Was that it? Was Lydia telling him not to give up in his search for answers? His brow furrowed. But he
had
been praying. Since last January. That was a full year now. Then he shook his head. Maybe so, but in the last two months, he had fainted. He had all but quit searching.
He read again the description of the judge and the woman who came to him. There was no question but what the judge was a hard man. He wasn’t motivated by any feelings about God, and he had no concerns for his fellowman. Will shook his head. He had met men like that. Some worked for his father right now. They weren’t pleasant people to be around.
And then he saw something about the widow he had missed. There was no mention (not a very specific one, anyway) of what her problem was, what she wanted help on, but when the judge wouldn’t listen to her—not surprising, considering his nature—she didn’t give up. He straightened, suddenly understanding. She didn’t
faint
. That was the lesson of the parable.
He read it again, slowly now. And then the words of the judge hit him. “He said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man; yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her,
lest by her continual coming she weary me
.”
He was suddenly amused. So this hard-hearted, merciless judge had finally given in, not because it was the right thing to do, or not because he had the slightest feelings of pity for the woman, but because the woman was driving him to distraction. Like having a buzzing fly in a quiet room, or a particularly persistent gopher in the garden. One finally acted, not out of conscience or duty, but simply to rid oneself of the annoyance.
He sat back, his mouth pulling down. “And that’s what I’m supposed to learn about prayer?” he asked of the lamp. “Do I have to pester God to the point that he finally gives in?”
Instantly he knew that wasn’t right. Once again he read it slowly, carefully, forcing himself to think about the words. Lydia had said the parable was a little troublesome. A little? Was God like this unjust judge? And then a thought came into his mind. Years ago, when Will had been particularly troubled by a story in the Old Testament and kept challenging his mother about it, she had said simply this: “Will, if you read something in the scriptures that you don’t understand, just remember, the problem is in you, not in the scriptures.”
Will leaned back in his chair, staring out at nothing, letting his mind begin to push at the problem. It was like a knot in the rigging of a ship. Swollen with salt water, or stiff with ice, at first it looked as if it might be impossible to undo. But you just kept working at it, pushing here, prying there, pulling hard, then starting all over again. And eventually it gave way.
God was a caring being. He called himself Father. That surely said something, didn’t it? He wasn’t like the hard-hearted judge. So why would he demand that his children ask for something over and over before he responded? It wasn’t just to make them grovel. That wasn’t the kind of God he believed in. So why say a man must pray and not faint?
In his own way, Will was very methodical and precise. He liked to sort things out and have them neatly in their place. Like working a ship. If you left things lying around, the next thing you knew, someone would get hurt, or you were left empty-handed in a crisis. So he took up the pen and wrote down what had just occurred to him.
If a hard-hearted, unjust man will respond to someone who is persistent, won’t a loving Father do so all the more?
Pleased that he had come to that on his own, he laid the pen aside and went back to the book. He read the parable yet again. “But wait a minute,” he said aloud, remembering something he had read elsewhere. He couldn’t remember exactly where it was, but he remembered the concept clearly.
God knows what we need before we even ask him
. The Savior had said that too. You didn’t kneel down and ask the Father for something and have him say, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”
He picked up the pen and wrote quickly again.
God already knows what we need. Before we even ask! So why do we even have to ask at all?
He set the pen aside, pushed the paper away, even shoved the Bible back. Why had Lydia sent him to this odd little story? Why did she feel this would help him? And more important, Will
had
been asking. Why hadn’t God answered him? Maybe in the past few weeks he hadn’t been completely diligent, but before that he had. He had truly wanted an answer. Didn’t God hear him? Didn’t he care? He immediately shook that off.
No
, he thought, remembering his mother’s counsel.
God isn’t the problem here
.
“Ah!” he said softly as his head came up. Now he grabbed the pen and his hands literally flew across the paper.
If the problem is not with God, then the problem must be with me.
Now he was up, leaning over to stare at what he had written.
So what’s wrong with me?
he asked himself.
Why can’t I get an answer?
Had he stopped searching as a way of punishing Jenny? Was the Lord displeased with—
He stood bolt upright, staring across the room at nothing. That was it! He shook his head, a little dazed by the stunning clarity of the thought that had just come to him.
That was it!
He let out his breath in a long sigh of amazement.
Of course!
He sat back down at the table, and this time he wrote very slowly, wanting to remember exactly how it had come to him.
We do not pray to God over and over to change him. We pray over and over to change us!
He read it, and reread it.
His mind racing now, he took the blotter and carefully dabbed at what he had written. Now he understood. And it was not just the parable that he understood. He knew now what he had to do. With determination, he pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees.
Dawn was just coming when he found it. His back was stiff, his eyes blurred and burning from the dim lamplight. He had read from the Book of Mormon most of the night, but then, ten minutes ago, he had gone back to the Bible again. And then he stumbled across it, quite by accident.
It was in the seventh chapter of the Gospel of John. It was so simple, he read right over it at first. “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.”
Through the weariness something suddenly clicked. He read it again. There it was. In one marvelous, clarifying instant of light, Will Steed had his answer.
If ye do his will, ye shall know!
He straightened, very slowly, feeling the weariness flee like a storm cloud before the sun.
Do! And then know!
He had been doing just the opposite. He wanted to know, and then he would do.
He read it again. And a fourth time. Then with a cry of joy, he shut the Bible and dropped to his knees again.
Chapter Notes
The store built by Joseph and Emma was on the corner of Water and Granger Streets, just one block west of Joseph’s original home. It was finished sometime in December 1841, and opened for business on 5 January 1842. The descriptions of the interior come from a letter Joseph wrote to a friend (see
HC
4:491–92). Now popularly known as the “Red Brick Store” because of its exterior, the upper floor had offices for Joseph and the First Presidency and became the “headquarters” of the Church for a time (see
CHFT
, p. 243). Today the store and the Homestead, Joseph and Emma’s first Nauvoo home, are part of the properties owned by the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
Joseph Fielding returned to Nauvoo during the latter part of November 1841 after a four-year mission to England, including presiding there as mission president. On 28 November 1841 the Prophet met in council with the Twelve at Brigham Young’s home to discuss various matters and to hear Fielding’s report on the English mission. It was during this meeting that Joseph Smith made the following statement: “I told the brethren that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.” (
HC
4:461.)
Chapter 14
Joshua arrived back at the Black River camp on Monday, January seventeenth, just before sundown. As he came into camp, it was sixteen degrees below zero, with a stiff wind blowing out of the north. It had been eleven days since he left Nauvoo and about six weeks since his departure from camp.
The men had just finished their supper as he arrived, and they poured out of the dining hall to greet him. It was not that they were so happy to see the owner and boss of the company, but rather that many of the crew had been hired from the Nauvoo area and knew that Joshua would bring letters and small packages from their families. So in spite of the cold, they swarmed around him and the big bag he’d brought with him.
Nathan gladly received the package and letter from Lydia, but unlike the others, he didn’t immediately move off to be by himself while he opened it and read it. Instead, he stepped back, watching Will. Will pretended only casual interest, but every time Joshua reached down into the bag for the next letter or package, Will’s eyes tracked his every movement. When the bag was emptied, Will had a letter from his mother and one from Olivia, on which Savannah had proudly written her name and little Charles had been encouraged to scribble, but nothing else. Without a word, he turned away.
Nathan stepped forward again. “Nothing from Jenny Pottsworth?” Nathan asked, just loud enough for Will to hear. Will turned back, fully aware what Nathan was doing, but still wanting to hear the answer for himself.
Joshua glanced at his son and then shook his head slowly. “Jenny and Andrew Stokes are officially engaged. They plan to marry next month and move across the river to Zarahemla.”
Will faltered for an instant, and then his head bobbed once. “Good. That’s what I told her to do.” And with that, he turned and walked away.
As Joshua turned and went into the dining hall, he finally looked at his brother, who had followed him inside. “I’m sorry about Jenny, believe it or not. I’m not sorry that he’s lost her, but I hate to see him hurting like this.”
“I know.”
“But it’s for the best.”
“Probably,” Nathan agreed. “But that doesn’t make swallowing it any easier.” He gave Joshua a warning look. “And telling him it’s for the best isn’t what he needs right now.”
“I know.” And then Joshua surprised Nathan. “I’ll be easy on him,” he said slowly.
“Good.”
Joshua turned back to face Nathan. “Well, I’m back. What are your plans?”
“Pack up and leave tomorrow.”
“Don’t blame you. Lydia is most anxious to see you.”
“And I her.”
“Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying here with Will. I know he needed someone. I’d have stayed if I’d thought I could help, but . . .” He sighed. “You were better for him. Anyway, thanks.” His voice was suddenly tight as he tried not to show emotion. “And thanks for that day in the river. When I think how close we came to losing him, I . . .”
Nathan waved it away. “You know that I love Will like my own son, Joshua. You’ve got a fine boy there.”
“I know. And when things settle in a little, I’ll tell him so too.” A little embarrassed that he should be that open, he cleared his throat. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “Where’s that food you’re talking about?”
They lingered over the supper table, Joshua talking about the news of home, Nathan reporting on how things were in the camp. Joshua started to say something about John C. Bennett’s visit, then changed his mind. He knew how Nathan would react to it, and until Joshua could verify or disprove it, there was no sense in stirring up the pot. After about half an hour, Will came back in and joined them.
“Guess what!” Nathan said.
“What?”
“Your father says that both Rebecca and Jennifer Jo are in the family way, due only a few weeks apart in the summer.”
“Really?” That was the first genuine smile his father had seen on Will since his return.
“Isn’t that great?” Joshua exclaimed. “Matthew is so excited. He just sits there and grins and grins at her.”
“He’ll make a wonderful father,” Nathan volunteered. “All of the nieces and nephews adore him. In fact, from the time young Joshua was little, it’s not ever been, ‘Let’s go to Grandma’s house, or Grandpa’s house.’ It’s been, ‘Let’s go to Uncle Matthew’s
house.’”
“And I’ll bet Derek is tickled too, isn’t he?” Will asked.
“Greatly,” Joshua replied. “He’s convinced it’s another boy. Rebecca thinks it will be a girl. Derek doesn’t really care, but another boy would be a great companion for Christopher.”
They talked on, enjoying one another’s company and the chance to sit back and visit before diving into the work again. But after another half an hour, Joshua stretched mightily, then yawned. “Sorry, but I’ve been on the road for eleven days. If you don’t mind, I’ll turn in.”
“I’ll see you before I leave,” Nathan said.
“All right.” He waved and left the small dining hall. Will watched him go and waited until the door closed behind him; then he looked at Nathan. “Did you say anything to Pa?”
Nathan looked up. “About what?”
“About my finding an answer.”
Nathan shook his head. “I figured that’s your place to do, Will.”
He looked relieved. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I’ve decided not to say anything to Pa right now.”
One eyebrow came up, but Nathan said nothing. He just waited.
“Since coming up here,” Will began, speaking hesitantly, searching for the right words, “I don’t know. Something special has happened between Pa and me. This thing with Jenny was driving a real wedge between us. But things have been much better now.”
“Yes, they have,” Nathan agreed.
“I . . . If I tell him that I’ve decided to become a Mormon, you know what will happen.”
“Yeah,” Nathan said glumly. There wasn’t much question about that.