Eden Hill by Bill Higgs

Author:Bill Higgs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Historical, FICTION / General
ISBN: 9781496414595
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2016-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Reverend Caudill was having a remarkable Sunday. If the semiannual business meeting at the First Evangelical Baptist Church was going to measure up to the morning sermon, it would have to be something spectacular. He was in rare exegetical form, and with all due humility, his sermon on the Good Samaritan was powerful and mesmerizing. The truth was, his corns hurt and he couldn’t find a comfortable stance, so he settled for leaning on the pulpit and shuffling his feet back and forth. Every now and then an important point received particular emphasis when his left big toe barked up against the leather of his wing tips.

He did have some concerns about the day. Ever since the church voted to sell the old feed store lot during the fall business session, people had been talking about what might happen at the spring meeting. Usually the time would be spent with Anna Belle reading the minutes, Anna Belle taking some more minutes if anyone else had anything to say, someone—usually Anna Belle—making a motion to approve the minutes, and Reverend Caudill looking at his watch to see how many minutes were left until he could move to adjourn. Welby would usually second his motion, and then be called upon to close in prayer. This served double duty as the blessing for the potluck dinner, which always followed the business session. With luck, the food would still be warm when everyone filed down the stairs into the basement.

The first indication of trouble was Mrs. Madeline Crutcher, who was sitting in the center of the front row rather than at the side. The second was the Life magazine sticking out of the enormous shopping bag that served as her purse. The third bad omen was the way she fidgeted and glared at him during his sermon, like an anxious cat about to pounce. He’d seldom preached on the Good Samaritan, since he’d always felt Jesus was a bit hard on the clergyman in the story. Still, his three points were all nicely in a row, and the poem at the end drove the point home.

So he avoided Mrs. Crutcher’s pointed gaze, knowing his song leader would stare her right back into the hardwood pew when he led the closing hymn. Grover had once said that old Toler could crack the statue in the courthouse yard with a single look.

He ended his sermon and sat down, grateful to be off his sore feet. Toler led the congregation in “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee” in his usual lethargic style, but without noticeable distraction from the elderly woman, who had by now retrieved the illustrated weekly from within the depths of the bag and had opened it to a page filled with black-and-white photos. Whatever her agenda, she was loaded for bear. His stomach began to hurt and add to the pain of his throbbing toe, and his appetite for fried chicken and beaten biscuits started to evaporate. As the last amen sounded and Toler stopped waving his arms, Reverend Caudill delivered the benediction and the business meeting began.

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