Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Seth
I sat outside on the porch in front of my open Bible, hot coffee in hand, as I stared out at the little white house in the valley. The morning sunrise was my favorite part of the day.
I couldn’t get Ella out of my mind. She was so filled with anger it broke my heart.
I remember being that angry when Scarlett died.
But it didn’t last long; the Lord broke down my walls of anger, and they quickly turned to desperation and sadness and finally acceptance.
I’d moved through the stages of grief pretty quickly, learning to lean on God for strength.
But sweet Ella seemed to be stuck on one stage in particular.
I peered at Ella’s house, the house my great-grandfather had built, the house I’d grown up in and later sold to pay for the start-up I needed for this dream.
The cattle farm dream.
My mind raced with thoughts about Ella’s well-being.
Was smoke coming out of the chimney? Was she cold in there?
Would she figure out how to chop wood this morning?
Because I certainly couldn’t chop it for her.
She’d practically bitten my head off yesterday.
Was it the wood? Or the Bible verse? Or both?
It’s not that I thought she wasn’t capable.
It’s that I knew what it was like to drown in the daily life tasks while your heart was still healing, and I wanted to take one thing off her plate.
Her words from that night still haunted me.
“My husband was murdered and didn’t chop enough wood before he left me forever. So, no, I’m not okay.”
“I’m not okay.”
She wasn’t okay.
My heart ached in the center of my chest so strongly that I had to reach up and rub the spot.
“Lord, what do I do?” I asked Him and then glanced down at where I’d opened my Bible randomly.
A grin pulled across my face as I read the verse.
Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” - John 21:16
The Lord’s answer was short, quick, and very clear.
I set down my coffee, went to grab my axe, and started chopping.
Ella could yell at me all she wanted—I wasn’t scared of her, but I was scared of disobeying God.
If He wanted me to chop wood for this woman, then that’s what I’d do. No matter the consequences.