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Because nothing less would soften his father s heart.
What s this? Clay picked up the envelope on the kitchen
table. His name had been printed in crude lettering on the front
with a green crayon by Emily, he assumed. With lots of
coaching from Cate.
The two children beamed up at him. Happy Father s Day!
Clay s hand froze, and his heart did a funny somersault. He d
Irene Hannon 147
forgotten it was Father s Day. The day had never meant anything
to him, as a child or as an adult. And since he d never planned
on having a family, he d never expected to get a Father s Day
card. Receiving one gave him an odd feeling in his chest. Not
bad, but& different. Warm. And full. And good.
Stunned, Clay sat at the table. The children pressed close on
each side, watching in excitement as he lifted the flap and
withdrew the card that proclaimed him as a special uncle.
Cate helped us pick it out, Josh told him. But we each
signed our name.
With hands that weren t quite steady, he opened it, read the
sentiment, and looked at the sprawling printed names at the
bottom and on the inside of the cover. Emily had added a flower
and a smiling face above her name, and Josh s drawing resem-
bled a fishing pole and a swing. Sort of.
Do you like it? Emily s eyes were anxious.
It s the best present I ever got. Clay choked out the words.
But we have presents, too! Josh declared. He scampered into
their bedroom, returning a minute later with two small boxes.
This one s from me. He thrust a gaily wrapped package at Clay.
His fingers fumbling, Clay pulled off the paper and withdrew
a small wooden picture frame. Stones and acorn shells and twigs
had been glued around the edges, and inside the frame was a
photo of Josh and Emily holding fishing poles, their faces split
by huge grins.
I glued the stuff on the frame, Josh said. Cate helped me
collect it. And she took the picture. Do you like it?
There was an apprehensive note in his question, and Clay gave
him a tender smile. It s wonderful, Josh. I m going to take this
to work and put it on my desk. That way I can see you and Emily
even when I m not with you.
148 Apprentice Father
Josh beamed as Emily held out her package. Inside Clay dis-
covered a shallow box, open on the top, constructed of popsicle
sticks. It was painted bright blue and decorated with buttons.
He had no idea what it was.
Cate says you can use it for stuff on your desk at work,
Emily offered.
Grateful for the clue, he smiled. It s perfect.
And it was. Both gifts were. Maybe the edges didn t quite line
up on the desktop caddy. Maybe the decorations on the frame
weren t quite straight. But the love represented by the gifts was
perfect. And it meant the world to him.
He told that to Cate later, pulling her aside after the worship
service while Pop kept the children occupied. She shook her
head, however, at his thanks.
I wish I could take the credit. But Emily came up with the
idea. She smiled at him, her eyes soft green pools in the dappled
shade of morning as she rested her hand on his arm. They love
you a lot, Clay. And that kind of love can t be bought or bribed
or bartered. Especially from children. You ve done a great job.
The children s gifts had filled him so full of happiness Clay
hadn t thought there was room for any more. But Cate s words
of praise were the icing on the cake. A torrent of emotion over-
whelmed him, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
She turned away before he could speak, taking the warmth of
her hand from his arm.
But in its place, she left a warm glow in his heart.
Chapter Twelve
Clay lifted his elbow and wiped his forehead on the sleeve of
his T-shirt, then took a long, cold swig of lemonade. In typical
Missouri fashion, the late June Saturday afternoon was hot,
muggy and uncomfortable. But the heat hadn t deterred the
dozens of congregants who d shown up at church to lend a hand
with the pavilion-raising project.
From his vantage point across the property, Clay examined
the results of their labors. The structure of the cedar pavilion was
in place, and the willing, if unskilled, crew was diligently
working on the floor and railings. Children played in a safe area
off to one side, and an abundance of home-cooked food was
being set out for a late lunch in the shade of a towering oak tree.
Reverend Richards, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, broke
apart from the cluster of people wielding hammers and saws and
headed toward Clay. I m glad to see you re taking a much-
needed break.
To be honest, I feel a little guilty about it. Everyone else is
still hard at it.
They re a good group. The minister surveyed the scene. I
150 Apprentice Father
was very blessed to receive a call from this church when I was
ordained four years ago.
You mean you weren t always a preacher? Clay had
assumed the man had spent all of his adult life in ministry.
Far from it. I worked for quite a few years in the corporate
world first.
Intrigued, Clay cocked his head. What did you do?
I was vice president of planning for a pretty sizable company.
When he named a firm on the Fortune 500 list, Clay s
eyebrows rose. Bob Richards had been a successful business ex-
ecutive, with all the perks and prestige that came with a coveted
position in a blue-chip firm. And he d walked away to be a small-
town pastor.
It didn t compute.
Wasn t that a lot to give up?
The minister smiled. I found something better.
His response surprised Clay. What was it about being a
minister that had been compelling enough to induce him to make
such a radical change in lifestyle?
Had you always been drawn to the ministry? Clay ventured.
The pastor gave a rueful laugh. No. In my younger days I
barely had a speaking acquaintance with the Lord. My sights
were set on a business career, and the Lord didn t fit in with my
plans. I wanted to be rich and powerful, and in the eyes of the
world I achieved that.
So what happened?
No bolt from the blue, if that s what you mean. I just began
to realize that despite the money and the power and the perks, I
wasn t happy. Nor did I feel grounded or secure. I knew some
essential component was missing from my life, but I couldn t
quite figure out what it was. I only knew I felt restless.
Irene Hannon 151
The minister stuck his hands in his pockets, his expression re-
flective. Over time, though, I began to hear a voice. His voice.
Calling me home. Only I didn t want to go. It was way too scary.
And the sacrifices required were too great. He was asking me to
give up everything I d worked for, change the plan for my life.
And I didn t want to do that. I liked being in charge of my
destiny, and I was afraid to relinquish that control. I fought Him
every step of the way.
What happened to change your mind?
Reverend Richards refocused on Clay. The voice kept
growing stronger, always gentle, but always there. Until I
conceded that I needed to at least consider what He was asking.
And once I opened that door, once I allowed for the possibility
that maybe God had a different idea about what He wanted for
my life than I did, the rest fell into place. I left my job, went to
divinity school, and now I m content serving the Lord in this
small church in Washington, Missouri.
The man s story resonated with Clay, touching on many of the
emotions he d been experiencing in the past few months. The
restlessness. The feeling that some essential element was
missing. The fear of letting go, of relinquishing control. Even the
need to connect with the Lord and understand His will.
Except Reverend Richards had found his answers. Clay s
search continued.
I envy you your sense of contentment, Clay admitted.
It didn t happen overnight. But in the end, my life played out
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