The Right Card

By Dorothy Alease Phillips

Scott Jacobs has everything – youth, good looks, intelligence, charisma, and a thriving church to pastor; yet, he has a need. He longs for a God-given helpmate. He wants a wife. Courting under the scrutiny of a congregation, however, presents multiple challenges.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Dec 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781458222947

Dorothy Alease Phillips

Dorothy Alease Phillips, a former high school teacher, taught English and journalism for over 22 years. She was married to the late Dr. Chester Phillips, a Baptist minister, and aided in his ministry for over 40 years. As a teacher, minister’s wife, and mother of three children, Phillips has geared her writings to various age groups in short stories, teen novels, romance novels, plays, and free-lance nonfiction. She attends writers’ conferences to hone her craft and to fellowship with other authors. Phillips earned a B. S. degree from Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina, and a Master’s degree from East Carolina University in Greenville, North Carolina. Now residing in North Augusta, South Carolina, she still drives, takes exercise three times a week with Silver Sneakers, attends church services regularly, leads an active social life, and writes for publication. She considers herself blessed.

Book preview

Chapter 1

J udith Johnson had browsed the card counter for almost fifteen minutes, reading an assortment of birthday cards. Now, lingering at the humorous section, she smiled as she read a series of comical verses. Holding a card shaped like an hour-glass woman, suddenly she laughed. Aware of her outburst, she glanced around to see if anyone had heard. She was startled to see a tall, young man standing six feet away with arms crossed loosely across his chest, looking at her with a bemused smile.

Oh, my, she said, I didn’t mean to laugh aloud, but this one is funny. As he approached her, she handed him the card. See if you don’t think it’s funny.

As he read the card, Judith gave a quick, examining glance. Tall and handsome. Dignified. Stylish, grey suit. White shirt. Maroon tie. She wanted to put her hand over her heart; for, strangely, it began beating rapidly. She did not move.

Having read the card, the stranger laughed. You ‘re right, he said. This is funny."

Another quick assessment. Beautiful white teeth and a smile that brought a dimple to his right cheek.

Compelled to give an explanation, Judith said, I’m looking for cards for my mother’s birthday next week. I have this little oddity: I always give her two cards – one that is humorous and one that is sentimental. I like for her to have a good laugh but then I like for her to know how much I treasure her.

I like this humorous card, the young man said. Is there another one like it? I need a card for my mother. too.

Smiling, Judith took down another similar card.

He moved closer and said, "By the way, my name is Scott Jacobs, and you are?

Judith Johnson, she said and extended her hand.

He took her hand to shake but did not let it go. Now, Judith Johnson, since we have been introduced, I need to ask you something. He paused; her heart raced. With mocked seriousness he asked, Will you marry me?

Judith laughed and answered, Yes, but it will have to be after next week, for I have a lot of papers to grade.

So, you are a teacher. That is perfect. Scott said. I’m a minister. I pastor the Community Church in Zilford just 35 miles away. Preachers and teachers make great combinations, you know.

Judith smiled and turned away. I need to pick out my sentimental card. Look at this, she said. I had almost settled for this one earlier.

I like it, he said. Give me one like that. Incidentally, when is your mother’s birthday?

October, the seventh, she said.

Can you believe it, he said with amusement. My mother’s birthday is October, the seventh! Now, that just goes to show you that we should get married; we would never forget our mothers’ birthdays.

Judith laughed.

As they paid for their cards, Scott said, Judith Johnson, would you go to Starbuck’s with me for a cup of coffee?

She hesitated, looking at her watch. I’m going shopping with my mother at two o’clock.

Scott looked at his watch. Good. That gives us plenty of time for two or three cups of coffee and a dozen sweet rolls too.

When Scott touched her elbow as he escorted her across the street, Judith was aware of his nearness, his cologne, his manliness.

Over coffee, the two learned much about each other. Sometimes they chuckled; sometimes they spoke with quite seriousness.

She was an only child. He had two brothers and one sister.

Her widowed mother lived near her. His parents lived 200 miles away.

She had taught senior English for two years. He had been pastor of the Community Church for a year. It was his first pastorate.

At length, Scott looked at Judith and said quietly, You know when I was praying early this morning, I told the Lord I needed a wife. I, also, told Him some things I wanted in a wife, and one thing I prayed was, ‘Lord, if it can be your will, please give a wife with a keen sense of humor.’ When I saw you giggling over those cards, I said, ‘Lord, I didn’t know you were going to answer me so quickly.’ That’s why I asked you to marry me. Now, I’m not going to ask you again at this time because I know you have papers to grade, but I truly believe I will ask you again.

Judith smiled and surprised herself by saying, "I’ll hold you to that so that; someday I may tell our children and grandchildren that you asked me to be your wife the first time you saw me.

He reached across the table and said, Let’s shake on that. He added, I have one other request. He covered their two hands with his free hand. Could we name our first son Jude Jacobs? Jude after you and Jacobs after me. Jude Jacobs. That sounds good. It would be a good biblical name for a pro quarterback.

Judith shook her head and laughed. This wonderful man. How much fun it would be to be his wife.

Before they left the table, Jacob removed a small, leather book from his jacket. Give me your telephone number, Judith. I will be calling you. He wrote down her number and reached for the check.

Judith, there is one other thing I need to say. I flirted with you today, didn’t I?

Yes, you did; but did you notice: I flirted back?

Scott chuckled. I’m glad you did. Only, to me, it did not seem that we were flirting. Our light conversation was such a natural thing; but I must admit, it was out of character for me. You see, I’m very careful around women – seminary training, you know. I never, never flirt. I do not take women to ride in my car. I do not visit in a home where a young lady is alone. I have all the safety guards. Now, how do we account for what happened today?

Maybe, it’s because you prayed this morning, and I have been praying for the right husband since I was 12 years old, and you did ask me to marry you.

They both laughed, and Scott said, Good answer; and now, Judith Johnson, I’ll walk you to your car.

Scott drove below the speed limit on the way to Zilford. He wanted time to think about Judith Johnson. Her beauty. Her hair. It made him think of writers who had compared girl’s hair to corn silk. Now he understood. The description was just right for Judith’s hair, blonde with streaks of beige and gold. Her eyes were blue, a blue unlike the blue of his eyes. His eyes were a gray blue; but hers, a clear light blue.

He remembered how she answered when he, teasingly asked, In the last two years, what has happened in your life to bring you great joy? She had lowered her lashes and said, I know, but I can’t tell you. She fingered the little cross hanging around her neck.

Why? he said. Was it something illegal or sinful?

Oh, nothing like that. It is just that I would rather someone else told you.

There is no one else; so, Judy, if I may call you Judy, you will have to tell me. What made you happy?

Seemingly, she debated answering; but then she shrugged her shoulders and smiling said quietly, I was voted ‘Teacher of the Year’ two years in a row. I’m sure I did not deserve it, but I was happy because my fellow teachers honored me that way. Now, in all fairness, Scott (if I should call you Scott and not Preacher), you must tell me what has made you happy in the last two years.

I can do that easily, Scott replied. I finished college and received a call to pastor the Zilford Community Church. For a year and two months, I have had the privilege to lead a congregation of wonderful people. Did I tell you? I love being a preacher and pastoring a church.

I’m sure you are a super preacher. She touched his arm and added, By the way, did I tell you? I love teaching. They both smiled.

In his rearview mirror, Scott saw a car approaching and moved over to the right lane. He had been riding in the left lane only when there was no other traffic. He was in no hurry. He was enjoying driving leisurely, remembering the afternoon spent with Judith Johnson.

Judith had finished college. That was good. She loved her work and that was good.

On impulse, Scott took a Rest Area exit, pulled into a remote parking space, turned off the motor, and began to pray. Father, he said. I need to talk with you about what has happened in the last few hours. I’m concerned about my behavior. You know how careful I’ve always been. Since high school, I’ve sought your leadership in setting up standards for my life. Today, I met a young woman and I’m puzzled by my behavior. It’s weird, but from the moment I saw Judith Johnson, I felt as though I had known her all my life. Now, Father, you know that I prayed about a wife early this morning. Genesis records you said it was not good for man to live alone and you gave Adam a helpmate. Today, I asked you for a helpmate. I need to know. Is Judith Johnson the helpmate you have picked for me? It’s just so very strange that, this very day, we met as we did and felt so very at ease with each other. You know, Father, I have never engaged in such frivolous chitchat with a stranger before." He continued his talk with the Lord for several minutes and then sat quietly to let the Lord speak to his heart. At length, he pulled out onto the highway.

He stopped at Zilford’s main red light. The hub of the little 25,000 city was always alive on Saturdays. He rode slowly down Main Street, watching for people crossing the streets, still thinking about Judith. Judy to him. She was just the right height; the top of her head reached the top of his shoulders. And then he thought of her quick wit. He liked that she had mentioned telling their children and grandchildren about his speedy proposal.

He turned into the long driveway that led to the Community Church, a cream-colored brick building nestled back amid a grove of huge oak trees. As he drove into the main parking lot, he was surprised to see several cars parked near his office. There was Dr. Gilham’s car, Fred Barnell’s new Cadillac, Mitch Morgan’s Buick, Josh Morton’s new truck; Ken Harmon’s Town car; and two other vehicles he could not identify.

Dr. Gilham met him at the door.

Hi, Dr. Gilham, Scott said with a smile as he extended his hand. Dr. Gilham neither responded to the greeting nor the handshake."

When you have hung up your coat, he said curtly, the deacons would like to see you in the conference room."

Scott wanted to ask what was up, but Dr. Gilham turned and walked down the hall.

Suddenly, Scott felt a foreboding, a sinking feeling. He could not imagine what was wrong. The church was thriving. Each week new people were coming into the fellowship, and he could think of no great problem.

As he entered the conference room, he noted that Dr. Gilham walked to the head of the table where he, as the pastor, had always sat. Three men sat on each side of the table, leaving one empty chair.

At first, he did not sit. Gentlemen, he said, what’s going on?

Dr. Gilham seated himself in the main chair. We are here to talk to you about…about you.

Stunned, Scott felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. It was the same kind of feeling he had experienced the first time a lineman had plowed into his mid-section. I do not understand, he said.

Sit down and we will explain, Dr. Gilham said. The other deacons sat still except for mild-mannered Ken Harmon. He squirmed in his seat and lowered his head. Dr. Gilham began a stern rebuke. We are not pleased with your leadership in our church.

Scott could not speak.

For the past several weeks you have been preaching, what we consider, unacceptable sermons. We are here to say that unless you make some changes, we are prepared to ask you to resign.

In disbelief, Scott gulped. He said, I do not understand. Our congregation is growing with every service. And you men know that we added sixty-five people to our membership this past year.

That has nothing to do with our complaint. Dr. Gilham said. If we get them, it is our job to see that we keep them. Your preaching will eventually drive them away.

Scott’s mind raced to the three times in the past week that church families had told him that he was the best preacher they had ever heard. Elderly Ben Barnes had declared that he was a better preacher than Billy Graham. Scott always paid little attention to such comments, but he did appreciate kind encouragements.

I spend a lot of time preparing my sermons, the young minister said. I do a lot of research and I try to make my sermons interesting.

Ken Harmon dared to speak out. You are a good speaker, Son. No one is saying that.

Dr. Gilham, a Duke graduate who usually exalted himself above other Community Church laymen, gave a scolding glance to Mr. Harmon, and once again Mr. Harmon squirmed in his seat and lowered his head.

I’m afraid you are going to have to be more specific, Scott said, regaining an inner composure. He stood up, his six feet-four-inch frame facing the arrogant doctor.

Very well. We do not like your last series of messages, Dr. Gilham said, slightly intimidated by Scott’s sudden sense of control.

Now, let me see, Scott said. I have been preaching a series of messages on the Ten Commandments. Am I to understand you men do not believe in the Ten Commandments?

The other deacons spoke up. No. No, nothing like that. We believe in the Ten Commandments.

What then? Scott asked. Was there error in what I taught?

No, Dr. Gilham said. Dr. Jarmon, our former pastor, did not preach the way you do. He was a scholar and never stooped to stress certain things. For instance, last week you said things you could have left unsaid.

Last week? Last Sunday, if I remember right, I preached on the seventh commandment. Did I not use good discretion in handling the subject of adultery and fornication? I tried to keep in mind the women and children in our audience, but, as your pastor, I am commanded to preach the whole counsel of God.

You may need to preach the whole counsel, but you went too far when you said that pre-marital sex and extra-marital sex are sins. Not everyone agrees with that.

That’s right, Mitch Morton, who was a known philanderer, blurted out and then looked embarrassed by his own comment.

What does the Bible say? Scott asked.

We know what the Bible says, Fred Barnell said ."but sometimes you have used the pulpit to meddle in things that are not your business.

I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m very careful to stick to what scripture says on any issue, Brother Fred.

Dr. Gilham interrupted. We didn’t bring you here today to hear you preach, he said angrily. You either hear us and change what you are doing or you will be asked to resign one month from now.

Scott narrowed his eyes. Do you think this is what the church body wants?

Still acting as the sole spokesman, Dr. Gilham responded, We are the Deacon Board of Community Church, and we make the decisions. He emphasized the word, we.

He placed his two hands down on the desk and looked up at Scott in defiance Now, we have said what we want to say and you are excused.

Scott paused, wondering if he should say more. He gazed around the table at the men who, a year ago, had invited him to pastor the Community Church. Most of the men avoided eye contact. It was then that he felt the divine leadership of the Lord. Good evening, gentlemen, he said calmly and left the room.

In the parking lot, Scott wanted to put his head down on the steering wheel to release the hurt bottled within, but he knew he could not do that. Some of the men were exiting the church. A loud rapping against his window startled Scott. He turned to see Dr. Gilham glaring at him. Roll down the window, he demanded. I want to talk to you.

Would you like to get into the car? Scott said.

Yes, I will do that, Dr. Gilham said, going around the car. Once seated, he said, "Jacobs, I suppose you know that one family did