Where Sheep May Safely Graze

By Phyllis Staton Campbell

When Jim, the pastor of a prestigious city church, is blinded in Iraq, he and his organist wife, Amy, find their faith challenged. Not only must they adjust to Jims blindness and a new marriage, but to the loss of his pulpit, when the congregation asks him to step down because of his blindness, in spite of his successful rehab training.

They go to serve a congregation in a rural village, where in addition to the usual duties of a pastor and his wife, they pray for animals, cope with a huge drafty parsonage, befriend a young couple, secretly married, and help bring a baby into the world in the middle of a flood. The characters are like animals and people the reader may meet every day, those people who will invite you in for iced tea and the latest news.

The reader will laugh, and cry and find inspiration as Pastor Jim and Amy struggle and find the will of God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781973605157

Phyllis Staton Campbell

Phyllis Staton Campbell, who was born blind, writes about the world she knows best. She calls on her experience as teacher of the blind, peer counselor and youth transition coordinator. She says that she lives the lives of her characters: lives of sorrow and joy; triumph and failure; hope and despair. That she and her characters sometimes see the world in a different way, adds depth to the story. She sees color in the warmth of the sun on her face, the smell of rain, the call of a cardinal, and God, in a rainbow of love and grace. Although she was born in Amherst County, Virginia, she has lived most of her life in Staunton, Virginia, where she serves as organist at historic Faith Lutheran church, not far from the home she shared with her husband, Chuck, who waits beyond that door called death.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Amy stood in the dimly lit narthex. The day was warm for March, and she could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning. From the sanctuary came the strains of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, that beautiful tribute to the ultimate love that is God. She had played it many times for others who had stood where she stood now, but not until she met Jim had she understood just what this moment of joy could mean.

In a matter of minutes, Amy Brandt would be gone, and Amy Miller would take her place. No longer would she be Amy, the lonely child raised in the quiet of her grandmother’s home, following the sudden death of her parents.

I’ll do my best by you, child, Grandma had told her the day of her parents’ funeral, but I’m an old woman. Your mama came along when I’d lost all hope of a child. Your grandpa and I could hardly believe it. She was the apple of his eye, as they say. He only had a few years to be with her before God called him home. Now here you are.

Amy had to fight the desire to tell her that she hadn’t chosen to be there.

Grandma went on, winding a ball of blue yarn as she talked. Who would believe that both your mama and daddy would be taken at once like that, in an accident that wasn’t their fault?

Whose fault was it, Grandma? Amy asked, struggling to push away the tears that kept trying to fall. She wanted to understand why those bright, loving presences had suddenly become the cold, lifeless things she had seen at the funeral home.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault, Grandma almost whispered. Amy saw tears in large, brown eyes so like her own. There was ice on the road. It just looked like the road was wet—black ice, they call it. A lot of people are fooled, just like your daddy was.

It wasn’t the answer the ten-year-old Amy had wanted, but she had been unable to express what she wanted to know: Why was she left alone? Deep in her heart, she knew Grandma loved her, yet the woman never seemed able to show it.

In the years to come, Amy sometimes marveled that she had never blamed God for taking her parents. She could only suppose that it had been the early training, the prayer, and the Bible reading that had been such an important part of that life with her parents.

Her father, a pastor, had told her, Always remember that God has a plan for our lives. Sometimes, like when your kitten died, it is hard for us to understand His purpose, and often we never see it. Amy, never forget that, no matter what, He is in control.

Although she had cried quietly in the night, the little girl had accepted her loss. She missed her parents and wanted it to be a bad dream. Still, she couldn’t remember ever blaming God.

She tried to be grateful for Grandma, but sometimes it was hard. Why can’t I go to Karen’s party? the thirteen-year-old Amy had asked.

Because I said so. With Grandma, that was the only necessary answer.

It was much later before Amy realized that Karen’s parents didn’t live the way the parents of most of her friends lived. They sometimes had violent arguments and took drugs in front of Karen and her friends.

She would have understood if Grandma had explained, but she had gone on, frowning at the potato she was scrubbing, without a word of explanation. On the night of the party, Amy was not at all grateful to God for Grandma.

Even now, standing in the quiet church, Amy wondered what her life would have been like without her music. She had started lessons when she was five, and by the time she was eight, she had been ready to play for a church service, even the intricate service music. Grandma had never understood how the music spoke to her very soul. Amy knew that Grandma was proud of her ability when she used some of the insurance money from her parents for the best teachers she could find. She had stubbornly refused to touch the money for anything else, no matter how hard Amy had begged.

Only God knows what he’s got down the road for you, Amy, she said to Amy’s plea for the latest computer. I’m saving your money. A body needs money in this world.

Amy had buried herself in her music, never doubting where it would take her. She would use it to the glory of God. After graduating from Murray Conservatory of Music, she went to the seminary.

You surely don’t mean to be a pastor! Grandma seemed almost scandalized.

No, Grandma, Amy had said, smiling, I want to be a minister of music. Pity the poor congregation that would have to listen to me preach every Sunday.

Grandma surprised her by saying But blessed is the one who will hear you play. I’m right proud of you, Amy.

I might not find a job playing, Amy warned, but I’ll take what God gives me.

She did find a job where she would be playing the organ and supervising all but the chancel choir. Although this was something of an unusual situation, it suited everybody.

Bishop Harrison had explained to her that the present choir director was in poor health and had asked for a lighter load. Since you majored in organ, we feel that you can pull all of this together, he told her when he discussed the job with her.

Grace Church had broken away from an older church and built in a more affluent part of Adamsville, not far from Richmond, the capital of Virginia. No doubt this was more appealing to the young professionals who made up the larger part of the membership.

They’re looking for both a pastor and a music director, the bishop went on to tell her, and I think they will work hard to get just the right match.

It had been during her second week at Grace Church that she became aware of a presence in the organ loft as she was practicing. She looked up directly into the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen. They seemed to catch and pull her into their very depths. With an effort, she managed to look away to examine the rest of the face. She had been so absorbed by those eyes that she hadn’t noticed anything else. His skin was deeply tanned, and he had the kind of mouth that seemed made for smiling. His hair, brown and bleached by the sun, was cut short and insisted on curling.

Don’t stop, he said in a voice that would place him in the bass section of the choir. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I heard the organ and couldn’t resist coming to listen.

No, you aren’t interrupting at all, she said, surprised to hear that her voice sounded normal. Her heart was beating faster than any heart had the right to beat. After all, he had appeared from out of nowhere. No wonder my heart is pounding, she thought.

I’m Jim Miller. The resonance of his voice sent her heart pumping madly again. I’m doing the service on Sunday. Phil Talbot was showing me around when he was called to the office for a phone call. I sort of followed the sound of the organ.

She knew there would be a trial sermon on Sunday, but this stereotype of the boy next door wasn’t what she had expected. Actually, she didn’t know what she had expected. Probably someone more like Dr. Johnson, the silver-haired pastor who had spoken the previous Sunday. She somehow thought that Dr. Johnson wouldn’t make hearts beat like castanets.

And you’re Amy Brandt, he was saying.

Yes, but how did you know? She was acting like an adolescent girl who had just met the captain of the football team.

I saw it in the bulletin. You are the organist and minister of music, aren’t you? he asked, straightening from his slouched position against the back of the console. It wasn’t until then that she realized that he was over six feet tall.

Oh, my. If he isn’t married, he soon will be, she thought.

I’d better get back where Phil left me, he said, starting to turn, or he’ll think I ran out on him.

Somehow she knew he would be Grace Church’s next pastor.

That had been in October, and as the earth drew in on itself and death came to nature, the joy of their love grew. It wasn’t the turbulent emotion seen on television and in the movies, but a gentle coming together of spirits. Each felt what the other felt. The renewed promise of a sunrise over the snow-covered city; the sadness of the death of a squirrel beside the road, still clutching a nut in its mouth; and the trusting embrace of a child touched them in a special way that needed no words. Each knew instinctively how the other felt.

There had been no need for the words Will you marry me? He had slipped the ring, worn by his grandmother and her mother before her, on her finger and taken her in his arms.

I love you, Amy, he whispered against the silk of her hair. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’ll have me?

Oh, yes! Yes! she said, catching her breath and then giving a little sigh of contentment.

They planned a wedding for the following October.

That way, we’ll both be eligible for vacation time, the ever-practical Amy said, grinning like a little girl.

He took her to Maryland to meet his mother in January. Amy had always thought her five feet two, 109-pound frame small, but Sarah, Jim’s mother, made her feel large and almost clumsy. She stood four feet ten inches and weighed around ninety pounds. Her skin was so fair that it seemed transparent, and was even more so in contrast to her black hair and sparkling black eyes.

I almost think I’m looking at my husband when I look up at my big boy, she told Amy. My husband died when Jim was five, and I can’t tell you what a joy my boy has been to me over the years. You’re very lucky, my dear.

Amy had to fight the urge to tell her that it was God, not luck, that had brought them together, but she’d simply smiled.

Now about the wedding, dear. Sarah suddenly became brisk, pulling a notepad toward her. Jim tells me your parents are dead. You’ll have the wedding here, of course. All of our friends are here, and I’ll take care of everything, just like your mother.

Amy had wanted to remind her that she had a grandmother, and that they both had friends at Grace Church in Virginia. There was command in the tiny voice, and Amy had told herself that she didn’t care. They would belong to each other in the sight of God and of man, as it said in the service. What did it matter where it was held?

As Grandma had always maintained, God is in control, and even Sarah couldn’t get the best of God. In February, the US forces entered the conflict in Iraq, and Jim, a member of the reserves, was called to go with them as chaplain of his unit.

How can they send you out on such short notice? Amy had asked when he’d told her he would be leaving in March.

I took basic training some time ago, he explained, and I’ve had previous deployments, but nothing like this. I’m not sure how I feel about this conflict. But this is my country, and those men and women will need the comfort of God. It’s as simple as that.

As always, she had understood the pull toward peace and the equal need to give peace to the hearts and minds of those in combat. Amy had never known the physical combat he would be facing. She had known the combat of the heart and spirit, however, and without giving it a thought, she had said, Yes, you must go.

Amy, will you marry me before I go? Jim asked in a rush. Maybe I’m being unfair, but …

You know you don’t even have to ask, Amy declared, tears making tracks through her carefully applied makeup.

The time had passed more quickly than Amy thought possible. There had been so much to do, and things hit a major snag at the very beginning of the plans.

I’m furious, just furious, Sarah had said over the phone. As much as I give to that church! And yet Dr. Hilton tells me it’s booked for that weekend.

Once again, God had taken control, and in spite of Sarah, the wedding would be held at Grace Church after all.

Amy’s special day had arrived, and here she was, standing quietly at the back of the church, wearing Grandma’s white satin wedding gown. Her heart sang along with the music played by Helen, who had attended the conservatory with her.

The organ moved into the familiar Trumpet Call of The Bridal Chorus, and the small procession made its way into the sanctuary.

Amy had never thought of herself as pretty, with her brown hair and a mouth she felt was too large, but as she moved up the aisle on Uncle Bob’s arm, Jim knew she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Later, he would remember that picture of her moving confidently toward him down the long aisle. Uncle Bob smiled down at her, and she answered with her own brilliant smile.

She looked to where Jim stood waiting for her, and the smile changed. To the average observer, it was the same, but for Jim it was what he thought of as her special smile for him alone. It was the kind of smile that could reach across a room, and say, I love you.

The afternoon sun formed a halo around her head. It would be the way he would always see her in the dark that was to come, crushing their plans and their dreams and threatening their very love.

Chapter 2

Time passed in a blur. One minute Jim was lifting her veil for a kiss, and the next they were standing in the receiving line at the Country Club. A chandelier that would have looked at home in Carnegie Hall cast light from hundreds of flickering bulbs down on the brightly dressed well-wishers.

Amy had wanted a simple reception in the parish hall with special friends and relatives. As usual, however, Sarah had swept her along with her firm voice and decisive gestures.

No, Amy, that just isn’t done, she had said, making what Amy thought of as a shooing gesture. Dear, that may be done in, well, small churches, but certainly not in St. Luke’s, where Jim and I attend, and certainly not at Grace Church, where he’s the pastor. We’ll have the reception and dinner at the country club. Come on, and let’s get busy on the guest list.

Amy had tried to tell her that there wasn’t time for invitations. In typical Sarah fashion, she’d forged ahead, and to Amy’s amazement, Sarah’s social secretary, Carol, managed to bully a printer into doing the job. Carol also hired a messenger to hand-deliver them.

It was then that Amy fully realized the difference between the simple world where she had grown up and Jim’s world. Of course, she’d seen the huge glass and brick house where they lived. Probably because she had been so nervous about meeting Jim’s mother, she hadn’t thought about it. She and Grandma had lived comfortably but frugally, whereas Jim and his mother had lived luxuriously.

But it will cost so much, she had protested when Jim told her that Sarah had already arranged for a catered dinner. The bride’s family is supposed to pay for the wedding. Grandma and Uncle Bob simply don’t have that kind of money, and neither do I. She had taken a deep breath for courage and gone on. I don’t want to start our life together with a debt. I don’t charge things unless it’s necessary, and this isn’t.

Mother wants to do it, he said, and she caught a hint of Sarah’s firm tone.

There was a silence between them, broken only by a siren on the next street. Then he said, She understands, and she wants this big wedding. Remember, she doesn’t have a daughter, and this is her only chance. Let her have her fun.

Amy had given in, managing to push aside the thought that this really wasn’t her wedding. She told herself that it didn’t matter, as long as they could be married before he left, as long as they had that one precious night together.

She had known that she should stand up to Sarah, and at the same time, she tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. She was fortunate to have such a generous mother-in-law.

Even as a child, she had hated confrontation. It was so much easier to give in to other children, giving up a cherished toy or book rather than fight for it. Instead, she would go off alone to watch the clouds or spy on a bird building her nest.

You simply haven’t found something you think is important enough to fight for it, Grandma had told her one day when her Aunt Mary had insisted that she make her cousin Harry give back her book.

Leave the child alone, Mary, Grandma had said when Amy had burst into tears. Stop crying, Amy. Big girls don’t cry. It’s all right if that’s what you want to do. Someday, you’ll find something you think is worth fighting for.

Amy thought that was the reason she had never seriously dated until she met Jim. It wasn’t worth all the little games and allures to interest a man. Even before the wedding and the thought of the physical union, she had known that they were one. Yes, Jim was worth fighting for; a wedding reception wasn’t.

At last, the reception and dinner were over, and they were in the parking lot waiting for the attendant to bring around their car. The dinner had seemed endless, and Amy was grateful that even Sarah hadn’t been able to find a dance orchestra on such short notice.

We’ll do it up right when you get back, Sarah said as her silver Lincoln rolled to a quiet stop in front of her. We’ll have the biggest party this town has ever seen. Better still, come to Maryland, and it will be easier for all our friends to come.

Amy felt thrilled that she didn’t have to think about that for a while. It would take a long time for her to get over tonight and that sea of strangers, most of whose names she couldn’t remember.

I’ve had the gifts sent to the condo, Sarah went on, drawing her cape closer around her. I can hardly wait for you to open mine, Amy.

I thought the wedding was your gift, Amy said, not quite managing to keep a note of exasperation from her voice.

You silly girl, Sarah said, giving Amy’s cheek a playful slap. Do you think I’d really do that? Of course I’d give my son and his bride a wonderful gift.

Amy tried to tell herself that she’d imagined the little hesitation between my son and his bride, but it had been there. Again she told herself it didn’t matter. This was her wedding night, and absolutely nothing was going to spoil it.

The Grace Church parsonage was a three-bedroom, four-bath condo on the thirtieth floor of a high-rise with a spectacular view. By day, the park spread like the picture of an exotic garden, with flowers and shrubs (most of which Amy had never seen before) and a glimpse of a lake. At night, it was a magic world with that same view of the lake outlined by red, blue, and silver lights. The park was a gift to the city from a billionaire and was beautiful, but Amy found herself thinking about how many scholarships that money would have paid for. Tonight, though, her thoughts were only for the man beside her who had just closed the door and taken her in his arms.

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