Journey of Hope. Debbie KaufmanЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Three days? My ship leaves for Garraway tomorrow morning, Dr. Mary. And I can’t count on the Elder-Dempster Company refunding my fare.” Anna stifled a rising panic. “Even if they change my ticket, I have no money for the additional change fees.”
“Not to worry. I’ll ask my William to talk to them. Most steamship lines bend their rules to accommodate God’s work. Missionaries are lucrative business for them. If there is a fee, I’m sure we can appeal to the bishop for discretionary funds.”
Hot tears built a pool behind Anna’s eyes. She fought them back and spoke once she trusted her voice. “Is it really all about money? Even here as a missionary? No, an ex-missionary. I’m losing my posting over money. The bishop has already drawn on his discretionary funds to keep me here a little longer while I seek a new source of support.”
Dr. Mary tilted her head. “Well, that explains a lot. When you left the mission conference in such a hurry last night, I feared something was wrong. What happened to the support money your church promised?”
“They fell on hard times. It’s a small congregation, but they scraped and saved to help me get here. Their monthly pledge after my parents blocked all access to the trust my grandmother left me was a godsend.” Anna picked at a stray thread on her bedcovers. “Originally, I planned to fund my support myself. The trust included a monthly allowance from the interest. As long as I was frugal, that money would have been most of what I needed to stay here.”
“You never told me your parents so actively opposed you.”
Anna shuddered. “Because it does no good to dwell on their past actions. Having a missionary daughter went against all their social ambitions. They wanted me to marry someone handpicked for his social and financial standing. Blocking my trust was only one of the ways they dealt with my refusal. My only consolation is that the entire trust comes under my control once I marry or turn thirty-five, whichever comes first.”
“But eight years is a long time to wait when you’re in need now. Maybe like my father did, they’ll come around eventually. If you do end up having to return home, surely the time apart will have softened their hearts.”
Anna shuddered, remembering. “You don’t know my parents.” She reached out and gripped Dr. Mary’s arm. “And other than my facility with languages, I have no useful skills for employment. Returning home is one problem, but I have to get back to the Pahn. How can I live with myself if I can’t get the tuition to send Taba to the boarding school at Newaka? I promised him. You know what will happen to a twelve-year-old convert if I can’t get him out of the clutches of the devilmen. Once they get him into the sequestered Poro school...”
Dr. Mary paled. “He won’t be coming back out.”
Anna looked at Dr. Mary, waiting for some answer. After a moment Dr. Mary spoke in a low, serious tone. “I can’t tell you what God is going to do in your life or Taba’s right now. I can only remind you of how seconds before the Pahn chief was about to succeed in his plan to kill me, God proved He does work all things to the good. Whatever happens, don’t forget that fact. William and I are living testaments to God’s sovereignty in all things.”
Anna was humbled remembering the story of how Dr. Mary and her husband, Pastor William Mayweather, had narrowly avoided death at the hands of the cannibal tribe. “I believe, but I counted on Bishop Michaels to advance Taba’s tuition money. Before the board’s overhaul of financial policies, my request would have been no problem. Bishop Michaels is clearly sympathetic, but the new rules leave no room for any debt. He’s done what he can so I can return to the village temporarily and try to secure Taba’s safety.”
“Anna, does Taba’s family hold any status or wealth in the village?”
“No, which is why I was counting on my funds to help with tuition. I already made arrangements with Karl and Hannah Jansen when I passed through Newaka. They promised to keep him for two years if I can come up with the money for one.”
Dr. Mary absently rubbed her swollen belly. “The Jansens would be ideal, but even they can only stretch their sterling so far. Why not send Taba to Nynabo with us? We can manage.”
“You’re too close. Nana Mala proved that when he stormed your compound with armed warriors. The devilmen have enough reach that Taba wouldn’t be safe if he stayed with you.”
“Point taken. What about asking Bishop Michaels to let you use your return-ticket funds while you seek other means of support?”
Anna shook her head and the room spun. “No. You know the rules—no service under the Mission Board’s policies unless your return fare is banked against the day you leave the mission field.”
Dr. Mary stood. “Continue to pray, Anna. God has a plan for this boy’s life and yours. Sometimes God provides in ways we don’t expect. Look at last night. God provided a rescuer when you needed one.” She grinned at Anna. “A tall, strong one at that.”
Anna felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Dr. Mary!”
“What? I still have high hopes for you to find a fellow laborer in the mission field.”
“And you think you’ll help me find one by trying to play matchmaker with a total stranger? You don’t give up, do you? Not everyone can find a man like your William. Finding a husband isn’t a priority for me, and I don’t think our Heavenly Father would send me a mate by way of a robbery attempt.” She snorted. “Sounds like one of my father’s poorly thought-out schemes. Never mind the consequences to me, because the end of things always justified the cost, especially since he wasn’t the one paying it.”
Dr. Mary took her medical bag from the nightstand. “I guess it is a little far-fetched. God often requires sacrifice of us, but He has our best interests at heart. Pray and ask what He would have you do. Three days of bed rest should give you ample time to come to a conclusion.”
With no extra funds, missing the ship would curtail most of Anna’s options. She had to be on the SS Boma when it left in the morning. She hadn’t been this desperate since she’d escaped to the ship that carried her to Liberia, thwarting her parents’ plans to marry her off to the odious Dr. Reginald Hightower. Even without God’s call to the mission field, she couldn’t have married a man who’d made it clear that her “excess” of religion was unacceptable in his social circles.
God had provided a means for her then, so she had to believe that He would supply the means for Taba’s safety now. She respected Dr. Mary, but she would be on that ship.
As if she’d read her thoughts, Dr. Mary added, “Anna, I see that look. I’ll go to the bishop if necessary. Don’t you even think about sailing tomorrow. Missionaries who live long enough to serve past their first bout of malaria are too scarce here. He may have just arrived in Liberia, but even the bishop knows not to take chances with your health.”
Anna weighed her options. The bishop could prevent her from ever returning to the Pahn if he so chose. She’d have to get him on her side before staging a rebellion against Dr. Mary’s orders. “Fine, I’ll stay abed.”
“Three days, Anna.”
Dr. Mary knew her too well. Anna couldn’t promise that so she changed the subject. “You know, being a doctor doesn’t make you right about everything. Take matchmaking, for example. I still can’t believe you’d even suggest that being rescued by a blue-eyed, blond, Viking-like warrior type is a basis for an enduring, godly marriage.”
Dr. Mary laughed. “Blue eyes, huh? So you did notice him before he left.”
Anna’s cheeks heated to an alarming degree. A thundering rap on the bedroom door saved her from any reply.
Dr. Mary opened the door. “Just a moment, Bishop.”
Anna reached for the wrapper at the foot of her bed. Dr. Mary admitted a concerned-looking Bishop Michaels, the fringe of white hair on his head standing straight out all around like a demented halo.
Anna