Free The Measure of a Heart by Janette Oke Page B

congregation—members of the Body—until we have our own gathering place,” he often told Anna, and Anna nodded, willing to accept his assessment.
    He repeated this statement one evening as Anna sat mending worn socks by the light of the kerosene lamp. Austin had been studying at the kitchen table nearby but rose to his feet, pacing back and forth from the window to the chair where Anna sat. She knew he was agitated, but she waited until he was ready to express his feelings. Her needle continued to ply in and out of the wool stocking.
    “We need a church,” he said at last as he ran his hand through his heavy dark hair and let his fingers rest on the back of his neck.
    Anna waited a moment, then said quietly, “We have a church, Austin.”
    He looked at her a moment, then smiled a bit sheepishly as she went on, “But our church does need a place of its own to meet.”
    Austin nodded, then said, “But we are so few, with so little. We’ll never manage it.”
    “Remember the loaves and fishes,” Anna commented, tipping her head slightly.
    Austin chuckled. “The loaves and fishes. I wasn’t planning to feed them, Anna. Just provide them with a place to worship.”
    “That’s feeding,” Anna said seriously, not backing down. “Remember what Christ said to Peter, ‘Feed my sheep.’ What you intend is spiritual feeding—and that is even more important than the physical feeding.”
    Austin’s chuckle died away and his face too became serious.
    “You’re good for me—you know that?” he said with feeling, and he bent and kissed Anna on the top of her head.
    Anna continued to mend.
    Austin took up his pacing again, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
    “So how do we get our hands on these loaves and fishes?” he said, wheeling to face her.
    In the short while that they had been married, Anna had come to realize that it was difficult for Austin to be patient. She sensed the agitation in him now—and she admired it because she knew the reason for it. She knew his eagerness to be fruitful in his ministry. She knew how difficult it was to wait for something that he felt was so important to his people. She fervently wished that she had a ready solution. But she continued to sew, calmly, serenely, as she pondered carefully his question.
    At last she raised her eyes. “In the case of the loaves and fishes—they were brought to Him,” she said evenly.
    “Are you saying—?”
    “In other instances, people were told to ‘go and do.’ ”
    “So?” said Austin, giving his shoulders an impatient shrug. “Are we to ‘go and do’ or sit idly by and—?”
    “We don’t know that yet, do we?” said Anna placidly.
    “So we just—?”
    “Pray,” filled in Anna. “Pray for direction and ask our little congregation to pray with us.”
    For a moment Austin’s frown deepened. He began to pace again.
    Anna laid aside a finished sock and reached for another one.
    “You think we should share this with the people?” he wondered.
    Anna nodded.
    “You think they will understand the necessity for a church?”
    “It is their church.”
    Austin paced a few more steps and swung to face her. Slowly a smile began to spread across his face. He ran his hand through his hair again and rubbed at the back of his neck.
    “I’ve been thinking it’s mine, haven’t I?”
    “Have you?” said Anna, raising wide eyes to his.
    “You know I have,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek, but there was lightness in his voice again.
    “Actually, my statement was just as wrong,” conceded Anna. “It really won’t belong to the congregation either. This is God’s church.”
    Austin nodded his head.
    “So . . .” he said at last. “If He thinks that a building is needed, I guess He can come up with the loaves and fishes. Right?”
    Anna smiled softly. “He might ask us to be involved—a little bit,” she answered. “He did use the lad—and He did put His disciples to work.”
    Austin nodded again. The strain had