Read Online The Imposter by Suzanne Woods Fisher - Free Book Online Page B

again.
    â€œIt’s such a vivid picture of the Christian life.”
    â€œThe same thought had just occurred to me,” David said, more to himself than to Birdy. “The wind is constantly pushing us backwards, making life more difficult.”
    Eyes on the bird, Birdy shook her head slowly. “I meant, the hawk. About not fighting the wind, but embracing it. Recognizing it as God’s presence, engulfing us.”
    David turned toward her, surprised at the parallel she had drawn. Surprised by the depth of her thoughts. When she realized he was staring at her, she became awkward and ill at ease, backing up toward the schoolhouse door until she bumped into it. “I have a few things to finish up before I go home.”
    â€œBirdy, hold on.”
    She spun around and looked at him. She had brown eyes. Warm like coffee. Funny, he’d never really noticed those eyes before. They were the same dark color as Freeman’s, David realized, having just seen him earlier today, yet Birdy’s eyes were soft and sweet. Frankly, despite her substantial height, everything about her was soft and sweet. It was hard to believe she was related to Freeman and Levi. “How did the day go?”
    Birdy thought for a moment, then grinned. “Let’s just say there’s room for improvement.”
    On the way back to the store, David realized how tense he had felt as he’d walked to the schoolhouse, how tightly he had been clenching his muscles. Fighting the wind. He deliberately tried to loosen his body by moving his neck and arms about.
    Instead of perceiving the force of the rushing wind as an enemy, he began to imagine it as the presence of the Holy Spirit enveloping him. And if that were true, then it was a reminder that God was with him, in this and around this. He had been fighting so hard, ready to give up, exhausted by the fight, because he assumed he was alone. He wasn’t. And he wouldn’t give up on this little church. Not now. Not yet.
    Something incredible happened. He suddenly became relaxed. His soul settled, as if it had found its still point. He found peace.
    A great spiritual lesson about submission, he realized, had been given to him today, through two unlikely sources: Birdy Glick and a bird.

    For the third day in a row, Jesse had missed breakfast. The household was well into its day as he opened cupboard doors, trying to remember which one held cereal boxes. His father came down the stairs two at a time and went straight toward the door. Catching sight of him, his father backtracked and stuck his head in the kitchen. “Morning, son,” he said pleasantly, “what’s left of it.”
    Jesse lifted the cereal box. “Care to join me?”
    â€œNo, I need to get to the store. A delivery is due in by ten. And you don’t have time for a leisurely breakfast, either. Hank Lapp is expecting you.”
    What? So his father had been serious about this buggy repairman notion?
    His father studied him in a way he knew all too well. “It’s time to put that head and body of yours to work.”
    â€œI see.” He wished he did. “Dad, I’ve been thinking it over. I don’t think I’m really suited for buggy work.”
    â€œSon, you seem to think you’re not suited for most employment.”
    That was a fair statement, one that Jesse agreed with. The problem was that boredom set in so quickly in a routine job, and his mind left for greener pastures. “It doesn’t seem fair to Hank Lapp to have an apprentice who doesn’t want to learn how to repair buggies.”
    His father waved away that concern as he opened the door. “Just remember . . . inspiration follows perspiration.” He stuck his head back around the kitchen doorframe. “Hank was expecting you at Windmill Farm two hours ago.”
    Hank Lapp. Jesse wasn’t quite sure about that wild-eyed fellow, who always seemed slightly off-kilter.
    For