Eden Hill by Bill Higgs Read Free Book Online

Madeline Crutcher? Well.
    He and Louise had hoped to raise a family here, to put down long tender roots in the rocky soil. He’d loved his work back in the early days, even the hard parts. Young and energetic, he found the days exciting and full of hope. The church was growing, with young families, veterans returning home, and babies booming.
    Louise. Even after twelve years, the pain of her sudden passing was a weight he couldn’t shake. Her death had left him insecure, broken, and unsure of his call. God was alwaysgood, but the unanswered questions were never far from his mind. Was he angry with God? Probably. Had he been knocked off his ministerial path? Certainly he’d wobbled a bit. Not a day went by without him wondering if he and Eden Hill wouldn’t both be better off if he were selling life insurance or aluminum siding. But then something always reminded him that his calling hadn’t changed yet. Still, it was hard to be thankful.
    Louise had died on Thanksgiving Day.
    Grover and Anna Belle had invited him over for the holiday yesterday, as they had for years, and offered strong encouragement along with good food. His church was solid, but little challenges kept coming along. All the things that weren’t taught in Bible college, and he’d had to learn the hard way. Would a little bit of grace from the Almighty be too much to ask?
    The machine still held a blank sheet of paper, and a full thirty minutes had gone by without a single hunt or peck at the keyboard. Something had to be done, and soon. All of his papers from Bible college were organized on the shelf behind him, and he pulled out two binders: one on the Psalms, and the other on Paul’s letters to the Corinthians. He considered the thickness of the material on the Psalter, looked at the clock, and chose the shorter New Testament books instead. Dog-eared and well-worn, some of the pages had little tabs with subjects written on them. One had two topics: thanksgiving and grace.
    Memories returned in a rush, especially those of a class on sermon preparation and delivery he’d taken his first year. Hisprofessor had been a gentle soul whose soft-spoken preaching style never shook the rafters, but whose words were penetrating and powerful. The man had said that grace and thanksgiving went hand in hand, and that everything given was given in grace. Everything.
    He opened his Bible to the text from 2 Corinthians and found himself in the fourth chapter, one of his favorites. The first verse immediately caught his eye, the one on which he’d initially centered his vocation: “Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not.” Easy to find; he’d underlined it years before. But what was that a bit below it? “For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.” Grace?
    And thanksgiving.
    Had he been given a chance to begin anew, and not even realized it? Had he been so jaded by the loss of Louise that he couldn’t even see the opportunity he’d been given? And wasn’t God’s grace wide enough to cover his own discouragement?
    Yes, yes, and yes.
    The men gathered at Welby’s last week had seemed concerned about the change the new Zipco might make in Eden Hill; he’d seen it in their eyes. And he had a few worries of his own. But might not change be a good thing, an opportunity even? Should he be the first to say so?
    And believe it?
    Well. His sermon would be on thanksgiving and grace, and things made new! Using his two forefingers, he began typing. He tipped his head back so his bifocals could do theirjob; he could never remember which key went with which letter. Soon an opening line appeared at the top of the page, and he gave the carriage return lever a resounding shove. Another line, and then another.

    It was well after eleven o’clock when he finished. Late again. The rain had finally ended, but the bucket was still announcing every drip