has God done? What’s happened?”
“I am here for you. Always. I am here.”
“I loved him! I loved him!”
Hands touched her back. She made out a few of the faces. One was Bishop Zook, tears sliding into his white beard. Another was Pastor Miller, his dark eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Anotherwas Moses’ mother, Emma. She felt Emma’s kiss on her head. Then watched as her own mother took Emma in her arms.
The grief was the sharpest pain Becky had ever known. It cut into her chest and stomach and throat and raked her arms. Deep cries came from far inside, cries she had never heard come from her body before. She thought she sounded like a creature caught in a trap or sinking into a slough, its hope gone, desperate. She didn’t want to eat, she didn’t want to drink, didn’t care if she took another breath. Sleep didn’t come and she didn’t care that it wouldn’t come.
She had never seen a dead room but the Yoder house had one. Moses’ body was washed and dressed in clean black pants and a clean white shirt and laid in a simple wooden coffin Bishop Zook had built for his grandson the very afternoon of the accident. The next day people filed past him in silence. Becky wanted to go to him, but part of her couldn’t move. Her mother and Aunt Ruth and Emma helped her, walked over with her. No makeup was used as the English would have done. It was his face, his eyebrows, his perfect features. “How sweet you are,” she whispered over and over again, “how sweet you are, my darling.”
Bishop Zook wept as he spoke a message in the house about his grandson and the love of God. “No matter how we may hurt today, no matter how we may grieve, God is in this, he is not far away, he has his hands on this, he has Moses in his arms. Die Liebe Gottes ist nicht aufzuhalten .”
The love of God is unstoppable .
A long dark line of buggies wound its way to the graveside. The sun was hot and clear. It is not right , she thought, that he should be dead on a day as beautiful as this, that we should be putting him in the ground on a day like this, that we should be covering him in earth when he loved the air and the sky so much . Nate kept his arm around her the entire time. She couldn’t stand on her own. He seemed to know that and she was grateful for his strength.
“Thank you, Nate,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
“Shh,” he said in his quiet voice. “God knew I needed to be hereand that’s why I’m no longer in China. It’s a small thing for me to do for you.”
“It’s not a small thing…”
“Shh. All right. I love you. We’ll get through this.”
“I don’t see how. I feel like going down into the grave with him.”
“We’ll make it.”
“Even if we do make it, I’ll never be the same again.”
“Shh.”
“I won’t.”
One week later she tried to return to the classes. Everyone was gentle, everyone spoke quietly as they read verses from the Bible to her about the Amish way. Pastor King began to lecture about how becoming Amish was more important than anyone or anything, that everything else that happened in life was as dross compared to worshipping God as an Amish man or woman should, that nothing—not even grief or sorrow or loss—must blind her for a moment to the path he had laid out for her among the Amish people.
“No one must take the place of God. No one must be higher than him in our thoughts. No matter who on earth we love, it must be God whom we love more.” He nodded at Becky as she sat silently in her chair. “Sometimes those we care for are taken away because we put them in the place where only God is supposed to be. In order to bless us more richly, he removes those we love too much so that he can love us more. No one can be where he should be in our heart.”
Becky squeezed her hands tightly together. “What?”
Bishop Zook stood up and motioned for Pastor King to take his seat. “It is perhaps too strongly put. Remember this is a difficult time
“I am here for you. Always. I am here.”
“I loved him! I loved him!”
Hands touched her back. She made out a few of the faces. One was Bishop Zook, tears sliding into his white beard. Another was Pastor Miller, his dark eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Anotherwas Moses’ mother, Emma. She felt Emma’s kiss on her head. Then watched as her own mother took Emma in her arms.
The grief was the sharpest pain Becky had ever known. It cut into her chest and stomach and throat and raked her arms. Deep cries came from far inside, cries she had never heard come from her body before. She thought she sounded like a creature caught in a trap or sinking into a slough, its hope gone, desperate. She didn’t want to eat, she didn’t want to drink, didn’t care if she took another breath. Sleep didn’t come and she didn’t care that it wouldn’t come.
She had never seen a dead room but the Yoder house had one. Moses’ body was washed and dressed in clean black pants and a clean white shirt and laid in a simple wooden coffin Bishop Zook had built for his grandson the very afternoon of the accident. The next day people filed past him in silence. Becky wanted to go to him, but part of her couldn’t move. Her mother and Aunt Ruth and Emma helped her, walked over with her. No makeup was used as the English would have done. It was his face, his eyebrows, his perfect features. “How sweet you are,” she whispered over and over again, “how sweet you are, my darling.”
Bishop Zook wept as he spoke a message in the house about his grandson and the love of God. “No matter how we may hurt today, no matter how we may grieve, God is in this, he is not far away, he has his hands on this, he has Moses in his arms. Die Liebe Gottes ist nicht aufzuhalten .”
The love of God is unstoppable .
A long dark line of buggies wound its way to the graveside. The sun was hot and clear. It is not right , she thought, that he should be dead on a day as beautiful as this, that we should be putting him in the ground on a day like this, that we should be covering him in earth when he loved the air and the sky so much . Nate kept his arm around her the entire time. She couldn’t stand on her own. He seemed to know that and she was grateful for his strength.
“Thank you, Nate,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
“Shh,” he said in his quiet voice. “God knew I needed to be hereand that’s why I’m no longer in China. It’s a small thing for me to do for you.”
“It’s not a small thing…”
“Shh. All right. I love you. We’ll get through this.”
“I don’t see how. I feel like going down into the grave with him.”
“We’ll make it.”
“Even if we do make it, I’ll never be the same again.”
“Shh.”
“I won’t.”
One week later she tried to return to the classes. Everyone was gentle, everyone spoke quietly as they read verses from the Bible to her about the Amish way. Pastor King began to lecture about how becoming Amish was more important than anyone or anything, that everything else that happened in life was as dross compared to worshipping God as an Amish man or woman should, that nothing—not even grief or sorrow or loss—must blind her for a moment to the path he had laid out for her among the Amish people.
“No one must take the place of God. No one must be higher than him in our thoughts. No matter who on earth we love, it must be God whom we love more.” He nodded at Becky as she sat silently in her chair. “Sometimes those we care for are taken away because we put them in the place where only God is supposed to be. In order to bless us more richly, he removes those we love too much so that he can love us more. No one can be where he should be in our heart.”
Becky squeezed her hands tightly together. “What?”
Bishop Zook stood up and motioned for Pastor King to take his seat. “It is perhaps too strongly put. Remember this is a difficult time
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