Free Beside Still Waters by Tricia Goyer Page B

about.
    "I've asked you to remain seated because a member of our congregation has a confession to make."
    The girl, Viola, stood and walked to the front of the room, and Marianna's eyes widened. What on earth had the girl done?
    Whether someone confessed to a deacon, or their sin was found out and confronted, confession in front of the church was the only way to get guilt off of one's chest. Her uncle, Ike, had confessed once for stealing a lighter and cigarettes from the county store not long after he joined the church as a young man. He'd told her he was glad he'd gone before the church and confessed. He'd said it felt good to go on with a clear conscience.
    "This is Viola Mast." The bishop rolled back on his heels and scanned the congregation. "She came to a deacon just this week and told him she'd been listening to records at the house of the woman she cleans for."
    Viola's head was lowered, and Marianna noticed the woman's hands trembling. Knowing how things worked, Viola walked to the front door and exited. A deacon with an umbrella walked with her, and the door was closed behind them.
    When Viola Mast was gone, the bishop led the men in a discussion of what her punishment should be. When it was decided, the bishop went to the door and invited them back in.
    Head still lowered, Viola stood before the bishop, waiting to hear her punishment, waiting to know what she must do for her misdeed to be pardoned. The bishop spoke only loud enough for Viola to hear. When he finished, Viola nodded and turned to face the crowd. Her sleeves and hem were damp where the umbrella hadn't covered her, but she didn't seem to notice. With sincerity on her face, she knelt before the congregation.
    Uneasiness filled Marianna. To have to do such a thing! She lowered her head, queasiness coming over her from the woman's forced humility. Marianna imagined herself kneeling in such a way, and prickles covered her arms as if a thousand invisible ants climbed them.
    Her chest tightened as if someone had put a harness around it and pulled. The slightest headache beat along with her heartbeat in her temple. If she learned anything growing up, it was that others were watching, God was watching. And even though others in the congregation didn't know what was going on inside, God could read her thoughts.
    "I confess today that I am sorry for sinning in this way, and I promise not to do it again." Following Viola's words, came the release of a deep breath.
    "You are forgiven." The bishop motioned her back to her seat. As the woman returned, Marianna noticed the hint of a smile, and she knew the woman no doubt felt better not carrying her transgressions on her shoulders any more.
    Seeing the woman's clear relief, Marianna couldn't help but wonder if she had anything to confess. She couldn't think of anything worthy of going in front of the church—not that she'd have to confess if she did think of something. She was still in her rumspringa and had yet to join the church. Only official members who'd been baptized into the congregation had to go through such steps. Of course, she would be an official member soon. Her plan was to start meeting with the deacons, to prepare for joining this fall with the rest of the like-minded young people.
    Yet at this point she didn't even know if she'd be here in Indiana, and the last thing she wanted was to go through such an important event in a different place, far from everything she knew. Which meant she'd have to wait another year. Her life would be put on hold for her father's desire for adventure. Marianna clenched the palm of her bandaged hand, and her nails dug into the cloth. And as the others began to rise around her, she wondered if having angry thoughts for one's father and brother was a sin according to the Ordnung? Those were becoming a regular occurrence.
    After the church service came time for lunch. Marianna helped in the kitchen as the men added legs to the sitting benches, transforming them into narrow