Transfer of Authority Part Two

Over the next month I felt the awful power of God working in my life and on my heart. Issac and I grew closer under the watchful and jealous eye of my protective father. Many nights we would sit at the kitchen table enjoying Bible study and fellowship with my parents, my mother bustling about serving tea and my father gently guiding us through the process of learning about the Lord's plan for our life.

I admit that I struggled not to stumble. Many a night I would wish to take Issac's hand, to pull closer to him, to show him through more than words how my heart felt knitted to his in the light of Jesus. As those feelings developed I would turn to God, spending many a night on my knees, begging God for the strength to remember my vow of purity, to remember that it was not in my power to move the relationship further, that only through moving together in our study of the Lord's word could we truly find solace.

Every time I picked up one of my nephews or nieces, every time I put dinner on the table, with each piece of clothing I put on the drying line I wondered how long it would be until I was doing so in my own house, for my dear husband and my precious children. I wondered if my son would have Issac's green eyes or my long fingers. I sewed on a trosseau, praying that these linens would grace my own table. We would start small, I knew, in a little apartment of a garden building. There wouldn't be room for a garden but there would be room for the babies we both wanted, a kitchen were I could make him rosemary chicken and rolls, just like my mother made for my father. I braided rugs with scraps from my mother for a kitchen rug. I did needlepoint pillows for our couch, sewed curtains and dreamt of a little place of our own.

Issac shared his dreams with me of a small parsonage where he could tend to a faithful flock, doing God's work here on this earth. I would have a garden and flowers and our children could help while we made a home of beauty and grace, loving in God all the while. Issac revealed his brilliance to me, showed my father and me how he could interpret with feeling and intelligence the word of God. There were, at times, heated debates over scripture and while I held my tongue, I worried that my father would see those differences as too big to surmount. To my surprise and delight I found that Issac was able to not only debate with respect and honor but eventually persuade my father on some things. I heard nothing but the wonderful music of my beloved father and, now, my beloved Issac talking of the word of God. What words could be more glorious than that?

Two months after Issac first graced our dining table my father took me aside to talk to me. My father had me sit and explained that Issac had asked him a month earlier for my hand in marriage.

I nearly leapt from my seat, eagerness obviously apparent and my heart beat quickly.

"Yes, Father, oh, yes," I cried.

His eyes were warm with a twinkle when he responded, "My child, I have prayed on this for the past month. That's why I didn't with to say anything. As you know, only the best will do for my daughter. I have met with Issac and as you know we've discussed how he wishes to proceed to live a Godly life."

I held my breath, wondering briefly how my heart would stand my father telling me that he had denied my beloved the chance to become my dearest husband. Almost as if he knew my own happiness was hanging in the balance and to tease me my father paused. I didn't dare breathe with anticipation.

"I have consented," he said and then had to pause as I leapt up and hugged him tight. He gently pulled my arns from around his neck and sat me down again, "I have told him that if he wishes to come to church with us on Sunday he has my permission to take you on a walk to the gazebo to talk to you. I trust you will behave honorably."

"Of course, Father, of course," I said, blushing for the tempting thought of being with Issac away from the eyes of my parents did cause me to feel light and fearful.

That night I dropped on my knees to bless the Lord for being so good to me. I begged forgiveness for ever doubting his work in my life. I prayed and prayed, tears of happiness streaming down my face until my mother peeked in the room and turned out the light, gently reminding me to sleep. Though it took so long to fall asleep, I fell into a wonderful dream of my own home and a wonderful husband to call my own, with children running from everywhere, calling me "Mama."

It was with a renewed spirit that I served my family for the next week. I baked and swept, planted and weeded, did laundry and babysat. Yet, underneath all my industriousness were thoughts of Sunday, of finally hearing my love telling me he wanted to make me his blessed wife.

On Sunday I was up before dawn and my mother greeted me in the cheery kitchen with great delight as I already had breakfast on the table, complete with freshly squeezed juice and warm cinnamon buns. Of course, she knew, as did my father, that excitement would not let me sleep. I was cautioned over and over during breakfast as every little sound caused me to jump up, thinking it was my Issac at the door.

Just after my father's second cup of coffee the doorbell rang. My father set down his cup and bade me to sit still. I patted my hair and smoothed my dress though I didn't have the calm to pick up my fork.

Issac walked in ahead of my father, a clutch of red roses in his hands and a shy smile on his face. He handed the roses to my mother. She bustled off to find a vase and my father motioned Issac to sit opposite of me. He turned down offers of breakfast and instead spoke to my father about church news. My mother asked after his parents, with whome we had fellowshipped just two weeks before. Every time I was around Issac's graceful mother I felt that there was a kinship between us and I wanted nothing more than to call her my beloved mother-in-law.

Throughout the time until we left for church Issac and I spent time catching glances, resulting in blushes for us both. He complimented my dress and I complimented his tie. He accepted a cup of coffee from my mother and I admired the roses he brought. Mostly, we sought reasons to seek each other's eyes, seeing our future within them.

Church was a test of my earthly will and many times over I felt the hand of God still my heart, keeping me from reaching out for Issac's hand during the hymns. Never before had I felt such a desire to leave church. Usually the simple sanctuary and soaring service filled me with the greatest of feelings. Today, however, I felt impatient, wishing only to be on my way to the gazebo. I barely heard the other parishoners afterwards, moving bit by bit to the car, feeling frustrated that it was taking my parents so long to leave.

At home my mother bustled off to the kitchen to start preparing lunch. My father motioned for me to follow before he took Issac aside. I strained to hear from where I chopped the lettace for salad but my mother kept my attention by discussing her own cooking. It seemed like forever before my father called me from the kitchen. I wiped my hands and rushed out.

Issac spoke after a short nod from my father, "Lilly, I would be honored if you would take a walk with me to the gazebo."

I glanced at my father who smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Issac, that would be lovely."

We walked through the kitchen to the back door. I followed Issac out and we walked in delightful silence to the gazebo that stood next to the small pond beyong my mother's garden. I sat on the bench and waited.

Issac sat next to me and for a long time quietly told me of his plans for his life. He explained how, like me, he was the youngest of a large family and was eager to find not just a wife, but one who understood that it would be only God who could open or close the womb. He wanted a wife who knew that the life of a simple pastor would be one of frugality and resource. He said he had watched me in my parents' home and was impressed by my skills. He said that the most important thing was that both he and his wife would live for the most important thing ever: Our great Lord, God and through the grace of the blood of his Son, Jesus Christ.

My heart was racing and while I wanted him to propose, I also felt such peace at hearing his vision for the life we'd share. I could see Bible study with our family, having our children in the warmth of our bed, of visiting my siblings and watching a multitude of beautiful children playing.

I told him how I had always known that God had only one for me and he would be the godliest of men. I told him that I had never wanted anything more than to be the supportive wife of a great man and the mother of his children.

With that Issac knealt down and produced a beautiful diamond ring. The small diamond glinted in the light and my breath caught in my throat.

"Lilly, will you do me the honor of being my wife, my heart, my helpmeet?"

"Yes, yes!" I cried as tears started streaming down my face.

With my emphatic answer Issac removed the purity ring I had worn for the previous six years and replaced it with the most beautiful engagement ring I had ever seen.

I was the luckiest girl in the room!

Next time: Planning the most beautiful wedding in the world to my lovely fiance.