ESCAPE - Chapter 6

In the worship service bulletin I had the secretary word the announcement this way, “Next Sunday, following the Worship service, there will be a Congregational meeting for the purpose of asking the congregation to vote their approval or disapproval of dissolving the pastoral relationship between this Church and the Reverend Joshua Sterner.” That wording would allow me some additional time to decide whether to resign and ask for the congregation’s approval or whether to leave it to someone to make a motion that the congregation requests that its pastoral relationship with me be dissolved. I saw a number of people in the pews pointing to the bulletin. Apparently the members of the Session had kept to themselves their plan to ask me to leave.

My sermon was “Sola Scriptura”. The Scriptures are the only book in the world in which God has revealed Himself to mankind. The Scriptures contain words inspired by God and are literally the Word of God. Therefore, the Scriptures carry with them the same authority as a signed decree by a king, except they are the decrees of God. The Scriptures teach us what we need to know about God and what duties He requires of us. The Scriptures contain the only way of salvation. The Scriptures have sufficient power in themselves, without any priest or clergyman, to lead those who read them to salvation and a relationship with God. 

After church I had a light lunch and lay down for a nap. That evening Phil called. He and Molly and then Billy and Polly talked with me. The kids were excited about school. They have to ride over an hour on the school bus. Molly has been teaching them songs to sing on the way to school. The other kids are joining in, happy to have a way to pass the time.

 About an hour afterward Nathaniel called.

“Hi, Dad. I just wanted to see if you are all right.”

“Yes, I’m doing okay, Nathaniel, how about you?”

“Well, good. Good talking to you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Good-bye now.”

“Good-bye, son.”

Monday, I devoted myself to assembling the checks and receipts for Laura’s medical expenses that were in my files. The ones in the envelope in Laura’s dresser drawer covered the first six years and the very beginning of this year. They were carefully arranged in chronological order. Then she had given me power of attorney so that I could sign checks on her account to pay medical bills. After that the checks and bills were in my files.

After I finished arranging the checks and bills in my files, I took them to the office of Graham Bilton, C.P.A.  I had been going to tabulate them myself and print four copies and mail that to the boys. I thought that it would be better to have them audited. Maybe that would settle the matter.

“Graham, I have a job that I would like for you to do for me. Two of my sons practically accused me of embezzling Laura’s inheritance. In these two envelopes are the originals of the bills and checks of monies spent from her account. Would you audit them and write a statement of your findings? Then I’ll mail a copy to each of my sons.”

“I’ll be glad to do that for you. Things are slow right now so I should have the job completed this week.”

I walked back home. There was a message on the answering machine from the bank. It was too late to call this evening. This was supposed to be my day off. I decided to drive over to the next town and go to the movies, just to get out of the house. When I came to the movie house and looked at the posters for the six movies showing, none of them were appealing. I went to Jim’s Hamburger Restaurant and bought a large hamburger with sweet potato fries. The hamburger was delicious and the sweet potato fries served with barbeque sauce for dipping were out of this world. A juke box was playing. I nursed my meal, chewing slowly, and dragging out the time. It was a time of relaxing and unwinding for me. I didn’t want to see anyone that I knew, and I didn’t.

The next day, when the mailman came, he rang the door bell.

“Reverend Sterner, I have a piece of mail for you that requires your signature.”

After I had signed a green card, he gave me a letter from the Circuit Court. The papers inside informed me that I was being sued by Thomas Sterner and Matthew Sterner for the wrongful death of Laura Claudette Sterner and the mishandling of the funds in her estate. Until a judgment has been made, the Court has frozen all my assets. That explains why the bank called.

I called the church office and told the secretary that I had to take care of some business in town, but that I would be in the office before noon. I walked into town to the bank and went back to Accounting.

“Reverend Sterner, thank you for coming in. I wanted you to know that the bank received an order from the court freezing all your accounts. You won’t be able to write checks or withdraw money from any of your accounts or have access to your lock box until such time as the court rescinds its order or modifies it.”

“What about checks that I have written already?”

“Any check dated before we received the court order will be honored.”

“Thank you.”

Next I went to Graham Bilton’s office.

“Hello preacher, I started working on your job, but I am nowhere near being finished.”

“Graham, there is a new dimension to that job. I found out today that I am being sued for mismanaging Laura’s inheritance, so the work you are doing will eventually be evidence in court. Also, the court has frozen all my assets. I will have to pay you in cash. You’ll have to tell me a day or so ahead how much the job will cost.”

“It will be around $500. If you can’t come up with the money right away, I know you are good for it.”

“No, I’ll get it some way. I don’t believe in asking people to work and then putting off paying them.”

From there I went to the lawyer’s office. I asked to see Mr. Capon. He had drawn up the wills for Laura and me. He had urged us to make a Living Will at that time.

“Brother Sterner, I expect you are here to ask some questions about submitting Laura’s will for probate.”

“No, I haven’t got to that yet. Let me ask some other questions. No, first read these.”

I gave him the papers from the Circuit Court. He leaned back in his chair while he was reading. He reminded me of pictures that I had seen of Abraham Lincoln. He didn’t look like him in the face, but he was tall and slim and seemed awkward when he was sitting in a chair.

“Your son sure was busy while he was in town for his mother’s funeral. What are your questions?”

“The most immediate question is how am I going to live? I have less than $100 in my wallet. I don’t have a pantry full of food, in fact there is hardly any food at the house. If someone wants me to visit a family member in a hospital in Pine Bluff, Little Rock, or El Dorado, I have to jump in my car and go. My gas gauge is on ¼ full right now. I should take it to the gas station, but if I do it will take more than $50 to fill it up.

“Before I knew anything about this lawsuit, I took bills and cancelled checks to Graham Bilton relative to Laura’s inheritance. I asked him to audit the account that contains her inheritance. That is going to cost me $500. I was going to send his report to the four sons because at the dinner after the funeral both Tom and Matthew had challenged me. When Laura first received her inheritance, she told the boys that she was going to save it for them. That is why we put it into an account in Laura’s name alone with my name in case of death. Later, when she developed cancer, she decided to use the inheritance for medical expenses that the insurance didn’t pay. She was the only one who wrote checks on that account until this year. When she was getting too weak to write the checks, she gave me power of attorney to write checks on the account.

“As for the wrongful death – the night Laura died, I did not find her dead until the next morning. By then her body was cold and her limbs were stiff. Her hand was clutching the bell she used to call me at night and her mouth was wide open. Mrs. Koontz, one of her aides, came not long after I discovered Laura dead. I told her that Laura was dead and she shoved past me into the house and went to Laura’s room. When she saw her, she screamed. She ran out of the house. Then she began to tell all over town that Laura died because she was calling for help and ringing her bell, but that I wouldn’t come to help her.

“Laura’s doctor told me that she had lived a lot longer than he thought she would. All of her organs were affected. She had not been able to talk for several weeks or more, so she couldn’t have called for help. He said that her mouth was wide open because she was trying to get air but her diaphragm and lungs had stopped working. He said that even if she had managed to ring the bell, and I had run down the hall to her room, there was nothing I could have done to keep her from dying. The hospice nurse said the same thing. She said that even if a nurse had been there, there was a Do Not Resuscitate order in accordance with her own instructions in the Living Will.”

“It would appear, Reverend Sterner, that the facts are on your side, that furthermore you need a lawyer to use the facts to send your lawyer son back to Georgia with his tail between his legs. In the meantime, I don’t know the answer to your first question, ‘How am I going to live.’ The trial date is not until December 10. Since your son’s purpose seems to be to make your life miserable, he may even try to postpone the trial until later.”

“Will you represent me?”

“It would be an honor, Joshua.”

“I probably will not be in this town or state much longer. The church is asking me to leave.”

I was standing up and Mr. Capon unfolded himself from his chair to stand across from me. His jaw dropped and for a few moments he seemed stunned. When he recovered he said,

“Keep me informed of your whereabouts and how I can reach you.”

When I reached the church office, the secretary greeted me with a cheering smile. There were no messages. I called Rev. Sheetz at the Presbytery office and told him about the lawsuit and all my bank accounts being frozen.

“Joshua, is there any way that I can help you?”

“I am going to have to operate on cash until this is straightened out. I deposited this month’s pay into my checking account, but now I can’t get any of it out. I have less than $100 in my wallet and two weeks to go until my next pay. I have no food in the house. I think that the Presbytery has an emergency fund for ministers. If you could send me at least $500 in cash by FedEx overnight I sure would appreciate it. When the church pays me in the beginning of November, I’ll repay the money.”

“I’ll get on that right away. You certainly are being punched right and left. You are a modern day Job. The Devil is doing everything possible to defeat you. Keep looking up to Jesus and I’ll be holding you up in my prayers.”

I was relieved to know that I could manage for the time being. I was grateful to the Presbytery for helping me in this way. I had to plan what my next moves would be. I should begin prioritizing, packing, and throwing things away. I would pick out what was most important to me that I could take in the car with me. The things I wanted to keep but couldn’t take with me I would put into the storage unit where I had put the boxes of Laura’s belongings. The furniture I would sell to the second hand store for whatever they would give me for it. There wasn’t much furniture and it wasn’t too good.

I remembered what Nathaniel said about Laura writing to him every week and how he had appreciated it. I decided to write to him.

Dear son,

It was so good to see you and be with you even though it was under such sad circumstances.

I had a real uplifting experience last week. A man that I didn’t even know asked me to come to the hospital and pray for his wife. I did and walking out of the hospital I was certain that she was going to get better. The next week I had to go to the Emergency Room for a church member who had a heart attack. While I was there I went to see the woman I had prayed for. She was sitting up in bed, real happy, and said that she was going home the next day.

Nathaniel, I have decided to leave this church and this town. There are just too many sad memories. Wherever I go from here, when I die I want to be buried beside Laura. Please remember that and when the time comes don’t let your brothers change it.

Love,

Dad       

 

ESCAPE - Chapter 5

   Wednesday evening I went to the Church for the called Session meeting. After I had opened the meeting with prayer, I asked Mr. Fike what the purpose was for which the meeting was called.

   “Pastor, we are here to ask you to resign immediately. If you don’t, we are going to take a vote to fire you.”

   Before I could speak, Mrs. Alfritz, who was also an elder said, “The talk around town has made our church the object of scorn throughout the whole community. We all loved Laura. The thought that our pastor could be callous and unfeeling and let her die without making any effort to help her, without even getting out of bed, is just too horrible for words.”

   Mr. Bigelow, the treasurer, said, “Our offerings have gone down steadily these last couple years while you have had to spend so much time taking care of your ailing wife. Of course that was your chief responsibility. Our responsibility is to keep this church alive. The longer we keep you here as pastor, the worse the shape we are in.”

   Mrs. Carrington, a wealthy widow, said, “I understand that you will come into a sizeable sum of money now that Laura is gone. You really don’t need what we can pay you as pastor.”

   When everyone had spoken, I said, “In the Presbyterian Church, the pastor’s call is a three-way contract between pastor, congregation, and Presbytery. The call can be terminated in only two ways. The pastor can request that it be terminated, the congregation votes on whether they are agreeable to that or not. Or the congregation can vote to request that the pastor’s call be terminated, and the pastor says whether he agrees or not. In either case, if both the congregation and the pastor are in agreement, the Presbytery will agree. If either the congregation or the pastor do not agree, there has to be a Presbytery meeting. The pastor and the congregation’s elder representative each present their reasons. Then the Presbytery votes whether to dissolve the pastoral call or not.

   “In short, this meeting needs to call a congregational meeting for the purpose of deciding whether to request that the pastor’s call be dissolved. The meeting could be announced next Sunday and the congregational meeting could be held after service the following Sunday.”

   The Session voted to call a congregational meeting. I asked for a motion to adjourn. Then I closed the meeting in prayer.

   Thursday morning the church secretary called to say that one of the members, Mr. Wainwright had a heart attack and was in the hospital. I went to the hospital. Mr. Wainwright was still in the Emergency Room. Mrs. Wainwright was in the examining room with him.

   “Reverend Sterner, thank you so much for coming. Ralph is pretty woozy now. They gave him some shots. The doctor is consulting with a doctor in Little Rock to decide whether to transport him to the Heart Hospital or leave him here. I guess it will depend on what is wrong with his heart and how serious the attack was.”

   “Since they may come back in and get him ready to go, let’s have prayer now. Then after you know what is decided, call the church secretary and let her know. She can pass the message to me. I have to go to the Presbytery office in Ruston, Louisiana today or tomorrow.”

   I had prayer with the Wainwrights and concluded with the Lord’s Prayer. I heard Mr. Wainwright murmuring sounds in sync with the words of the Lord’s Prayer. He was trying to say it.

   Next I visited Mrs. Wrangle. She was sitting up in bed chatting cheerily with a nurse.

   “Oh, Reverend Sterner, I’m so glad to see you. The nurse was just telling me that I will probably go home tomorrow.  Isn’t that wonderful news? It was your prayer, you know? You really got through to God for me. I told my husband that we are going to start going to your church just as soon as I am able.”

   I had a prayer of thanksgiving with her ending with the Lord’s Prayer. Both she and the nurse joined in. From there I went to the church office. I called the Presbytery office and asked to speak to the Executive Presbyter, Rev. Joe Sheetz.

   “Joe, this is Joshua Sterner. I need to talk to you and I would prefer a face to face meeting. Could you spare an hour’s time this afternoon?”

   “Would two o’clock be all right?”

   “Yes, I can be there by then. Thank you.” 

   I spoke to the secretary,

   “Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Wainwright is still in the Emergency Room. They are deciding whether to transport him to the Heart Hospital or to keep him here. Mrs. Wainwright is supposed to call you here at the Church Office and leave a message about what they decide. If she does not call before you are ready to go home, please call the hospital and find out if he is there or has been transferred. Whatever you find out, leave a note on my desk. Any other messages or calls, leave a note on my desk. I have a meeting at the Presbytery office at 2 p.m. I don’t expect to return to here until 6 p.m. or later. Thank you.”

   “Reverend Sterner, I heard about the Session meeting last night. These people don’t realize what a hard working and godly man that they are tossing aside because of wicked, gossiping people. The Devil must be laughing.”

   The drive to Ruston was relaxing. I listened to classical music on the XM radio. The fall colors of the leaves was at its height. The sun was shining brightly. A smile crept onto my face. I thought that I heard Laura saying,

   “That’s right, Joshua, smile. Let the sunshine come back into your heart.”

   I arrived at the Presbytery office about five minutes early. There was a half pot of coffee on the stand beside the secretary.

   “Is it fresh?”

   “No, it’s nasty.

   “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go get a Coke.”

   I knew they kept soft drinks in the refrigerator in the kitchen. I found a Lime Diet Coke and walked back to the front. Joe Sheetz was waiting.

   “Joshua, come on into my office.”

   After I was seated across from him, he asked,

   “What is on your mind; what can I do for you?”

   “I’ll give you the short version first, then fill in the details. Laura died last Thursday; her funeral and burial were on Sunday. On Wednesday night the Session had a called meeting and asked me to leave. There will be a congregational meeting Sunday after next to request that the pastoral call be dissolved by Presbytery.

   “Here are some of the details. Seven years ago Laura received an inheritance from her uncle of $250,000. Several months later she discovered that she had cancer. Over the years most of that inheritance has been spent on medical expenses and hiring aides to help her. There were a couple years when the cancer was in remission, in fact she was told that she was cancer free. Then it came back with a vengeance. All this year she has been getting weaker, then she became bedridden. 

   At first I hired aides for a couple hours three days a week. That increased to aides seven days a week, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Three and a half months ago, Laura’s doctor told me that her condition was terminal, that her pain required morphine, and that he was recommending hospice care. I signed up for hospice care and a nurse has come to the home at least twice a day to check on Laura and to administer the morphine.

   “Laura had a schoolmarm’s bell which she rang whenever she wanted something or needed help. At night, in bed, I would hear the bell and go to her room to see what she needed. I always had to get up one time a night and sometimes more. The night she died I slept all through the night. When I awoke I ran down the hall to her room. She was dead. Her body was cold and her limbs were rigid. Her mouth was wide open and her hand was clutching the schoolmarm’s bell.

   “Her aide came at 9 a.m. When I told her that Laura was dead, she shoved past me and went into Laura’s room. When she saw the body, she screamed. She left, but she went around town saying that Laura had called for help and rang the bell, but I didn’t go to help her and that is why she died. 

   When Laura’s doctor heard from his nurses that this gossip was going around town like wildfire, he left his office and came to me. He told me that Laura had lived longer than he expected, that I had taken excellent care of her, that she was too weak to call for help her diaphragm and lungs had probably quit and she was trying to get air. Moreover, he said that even if I had found her not being able to breathe, there was a Do Not Resuscitate order as part of her Living Will. Hospice would not have sent an ambulance.

   “Later the gossip was expanded to say that I let her die so I could get her inheritance.

   “I think the Church’s action is partly compassion fatigue. Laura was sick with cancer and then apparently recovered. A couple years later she came down with cancer again, this time much more severe, and she didn’t recover. The church is reacting to the gossip going around town. Also, the church has diminished in members and income. There might be other reasons for this, but the easiest explanation is to say that the pastor has been too occupied with his sick wife.”

   “What do you want to do? You have been in that town for ten years. This flap of vicious gossip is momentary. When the excitement dies down, what remains is that you are a man of integrity, a hardworking and caring pastor, an outstanding preacher. Those qualities would help you build up that church again. Do you want to stay? Can you forgive the church and the town? Do you need to escape from a place that daily reminds you of Laura’s last painful years? I’m going to be at that congregational meeting. You may have more support than you realize.”

   “That congregational meeting is the main reason that I have come to you for advice. My pride moves me to make someone from the congregation make a motion to ask me to leave. Then if I have supporters they might speak up. In the vote I would find out how many want me to stay. My desire for peace in the church says that I should ask for my pastoral call to be dissolved and ask the congregation to concur with my request. I could give them as a reason that my grief is so great that I don’t think I can do an adequate job as pastor. That way even my supporters would support the motion out of sympathy for me. If I make the congregation ask me to leave, even if the motion is defeated, those who want me to leave will then leave themselves.”

   “You are a wise and humble man, Joshua.”

   I drove back with Joe’s words going through my mind. As I drove into town it was going on six o’clock. I stopped at the Subway shop and bought a twelve inch sub sandwich. I went into the church office long enough to pick up my messages.

   When I reached home, I unwrapped the sub sandwich and got a glass of cranberry juice from the refrigerator. There were messages to call Mr. Fike and Mrs. Alfritz. Mr. Wainwright had been moved to the Arkansas Heart Hospital. After I ate, I lay on the sofa and watched a couple episodes of “Doc Martin” that had been recorded by the DVR.

   The congregational meeting would be on Hallowe’en – how ironic. That was also Reformation Sunday. I decided to start this Sunday a series of sermons on the five solas of the Reformation, sola Scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia, solus Christus, and soli Deo Gloria. I did a search on the internet and found a half dozen articles that I could use as background material for the sermons. I printed them out. I noticed that I didn’t have any more ink cartridges. I ordered three.

   The next day I went into the office. I returned the calls from Mr. Fike and Mrs. Alfritz but neither one answered the phone. I began working on the sermon for Sunday, “Sola Scriptura”.

   Mrs. Wainwright called and said that her husband wasn’t doing too well. She asked me to please come to see him. I told her that I would. I saved my work to a memory stick so that I could continue my sermon at home.

   The drive to Little Rock was as far but not as pleasant as the drive to Ruston. I arrived at the Heart Hospital at about 2:30 p.m. That was a blessing from God because the visiting times are noon, 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. Mrs. Wainwright met me.

   “They are going to operate tomorrow morning. The surgeon said that he did not want to wait until Monday.”

   “Will you please call me as soon as you know something. Here is my home phone number, and here is my cell phine number.”

    Mr. Wainwright was sedated. I prayed for him and for the surgeon and for the nurses who would be helping. I concluded with the Lord’s Prayer.

    I returned home about 6 o’clock. After a supper of soup, left over piece of the sub sandwich, and hot tea, I went back to work on the sermon.

ESCAPE - Chapter 4

   Nathaniel and I went to a Mexican restaurant for supper. From there we went to the funeral parlor. It was 6:45 p.m., fifteen minutes before the time for public viewing and the parking lot was filled. When Nathaniel and I went into the viewing room, Matthew and Traci were having a row with the funeral director’s assistant. The assistant, Mr. Tomblin, is an older man. His own wife had died less than a year ago. He is rotund with a flushed face, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He was fidgeting nervously.

   “Why is my mother lying in a metal casket that looks like a war surplus ammunition box? I won’t stand for this. I will not have the people of this town come to see her laid out in a tin can. Take this casket out of here and when you come back, you had better have her in something that looks like fine wooden furniture. Don’t let people come in here until you do.”

   “But sir, that is the coffin your father chose when he made the arrangements for the funeral.”

   “That cheapskate doesn’t want to spend any more money than he has to. I suppose he is the one who told you that we didn’t need a family limousine for the day of the funeral. Well, I am not going to drive myself to the funeral home and the cemetery in a rental car like I was going to Walmart. There had better be a limousine to pick up five adults and two children at the motel tomorrow. Now, roll that scrap metal box out of here and bring my mother’s body back to this room in something we won’t be ashamed for people to see. GO!!”

   I went into the little room off the viewing room where there were some chairs and a coffee pot with foam cups. I sat down in a chair and buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably. I was embarrassed that Matthew would talk that way to a man I had known all the years we had lived in this town. I knew that the man could not move a body by himself, that the body and clothes would all have to be straightened again after it was put in another coffin. I was humiliated that one of my sons would change the arrangements that I had made.

   I was angry because Laura and I had discussed the topic of funerals and the probability that one of us would have to arrange a funeral for the other. We agreed that too much money was spent on a dead corpse in a box that was going to be buried in the ground. The real Laura was now absent from the body and present with the Lord. To spend a couple thousand dollars more on a wooden casket is vanity and a violation of the values Laura and I had shared throughout our life together. On top of it all, Matthew wouldn’t be paying for the fancy casket and family limousine. I would.

   Nathaniel put his hand on my shoulder.

   “Don’t cry for that jerk, Dad. Cry for Mom.”

   Philip and Molly arrived and wanted to know why the people were being kept outside and where was the body. I didn’t feel like telling them. I just shrugged my shoulders and buried my face and let myself cry for Laura, for losing dear Laura.

   When they brought Laura’s body back into the viewing room, it was in a wooden casket with inlaid wood and trimmed with gold handles and hardware. “Please, Lord, don’t let it be real gold or even gold plating.” Traci inspected the coffin. Then, with a look of satisfaction, she left.

   Molly lifted Billy and then Polly up so they could see Mamaw Laura. Then she left with them. I sat with our sons in chairs across from the coffin. Matthew looked pleased with himself. Tom was smirking. Philip and Nathaniel put up a brave front. As the people walked by us, many said things to us, but I didn’t hear or it didn’t register in my consciousness. Some of them pointedly walked by me and spoke only to the boys. One mean-spirited woman from my church, Mrs. Grimsley, actually said to me, “Well, are you satisfied?”

   About 8:15 Nathaniel had all that he could stand. He stood up and stomped out, shoving people out of his way. The people kept pouring in and the funeral home decided to stay open until 9:30 p.m. I wanted to believe that so many came to the viewing because of their regard for Laura. I feared that the real reason was curiosity created by the gossip. I was grateful when it was over. 

   When I came into the house, Nathaniel was not there. I guessed that he was out walking through the streets of the town. I left the door unlocked for whenever he would come in. I went to the bedroom, undressed, and lay in the bed continuing the sobbing that had been interrupted. All that had happened and all that I was feeling made me need Laura to talk with me. I cried even more for the dear one I had lost.

   The next morning the sanctuary was filled to capacity for the worship service. In the bulletin were the notice about refreshments after the service, and the notice about the funeral. Also in the bulletin was the notice of a called Session meeting on Wednesday at 7 p.m. I had not been informed and had not agreed to the calling of a special Session meeting. Strictly speaking it was not legal without my consent. Also, a called Session meeting is for a specified purpose, but that purpose was not stated in the bulletin.

   As I began the sermon, the excitement of what had been occurring during my visit with Mrs. Wrangle returned to me. I preached about the power of God to save our souls and to save us from our sins. I preached about the power of God to heal even when every medicine has failed. I quoted Hawkeye in a M*A*S*H episode when he answered Father Mulcahey’s question, “Do you believe God answers prayer?” “I don’t know, Father, I do know that sometimes I do things in the operating room that I really don’t know how to do.” Yes, the Son of man has come with healing in His wings. Then why doesn’t He heal everyone who prays to Him? The answer is that for some He exercises an even greater power, the power over death itself. I’m sure my wife Laura prayed many, many times for God to heal her of cancer. For His own purposes and glory, God’s answer was, No. BUT, the moment Laura died, she was taken up to glory to receive the inheritance God has kept for her and the home that Jesus has been preparing for her. She is now free of pain. God has wiped away all tears from her eyes. “O death, where is thy sting; O grave, where is thy victory?”

   After the service I went to the Fellowship Hall. A lot of people said things to me, but I was so drained from the service and sermon that I really didn’t know what they were saying. One woman’s remarks cut me to the quick.

   “I think it was very poor taste for you to bring your wife’s sufferings and death into the sermon.”    I was looking around the Fellowship Hall for Mr. Fike. I wanted to ask him about the irregular manner in which the special Session meeting was called. I also wanted to know the purpose of the meeting so that I could be prepared, but I did not see him.

   I left and went home. Nathaniel wasn’t there. I took a couple slices of cold pizza from the refrigerator and fixed a cup of instant coffee. After that repast, I went back to the bedroom, undressed because I still had to wear my suit to the funeral, and took a nap. I forgot to set the alarm. I was awakened by Nathaniel shaking me.

   “Get up Dad, it is only half an hour until the funeral.”

   I hurriedly dressed and ran out to the car. I had my Bible and service book with me. The organist had already started playing the prelude when I entered the sanctuary. I looked for Philip.

   “Did you ask your brothers who wanted to speak of their memories of your Mom?”

   “All but Tom want to speak. Tom says he would be too nervous. Hard to believe that of a lawyer.”

   I wished now that I had asked some other minister to conduct the funeral and burial service. I began the service by reading the obituary. I had an opening prayer. Then I read the verses on death and the resurrection that Laura had chosen. Next was the congregation singing Psalm 23.

   At that point I invited Philip to come forward and share some memories of his mother. Philip emphasized that his mother’s life goal was to make a happy home and raise children in an atmosphere of love. Matthew emphasized that their mother was the only one they could go to because their father was always so busy with work. Nathaniel said that his father and mother centered their lives and the family on Jesus Christ. He said that his mother had said repeatedly that she chose their father because she wanted to live with a man who was kind and good. He also recounted that his mother wrote to him every week until she could no longer do so.

   The remainder of the service was a blur. At the cemetery I went through the prayers and committal of the body to the grave. It was almost more than I could endure. Philip came up to me afterward and told me that we were going to the Italian restaurant in the next town and that the reservation was for 7 p.m. When Matthew found out that the restaurant did not serve drinks on Sunday, he was more than a little bit annoyed. Traci put a fifth of vodka in her purse.

   The food was not anything special. It was apparent that the eatery’s main attraction was that it served drinks the other days of the week. The fact that there weren’t many people in the restaurant seemed to substantiate that opinion. After the meal, Matthew stood up.

   “Okay, I won’t beat around the bush. Most of us have to head back to our homes tomorrow. Before we leave, I’d like for Dad to tell us what is in Mom’s will. I believe he is the executor of the will.”

   This caught me by surprise and I was annoyed. We had just put Laura’s casket into the ground several hours ago and here are her sons asking to know what she left them in her will. I stood up.

    “Sons, in your mother’s will it says that if I die before she does, then everything she owns is to be divided equally among her sons. If she dies first, whatever is in both our names – car, bank accounts, etc. goes to me. Whatever is her sole possession is to be divided equally among her sons. For all intents and purposes that means her inheritance from her Uncle Lyle. When she received that inheritance it amounted to $250,000. Right now it amounts to a little more than $30,000. It was her decision to use that inheritance for medical expenses. There will undoubtedly be medical bills that will still be coming in for the next month or so.”

   Tom asked, “Didn’t you have health insurance?”

   “Yes, but all health insurance has deductibles and limits. Health insurance did not pay for the reconstructive surgery or the complications arising from it. The aides were not paid by health insurance. If we did not have that inheritance and only had my salary, the State might have paid some of the cost of aides. The inheritance disqualified us.”

   “Why didn’t you use some of your salary for medical bills and aides?”

   “It was your mother’s decision to use the inheritance. She said the Lord knew we would need a lot of money to fight the cancer and that is why He put it in Uncle Lyle’s heart to give her that money.”

   “Then why did she tell us when she received it that she was saving it for her boys?”

   “That was her intention and that is why it was deposited in an account with her name only. But she didn’t have cancer when she said it.”

   “You claim that $220,000 was spent on medical bills. Do you have any proof of that statement?”

   “Within the next week or so I will send you each an itemized list of the medical bills paid out of Laura’s inheritance.”

   “I’ll be waiting.”

   “So will I.”

   “Since you think that I am so wealthy, I’ll pick up the bill on the way out. Have a safe journey home. I’ll continue praying for you as Laura and I did each evening as long as she was able to do so.”

   With that I walked out to the car. Nathaniel followed me home. We rode in silence.

   Nathaniel left early the next morning. We shook hands and he left. I did not hear any more from Matthew, Traci, or Tom. 

   Philip, Molly, Billy, and Polly came in mid-morning. Molly went through Laura’s closet and took some winter scarves, and some mittens. From her dresser drawer she took some fancy handkerchiefs. She asked if she could go through our photographs and take some of the photos of Laura. I told her to take what she wanted but to leave some for me.

   Later that day I tried to telephone Mr. Fike, but I received no answer. The same thing was true when I called on Tuesday. Monday is my day off. Tuesday I called Diane Johnson, the church secretary and told her that I would not be coming into the office Tuesday or Wednesday, but that if anyone came to the office and wanted to see me or if there were any phone messages to call me at home and I would either come to the office or answer the phone call from my home.

   I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday packing Laura’s clothes and other belonging into large plastic garbage bags which I then put into storage boxes. As I was going through her things I was looking for receipts. In a drawer in her dresser I found a 9x12 envelope labeled “Uncle Lyle’s Bequest”. Bingo. Inside she had checks and receipts in date order. I carried the envelope to my desk and put it in a drawer.

    I rented a storage unit in town and stacked the boxes of her belongings in it. I took what jewelry she had, including her engagement ring, and put them in our lock box at the bank.

ESCAPE - Chapter 3

     I went out to my car and drove to the hospital. I found the room number for Deborah Wrangle and went up to that floor. As I passed the nurses’ station, a nurse stopped me.

    “Where are you going?”

    “I would like to see Deborah Wrangle.”

    “Are you on the list?”

    “What list?”

    “There is a list of people who can visit her. Are you her minister?”

    “I don’t know where she goes to church. Her husband called about an hour ago and asked me to come to the hospital and visit her.”

    The charge nurse hesitated. A nurse behind her said,

    “Let him go ahead. He has been a minister in this town for years. He’s honest. If he says Mr. Wrangle called, probably Mrs. Wrangle asked for him. Goodness knows that she needs help from above.”

    The scene in Mrs. Wrangle’s room looked all too familiar. She looked just like Laura had looked for the past week or so. My stomach tightened and my breath caught. How can I endure this? I am only human. I need to be grieving for Laura. Instead I am faced with a rerun of her agony. Mr. Wrangle greeted me with a nervous handshake and a tortured look on his face. I approached the bed and Mrs. Wrangle’s eyes brightened.

    “Thank you for coming”, she whispered.

    I read a Psalm and then placed my hand on her hand and prayed. My heart poured out as I prayed. I believe that the Lord directed me there by His gracious providence. I felt my soul stir with the conviction that He intended to work powerfully in her and that He wanted the Wrangles to know that it was the Lord who had worked. I left the hospital convinced that she was going to begin improving. I don’t remember ever feeling that way after a hospital visit.

    It was lunch time. I stopped at the Chinese restaurant and ordered a meal to take out. The clerk took my money, handed me a takeout container, and pointed to the buffet.

    At home after I ate, I bolted to my study. The visit to Mrs. Wrangle had inspired my sermon for Sunday. I wouldn’t look for an old sermon. There was a sermon that was fresh and was overflowing from my heart. I sat at my desk and the message seemed to pour onto the computer screen. I have a Bible program that I run simultaneously with the word processing program. As Bible verses would come to mind, I would use the search function in the Bible program. When I found the reference, then I would paste the verse into the sermon. 

    The sermon that formed itself was “THE POWER OF GOD”. I had three main points God’s Power To Overcome Sin, God’s Power To Overcome Pain and Suffering, and God’s Power To Overcome Death. I was at the computer for over five hours, but at the end of that time I had a sermon for Sunday. I printed it out and put the pages in my Bible on the desk.

    It was dark outside when I left the study and went to the kitchen to make a cup of instant decaf coffee. While I was drinking it, the phone rang.

    “Dad, this is Philip. We just checked in to the motel. Have you had supper yet?”

    “Hey, Philip, it is so good to hear your voice. No, I haven’t eaten yet. I worked all afternoon on my sermon for Sunday. I had just finished and came out of the study to make myself a cup of coffee.”

    “Good. We’ll pick up a couple pizzas on the way and be at your place in a half hour or so.”

It was reassuring to hear Philip’s voice and to know that he was in town. Philip, the first born. The Bible speaks of the significance of a man’s first born son, the strength of his youth. I had always thought that if I had big trouble that Philip is the one that I would turn to for help.

    When Philip and Molly came through the front door, carrying sleepy Billy and Polly in their arms, my loneliness was swept away. I showed Phil and Molly back to my bedroom so they could lay Billy and Polly on the bed. Both of them went to sleep immediately or maybe they were already asleep.

    We went to the dining room table and opened the pizza boxes. I retrieved my coffee cup and asked if they wanted tea, coffee or soda. They both opted for cold water. I retrieved a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator. After we had eaten our fill of pizza, we retired to the living room.

    “Dad, we need to talk about a looming problem. As soon as the motel clerk saw my name, she asked if I was related to Reverend Sterner. She then proceeded to tell me what she thought I ought to know. She said that the preacher’s wife was calling for help and ringing her bell, but the preacher just slept on through it, or maybe deliberately didn’t help her because he wanted her inheritance. I know that she is repeating malicious gossip, but we have to decide how we are going to deal with it.”

    “Philip, I have heard part of the gossip. This the first time I have heard Laura’s inheritance added to the gossip. Here are the facts. I slept soundly through the night when Laura died. I found her with her mouth wide open and her hand clutching the schoolmarm bell. Her body was cold and stiff. Mrs. Koontz, one of Laura’s aides came soon after that and when I told her that Laura was dead, she shoved past me and went into Laura’s room. She began to tell all over town that Laura had cried out for help and rung her bell for help but that either I was sleeping through all that noise, or else I wasn’t even in the house.

    “When Dr. Rumfeldt heard of that gossip, he left his office and came here to see me. He told me that Laura was much too weak to cry out for help, that she was probably trying to gasp for air, but her diaphragm and lungs had ceased to function. He said that even if she had rung the bell and I had come to help her, there was nothing I could have done.  Patsy Godwin, the hospice nurse, said that if I had called them, they could not have sent an ambulance. As part of Laura’s Living Will there was a Do Not Resuscitate order.

    “As for the inheritance: Of the original $250,000 there is slightly more than $30,000 left. The rest of it was spent on medical bills and paying for aides to be with her.”

    “Dad, I believe you. I am warning you that gossip is vicious and you are going to be hurt. You don’t deserve that, especially when you are hurting over Mom’s death.”

    Molly came and together with Phil hugged me.  They went to the bedroom for the children, put on their coats and hats, and left to go back to the motel. I put the remaining pizza slices in baggies and placed them in the refrigerator. Then I threw the pizza boxes in the trash. I locked the front door, turned out the lights, and went back to the bedroom.

**********

    At the motel Tom, Matthew, and Traci were venting. They heard the same story that Phil heard when they checked in. The three had driven to a neighboring town to an Italian restaurant that served mixed drinks with the meals. They had had drinks on the plane, had taken on more alcohol at supper. Now an open bottle of single malt Scotch was on the table in Matthew and Traci’s room.

    Tom - “We’re not going to let him get away with it. All the time when we were growing up, he was always too busy with his church work. It was Mom who was always there for us. Now we hear that Mom died because he neglected her just like he neglected us.”

    Matthew - “Not only so, but Mom told me soon after she got that inheritance that it was going to be for the children after she was gone. That inheritance belongs to us, not to him. I’m going to get it if I have to wring it out of him.”

    Traci – “With one of you being a lawyer and the other an accountant, you could really make life uncomfortable.”

    Tom and Matthew clinked their glasses together.

**********

    I went to bed and prayed that I would be able to sleep. A verse from the Psalms darted about in my mind. It says something about the bread of sorrow and then “…He gives His beloved sleep.” Almost as soon as I shut my eyes I was asleep. In my sleep I dreamed of Laura. I dreamed of happier times, of Laura smiling, laughing, and giggling.

    Saturday after breakfast and personal devotions, I checked my clothes to be sure that I had enough white shirts ironed for the public viewing this evening, the worship service tomorrow, and the funeral service. I had my sermon for tomorrow. I tried to plan Laura’s funeral service. I had the Scripture passages that Laura had asked to be used in her funeral and the hymns she had picked. I knew from long experience that family members often wanted to participate. One or more of our sons might want to speak about his memories of his mother. I doubted if any of them would want to sing or read a poem.

    The door bell rang. It was Mrs. Alfritz, president of the women’s society at Church.

    “Mrs. Alfritz, it is so good of you to stop by. I can’t invite you to come in because I am here alone and I don’t think it would be proper. It would look unseemly even though it is not. We can talk out here on the porch.”

    “Pastor, I just wanted you to know that the women’s society will have refreshments in the Fellowship Hall following the worship service tomorrow for the congregation to express their condolences to the family members. Please announce that in the service tomorrow.”

    “That is so gracious and thoughtful of you ladies, Mrs. Alfritz. Please express my appreciation to them.”

    She smiled and retreated down the steps.

    That brought another thought to my mind. I called the motel and asked for Philip.

    “Philip, this is Dad. After the funeral we will go out to Hazelwood Presbyterian Church for the burial. By the time that is over it will be close to 6 p.m. It might be nice for the whole family to go to some restaurant and have supper together. Would you get together with Tom and Matthew, find out where they would like to go and then make reservations at the restaurant for us? They might have a private room that we could use.”

    “Sure, Dad, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll get right on it.”

    “While you are talking to them, find out if any or all of you want to have a chance to share your memory of your Mom during the funeral service.”

    “I know that I do.”

    “Thank you, Philip. Tell Molly that while she is here, if there is anything that was Laura’s that she would like to have, I’m sure Laura would like her to have it. Laura loved Molly like a daughter. She would want Laura to remember her.”

    “We aren’t leaving until Tuesday. Monday we can come over and discuss that.”

    I went out for a walk. I knew I should be at the house, but I just had to walk off all the tension and all the mixed emotions that had become tangled up in my mind. I wanted to grieve for Laura, but it seemed like there was a crowd of people conspiring to prevent me from grieving and feeling the loss of someone I loved very deeply.  I walked and walked until I was out of breath and becoming weak. When I returned to the house I ate a bagel and then fell asleep on the couch.

    I was awakened by a loud banging on the door. It was Nathaniel.

    “Nathaniel, it is so good to see you. How are you?”

    “Well, coming here I was just sad, and feeling bad for you. I know how much you loved Mom. When I got to the motel some flip mouthed broad began to tell me a bunch of vicious gossip about Mom’s death before I had even registered. I told her that if she was a man I would punch her in the face. As it was, I wasn’t going to stay in a motel that hired witches. With that I turned around and left the motel. If it is all right with you, I’ll crash on your sofa the next two nights.”

ESCAPE - Chapter 2

   The following year we decided to spend one week visiting with each of our sons and their families. We went to visit Philip first. Laura and Molly spent most of the time talking, and working in the garden and kitchen. I spent as much time as I could with the grandchildren. Billy and Polly both have small horses. They love to ride. Billy was trying to learn to lasso. He practiced on me. Polly is shy. She would work for a long time making a daisy chain necklace or hollyhock dolls and then would bring them to me for my approval and praise.

   When we went to visit Nathaniel, he was not able to sit still for long. He took us sightseeing most of the time we were with him. He put us in a motel and took us to eat in cafes and restaurants. We never saw his quarters. After several days he told us that he would be out on a field problem for about a week. We left and decided to go to Mobile, Alabama to sightsee for the rest of Nathan’s week.

   From Mobile it was an easy drive to Atlanta, Georgia where Thomas is a lawyer. Tom is shorter than the rest of his brothers. He is thin and wiry. Tom’s wife Ofelia is a Cuban-American. Her father was a lawyer in Cuba before Castro took over. After the Communist takeover, he had to work as a plumber’s assistant. They escaped to America when Ofelia was twelve. She went to high school and college in America. Ofelia is a very attractive woman. She has dark hair, dark eyes, and an attractive body. 

   Ofelia is a fervent Catholic believer and has insisted on their children being raised in the   Catholic Church and going to Catholic schools. Tom doesn’t attend the Catholic Church; he no longer attends any church. They have three daughters Claudia, Mariela, and Elena. Tom had wanted one of his daughters to be named Laura, but Ofelia refused because Laura isn’t Catholic. Our visit there was uncomfortable. The girls sensed their mother’s disapproval of us and were polite but not open and warm toward us. We had gone to the wedding and met Ofelia and her parents. Tom and Ofelia had never visited, so it was the first time the girls met us.

   Our son Matthew lives in Charlotte, North Carolina where he is an accountant. Matthew is the image of a successful business man. His suits and shoes look expensive. Matthew and his wife belong to a country club where he plays golf and his wife plays tennis. His wife Traci comes from a wealthy family and she had been a debutante. She is very attractive and dresses like a fashion plate. Traci was very warm and friendly to us but somewhat condescending. Their two boys, Frank - ten years old and Rudolf - eleven are rough and ready. We all went from Charlotte to the Outer Banks and stayed in a house Traci’s family owns. I enjoyed going to the Wright Brothers museum and to the lighthouses with Matthew and the boys. Laura and Traci visited the ornamental garden and went shopping.

   It was a tiring trip and we were glad to come back home. Laura had a garden that summer. It was her last year of happy memories. The next year her cancer returned.

   We went back to the A.D. Anderson Clinic in Houston. The doctors there told us that the cancer had metastasized. They had an experimental treatment which they tried. At first there seemed to be improvement, but it did not have any lasting effect. We returned to Arkansas. Laura tried to keep going. Everyone had some suggestion they had read about or a relative had tried. She had dark circles around her eyes. She lost weight and didn’t have an appetite. Still she kept trying to go on. She would put clothes in the washer and then sit down to rest. Sometimes food would burn on the stove because she just didn’t have strength to get up and go into the kitchen to turn off the stove.

   It reached the point where she couldn’t get out of bed. I signed up for an aide to come three times a week for two hours. As the cancer progressed she had more and more pain. The doctor prescribed pain pills. I gave those to her myself. I didn’t trust the aides. I had heard stories of pain pills being stolen from patients by aides who would sell them. Gradually I had to have aides to spend more time until they were there every day from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Even with the help of aides it was hard for me to keep up my work as pastor. It made it harder for me that every member I visited wanted to talk about Laura.

   In the beginning of July, Laura’s doctor, Dr. Rumfeldt said to me,

“In my opinion Laura’s condition is terminal. There is no more treatment for it. All that we can do now is keep her comfortable. Her pain has reached the level that she needs morphine. That has to be administered by a nurse. The nurse will teach you to inject the morphine, but that will only be necessary in unusual circumstances. Call the Delta Hospice Center. Tell them that I am authorizing hospice care for her. They will come to your house, explain their services and have you sign the necessary papers. I want you to understand that in authorizing hospice care, I am certifying that her condition is terminal and that she only has a matter of months to live. I’m sorry Reverend Sterner.”

   That was less than four months ago. The disease continued to eat away at her body and spirit. She was in pain and miserable all the time. She could barely speak and her mind could not compose what she wanted to say. Only her eyes spoke the depths of what she could not say audibly.

   The door bell rang. I went to the door. It was the hospice nurse Patsy Godwin. Patsy is quite chubby. She is always dressed neatly and has her nails done every week. Since it is near Hallowe’en, today she has her nails painted like little jack o’ lanterns.

   “Reverend Sterner, I am so sorry for your loss. I want to wash the body. Then I will collect our equipment. Meanwhile, you can be gathering up Laura’s medications, especially the morphine and other narcotics. I will give you a copy of the inventory of equipment I collect and a list of the medications and their amounts that you return. I will give you signed copies and you will have to sign my copies. Keep them in a safe place. If there is any question later on about either the equipment or the medications, you will have proof of what you returned.”

   I went into my study and got the medicines from a locked container. I returned to the living room and placed them on the coffee table. Patsy made several trips to her car carrying medical equipment from Laura’s room. In about a half hour she came into the living room. She had a form which listed all of Laura’s medicines. She counted each pill or capsule. She counted the number of vials of morphine and estimated the amount that remained in one vial that was half full. She signed both forms and asked me to sign them. Then she gave me a copy of each.

   “You are a preacher and I’m sure you would be able to say something comforting if you were in my place. All I can say is that I’d better not say any more or I’ll start crying. I’m sorry to say goodbye to Laura. She was so sweet.”

   She left the house with tears in her eyes.

   No more than ten minutes later Dr. Rumfeldt came to the house.

   “Rev. Sterner I left my office for a few minutes to come here to see you personally. I have a lot of respect for you. I have seen dozens of preachers come and go in this town. You are one of the best. The reason I left my office is that my nurse told me that gossip started by Mrs. Koontz has spread like wildfire. She has told it around town that Laura was screaming for help and ringing her bell, but you slept through it or maybe weren’t even home. She is telling that Laura died because you didn’t come to her aid. 

   "I want you to know that Laura wasn’t strong enough to scream. Her mouth was open because she was trying to breathe, but couldn’t. She reached for the bell, but died before she could ring it. You would have woke up if she had rang that bell. You have been very faithful in caring for her. I know you are going to be hurt by this gossip. That is why I am here to tell you that I don’t think she called out or rang the bell. If she had done both and you had run to her room, there is nothing you could have done to save her. She lived a lot longer than I expected. You did all that you could. I hope you can find comfort and peace in that.”

   The coroner came shortly after Dr. Rumfeldt left. He was here such a short time that I didn’t catch his name and I don’t remember what he looked like. All I remember is that he said the cause of death was “Cancer resulting in multiple organ failure.” I called the funeral home and about an hour later they came to pick up the body. They told me that I could come down to the funeral home at my convenience to make the arrangements.

   Next, I called Mr. Fike, the Clerk of Session at the First Presbyterian Church. I told him that Laura died, that I thought the funeral would be Sunday afternoon at 4 p.m. at the Church. I asked him to have that notice put in the bulletin and to notify the other members of the Session.

“Sure Preacher Sterner. I sure am sorry to hear about Laura. Too bad you slept through it all.”

The doctor was right. The gossip had spread like wildfire. The thing about gossip is that it doesn’t require any proof. It just has to sound exciting, alarming, or shocking.

   I had an obituary which I had prepared after Laura went into hospice care. I filled in the date of her death and that she had died at home. I put down Saturday 7 p.m. – 9 p.m. at the funeral home as the time for public viewing and Sunday 4 p.m. at First Presbyterian Church as the time for the funeral.

   I took the obituary to the newspaper. This was the first time I had been out of the house. I noticed many people looking at me strangely. The gossip…..

   Back home I picked up the phone and called Philip, Thomas, and Matthew. I called the Red Cross to get the sad news to Nathaniel. This was Thursday. I told them all that we would tentatively schedule the funeral for Sunday afternoon. If it would take Nathaniel longer than that to travel home, we would have to move the day forward.

  That evening I heard from Nathaniel:

   “Dad, I got your message from the Red Cross today. The Army is making arrangements for me to fly home. I’ll probably fly into Memphis and rent a car. You can expect to see me Saturday sometime. Dad, I’m going to miss Mom. Even after she was bedridden she wrote to me every week. Every week, Dad! You can’t imagine how much that meant to me. I love you, Dad. You are a straight shooter – always have been. Mom said time and again that she married you because you are good and kind.”

   I walked around the house. It felt empty.

   Later that evening I received calls from Philip, Tom, and Matthew. Philip and Molly were the only ones bringing their children. Tom was coming alone. Matthew and Traci were coming, but were leaving their boys with the grandparents. They would all be in town Friday evening except Nathaniel who wouldn’t arrive until Saturday.

   I must try to contact Laura’s relatives. I’ll look through Laura’s address book and see if she has any of them in it.

   That night I went to bed but I couldn’t sleep. Why wasn’t I awake like this last night? The doctor and the hospice nurse told me that there is nothing that I could have done. My mind could accept what they said, but my conscience accused me in words similar to the gossip that Avril Koontz is spreading around town. I tossed and turned all night. I don’t know whether I slept or not.

   Friday morning I fixed some instant oatmeal and instant coffee for my breakfast. I went to my study and had my private devotions. Afterward I dressed in a suit and went to the funeral home. The receptionist took me back to Mr. Yarmouth’s office. I gave him the clothes that Laura had picked out months ago. I tried to order a funeral that was modest in cost. I chose one of the “inexpensive” coffins and told him that we would not need a family limousine since we all have cars. I told him the viewing would be Saturday 7 – 9 p.m. and that the funeral would be in the First Presbyterian Church at 4 p.m. on Sunday. Laura and I bought two graves at the cemetery of Hazelwood Presbyterian Church out in the country ten miles from town. That is where she will be buried following the funeral. I gave him a life insurance policy on Laura for $15,000 to guarantee payment for the funeral.

   When I returned home, I went to my study and looked for an old sermon that I could use on Sunday. In the midst of my search the phone rang. It was Mr. Wrangle. He was at the hospital.

   “Preacher, I’m here at the hospital. My wife Deborah is doing poorly. I sure would appreciate it if you would come over and read some Bible and pray over her. The doctor is doing all that he can do. I think he could use some help.”

   My duty as a minister over rode any personal feelings or needs. I agreed to come right away.

ESCAPE - Chapter 1

   I awoke with a start. The sun was streaming in through the venetian blinds. I looked at the clock; it was 8:10 a.m. Jumping out of bed, I ran to Laura’s room. She was lying on her back, mouth open as if screaming, and her right hand gripping the bell. Her limbs were stiff and locked in place; her flesh was cold; she was not breathing. She literally had a death grip on the bell. The bell was a schoolmarm’s bell we had bought years ago in an antique store while on vacation in Maine. For years it had stood on the mantle among other collectibles. When Laura became bedridden, it became useful as a way for her to call for help. During the day time, if her aide or nurse was out of the room, she could call them with the bell. At night in bed I would hear the bell, even if I were asleep, and I would go down the hall to her room and find out what she wanted.

   I went back to my room and hurriedly dressed and shaved. I called the hospice offices. Laura’s nurse, Patsy Godwin, spoke to me.

   “I found Laura in bed stiff, cold, and not breathing. She is dead.”

   “Reverend Sterner, I am so sorry to hear that Laura has passed. I will be there soon to wash the body, collect her medications and equipment, and I will call the coroner. After he has pronounced her dead, you can call the funeral home to come for her body. As you know, according to Laura’s Living Will, there was a Do Not Resuscitate order. Even if she were not cold and stiff, if she just was not breathing, and if her nurse was right there, we couldn’t have tried to get her breathing again. Our role has been to keep her as comfortable and free of pain as possible. I will also call her physician. He may want to talk to you.”

   In the kitchen I toasted a bagel, put cream cheese on it and made a cup of instant coffee. While I was eating my breakfast, the door bell rang. It was Avril Koontz, one of Laura’s daytime aides.

   “Mrs. Koontz, I won’t be needing you from now on. Laura died in her sleep last night.”

   Screaming like a wounded person, she pushed past me and ran into Laura’s room.

   “Oh Mrs. Sterner, oh how can I bear to see you like this? It looks like you were screaming for help and ringing that bell and no one would come to help you. Did your husband go out and leave you by yourself, or was he sleeping so sound that he just didn’t hear you? I’ve been telling him for a long time that he needed to hire some aides to stay here at night. He just smiled and thanked me. Now, see what happened. A dear sweet woman has passed away because no one came when she needed help.”

   “As I said, we won’t be needing you. I’ll see you out now.”

   I took my bagel and coffee in the living room, sat on the living room couch, and tried to calm down after Mrs. Koontz’s outburst. I began thinking back over the years that Laura and I had been together. This year had been our thirty-fifth year of marriage.

   We met while I was in the Air Force. I wandered into a USO in downtown Syracuse, New York. There was a friendly young lady there who greeted me. We talked for a while and I told her that I was looking for a girl to take to the movies that evening.

   “That couldn’t be me. First, because we aren’t allowed to make dates with young men who come in here. Second, and more important, because I am married to a soldier who is in the Army overseas. Listen, you seem like a really nice guy, so  I am going to bend the rules somewhat. This is the phone number of a friend of mine, Laura. Call her up, tell her Madeline gave you her number. Ask her to go to the movies. Maybe she will.”

   Laura agreed to go out with me. I picked her up at her house. It was a shabby looking house in a run down neighborhood. Her clothes were old and tired but clean. She had such a sparkling personality and made me so happy to be with her that I never again noticed her clothes. We dated several times a week after that. She was a senior in high school, two years younger than me. I didn’t often have money to take her to movies or concerts. We mostly walked and talked about our hopes and dreams for the future. I wanted to go into the ministry, but I didn’t have the money to go to college. I was at Syracuse University, studying Russian on Uncle Sam’s nickel. I planned to continue my college work in night school courses while I was in the Air Force. When I finished college then I could go to seminary on the G.I. Bill. 

   Laura wanted to get married to a good, kind, Christian man, and be a wife and mother of three or four children. Her own childhood had been as an only child in a home where her father drank a lot, her mother was constantly complaining, and they both fought with each other almost every night. Laura had made it her goal in life to be happy, to be pleasant to others, and to make them happy. She dreamed of what it would be like for children to be raised by a father who was good and kind and a mother who was pleasant and happy.

   After my courses at the University and after Laura graduated from high school, we became engaged. I was stationed overseas for a year at a remote military post. We wrote to each other several times a week. When I returned, I was stationed outside Baltimore. We were married at South Presbyterian Church in Syracuse. We rented an apartment in a row house in Baltimore.      Laura worked in a dime store during the day while I was at work. Meantime, I continued my studies in night school. A year and a half after our marriage, our first son Philip was born. Then the same month that I graduated from University College, University of Maryland our second son, Thomas was born. I stayed in the Air Force just until the end of August after I received my college degree.

   Then I went to Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Between part time jobs, supply preaching, and the G.I.Bill I was able to support our family. Laura was very thrifty and creative in making our tiny income go a long way. She sewed curtains for our apartment, made quilts for the bed, gave herself permanents and gave me haircuts. A lot of the wives complained about how poor they had to live. Laura was always happy with every little blessing that came our way. At the end of my second year of seminary, Matthew was born. I wondered how we were going to afford a doctor and the hospital. Laura had become friends with one of the other wives who was a nurse. This young woman had taken a midwifery course. She agreed to deliver our baby at home. Everything went just like clockwork. I suppose if anything had gone wrong, the nurse would have been in big trouble.

   The last year of seminary all of the students were scouting out prospects for churches. Most wanted to go to a large church as assistant pastor. That was the accepted way to move on up to being pastor of a larger church in the next move. I started looking at the multiple church fields and eventually was called to a three church field in West Virginia.

   We moved into a big four bedroom manse that was at least a hundred years old. It was the beginning of summer. One of the church members came over and plowed up part of the back yard for a garden. He said, “We’ll watch how that garden does and judge what the Lord thinks of our new preacher.” Laura took that as a challenge. She went to the store and bought a trowel, a spade, a hoe, and a rake plus a dozen packages of seeds. Then she went to the library and borrowed a book on gardening. Mrs. Moffatt, a jolly older woman who always wore an apron and a sun bonnet, came by one day and saw Laura in the garden. She was on her knees with a trowel in one hand and the gardening book in the other. That story soon spread all over the community and quickly endeared her to the hearts of the people.

   Throughout my ministry she was truly a helpmate. She was supportive when I was discouraged or under attack in my work. She was a wonderful mother. She remembered and made a reality of her dream to raise children in a home that was pleasant and happy.  I hope that I was the sort of father she wanted for her children, one who was kind and good. She stayed at home, preferring to be with the children full time over having more money but less time with the children. After three years in that parish, we had a fourth son, Nathaniel. All of the boys grew up to be well adjusted adults and good parents.

   After the boys were grown and away from home, we used my month vacation time to travel. We went to the Grand Canyon and Pike’s Peak on one trip. Another year we went to Texas and visited Tyler, Austin, and San Antonio. Another year we went to Boston and then on up to Portland, Maine. Laura was so fascinated with the lighthouses that the following year we went to the Outer Banks of North Carolina and saw five lighthouses there. No matter where we went Laura found flower gardens. She especially enjoyed strolling leisurely through formal gardens.

   At the age of fifty two important things happened in Laura’s life. An uncle, her mother’s brother, died. He had no children of his own and had always looked on Laura as the daughter he never had. We had visited him once or twice when we were near his home in Rochester, New York. The last time had been when we vacationed in Boston and Maine. We stopped at his home on the way back. He had a nice house, but nothing ostentatious. When Lyle Ferguson died, he left his home and the bulk of his estate to charity. He left $250,000 to Laura. We put the money in the bank in Laura’s name with my name to receive it in case of death.

    About two months later Laura was diagnosed with breast cancer. The doctor recommended a radical mastectomy and Laura agreed. It was found that some cancer had spread to the lymph glands. We decided to use some of her inheritance to go to the A.D. Anderson Clinic in Houston. There the doctors made the same recommendation that Laura’s doctors in Arkansas made – chemotherapy in conjunction with radiation therapy. They told her she could get both at C.A.R.T.I. in Little Rock.

   The chemotherapy and radiation took a terrible toll on Laura. It made her sick. Her hair fell out. Her happy spirit was not only dampened, but nearly extinguished. I tried to cheer her up, but I never was as good at that as she was. In time the treatments had the desired effect. The doctors pronounced her “cancer free”. She decided to have reconstructive surgery. After all the pain and discomfort of that surgery, it failed and the implant had to be removed. She had post-surgical complications the second time and then developed cellulitis.

   It took almost a year for her to get her strength back, her hair to grow back, her happy spirit to begin to sing again. The people in the church rejoiced at her victory over the BIG C. I had taken so much time off taking Laura to treatments and helping her in the home that we decided to forego taking a vacation that year. I encouraged the boys to come for a visit now that their mother was feeling better. We have seven grandchildren but we rarely have seen them. Philip and his wife Molly came all the way from Montana with their two children.

   Philip is a proverbial country doctor in a small town. He is a “bear” of a man – strong, rough hewn. His brown hair is always tousled and his face is leathery, but he has Laura’s eyes that sparkle when he is happy or when he is mad. Of all of our boys he fits the description “good and kind”. Most of his patients live in the surrounding countryside. He goes to their home or ranch when he is needed in an emergency. Many times he has driven as far as his four wheel drive Jeep Cherokee will go, then borrowed a horse to go the rest of the way. Molly is from Montana, a real country girl. She is a little bit plump, has rosy cheeks and a ready smile. Laura loves Molly and Molly loves Laura. They are kindred spirits. Molly seems to radiate warmth. Philip jokingly calls her “my Burnside stove”. She was raised in a family of boys and her happiness is hearty.

   Nathaniel also came to visit that year. He has made a career of the Army Special Forces. Nathaniel is tall and stands or sits ramrod straight. His face is weathered, his jaws are rigid, and his eyes are steely and alert. Nathaniel has never married. He says that he doesn’t want to leave a wife and children at home while he is sent from one hot spot in the world to another. He has been in more combat than a person should ever have to see. That, I believe, is the real reason that he has never married. His eyes have a haunted look. One time at night he woke up screaming and yelling. He got up and went out walking for hours.

TWO PROCESSIONS

But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere.  For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things?  2 Corinthians 2:14-16 (ESV) 

This is one of my favorite passages in the Bible. It is so descriptive. We can see the parade passing by with our triumphant Lord Jesus Christ leading a procession of His followers. Necklaces of flowers adorn some of the heroes of the faith. Petals are tossed on the ground so the feet of the troops marching by crush them and release their aroma. There are shouts of acclaim from the bystanders and flourishes by the bands. Each contingent carries a banner identifying their unit.

At the end of the end of the ceremonial promenade are the captured enemy warriors and leaders. The end of this march will bring them to judgment – death, imprisonment, or slavery. The crushed petal waft the odor of promised death to them.

I thought of this passage of Scripture when I read of Dennis Rodman’s trip to North Korea with some other former professional basketball players from the United States. They will play an exhibition game with a North Korean baskertball team to honor the birthday of Kim Jong-Eun whom Dennis Rodman calls his “friend for life.” 

When the current dictator of North Korea, Kim Jong-Eun led the funeral procession for his father, the previous North Korean dictator, Kim Jong-Il, there were seven other men walking alongside the hearse with Kim Jong-Eun. Their position in this procession declared their power and importance. This was in December 2011.

Since that time three of these seven have lost their power and importance. U Tong-Chuk the head of State Security, and Ri Yong-Ho, a leader in the People’s Army, the Workers’ Party, and the Political Bureau were driven from power. Then several weeks ago, the most powerful man of the seven, Jang Sung-Thaek, the husband of Kim Kyoung-Hui (who is sister of the late Kim Jong-Il) along with Ri Yong-Ho and reportedly eighty others were executed. Said Kim Jong-Eun, “There is no room for two suns in the sky.”

Those of us who are following the Lord Jesus in His triumphal march to present the prizes of His conquests to the Father, do not have to fear that we will be sent to the rear of the procession, lose our position as children of God, and be damned to perdition.

I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand.  John 10:28-29 (ESV)