone or longing for peace, He is the way.” She turned to leave, feeling a flush rising up her neck and filling her cheeks. “You must be weary of my yammering on. I’ll leave you be now and finish cleaning.”

“Vera?”

Stopping in the doorway, Vera slowly turned around and raised an eyebrow, wishing she could just go home and think. “Ya?” Danielle rose and walked toward her. “Ach, back to bed now. You shouldn’t be up.” But the girl kept coming until she stood right in front of her. Vera waited.

“Is that all I have to do?” Danielle bit her bottom lip and blinked a few times. “Just forgive my mother and open my heart to God, trust Him, and give Him my worries and fears?”

Vera smiled. “It’s a lot, my child. But, ya . . . We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. Talk to God like a friend. He will be there for you.”

Danielle stepped closer and threw her arms around Vera’s neck, and Vera didn’t move for a moment. The girl trembled, weeping. Then slowly she wrapped her arms around Danielle and cried with her. They stood there for several long minutes, and Vera silently thanked God for giving her courage and strength. She would pray that Danielle would turn to Him, but today was also a huge reminder for Vera about who was in control. She herself was far from perfect, and living as Christ asked was a daily battle. But it’s so worth it. . .

“Thank you,” Danielle whispered, sniffling.

Vera eased her away and smiled. “Nee, thank you, child.”