New Hope

By Joanne Miller

A young pastor is hired in a hurry by email. The church secretary has been warned before about a certain sloppiness in details. When the pastor steps off the bus it's immediately clear that this is not the person that New Hope intended to hire.
This is a woman.

It's only a temporary assignment for the summer, yet it's this pastor's first chance to do the one thing that she studied so long and hard to do.

For the time being she is allowed to stay, but things are not so easy at New Hope. Some years ago there was a theft of funds at the church. The culprit was found, convicted, and sent to prison. Now he's back in this small town and things are really heating up.

Some people are convinced that the true thief was never really found. They want the new pastor to find out the truth. But what if the truth is uglier than what they're prepared to face?

Being a pastor isn't easy at the best of times, but now it becomes very difficult.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne Miller
• Release date: Jun 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476327839

Joanne Miller

Joanne Miller was born the 2nd of eight children in Rochester, New York. She has written many skits which have been performed in churches and schools across the United States. Some of her skits have been translated for use in foreign countries. She has also written two plays, which have also been performed for live audiences. In addition, one of the plays was performed on the radio in the state of Washington. Some of her hobbies include reading, acting, tennis and golf. She and her husband now reside in Florida. They have three children and five grandchildren, who greatly enrich their lives.

Book preview

New Hope

By Joanne Miller

As the bus continued to relentlessly pull Roseport closer, I tried to smooth down my clothes and make myself as presentable as possible. For almost a year and a half I had been looking for my first real job. Now as I neared the people who were responsible for giving me a chance, my heart was racing and my hands were clammy.

What are you doing? I asked myself. What makes you think you can do this job? What makes you think they won’t just tell you to get back on that bus and go home?

No, I told myself. The Lord has opened this door for you and you’re going to do fine because God himself will equip you with everything good for doing His will. (Hebrews 13:21 New International Version)

The bus pulled over to the curb. I took a deep breath; it was now or never. Roseport was totally unknown to me in person, but I had done some research over the Internet. It was a small college town that swelled to twice its size when the students came back to school. Since it was early June the town was quieter than during the school year. There was no bus station so the bus just stopped at the main intersection of the town. It was a pleasant looking Main Street with quaint storefronts, flowers and old fashioned light poles. It was nearly 8:00 p.m. but still light out, thanks to daylight saving time.

Since most people were going on to the big city of Wyatt, New York there were only three people getting off the bus ahead of me. Two of them looked like a grandmother and grandson of 10 or 12. The other was a teen-ager with earrings everywhere imaginable. As I stepped off the bus I spotted what looked like my welcoming committee, one woman and two men. Marie Barrett was the one I’d been corresponding with, and I knew she must be the woman in the light pink pant suit with the bunnies embroidered on it. One of the men was bald and had a slight paunch. He was probably in his early 60s and I guessed that he was Larry Hines, the church handyman. The other man was tall, thin and distinguished. He looked like a take charge type who put up with no nonsense. That had to be Chuck Patterson. From my correspondence I knew he was a real estate broker and head of the Search Committee to find an interim pastor. It was funny to see the looks on their faces as they scanned the unlikely candidates in front of me. What wasn’t so funny was that they seemed to be looking past me as if I couldn’t possibly be the person they were expecting.

Excuse me, I said to the woman. Are you, Marie, New Hope’s church secretary?

Yes, she answered me in a very vague way, obviously hoping I’d just go away.

I’m Pastor Terry Held, your interim pastor. At that I thought she was going to faint. She went white as a sheet and the thin man standing behind her seemed to catch her as she sagged a bit. She succeeded in pulling herself together, though, and told me to follow her. The two men in the group grabbed my bags and I was hustled unceremoniously down a side street to what I later learned was called The Manse.

As we marched down the sidewalk my mind was racing. What could possibly be wrong? Did I have mustard on my face from the sandwich that my mother had packed for my trip? I had on my best linen suit. Didn’t this church believe in linen? Maybe they didn’t like the way I talked, although I didn’t sound too different from them. Maybe they thought I’d look older, but my resume had listed my age as 24. That was probably the one thing that had kept me from being hired as a pastor, or even an assistant pastor. Most seminary students started out as youth pastors and worked their way up, but I knew full well that my talents did not lie with children of any age.

My parents had both encouraged me to keep looking for what I felt the Lord had for me. They had told me that God would open the right door in His time. I must admit it had been very difficult to keep receiving rejection letters but, at last, New Hope, an apt name, had hired me sight unseen to fill in for their pastor as he took a three month Sabbatical. I just knew, if I was given a chance, people would understand that I could be an excellent pastor.

As we marched single file up the front steps of the Manse, I was able to get my first glimpse of the church. It was a lovely old building made out of rose-hued stone that sparkled in the setting sun. It had stained glass windows and a wide front lawn that was filled with flower beds bursting with color.

Marie led the way in the front door of the Manse. She opened the door from the wide foyer into a small waiting room.

Um, won’t you please have a seat, uh, uh Pastor? We need to have a short meeting, she told me. As the others marched into what looked like an office she backed into the same room pulling two beautiful pocket doors together and giving me a weak smile.

What in the world is the meaning of this? I heard Chuck hiss through clenched teeth just before the doors closed.

I have no idea. I didn’t know! Marie wailed. Your committee picked the candidate. Why are you yelling at me?

How could this have happened? Obviously, Chuck wasn’t backing off at all.

Let’s figure out what did happen, Larry suggested. Remember this was all done in a big hurry. When Pastor Lawson left last Saturday we thought we were all set. Pastor Jerry Thomas was going to come out of retirement and cover for him until the fall, but then Pastor Jerry broke his hip on Sunday afternoon. He’ll be alright but not in time to help us out. Our pastor was in England and our interim was in the hospital; we had to do something!

But how is it that we didn’t know about this? Chuck demanded.

Let’s take a look at the resume, Larry said. Where is it, Marie?

Right here.

No, I want to see the original.

It’s here somewhere, Marie hunted through her disorganized file cabinet. Here it is!

What’s this? Chuck demanded.

Oh, I just spilled a drop of my coffee, that’s all, Marie answered.

You spilled a drop of coffee on the original resume, didn’t you Marie? Chuck was on a witch hunt it seemed.

Big deal, it was just a little drop. I fixed it.

Yes, you fixed it alright. You smudged it and couldn’t read it so you typed 2 new letters in. The only thing is they weren’t the right letters! Chuck was really shouting now. When you hold the original up to the light you can see the letters are different! How many times have I told you that your sloppiness would get you into real trouble someday?

Chuck, calm down, Larry tried to defuse him. What are you talking about?

Right here, Larry. See these two letters? They’re different from all the other letters.

Yeah, I see that. So what? What difference could 2 little letters make? Larry asked.

What difference? What difference? Chuck was nearly beside himself. I’ll tell you what difference! The word is NOT tidy, it’s LADY! She told us in her cover letter that she was a lady pastor, not a tidy pastor, and Marie CORRECTED it!

I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to do it, Marie wailed.

Of course, you didn’t, Marie. Larry consoled her. The question is what are we going to do now?

We don’t have very many options, do we? Chuck demanded. We’ve never had a woman in the pulpit of New Hope Community Church and I don’t think the congregation will want to start now, however she does have a signed contract.

Yes, but it’s only for 12 weeks, Larry said.

One week or 12, this isn’t going to sit well with the people. What exactly are we going to tell them? Chuck wanted to know.

Let’s look at our options, Larry suggested as Marie sniffled in the background. Tomorrow is Sunday and we need someone to preach. We don’t have much choice for tomorrow. We’ll just have to explain the best we can. After that we could do a couple of things. First, we could pay her for the 12 weeks and just find someone else to preach. The problem with that is who could we get? We had a terrible time finding someone in the first place.

Chuck said, That’s putting it lightly. Who wants to commit to 12 weeks as an interim pastor?

Well, we do have some other options.

I’m listening.

Well, we could just have praise and worship services for the summer. Or we could have people from the congregation share a little each week, Larry suggested.

We’ll have to let the people decide. No matter what, we’re committed to paying her, Chuck observed, Unless…

Unless what? Marie asked hopefully.

Unless she would release us from the contract. After all, we didn’t have any idea she was a woman. We didn’t intend to hire a woman pastor.

But we did and I don’t know if it’s right to ask her to release us. I mean is that what God would want us to do? Larry asked.

Sitting just outside the office, even with the doors closed, I couldn’t help but hear what they were saying. Prayer seemed like the best option right now. Lord, I believe that you brought me here. You don’t make mistakes. Please show these good people the right thing to do. I really want to stay here and give it my all, Lord, but if that’s not your will, I’ll understand.

Just as I finished praying, someone appeared in the doorway to the foyer.

Evenin, Ma’am, he said.

Good evening. I’m Pastor Terry Held, I extended my hand.

I’m Chester Bartlett, Marie’s husband. I had to hand it to Chester. He didn’t even flinch at the obvious fact that I was a woman, even though he certainly couldn’t have known either.

Oh, yes. It’s nice to meet you, I told Chester.

Just then the doors were thrown back and the three of them emerged giving me sickly smiles. Were they going to ask me to revoke the contract and show me the door? If so, what would I do?

You may have heard a bit of what we talked about in there, Chuck said to me.

In truth, I had heard nearly everything up until I started praying.

We didn’t know you were a woman when we asked you to come here. We just knew you were young and inexperienced. The plain fact of the matter is we’ve never had a woman in the pulpit of New Hope Community Church. We don’t know how the congregation is going to take it, Chuck explained.

I see.

The thing is we have tomorrow’s service in less than 12 hours. We’d like you to preach as planned, and then we’ll have a meeting of the congregation after the second service, Chuck said.

Fine, I managed to croak out.

The first service is at 9:00. You need to be there by 8:00 to go over the plans for the service, get a microphone, and lead prayer time, Larry informed me.

Fine. Great vocabulary, I berated myself. Is that all you can say?

I’m Larry Hines, by the way. This is Chuck Patterson, Marie Bartlett and Chester Bartlett.

Glad to meet you all.

We’ll say good-night. We’ll be there by 8:00 tomorrow as well, Larry told me. I’m not sure if it was meant to reassure me or warn me.

See you then. Larry and Chuck left, but not before Chuck gave Marie a dirty look.

I’ll show you to your room. Chester, get the, uh, Pastor’s bags, Marie ordered.

We went up a beautiful old staircase to the second floor. We circled around the stairwell and came to a door at the front of the house. Marie opened it and led me inside. The room was breathtaking. The walls were a soft green and the bed was a 4-poster cherry wood with a canopy. It had to be a valuable antique. The comforter was forest green and cranberry, and very masculine. The windows were hung with white eyelet curtains, which would surely let in a lot of light in the morning as long as I didn’t also pull the shades. I loved a bedroom filled with morning light.

It’s lovely, I told Marie and Chester.

The bathroom’s in here. She led me through a good-sized walk-in closet to a large and beautifully appointed bathroom. Obviously this bathroom was added after the house was built. Someone had had the idea to access it through the closet. Unconventional, but it worked.

Oh and here are your keys, Marie said holding them up and pointing out each one. This one is to the front door of the Manse, this one is for the back door and these are for the church. This one here is for the door of the church. You’ll learn what all the others are for.

Thank you so much, Marie. I’ll come down and lock up after you and Chester leave.

No need of that. We’re not leaving, Chester said.

You’re not?

No, we live here, Marie said. We have an apartment over the back part of the Manse. You get to it from the kitchen. Speaking of the kitchen, there’s a lot of food in the refrigerator and the cupboards. Just help yourself, unless there’s something you’d like me to get for you right now. It was so plain that she expected a negative reply that I didn’t dare ask for anything.

No, no. Nothing, I assured her.

Good-night, then she said as she pushed Chester from the room and firmly closed my door.

I had dreamt of this welcome to my first job for so long. I had always pictured a large dining room table with a punch bowl in the middle, flowers and candles on either side. There would be homemade cookies, cakes, pies, brownies of every kind and plenty of smiling, welcoming faces crowding into the dining room. Tonight had not been quite like that! Instead I felt like I’d been punched.

What would happen in the morning? Would the church revolt and refuse to listen to my carefully prepared sermon? Would they just leave like so many rats deserting a sinking ship? Would they throw tomatoes?

My stomach began to growl and I realized I hadn’t had anything since lunch except, a cup of tea. When the bus had stopped for supper I’d been too nervous to eat. I made my way down the front stairs to the foyer. Where was the kitchen? I looked in several rooms along the way. One was the one I’d waited in, behind that was Marie’s office. Off of her office was the Pastor’s (my?) office and behind that was a snug library filled with every imaginable book a Pastor could want. If I hadn’t been so hungry, I’d surely have just stayed there and figured I was in heaven.

There was a good sized powder room behind the library as well as a smaller one tucked under the stairs.

At the opposite end of the hallway from the foyer was a swinging wooden door and when I pushed it open a cavernous kitchen met me. It was old-fashioned with oversized cupboards that reached to the high ceiling, a professional looking range and large sized stainless steel refrigerator. Trying to be as quiet as I could I brewed a cup of tea and made myself some toast. Carrying both out of the kitchen I looked in the room to my left. It was a charming breakfast room with mullioned windows overlooking the yard between the Manse and the church. Off of that was a dining room with a conspicuously empty table. To the front of that was a large and gently worn living room. It contained two full sized sofas, numerous chairs and side tables, as well as some very well done art work. As I continued my foray, I found myself coming through a door that led from the living room to the bottom of the stairs.

The Manse didn’t contain that many rooms but its rooms were large and well apportioned. The congregation numbered around 500, including children, and I found myself wondering how a comparatively small congregation could afford such an obviously expensive rectory.

As I made my way back upstairs to the bedroom, I remembered I needed to call my parents. They must be wondering about me by now.

Setting the toast down on the bedside table I lifted my teacup in mock salute as I looked at myself in the mirror opposite the bed. Welcome, Pastor Held. We’re so glad to have you here. We’re sure you’re going to be just what this church needs, I congratulated myself.

Whatever tomorrow would bring I could handle it. After all, I was an adult now, not to mention a Pastor. Nothing would come my way that God and I couldn’t handle. I hit my parent’s number and as soon as I heard my mother’s voice I burst into tears.

Chapter Two

The clock read 5:07 a.m. Punching the pillow yet another time, I shut my eyes and tried to go back to my fitful sleep. The night had been long and dark. My mother’s words still echoed in my head, Trust God, Dear. He has a plan for you. Knowing it was true in my head and making my heart listen were two different stories.

What a night, I thought. When I had finally fallen asleep, I had dreamed that when I went to the church it was filled with worshippers, but all of the doors were locked and my keys wouldn’t work. In my dream they were large colored plastic keys, and I couldn’t find the ones Marie had given me. As I pounded on the doors, I could hear everyone inside singing. The louder I pounded the louder they sang, until I woke myself up trying to make them hear me. It had been 2:18 a.m.

For nearly another hour I tossed and turned and finally fell asleep again. This time I dreamt that I was in the church and it was time for