8 Stones Op Fire
STONES OP
FIRE rejoiced too that it was love of the Lord that fanned its flame higher in each heart. Such pure love had transfigured each into a "momentary likeness of the King", for no sordid passion can produce a glorified face like that; it was a light from heaven.
At the close of that visit Ma-ma had to return to Oak Flat, but not before Lu-seng had told her that he had a new idea, a new dream. He was going to tear down his new house and build an earthen house, a large two-story place which could house a hundred students or guests, sleeping sardine fashion on the floors of the upper story; also on the site of his present house he wanted to build a much larger chapel, the reason being that he wanted to bring Rainy Season Bible School over to Olives ! Oak Flat had had R.S.B.S. for ten years now and the surrounding villages had had the blessings of the week-end ministry of the students.
It was time the west bank of the Salween received an opportunity for such ministry. So he wished to get ready.
At that time Ma-ma had little hope of such a large move.
Water and fuel were scarce at Olives, two very important items for such a large undertaking, and then a house for the missionary staff must be built—too much was involved. But Lu-seng had his vision and he proceeded to carry it out. And in one year's time, to her own astonishment, Ma-ma and her whole household were moved over to Village of the Olives, temporarily housed in Lu-seng's new home, whilst the skeleton of a bamboo shanty for her family, was going up next door
! Ma-ma had two white visitors also, those busy days, one ofwhom was a medical doctor.
On the day that Girls' Bible School began, in February, 1949, these two much-appreciated guests left. The girls now had to take turns in preaching on Sunday noon, and it was from a message Mary gave, that Ma-ma first awakened as to the subject matter of this chapter.
"When doctor 1 was here and spoke to us," said Mary, "She helped me very much in that message on trial.
I had been feeling that no one had such heavy trials as I had. But doctor said that everybody has trials and that they are purposely allowed
1 Dr. Myrtle Jane Hinkhouse.
THE CLIMAX OP THE LAPIDARY
S SKILL
of God that we may develop and grow in our spiritual lives.
That was a great help to me, changing my point of view. Even as a limb of the body needs exercise or it will become unusable, so we Christians must have circumstances that cast us upon God or we will never experience the strength of His undergirding arms or the faithfulness of His love towards us. That message has been a blessing to me."
Ma-ma sat up and thought. "I had been feeling that no one had such heavy trials as I had." What trials had Mary? She was hard-working for she was an industrious little body. But many other girls in Olives had to labour much harder. Lu-seng her husband was considered well off. She had to live with her in-laws but they were Christians; Rhoda was having a hard time with her mother-in-law, but she was a heathen, a very talkative and gossipy one.
Trials? What were Mary's trials?
From then on Ma-ma began to take note.
After many months of quiet alertness and putting pieces of information together, the whole matter stood revealed. This is what had happened.
For some time a silent rivalry had been growing up between the two women who loved Lu-seng supremely, his wife and his mother. Each one coveted to be dearest of all to Lu-seng, so that in family differences it must have been a problem to know which side to take, his wife's or his mother's. Little Paul was another source of rivalry (one hesitates to say jealousy, for it never reached a point of bitterness and visitors would never sense anything at all) but still it was always there, unspoken. Lu-sengma was what could be described as a "driver". She herself was so full of energy, worked quickly and ably. Mary, though industrious, was much slower to think or even to move. For a hint to be thrown to her husband that she had not been working hard for the family food was simply unbearable to Mary. Faithfulness was a very part of her. On the other hand, Lu-seng-ma did not mean to drive: she had a habit of talking to herself and did not realize that often she forced Mary into action when she did not know her spoken thoughts had been overheard.
Mary, having lost a great deal of weight, needed no prodding to work; in fact, should have been encouraged to take things
STONES OP
FIRE easier occasionally. But fearful lest her mother-in-law go up and down the village bemoaning that the work was not being done, Mary often forced herself into the fields when she should have rested at home. This had gone on for some six years when one day it reached a climax.
A buckwheat field waited to be harvested and Mary was feeling ill. The harvesters go into the fields with the first streaks of daylight to cut and bind by hand, with only a few minutes* rest at noon for lunch, until dark.
It is very fatiguing. Mary felt that a day's delay in getting that buckwheat in would make no difference, but Lu-seng-ma, with her impatient nature, felt otherwise. She tried to hire help, but everyone was busy, she could get no one. Following her old habit unconsciously, that evening as Lu-seng-ma went up and down the trails asking for labourers she moaned out loud, "Everybody sick, just when the harvest must be brought in. It may rain and the crop be ruined.
Whatever will I do. Our buckwheat for the year ! And nobody will help," and so on. This was reported to Mary, as in such a small village everything is told immediately. The result was that before daylight next morning Mary, forcing herself, got up, cooked an early breakfast, and by the first streaks of light was out in the buckwheat field working hard. By night-time she was almost ready to collapse, probably vomited, when the matter came to Lu-seng's attention.
"I didn't say she had to go!" The old mother, alarmed lest she lose favour with her dear son, was on the defensive immediately. "I know she was not well and people have to rest occasionally. She would go." Then in a low tone to Lu-seng, "You know she is obstinate, What could I do? I couldn't tie her up, could I?"
And so the argument began.
It was not the first time this had happened, and Lu-seng was getting tired of it. When they were alone at night Lu-seng probably felt he should "exhort" Mary.
"You're too sensitive.
Don't go around with a chip on your shoulder ! You know the old lady does not mean what she says.
And she is right, you are obstinate. When she said she did not mean that you were to be the one to go harvest the buckwheat, why didn't you believe her?" and so on. Mary's only answer was a burst of tears. To Lu-seng this was disgusting weakness,
THE
CLIMAX OF THE LAPIDARY
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and thoroughly impatient with female unreasonableness he flounced over on his bed and went to sleep.
But there was no sleep for his little wife. Every bone in her body ached from over-fatigue. But more than all her heart ached, that after trying so hard to please everybody, she had only succeeded in getting herself scolded.
That Lu-seng-ma had whispered that word about obstinacy she knew right well, and she knew too the unconscious reason for it had been, not to lose favour with Lu-seng. And it was not the first time this had happened : to defend herself, the mother-in-law had blamed her, the wife, for obstinacy. Weary, discouraged and alone, the only one awake through the dark hours, the Tempter had a rare opportunity and he used it. "Put Lu-seng's love for you to the proof," he whispered. "You know what a heathen wife would do under such circumstances—run away, and stay away until he comes to fetch you. That would wake him up
! And it would scare Lu-seng-ma too, for according to heathen custom, if he did not come for you within three days, your father could take him to law as not wanting you! Does he want you? His words to-night did not look as if he loved you—not like he used to!"
The tempter of souls knows how to stir us up, and the right moment to suggest his lies.
This time he succeeded. When Lu-seng got up the next morning, Mary's bed was empty. He did not think much of it, as she frequently rose before he did, but when breakfast time came and none of the family had seen her, then he became somewhat alarmed. His mother, consciencestricken, was the first to guess what had taken place.
"Do you think she has run away?" she whispered.
Lu-seng stood transfixed. His Mary, so often pointed to by the whole village as the most faithful of wives, run away?
Publish to everybody that his, Lu-seng's family, had had a quarrel? He, the most impeccable evangelist in the valley, to have such a disgrace? The fire shot to his face and his eyes blazed so that even his mother was scared. "Maybe not," she added hurriedly. "Maybe she had just gone down to her father's.
I'll go right after breakfast myself.
I'll tell her I was wrong and ask her to come back," she said eagerly, hoping to escape the punishment of her son's censure.
IOO
STONES OF
FIRE But Mary had not been seen or heard of at her father's.
Alarmed, and knowing well that publicity was what Lu-seng feared more than anything else, his mother made a pretext to visit Martha, but there was no Mary there. And so on. Secretly, as long as it could be kept secret, the family hunted for Mary, but there was no trace of her. Then they had to face the inevitable; she had taken the heathen course and run away.
By now Lu-seng had himself in hand, and with his quick keen judgment he made a decision. He called the family together that evening and held a council. The first thing to be kept in mind was that this matter should not be noised abroad.
He was the leading pastor of the whole church and hundreds were looking to him and his family as an example. Mary had very definitely chosen a heathen way to defend herself, but all must work together to cover up this fact if cover was at all possible. The next morning Lu-seng-pa, Lu-seng and Timothy, all making an excuse would set off in different directions to try to trace her whereabouts. One to go north, one south, and one west.
It was hardly likely that she had attempted to cross the river. She was too spent physically to try to go far away. They were not to ask if she had run here or there; they were to inquire about grain at likely places, homes of friends, and at the same time keep their eyes open. And by the second day they had traced her—she had gone to Sandalwood Flat, to the home of Samuel Ju's mother. That old lady and Lu-seng-ma were fast friends and she had often been entertained by Mary when on a marketing trip to Olives. Mary evidently had not confided in them, merely saying that she needed a rest and had come to pay them a visit for a few days. But Samuel, a graduate of the Tali hospital, the only trained medical in the countryside, made his knowledge of how to treat sick bodies an excuse and discovered a bit of her secret. He had always been an admirer of Mary and under his kind, sympathetic questioning Mary probably relaxed and told him. Such a situation was not without danger, for Samuel was a handsome young bachelor, much desired by many maidens, but he was a Christian too and his unconcealed admiration was pleasant. So, when on the second day Timothy appeared at the Ju house, Mary knew that he was
THE CLIMAX OP THE LAPIDARY
S SKILL
searching for her, and felt gratified that Lu-seng had not wasted any time trying to find her.
She sedately refused Timothy's invitation to go home with him, saying that she wished to rest another day, and Timothy knew what that meant. There must be an invitation from Lu-seng before she would come back.
But there was no scene. In fact the whole affair was a marvel of discreet and clever management, for not a breath of it ever got beyond the borders of Village of the Olives. In all such villages there are many gossips who would love such a dainty morsel that the leading pastor's wife had run away from him and he had had to send for her!
That such never got abroad was miraculous ; it was someone's clever and capable handling of a difficult situation. But it was managed. Two years later Ma-ma had not the faintest idea of it, not until Mary's own mention of trials set her to questioning; then Lu-seng himself finally opened up and told her.
When the little wife was brought home, according to Lisu custom, a fine chicken supper would be served; or even a pig killed to honour the occasion. Her plan seemed to have worked, the Tempter's suggestion seemed to have been just the thing.
Ah, no. The Tempter never leads us into green pastures or beside still waters. Mary was to pay bitterly and for many a long day, for obeying the instincts of the flesh and the voice of God's enemy. Just a few months later came her admission in Girls'
Bible School (1947) as to the blessing of Heb.
11: 1, when she added, "And decision is important." Just what she meant by that none of her audience guessed, but already the bitterness of a wrong decision was beginning to eat into her life.
The first reaction in the home life of her family had been a respectful kindness shown toward her. Lu-seng had doubtless spoken to his mother, and so she went out of her way to make
Mary welcome, and guarded her own tongue as she had not for a long time. But among Lu-seng's companions there was a different attitude. One of his chief friends at this time was Andrew, lately elected deacon at Olives. Andrew was brother to Lydia and married to Rhoda. They too lived with his mother and he found that his wife and parent did not get along well together. Andrew was a fine man, but naturally he sympathized
STONES OP
FIRB with Lu-seng in the wife and mother-in-law matter; and Lydia, always an admirer of Lu-seng, was filled with resentment that Mary had almost brought the stain of public disgrace upon the young church leader. From that time on, the friendship between Mary and Lydia ceased. They spoke when necessary, but never were seen together—and formerly they were chums. On the other hand, warm-tempered Rhoda stoutly defended Mary, and carried to her all the tales of what went on when Lu-seng visited Andrew. Whether feelings were put into definite words or not, Lu-seng began to feel that Mary had injured him, and that Andrew and Lydia pitied him because of it, and his conduct began to change toward his little wife. She felt that something was gone. More and more now did Lu-seng go down the hill to Andrew's house. Sympathy and welcome awaited him there, but always, like a shadow, Rhoda flitted back and forth, and sooner or later Mary got to hear of all that had been said, or even just looked. Nothing evil took place, but Lu-seng began to make cynical, hard little remarks about wives and marriage, and he and Mary were never seen talking together. At evening chapel service the tenors and altos sat on the side, facing one another. Lu-seng was a tenor and Lydia was an alto, and so it happened that, without being conscious of it, when a fine point was made in a message, well, Lydia was right opposite and she was keen to appreciate such things, and so a smile of "That was well put.
. Yes, wasn't it?" would flash from the one to the other.
It never occurred to the young husband that Mary saw the smile and that it was like a knife in her heart. That quick fellowship with her husband in the things of God had always been one of her greatest treasures. Now her former chum had it. So many things in life we do thoughtlessly! Lu-seng and Lydia never dreamed that they had taken from Mary that which was dearer than life: probably they never gave thought to such a small matter as a smile in public. Lu-seng always had such smiles for his friends, but it just happened that Lydia sat opposite him in chapel where he could not but see her.
Ma-ma did not recognize at first what was happening. Having been on the alert to watch for Mary's troubles, she did notice that sometimes during chapel service a grim look, almost pain,