Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
O n Monday, Kate told Jack she would be late to the candy shop since she needed to stop by Marjorie's house first. Marjorie had come home on Friday and made it to church on Sunday, even teaching her Sunday school class, although her daughter, Amy, had helped her a good bit.
Regardless, Kate admired the woman for her grit and determination, but also her cheerful attitude.
She wondered if she would be able to respond in such a positive way if her health was not what she wanted it to be. She had a feeling that that was something that she would have to work on.
Maybe Marjorie could give her some pointers—not that she had any intention of getting sick, but she suspected that it wasn't something that happened at the moment of sickness, but was something that had been cultivated years before.
Determining that she would ask Marjorie about it if they had time after discussing the town Christmas festival, she stepped up to the door and knocked.
"Come on in," a voice called from the other side of the door.
It sounded like Marjorie, upbeat and cheerful as always, even through the door.
Kate turned the knob, and indeed, it was unlocked.
She stepped in, looking around at the slightly messy but warm and cozy kitchen.
Somehow, even though there was nothing expensive or fancy about it, the kitchen looked like home, with several pictures obviously drawn by children tacked to the door of the refrigerator.
Kate was able to pick out the picture Lilly had drawn.
There were dried flowers in a vase above one cupboard, and there was flour on the counter and a bowl with a towel over top of it, as though bread were rising.
The kitchen still sparkled and smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and gave a person a warm, homey feeling that only happened in the most real of homes.
"Walking in here just feels like coming home," Kate said, before she could stop herself.
She had never really walked into a house that smelled like this, and she didn't know why this one felt like home to her.
It shouldn't. TV dinners and silence usually greeted her when she walked in when she lived with her parents.
Even now, it was quiet and still when she walked into the farmhouse, as it had been when she walked into her apartment in Baltimore.
She noted two casserole dishes sitting on the counter and a vase of fresh flowers sitting on the table. A sack of potatoes sat on one chair, and what looked like sweet potatoes sat in a box beside them.
"You must have just gone grocery shopping," Kate said, without thinking.
"Oh goodness no, I don't think I'm up to that," Marjorie said, in the first comment that Kate had heard that she wasn't feeling quite herself. "It's just the town showering me with love. In small towns, casseroles and/or food usually mean love."
"I'll keep that in mind," Kate said.
"Also, I’ve gotten several vases of flowers, and Ben gave me potatoes from his garden. Olivia grows the best sweet potatoes in Virginia, and that's what's in the box there."
"And Bryan sends his love, because the way a farmer shows love is by giving a person a big piece of bloody meat. It’s in the fridge."
Kate laughed. "I'm not sure that would make me feel loved," she said, unable to suppress a shudder.
"That's a farmer for you," Marjorie said with a wave of her hand. "They're a little different than the rest of us," she winked.
"Well, it's good to know, in case that ever happens to me. If someone had given me a piece of big bloody meat, I might question whether or not they even liked me."
"No. That's true love," Marjorie waved her hand around. "Do you want to sit at the bar, or would you like to sit at the table?"
"Wherever it's most comfortable for you."
"Well, I have bread rising—I'm going to need to work it—so if you don't mind, we can sit here at the bar, and I can jump up and punch that thing down whenever it's ready."
"That sounds kind of energetic for a person who had just been in the hospital a few days ago."
"There's something about doing bread that's therapeutic for the soul. It doesn't really matter how sick you are; it still makes you feel better."
"I don't know if I've ever made homemade bread before."
"I personally love sourdough, but I gave all my starter away, and I need to make some more. This is just regular yeast bread."
"Sourdough bread sounds good too." She wanted to do all of those things, but it was an awful lot for a person to do and still work a full-time job.
Plus, she was working a little extra to pay for her living place; she really didn't have time to bake bread, although that seemed like such a soul-soothing job.
"I really appreciate you coming out. I know this is a little out of your way."
"It was worth it to step through the door and smell all those delicious smells and just feel the atmosphere here. You make it feel like a home."
"I think it's God that makes a home, although I suppose I know a lot of people who claim to be Christians, and you don't feel that peace and comfort when you walk into their house."
"No," Kate agreed, wondering how people felt when they walked into her home.
They chatted for a bit more before Marjorie settled herself on a stool beside Kate.
They talked about the festival, and Kate laid out all the things that had been happening. She had specifically called everyone who was involved to get the latest updates, so that Marjorie didn't miss a thing.
She was pretty sure that Marjorie appreciated it, because the lady loved to be involved in things.
"You know, I expected you to be a little bit more down. But you're not bitter; you're not angry; you don't seem frustrated... you just seem happy." Kate pushed the papers aside, and Marjorie, with her hands in the bread dough, looked up in surprise.
"Because I am having some physical difficulties?"
"Yeah. Someone like you, who's used to running around everywhere and doing whatever you want, to be laid up, to be held back, especially this time of year. I thought I would see you more flustered or upset or something. I don't know."
Marjorie stopped for a moment, looking off into the distance, as though gathering her thoughts.
"Well, sometimes God has a tendency to test you on things that you think you have a handle on, so I don't want you to think that I know everything.
But I think the more you get to know God, the closer you are to Him, the more you're willing to let yourself and your own agenda go.
And the more content you are with what you have and what you've been given, whether that's material possessions or your lot in life, so to speak.
The things that you can't do anything about, even if you wanted to, like your health, and even, to a certain extent, your family. "
Kate nodded. That made sense. She couldn't change her parents; she just had to be happy with the parents that God gave her and accept them for what they were and try to love them no matter what. That made sense.
"But how do you know God? How do you get closer to Him?" She paused for a moment. "I want to be like that. I want to be the kind of person who lives my Christian talk, but I don't know how."
Marjorie's brows lifted, and then her eyes narrowed. Kate liked the fact that she wasn't just zipping off a quick, random answer, but she seemed to really be thinking about Kate's question.
"You have to read your Bible. You have to do it on a daily basis.
And not just a verse, not just a quick 'I did my reading for the day,' but immerse yourself in it.
When you wash your hands, you don't just take two drops of water and say that's enough.
No, you run the water over in large quantities, so that you're sure you get them clean.
That's what you do with the Bible—you dig into it in large quantities, so that you're sure to get enough, because it washes your soul clean.
It washes your insides, cleans the bad stuff out, kind of acts like a filter. "
"A lot? What do you mean by a lot?"
"Well, in my opinion, a Christian should definitely be reading their Bible through. Whether it's in a year or in two years or in three years, I don't know, but you should be reading the entire thing. God gave it all to us for a reason."
"But there are whole chapters that I don't even begin to understand. Like Isaiah. It goes on and on forever, and I have no clue what he's even talking about." Kate lifted her hands and then allowed them to drop back down on the counter.
But Marjorie just laughed. "That's me when I first started reading.
I didn't understand half of what I was reading.
But the fact of the matter is, you're in the Bible, you're reading it.
Eventually it will make sense to you. You pray, and you ask God for wisdom, and sometimes you can go to commentaries or online and look up YouTube channels, but that's the other thing you need to do—talk to God about it.
Ask the Holy Spirit to show you. If you're a Christian, the Holy Spirit is inside of you.
But the Holy Spirit can't show you without you at least reading for yourself.
It's not like He's going to drop the knowledge into your head.
You have to go after it. And so much of the Bible instructs on the Bible.
So if you're only reading, say, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, which are easier, and the rest of the New Testament, which is definitely easier than the Old Testament, you're missing things that you need in order to put the pieces together.
You need to read the whole thing; you need to read a lot of it; you need to read it often.
You need to have a daily time where you're talking to God, reading the Bible, and absorbing it.
" Marjorie paused. "That's not to say that you shouldn't meditate on one or two verses. "
"Is that what you do?"