When Tomorrow Comes (26 page)

Where do I start looking for His answer?
she questioned herself. Well, why not start at the beginning? She opened to the book of Genesis. Monday morning’s scripture reading was the story of Creation.
In the beginning God
. . . she read. And that was just where she must begin, she concluded. With God. With understanding who He was and is. With the recognition that He had a plan—that it was within His right to have a plan and direction that would bring good to her life.

She steadily read through the first days of creation. God saw it was good. He was pleased with what He had created.
Let
us make man in our image
. . . the account went on. And God did.
It is not good that the man should be alone
caught Christine’s eye.
I will make him an help meet for him
. She jotted that down under Number One on the notebook page before her. God planned for man and woman to be joined in partnership. She put a little checkmark beside it. She need not fear that it was wrong for her to marry.

But the result of the first partnership was less than desired. Eve, tempted by the serpent, also introduced Adam to sin.

Number Two, wrote Christine. To fulfill God’s plan, both members of the partnership must seek to follow Him. She placed another checkmark. Eric, too, was seeking God’s will.

She read on. God had come looking for Adam and Eve. He had even supplied clothing to cover them, indicating His love and forgiveness—for both of them, not just one or the other. But they had been driven from the Garden.

Point Number Three. If and when we do make an error, God still loves us and can and will forgive if we are repentant. But there are still consequences.

She had made a mistake in the past in promising to yoke her life with a nonbeliever. She had been forgiven, for which she was truly thankful. The consequences had been a disturbed and broken heart and the subsequent struggle with relationships.

But now she felt strongly that it was time to move on. Surely she was not wrong to honestly seek the partner that God had in mind for her. But was that one specific man? Or was there a broader field from which she might choose as long as she stayed within God’s guidelines? She wasn’t sure.

So far, Eric Carlton’s character and personality showed only positive traits. The only negative, she realized, was the fact there was little chance that Dr. Eric Carlton would ever be heading to the North. There were not even outpost clinics there, let alone hospitals. No, it did not seem that Eric Carlton fit at all with her dream of returning to the land and people she loved. Was that why her heart was so disturbed? Yes. Yes, she supposed it was.

Hadn’t her mother once said,
“Sometimes the way God
chooses to lead us is through our own disquieted spirit”
? Well, her spirit was disquieted. Did that mean God was trying to tell her that this relationship was not of His choosing? She didn’t know. She really didn’t know. What she did know was that she could not go ahead with it until her spirit was at rest.

Christine closed the Bible and knelt in prayer. To her usual daily requests, she added fervent supplication for guidance.

She still felt uneasy as she stood to her feet, but from somewhere deep within, a little voice was whispering,
Trust. Just trust
Him. He’ll show the way
. And Christine stilled her troubled heart and agreed to be patient.

Christine went through her day’s usual routine. By all outward appearances nothing had changed. Inwardly, she felt her whole world had been turned upside down. Or was it just on hold while she struggled to find what her next step should be?

Henry called with the news they were all doing fine. Gradually the pieces to his memory puzzle seemed to be falling into place. That was very good news. Amber, though still grieving the loss of their unborn child, was now able to look ahead and dream that in the future another baby would fill her heart and life. Danny did not seem any the worse for the accident.

“Do you ever see that young doctor?” Henry asked nonchalantly. “What was his name—Dr. Carlson?”

“Dr. Carlton, yes,” Christine admitted. “He has finished his residency, and I’ve been seeing him.”

“I was impressed with him,” Henry went on. “I liked the way his professionalism didn’t get in the way of genuine care for his patient.”

Christine changed the topic of conversation. She spoke for several minutes about Hope Canteen, then asked Henry about his work.

Henry groaned. “Laray just got his transfer. Boy, am I going to miss him.”

Christine was caught off guard. She hadn’t even thought of him for some time.

“Where?” she managed to ask.

“Beaver River. Imagine that. That’s where Mom and Dad started.”

Christine felt a little shock go all through her body. Laray was going north. How ironic it seemed. Could it possibly have anything to do with her?

“Did he request it?” she found herself asking.

“No. No, it just came out of the blue. Funny thing, eh?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. “Yes, I guess it is.”

“He’s never worked with dogs, and after what that bear did to him, I worry a bit. Hope a dog never threatens to attack him, or he might panic. Dogs can sense your fear. You have to handle them. . . .”

Henry went on, but Christine was not listening. She loved the dogs. Loved working a team. Loved the sound of the yips and yaps as they voiced their eagerness to run. Loved the squeal of the sled runners on the coldness of packed snow. The scrunch of the snowshoes. The miniature clouds of frozen breath that billowed out as one ran through the frost of a crisp morning.
Does Henry miss all that?
she wondered.

“I’d better let you go,” Henry was saying. “Don’t want you late at Hope.”

Christine knew he wasn’t very taken with the term “canteen,” and he always called the small mission center by the single word. But finding a friendly, open-sounding name was important in attracting young men and women.

Her fingers were trembling as she hung up the phone.
Laray is going north. He said, “Just drop a note.” Does this
mean. . . ?

She shook her head and started for the door, purse in hand.
Don’t be foolish,
she scolded herself.
Many Mounties are sent
north. Just because Maurice Laray happens to be one of them has
nothing to do with you. Don’t go complicating things further
.

Tensions ran high that night at Hope Canteen. The war in Europe had escalated, and news of the Allies was not good. A new wave of recruits was soon to be sent overseas. Though their excitement could be heard in their voices, Christine felt that, in their saner moments, fear filled those young hearts too. Several sought to find some kind of solid anchor before being shipped out.

Pastor Tim mingled with the crowd, passing from one table to another, greeting various ones as he went, slapping shoulders, shaking hands. Even getting involved in a game of darts. No bets—betting was not allowed on any game in the canteen. Christine watched as he flipped a chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on its back. Three young fellows in navy uniforms were leaning slightly forward, listening intently to whatever it was the pastor was saying. He was so casual about it. But she didn’t know anyone who could cut to the heart of a matter more quickly than this young minister. He didn’t just talk, though. He listened. He was listening now as one of the young men spoke.
He’s very good,
she thought.
And very devoted
. She admired him.

He’d be good in the North,
she found herself thinking.
He
listens well. But he leads too. I wonder if he has ever considered a
northern mission? Wouldn’t it be a wonder if God led. . . ?

She stopped. What reason did she have to think Pastor Tim might include her in any of his plans? Well, she had to honestly admit, he had shown some interest in her. Perhaps . . .

Christine checked herself. The direction her thoughts had unexpectedly taken brought a flush to her cheeks.
Now,
said an inner voice,
you are not only wanting to plan your own life; you
are mapping out the plan for others too
. She felt humbled and chagrined.

She carefully guarded her thoughts throughout the remainder of the evening. Once again the group of volunteers shared experiences as they worked together on cleanup. Another young man had made a commitment to faith, and a second one had made an appointment to meet with Pastor Tim the next day. He hadn’t been quite brave enough to speak his heart with his buddies sharing the table.

Once again the young pastor and Christine fell into step and walked to the streetcar stop together.

“Are you as weary as I am?” he asked her.

Christine did not admit that she had gotten little sleep the night before and had been up extra early so she could search the Scriptures. Yes, she was weary.

“But it’s worth it,” he went on. “Just think—the angels are celebrating tonight. Another lost sheep has entered the fold.”

It was a wonderful thought. Christine smiled with him.

“I sometimes ask myself, ‘What do I do when this nightmare is over? When the troops are all safely home again—for those who come home, that is. Where will God lead me then?’ ”

Don’t you say it—or even think it,
Christine scolded herself.
For you to even suggest the North would be wrong
. She bit her tongue.

“Well, I don’t need to worry about that,” Tim said comfortably. “He’ll show me. But it is rather exciting to think about what could be next. I never would have thought of serving here—but it’s been awfully rewarding. I can’t quite imagine being any other place. I guess that’s how it is—how it is supposed to be—when we are where God wants us. When we are
in step
, so to speak.”

Christine nodded. In step with God. That was exactly where she wanted to be.

The streetcar came and they boarded, talking about the day, the future, the horrors of war. So Christine was totally unprepared when he asked, seemingly out of nowhere, “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Yes,” she answered easily, surprising even herself. “Yes, I am.”

He nodded. “I couldn’t imagine you
not
being taken,” he said with a wry smile.

But I’m not really taken,
Christine wished to argue and was surprised by the feeling that, yes, she was. In a way, she
was
taken.

“Tell me about him,” he invited.

“He’s . . . he’s a doctor I met when my brother and his wife were in hospital.”

“A doctor?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“He’s very nice,” Christine found herself going on. “He grew up right here in Calgary.”

“Do you—have you reached an understanding?”

For some reason she did not resent his interest. It seemed perfectly in order.

“I’ve not noticed a ring on your finger,” he added, then said with a grin, “I did check, I admit.”

Christine flushed.

Suddenly she saw the man beside her not just as a very attractive young man, not as a ticket to her beloved North, but as a man of God. She half turned to him.

“I’ve felt . . . confused. You see, I almost made a bad mistake. I was engaged to a nonbeliever for a time. When that was over, it left me . . . scared. Doubtful of my own ability to . . . to know how to choose. I’ve asked—well, we’ve decided to take a week and each seek God’s will for our lives. For any future relationship. I . . . I really won’t be able to answer your question until the week is up.”

His eyes had become thoughtful as he listened. She lowered her gaze. There was silence.

“I admire you. Both of you,” the young minister said. “If every couple sought God’s direction, there would undoubtedly be stronger, more secure and happy homes. And fewer trips to divorce courts. Fewer children left blaming themselves over events beyond their control.”

Christine nodded. Those were the words she would have expected a minister to say.

But his next words were not. “Christine, I will seek to honestly pray for God’s will—not mine—to guide your life, knowing that His will might be in conflict with my own human desire.”

Her eyes widened. Was he saying. . . ? Yes, she feared he was.

She was glad his stop was approaching. “I’ll be praying— but I admit I’ll also be watching that finger,” he whispered with a wry grin as he got up to leave.

All through the week Christine spent her early mornings in searching the Scriptures and prayer, writing down in her notebook any truths that seemed applicable to her present quandary. Her heart and mind seemed to be no closer to her solution than before. Laray was going north. Pastor Tim might even be led of God to work in an Indian mission. She could envision him there. Yet it was Eric who had asked for her commitment. Eric who somehow was constantly in her thoughts. Eric who had endeared himself to her. She saw again his toying with her hair, his leaning over to kiss the single tress. It was like a gently given promise. But Eric in the North? She could not imagine it.

Christine felt panic-stricken. The week was drawing to a close. Eric would be calling her to hear her answer. What was she to say? She prayed that whatever it was she concluded to her search, he would be in agreement. What if she decided that they should continue the relationship and he decided it was over? What would they do then? Obviously it would end, and she’d be left again with a broken heart. Was that to be one of the consequences of her prior disobedience? Christine hoped not. Prayed not.

But she steeled her heart for the worst, yet hoping for . . . what?

CHAPTER
T
wenty-
O
ne

On Saturday, only one day from their agreed deadline, Christine was getting desperate for an answer. She didn’t really feel any closer to knowing what God wanted for her.

I will stay in my room and read and pray until I hear from
the Lord,
she told herself. She breathed a short prayer, asking for God to give wisdom and understanding as she reached for her Bible.

She had worked her way through the book of Genesis, making notes as she went. But she did not feel that, other than general guidelines, Genesis had given her an answer to her particular dilemma. She moved on to the familiar stories of Exodus. The slavery of the people, the birth and miraculous protection of the infant Moses. His sin in killing the Egyptian that resulted in his flight to the desert. She had heard the stories in Sunday school, in family Bible reading, and had read them a number of times herself. She concluded that Moses’ flight really had little to do with Eric’s rightful place in her life.