Aunt Sally loaded her basket with jars of homemade pickled peaches from her basement shelves. She felt a little "creaking" in her bones as she topped the last step and closed the basement door behind her. Lifting the basket to her counter she spotted Sarah standing at the screen door.
"Sarah Johnson, put your feet on in here. I am tickled pink to see your gingham pretty self. I'm a bit taken back that you just up and left and never said a pea turkey about your doin's. When I heard you went to Africa to be a missionary I about lost my breath. I was busting my buttons to know you was a'doing so well."
"It's good to be home Sally. I thought I would stop by for a cup of coffee."
"Honey I just made some good Hazelnut coffee. It will go just fine with a nice big piece of apple pie. Let me lay it out and you can tell me about your trip."
Aunt Sally swirled around the kitchen excited to have a visitor and wanting to hear all the news. Sarah sat down at the big oak table and nervously fidgeted with the napkin holder. She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on the surroundings. She respected Aunt Sally and hoped she wasn't about to disappoint her.
"While you were gone it was so wet Bubba was shootin' wild ducks in the parlor! I kept thinking about how you might like a little of that soaking where you were. I do hope things were good there."
Sarah shrugged and gave a half hearted, "Yea. Things were great. It was a wonderful trip." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Looking away from Aunt Sally she continued, "Yes. Definitely. A great trip."
Aunt Sally served the apple pie. Steam floated around the edges. "Did you just make this?"
"Of course, it's Thursday. That's apple pie day. There is nothing like having a special day every week for a fresh slice of pie. It's comforting."
Sarah smiled. Aunt Sally had a way of making the ordinary seem as if it could solve bigger problems.
Finally Aunt Sally plopped into her chair and began stirring sugar into her coffee. "Alright dearie, tell me what's going on. I suspect you've got a kink in your life."
Sarah cut a piece of pie but let it sit on the fork. She looked up at Aunt Sally and tried to smile but her mouth only quivered. Looking back at her plate tears started to form. "I don't know how to say this. I feel like I've let the entire church down. Everyone helped me go to Africa, but...I...well, it wasn't what I thought."
Aunt Sally took a big bite of pie as if nothing was wrong and smiled sweetly. "You didn't like it did you?"
"I wanted to, really I did. I prayed and prayed. The people were so nice and I do think I did some good while I was there, but I was miserable. I had to sleep in an awful place. Sleep nothing - I hardly slept at all. I kept thinking bugs were crawling on me and I'd get up and turn the light on just to be sure. The only place to bathe was in a Victorian style pot. And the food...it was awful and I kept wondering if I had been careful enough so I wouldn't get sick."
Sarah ended her outburst and lifted her fork to her face. Without taking a bite she lowered her arm and continued. "When I got home I spent two days thanking God for my bathroom. I like bubble baths. One day I spent four hours just soaking, crying and refilling the tub when the water got cold. Am I a mess or what?" She finally threw the piece of pie in her mouth and glared at Aunt Sally.
"Now let me get this straight. You thought God spoke to you about being a missionary, but when you got there you weren't so sure. You just don't feel cut out to do that and you're wondering what God's will really is?"
Sarah gulped her pie and reached for her coffee. "Yes! Exactly. What am I supposed to do now?"
"Well, darling, people been fussing about that one for years. I guess it did take me a pretty long spell to figure it out myself. I found out that God's will ain't as difficult as some people think. They get all fuzzed-up about this and that and think there's some kind of rule to follow in order to find some magical gift that God gives to people. I've known a few folks that did find that magical gift, but most of the time God puts his will into our heart the day we come along."
"So I've messed up 25 years?"
"No Darling, slow down." Aunt Sally reached for her hand. "Don't fly up the creek just yet." Aunt Sally poured more coffee and reached for the sugar.
Sarah grabbed her hand, "Please don't think bad of me. I really tried."
"Of course you did. Don't go borrowing trouble. There's not some kind of rule to follow in order to find God's will. He makes sure we have all the talents and desires necessary to fulfill His plan for our life. Then He goes to work making sure we meet those we are supposed to meet. He presents lessons that we're supposed to learn. When he thinks we're good and ready, He brings something out of nowhere and we have to look to heaven and admit to his greatness."
Sarah sipped her coffee. "So what happened? Why didn't I like it? I know God spoke to me about missionary work."
"Well darling, if you'll stop back-jawin' God for just a minute and be still long enough maybe we can see what's on His mind. Don't go skyhootin' over this making it harder to hear God than to hear a whistle in a hurricane."
Aunt Sally scooped up her last bite of pie. She slowly sipped some coffee and waited for Sarah to calm down. When she saw her shoulders relax she continued.
"Some folks don't pay attention to their lessons and they don't know a hen from a hole in the wall. Looking back on their own life all they see is themselves. They don't try to see God's purpose or what He's tried to teach them. So off they go all half-cocked. If you put their brains in a jaybird's head, he'd fly backwards."
Aunt Sally scooted her chair closer to Sarah and took her hands. She gently rubbed them until She had Sarah's full attention.
"God makes sense! It ain't my horseback opinion, it's the truth. God makes sense. He watches our lives like a hawk and makes sure we are equipped for any job he asks us to do. There's been plenty of jobs I've felt compelled to do and it cut my heart strings cause I was sure I couldn't do it. Yet, once I was into it, I felt God a'smiling cause He had taught me good. I did the job and He liked it."
Sarah squinted trying to understand if Aunt Sally thought she should go back to Africa. "So..."
Aunt Sally interrupted, "It's an easy thing to see hurtin' in this world and be touched by it. You don't know, maybe God did want you to take this trip so you could see all the pain that needs help. Maybe, just maybe you aren't supposed to be the help directly. Maybe your supposed to be the person that makes it possible for others to go."
"What do you mean?"
"I once knew a man that had God's will wrote all over his heart. He was old when New Orleans was a blueprint. He'd been a poor dirt farmer and never had two cents to rub together. At least that's what we all thought."
Aunt Sally opened the window and let the sweet smell of honeysuckles fill the air. "We'd see him walking four miles to town and pulling a little wagon so he could bring his vittles home. Him and the family walked two miles to church smiling all the way. People used to think they was so poor that money musta thought old Pete was dead. It wasn't until he passed on that we heard tell the real story."
Sarah loved Aunt Sally's stories. "What happened?"
"Old Pete's farm made just enough for his family. His wife sold blankets, eggs and anything she could put together. That extra money would have been nice for those barefoot kids, but instead Pete decided that God had a plan. Every bit of extra money went to support missionaries and the little church we attended. Everyone at church thought Old Pete would finally be in high cotton when their mortgage was paid off. Instead, they just re-mortgaged the house and gave the money to the church."
"What? I've never heard of such a thing."
"Aint' it the truth. There's more." Aunt Sally scratched her head. "Let's see now. When Old Pete re-mortgaged his house it made the entire congregation feel mighty poorly driving in our so-called needed cars and passing old brother Pete draggin' his wagon. We'd stop and ask if he wanted to pile in, but he would just smile and say - 'Nope, there's too many of us and besides it's a beautiful day for a walk. See you at church'."
Aunt Sally waved her hand in the air. "Him and his brew would smile all the way to church." She shook her finger at Sarah. "Land sakes, child. When he passed away you should have seen that funeral. Big whigs from here and there walking around looking like high cotton 'cause Pete had sent them so much money. There were a lot more poor little missionaries smiling 'cause they got the job done because of Old Pete. Half way through the service those big whigs broke and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. It was so wet we could have built a pond including the fish."
Sarah laughed and grabbed her mouth. "I can't believe it. He was denying comforts to help missionaries?"
"Yep. I ain't saying those hi-fluting folks didn't do good. I sure ain't saying that missionaries don't need our help. I am saying that we got to look at the whole picture. When we do, we see that nobody does anything alone, and we better be thanking the Petes as well as the people they support."
It was as if a light had gone on in Sarah's head. "You mean this feeling about missionaries might be God telling me that they need my support? Maybe I could help more by sending my money."
"That's for you to figure out. I think you better stop fuddle fussin' about God's will and start listening to His voice. Do what He's given you the talents to do and do it with a smile. Give him a chance to lead and stop telling Him where you think you should be going. If you listen and follow Him, you'll be mighty thankful for the ride."
Sarah smiled and nodded her approval.
Aunt Sally brushed crumbs off her apron. "I guess Old Pete is having some kind of party with God and I bet he don't regret draggin' that wagon one little bit."
"Sarah Johnson, put your feet on in here. I am tickled pink to see your gingham pretty self. I'm a bit taken back that you just up and left and never said a pea turkey about your doin's. When I heard you went to Africa to be a missionary I about lost my breath. I was busting my buttons to know you was a'doing so well."
"It's good to be home Sally. I thought I would stop by for a cup of coffee."
"Honey I just made some good Hazelnut coffee. It will go just fine with a nice big piece of apple pie. Let me lay it out and you can tell me about your trip."
Aunt Sally swirled around the kitchen excited to have a visitor and wanting to hear all the news. Sarah sat down at the big oak table and nervously fidgeted with the napkin holder. She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on the surroundings. She respected Aunt Sally and hoped she wasn't about to disappoint her.
"While you were gone it was so wet Bubba was shootin' wild ducks in the parlor! I kept thinking about how you might like a little of that soaking where you were. I do hope things were good there."
Sarah shrugged and gave a half hearted, "Yea. Things were great. It was a wonderful trip." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Looking away from Aunt Sally she continued, "Yes. Definitely. A great trip."
Aunt Sally served the apple pie. Steam floated around the edges. "Did you just make this?"
"Of course, it's Thursday. That's apple pie day. There is nothing like having a special day every week for a fresh slice of pie. It's comforting."
Sarah smiled. Aunt Sally had a way of making the ordinary seem as if it could solve bigger problems.
Finally Aunt Sally plopped into her chair and began stirring sugar into her coffee. "Alright dearie, tell me what's going on. I suspect you've got a kink in your life."
Sarah cut a piece of pie but let it sit on the fork. She looked up at Aunt Sally and tried to smile but her mouth only quivered. Looking back at her plate tears started to form. "I don't know how to say this. I feel like I've let the entire church down. Everyone helped me go to Africa, but...I...well, it wasn't what I thought."
Aunt Sally took a big bite of pie as if nothing was wrong and smiled sweetly. "You didn't like it did you?"
"I wanted to, really I did. I prayed and prayed. The people were so nice and I do think I did some good while I was there, but I was miserable. I had to sleep in an awful place. Sleep nothing - I hardly slept at all. I kept thinking bugs were crawling on me and I'd get up and turn the light on just to be sure. The only place to bathe was in a Victorian style pot. And the food...it was awful and I kept wondering if I had been careful enough so I wouldn't get sick."
Sarah ended her outburst and lifted her fork to her face. Without taking a bite she lowered her arm and continued. "When I got home I spent two days thanking God for my bathroom. I like bubble baths. One day I spent four hours just soaking, crying and refilling the tub when the water got cold. Am I a mess or what?" She finally threw the piece of pie in her mouth and glared at Aunt Sally.
"Now let me get this straight. You thought God spoke to you about being a missionary, but when you got there you weren't so sure. You just don't feel cut out to do that and you're wondering what God's will really is?"
Sarah gulped her pie and reached for her coffee. "Yes! Exactly. What am I supposed to do now?"
"Well, darling, people been fussing about that one for years. I guess it did take me a pretty long spell to figure it out myself. I found out that God's will ain't as difficult as some people think. They get all fuzzed-up about this and that and think there's some kind of rule to follow in order to find some magical gift that God gives to people. I've known a few folks that did find that magical gift, but most of the time God puts his will into our heart the day we come along."
"So I've messed up 25 years?"
"No Darling, slow down." Aunt Sally reached for her hand. "Don't fly up the creek just yet." Aunt Sally poured more coffee and reached for the sugar.
Sarah grabbed her hand, "Please don't think bad of me. I really tried."
"Of course you did. Don't go borrowing trouble. There's not some kind of rule to follow in order to find God's will. He makes sure we have all the talents and desires necessary to fulfill His plan for our life. Then He goes to work making sure we meet those we are supposed to meet. He presents lessons that we're supposed to learn. When he thinks we're good and ready, He brings something out of nowhere and we have to look to heaven and admit to his greatness."
Sarah sipped her coffee. "So what happened? Why didn't I like it? I know God spoke to me about missionary work."
"Well darling, if you'll stop back-jawin' God for just a minute and be still long enough maybe we can see what's on His mind. Don't go skyhootin' over this making it harder to hear God than to hear a whistle in a hurricane."
Aunt Sally scooped up her last bite of pie. She slowly sipped some coffee and waited for Sarah to calm down. When she saw her shoulders relax she continued.
"Some folks don't pay attention to their lessons and they don't know a hen from a hole in the wall. Looking back on their own life all they see is themselves. They don't try to see God's purpose or what He's tried to teach them. So off they go all half-cocked. If you put their brains in a jaybird's head, he'd fly backwards."
Aunt Sally scooted her chair closer to Sarah and took her hands. She gently rubbed them until She had Sarah's full attention.
"God makes sense! It ain't my horseback opinion, it's the truth. God makes sense. He watches our lives like a hawk and makes sure we are equipped for any job he asks us to do. There's been plenty of jobs I've felt compelled to do and it cut my heart strings cause I was sure I couldn't do it. Yet, once I was into it, I felt God a'smiling cause He had taught me good. I did the job and He liked it."
Sarah squinted trying to understand if Aunt Sally thought she should go back to Africa. "So..."
Aunt Sally interrupted, "It's an easy thing to see hurtin' in this world and be touched by it. You don't know, maybe God did want you to take this trip so you could see all the pain that needs help. Maybe, just maybe you aren't supposed to be the help directly. Maybe your supposed to be the person that makes it possible for others to go."
"What do you mean?"
"I once knew a man that had God's will wrote all over his heart. He was old when New Orleans was a blueprint. He'd been a poor dirt farmer and never had two cents to rub together. At least that's what we all thought."
Aunt Sally opened the window and let the sweet smell of honeysuckles fill the air. "We'd see him walking four miles to town and pulling a little wagon so he could bring his vittles home. Him and the family walked two miles to church smiling all the way. People used to think they was so poor that money musta thought old Pete was dead. It wasn't until he passed on that we heard tell the real story."
Sarah loved Aunt Sally's stories. "What happened?"
"Old Pete's farm made just enough for his family. His wife sold blankets, eggs and anything she could put together. That extra money would have been nice for those barefoot kids, but instead Pete decided that God had a plan. Every bit of extra money went to support missionaries and the little church we attended. Everyone at church thought Old Pete would finally be in high cotton when their mortgage was paid off. Instead, they just re-mortgaged the house and gave the money to the church."
"What? I've never heard of such a thing."
"Aint' it the truth. There's more." Aunt Sally scratched her head. "Let's see now. When Old Pete re-mortgaged his house it made the entire congregation feel mighty poorly driving in our so-called needed cars and passing old brother Pete draggin' his wagon. We'd stop and ask if he wanted to pile in, but he would just smile and say - 'Nope, there's too many of us and besides it's a beautiful day for a walk. See you at church'."
Aunt Sally waved her hand in the air. "Him and his brew would smile all the way to church." She shook her finger at Sarah. "Land sakes, child. When he passed away you should have seen that funeral. Big whigs from here and there walking around looking like high cotton 'cause Pete had sent them so much money. There were a lot more poor little missionaries smiling 'cause they got the job done because of Old Pete. Half way through the service those big whigs broke and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. It was so wet we could have built a pond including the fish."
Sarah laughed and grabbed her mouth. "I can't believe it. He was denying comforts to help missionaries?"
"Yep. I ain't saying those hi-fluting folks didn't do good. I sure ain't saying that missionaries don't need our help. I am saying that we got to look at the whole picture. When we do, we see that nobody does anything alone, and we better be thanking the Petes as well as the people they support."
It was as if a light had gone on in Sarah's head. "You mean this feeling about missionaries might be God telling me that they need my support? Maybe I could help more by sending my money."
"That's for you to figure out. I think you better stop fuddle fussin' about God's will and start listening to His voice. Do what He's given you the talents to do and do it with a smile. Give him a chance to lead and stop telling Him where you think you should be going. If you listen and follow Him, you'll be mighty thankful for the ride."
Sarah smiled and nodded her approval.
Aunt Sally brushed crumbs off her apron. "I guess Old Pete is having some kind of party with God and I bet he don't regret draggin' that wagon one little bit."
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