Daniel (Shelter, #2) E-Book

Robin Merrill

• Herausgeber: New Creation Publishing
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Open Door Church has served as a homeless shelter for more than a decade, but when their pastor dies unexpectedly, it's up to Galen and Maggie to take up the reins and keep the ministry going, which won't be easy, as newcomers seem intent on tearing it down.

And then there’s young Daniel, who seems to be working miracles in their midst, which of course, isn’t possible. Or is it?

Leseprobe

Daniel

The sequel to Shelter

––––––––

ROBIN MERRILL

New Creation Publishing

Madison, Maine

––––––––

DANIEL. Copyright © 2016 by Robin Merrill. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

––––––––

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

––––––––

Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. (www.Lockman.org)

Cover photo by Lisa Berry

Cover design by Taste & See Design

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

More Books by Robin Merrill

Book Club Discussion Questions

Chapter 1

Pastor Dan died on his namesake’s eighth birthday. When young Daniel heard the news, his blue eyes filled with tears as he said, “But I’m not ready yet.”

At fifty-two, Pastor Dan was young for heart failure. Maggie, the unofficial church secretary, found him on a Tuesday morning. He usually walked across the small church parking lot from his parsonage to the church around nine. When lunchtime came and Maggie hadn’t seen him, she ventured out to the parsonage herself. It wasn’t that she was worried about him, but the crises were piling up, and she needed his help.

But she found him lying on his couch as if he’d fallen asleep watching television. Before she realized he was gone, she marveled at the carefree look on his face. For a man who spent his days sprinting from one calamity to the next, Pastor Dan always seemed fundamentally at peace.

Maggie called the paramedics. Then she called her husband Galen. He beat the ambulance there and wrapped his thick arms around his wife.

“What are we going to do?” she mumbled into his chest.

He seemed to think about that for a few seconds before admitting, “I have no idea.”

She looked up at him. “We have to tell the people. They’ll flood out of the church when they see the ambulance.”

“You’re right. You want me to do it?”

“No, it’s OK. I’ll go. Can you stay here and wait for the EMTs?”

Galen kissed his wife on the top of the head, nodded, and then let her go.

Tiny met Maggie at the door. Tiny, as is so often the case with a nickname like that, was a giant of a man. Maggie had once confided in Galen that Tiny reminded her of Lennie from Of Mice and Men, which would make her George. Tiny had made himself Maggie’s unofficial assistant and bodyguard. At first, this had annoyed Maggie, but she had grown used to him now and appreciated him more every day.

“You’re crying,” Tiny said when he saw her.

“Yes, I know,” Maggie said and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Can you please go round everyone up? We need to have a family meeting.”

“Sure, Maggie,” Tiny said. And he was off.

Maggie heard the sirens then and knew that those would draw people as fast as Tiny’s roundup. She made her way to the front of the sanctuary and watched people file in.

Open Door Church was a small church in the small town of Mattawooptock, Maine. The church also served as a homeless shelter, but it wasn’t particularly crowded this September. It was rarely crowded there during the warm months. Many people who had no place else to go preferred sleeping outside, in tents, or in cars to sleeping at a church. Pastor Dan’s only rule was that guests of the church had to go to Bible study every night, and even though that wasn’t much of a requirement, it still kept plenty of people away, when they had other options.

Still, about forty people were staying at Open Door at the time of Dan’s death, including several families. Maggie nodded at her friend Harmony when she entered the sanctuary. Harmony gave her a stoic nod in return. Harmony had been living at the church long enough to know that these impromptu meetings were rarely for good news.

“Thanks for coming, everyone. I’ll make this quick, and I don’t have any answers at this point, so please don’t bombard me with questions. As soon as I learn anything, I will pass it on to you all.” She took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. “Pastor Dan has gone home to be with the Lord.”

All around the room, jaws dropped. A few of the women—and Tiny—burst into tears. Then the hands started going up.

“Who’s going to be our pastor?” Zane asked.

“What happened to him?” John called from the back row.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Melanie cried out from the front.

Maggie put her hands up. “Like I said, guys, I don’t know anything at this point. Please, just be patient, and I will do my absolute best to keep you informed.”

People kept firing questions at her, but she left the sanctuary and headed for the office. When she got there, she shut the door behind her. Immediately, Tiny opened it again and followed her in. But then he shut it behind him and silently took a seat. Maggie sat down behind the desk and put her head in her hands.

After a few minutes, she turned her attention back to the computer screen, where she had been rearranging the laundry schedule. She stared at that until there was a soft knock on the door. She looked up.

Her good friend Pete stuck his head in. “Sorry, Maggie, but we’ve got new guests. Can I send them in?”

Maggie nodded and stood to greet them.

Pete disappeared for a second and then returned with two women and three children. “Hi, I’m Maggie,” Maggie said, and held out her hand to one of the women. “Welcome to Open Door Church. We’re glad you’re here. Would you like to have a seat?”

The woman nodded. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone; Maggie nodded to Tiny, who reluctantly got up and offered his seat to the other woman, who was holding a tiny baby in her arms.

Maggie pulled out the necessary paperwork. “What are your names?”

“I’m Brenda,” the older woman said. “This is my daughter Bailey, my son Brad, and my daughter Breanna, and that,” she said, pointing to the baby in Breanna’s arms, “is my granddaughter Ava.”

“Welcome,” Maggie said again. “Let’s see if we can’t get you all into the same room.”

––––––––

Once Maggie had the newcomers settled, she returned to the office to find her husband waiting for her.

“You OK?” Galen asked.

“Not sure yet. What on earth are we going to do?”

Galen looked at the floor. “No idea.”

“I mean, it honestly never occurred to me that Dan could die. What is God thinking? How can this place survive without him?”

“I don’t know. I guess it will survive if God wants it to survive. And as for what God’s thinking, maybe he’s thinking Dan needed a break. Maybe this is the only way God could get him to take one.”

Maggie smiled at that. “Yeah, he sure did deserve one, didn’t he?”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, each apparently lost in thought. Then Maggie broke the silence. “So I guess we should plan a funeral, right? We should write an obituary? Does Dan have any family who should be doing these things? Or at least someone we should call?”

Galen shook his head. “I know his wife was local, so maybe we should call her family. I know he kept in touch with them after she died. As for Dan, I never heard him talk about his own folks or siblings. I never heard him talk about himself much at all.”

“Isn’t that the truth? OK, I’ll find out how to get in touch with his wife’s family. Maybe they can tell us more. But Galen, we’re going to need a pastor. How exactly do we begin that search? It’s not like we’re a mainline denomination with a diocese in control.”

Galen smiled ruefully. “Listen to you with all your church talk.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Look, I’ve been at this a while now. But really, what does a non-denominational, independent church do? Do we just put an ad in the paper? And what do we have to offer a prospective pastor? Did Dan have benefits? How much did he get paid? How did he get paid for that matter?”

“I don’t think he did.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I mean, I don’t think Dan had drawn a paycheck in years. He just lived like his guests. He ate the food that was given to the church. He wore the clothes that were given to the church. He never took a vacation. He never bought new shoes. I don’t think he got paid.”

Maggie let out a low whistle. “Wow, I guess I never thought about it. So how on earth are we going to replace him? How are we going to find someone who will work for free?”

“I don’t know,” Galen said. “Maybe we can’t. Maybe we have to figure out a way to pay someone. Maybe we start with appointing someone treasurer.”

“You mean someone other than Pastor Dan?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. Good grief, he really did it all, didn’t he?” Galen paused. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and studied the floor some more. After a minute of that, he looked up abruptly. “You know, I think we must have some bylaws around here somewhere from when the church first formed. I mean, we’re a nonprofit, right? So there must be an official board somewhere?”

Maggie snorted. “A board of homeless people?”

“Well no, this church didn’t start out as a homeless shelter. It started out as just a church. Maybe those bylaws would have some procedure in place. Better than nothing?” Galen said hopefully.

“You know what?” Maggie said, with a hint of hope in her voice for the first time that morning.

Galen shook his head.

“We should call Cari.”

Galen slapped the table. “Yes! Yes, we should. Call Cari. Right now.”

“Somerset County Career Center. How may I direct your call?” a tired voice answered.

“Is Cari available?” Maggie asked.

“Hold please.”

Cari had been Maggie before Maggie was Maggie. Or rather, Cari had done the job Maggie had been trying to do ever since Cari left for greener pastures. Cari had served at Open Door tirelessly until she got a job doing employment counseling. Her new job was a huge boost to the shelter, as she took special care to help church guests find jobs and get back on their feet—or in some cases, on their feet for the first time.

“This is Cari.”

“Hey, Cari, it’s Maggie.”

“Oh hey, Maggs! Long time no chat. What’s up?”

“Are you sitting down?” Maggie asked.

“No time. Just spill it.”

“Pastor Dan. He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s gone.” Maggie’s voice cracked. “He died this morning. Or sometime last night. I found him this morning.”

Cari was silent.

“You OK?”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry to tell you like this, but Galen and I need your help. Do you know if Dan had any family? Someone we should call?”

“Just his wife’s folks.”

“Do you know their names?”

Cari rattled them off, along with their address. Maggie scribbled them down.

“And do you know if we have any church bylaws or anything? Is there any procedure in place for how to hire a new pastor? And I’m not even sure we should use the word ‘hire.’ I mean, did Dan even get paid?”

“No, he didn’t get paid. If he needed something, he would ask me if there was enough money for it in the safe. If there wasn’t, he went without. If there was, then he helped himself. But we’re talking a tank of gas or a new toothbrush. It’s not like he was buying snowmobiles.”

“I know,” Maggie said.

“It was all very laid back,” Cari explained. “Dan feels, or felt I guess, that God was in control of the money. So he didn’t pay much attention to it. It was always there when we really needed it. But I’m not sure how that system’s going to work now. Most people expect a little more organization when money is involved.”

“I think—” Maggie started, but Cari immediately interrupted.

“As for bylaws, yeah, they’re there, but they’re wicked old, and probably completely useless at this point. Look on Dan’s bookshelf. They are in a black binder. I suppose you, or we, or someone, should form a hiring committee and hope God will send us someone. I don’t see what else you can do. Unless G wants to take over.”

Maggie chuckled humorlessly. She looked at her husband sitting quietly on the other side of the desk. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard Galen say, ‘I don’t know how Dan does it’?”

Galen frowned.

“True. But Dan’s not going to be doing it anymore,” Cari said.

“OK, I’ll go find the binder and see what we can figure out. Thanks, Cari.”

“You bet. Keep me in the loop. I’ll be praying.”

“Thanks,” Maggie said. “Bye.” She hung up.

“Cari wants me to do it?” Galen looked aghast.

“No, she just mentioned it as an option.”

“Well, why don’t we get the funeral set up first? Then we’ll worry about finding a new pastor. Until then, I can fill in where needed.” Galen stood up to leave. “God help us all.”

“Does that mean you’re doing Bible study tonight?” Maggie called after him.

“Well, tonight is my turn anyway,” Galen said without turning around.

Chapter 2

Hundreds of people showed up for the funeral. The sanctuary was packed. Every seat was full and people were lined up along each wall, standing quietly in the stuffy late-summer heat. Maggie and Galen sat near the front with their two sons, Isaiah (seven) and Elijah (five), perched on their laps. Latecomers stood in the foyer, mostly unable to see or hear anything.

Galen had asked a pastor from Waterville, someone he’d heard Dan speak highly of, to officiate the service, and he did a bang-up job. He read some Scriptures on heaven, shared a brief but poignant Gospel message, and then opened the floor to anyone who wanted to share. And boy, did they. Soul after soul took the microphone and shared how Dan had saved their lives, how he’d helped them get clean, how he’d led them to the Lord, how he’d believed in them when no one else did. Then little Daniel asked for the microphone.

Daniel had practically grown up at Open Door. Pastor Dan had been at the hospital when Harmony had delivered Daniel, and Pastor had driven them home to the church when they were discharged. Since then, Harmony and Daniel had moved out of the shelter a few times, in various attempts to live on their own, but something had always gone wrong, and they kept returning to Open Door, where they currently lived.

“Except for my Father in heaven,” young Daniel began, sounding remarkably composed for an eight-year-old, “Pastor Dan was the only father I’ve ever known. I am glad I do not know my real father, because I had Pastor Dan. He taught me so much about the Bible and about fishing. I will try to make him proud with my life.”

Maggie had managed to keep it together until then, but at Daniel’s words, the dam broke, and she began to sob into the top of Elijah’s head. If Pastor Dan had been Daniel’s father, then she was his aunt. She and Daniel’s mother Harmony had been close friends for a long time. Harmony had been Maggie’s first roommate when Maggie had first arrived at the shelter, lost, alone, and scared.

After the funeral, most of the people trickled downstairs to the kitchen for refreshments. The room wasn’t big enough for so many visitors, but at least it was cooler down there. It soon became evident that the normal kitchen staff was overwhelmed at the task, and, briefly, Maggie wondered if Pastor Dan would jump in and get things under control. Of course, she soon realized that he wouldn’t, so she told Galen he was in charge of their children, and put on an apron herself.

When her husband and tired children were ready to leave, she was just getting started on the dishes. “Go ahead,” she said to Galen. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Galen gave her a kiss on the cheek and then whispered in her ear. “Hurry, though, OK? I’d like to go over my notes one more time for the sermon tomorrow.” Then he vanished, leaving her with her rubber gloves in the air so the water didn’t run into them.

“What’s wrong?” Pete asked.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. I’m just feeling torn. I need to help here, but Galen needs me to help at home.”

“Go home. We’ll be fine,” Pete said. Just then, Maggie and Pete both heard Jessica cuss out a funeral guest they didn’t recognize. Maggie rushed over to defuse the situation, and Pete returned to cutting up more watermelon.

––––––––

Maggie and the cranky kitchen crew scurried around serving the guests for two hours. At one point, Tiny asked Maggie, “Are these people ever going to leave?”

“Not sure?” Maggie said.

“Well, can we kick them out?” Tiny asked. “I’m tired.”

“Not sure,” Maggie said again. “I think that would be bad form.”

Eventually, people did leave, and Maggie, Jessica, and Pete finished up cleaning the kitchen, while Tiny stood watch at the door.

“Don’t work too hard, Tiny,” Pete said.

“Hush,” Maggie muttered to Pete. “If he helps too much, he’ll just get in the way, and you know that.”

With the kitchen clean and the light off, Maggie dragged herself up the stairs and then out to her car. Maggie and her family lived in an apartment over her husband’s garage. It was cozy, but the price was right.

When she got home, she found the apartment strangely quiet and her husband staring at his Bible.

“Everything OK?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Galen whispered. “The boys fell asleep, thank God. Apparently grief exhausts them. I’m just going over my notes. I’m nervous about tomorrow. I don’t want anyone to think I’m trying to take over or anything.”

“It’s OK, honey,” Maggie said. She kissed him on the temple and then began to rub his shoulders. “You’ll be terrific. It’s not like you didn’t try to find someone else to do it, right? Just try to give it to God and let the Holy Spirit do his thing.”

Galen looked up at her with an amused look on his face.

“What?” she said, stopping her massage.

“Oh nothing. It’s just funny to hear my own advice coming back at me from my wife’s lips.”

Maggie quietly giggled. “Well, it’s good advice,” she said and wrapped her arms around him. “Come on, let’s go to bed. Morning will come soon.”

––––––––

Maggie and Galen got to church early the next morning and were greeted by four men neither of them recognized. The men were all wearing suits.

“Good morning,” one of them said, and held out a hand to Galen, who took it. “Welcome to Open Door Church.”

“And you are?” Galen asked.

“I am Phil Miller. I’m an elder here at Open Door.”

Maggie sucked in some air while her husband belted out a laugh. “Oh? You are? I didn’t realize we had any elders?”

The man’s smile didn’t fade. “Well, church politics you know, but that’s all behind us now. I’d like to introduce you to Open Door’s new pastor, Christian Hatch.”

The man beside Phil the elder stepped forward. “Chris, please,” he said taking Galen’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Maggie, would you take the kids into the sanctuary, please?” Galen asked in a strained tone. Hurriedly, Maggie complied. When his family had vanished, Galen said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve been regularly attending and serving in this church for more than a decade and I’ve never seen any of you. How could you possibly have chosen a new pastor without any input from the church members? And how could you have done this in a week?”

“Yes,” Phil said, “we moved swiftly as soon as we heard the sad news about Dan. We can’t have a church without a shepherd, now can we?”

Galen’s face grew red. “I don’t think you understand what I’m asking. Who are you people? You can’t just come in off the street and hire a pastor!”

Phil gave Galen what appeared to be a practiced, plastic smile. “We are not off the street. We are the elders of this church, chosen by the church membership, apparently before you started attending here. We understand change is hard, but—”

“Change is hard?” Galen was almost shouting now, and the new pastor took a step back. “Are you out of your mind?”

Maggie reappeared then. She looked fairly composed until she saw the look on her perpetually calm husband’s face. Then she looked distressed. She was carrying a pen and notebook. “Could I have your names please?” she asked the men in suits.

“Certainly,” Phil replied. “I am Phil Miller. This here is Elder Albert Pelotte, and this is Elder George Clifford.”

Maggie scribbled the names down. “You didn’t need to repeat the word elder. We are well aware of the point you are trying to make.”

“You calling Cari?” Galen asked Maggie.

“Yes, and I’m checking the bylaws to see if they speak to any part of this scenario.”

“Oh, they do,” Phil interjected. “I wrote the bylaws.”

Speechless, Maggie unlocked the office, and Galen followed her in, shutting the door behind him.

“Where did you put the kids?” he asked.

“They’re in the sanctuary. I told them they could play with my phone if they were silent.”

“Well, you’re going to need a new phone.”

Maggie dialed Cari’s home number.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answered.

“Hey, it’s Maggie. We have a problem.”

Cari snorted. “We always have a problem. Couldn’t it wait until my alarm went off?”

“No, this is way bigger than most of our problems. Do you know Phil Miller, Albert Pelotte, George Clifford, or Christian Hatch?”

Cari groaned. “I know the first three names, but not the last. Why? They’re not there are they?”

“Yes, they are, and they’re claiming to be elders and they’ve hired a new pastor, this Christian Hatch guy, who looks like he’s about twenty-five. And they’re all wearing ties!” Maggie said as if that was the most exasperating part of the whole affair.

“I’ll be right there.”

––––––––

True to her word, Cari got to church within about fifteen minutes, looking disheveled and ornery. “Well, this is a blast from the past,” Maggie whispered to Galen.

They met her at the door, just as the new welcoming committee attempted to greet her.

“Don’t bother, Phil,” Cari said as Phil extended his hand in greeting. “You may not remember me, but I remember you all too well.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said, still smiling. “Have I had the pleasure?”

“What, are you running for office or something? Cut the act, Phil.” Then Cari looked at Galen. “These folks were our church elders. But when Dan opened the doors to the homeless, they made a big stink about it. And when they couldn’t get their way, they formed a new church in Winslow. What’s going on there this morning? Who is running that dog and pony show if you’re here?” Cari spat.

“Now, now,” Phil said to Cari without taking his eyes off Galen. “That’s not an entirely accurate depiction of events. We weren’t against lending a helping hand. We just disagreed with Dan about how to go about it.”

“Whatever,” Cari snapped. “It’s all ancient history now. What are you doing here? What could you possibly want with us now? You know there are still homeless people here?”