Jemimah quailed at the prospect of morning tea being pushed back even later. Apart from her own time pressures, standing around waiting for Angie to finish up was hardly the kind of birthday treat she’d had in mind for Leanne.

“How about Leanne and I make a start at the café while you try those on, and you can meet us there when you’re finished?” she suggested tentatively. To her relief, Angie thought that was a great idea, saying she’d probably had more than enough cake that morning anyway.

The sun was just breaking through the overcast sky as Jemimah and Leanne emerged onto the footpath, and Jemimah wished she could brighten herself up, too. But there were still so many clouds hanging over her ...

“I’m sorry, Leanne,” she began as they made their way toward the café. “But I’ve yet another detour to make first. If you don’t mind, I just need to stop in at the pharmacy on the way.”

“Sure, no problem,” Leanne replied, but then glanced down at Jemimah. “Are you okay? I mean, with the doctors ...and ...” she broke off in embarrassment, then went on again quickly. “I’m sorry -- I shouldn’t be asking. It’s none of my business or anything. It’s just you looked upset and I was worried.”

“Oh, no -- it’s sweet of you to care,” Jemimah said, feeling even more guilty that she’d let her gloom cast its shadow over Leanne as well. She lowered her voice as they entered the pharmacy, “I’m sorry I didn’t explain. It’s nothing really, just when I was lost in the bush a few weeks ago, I drank from the creek, and last night we found out that was where the cattle were drinking and---“

“Yuck!” Leanne shuddered.

“Exactly. No mystery why I’ve been feeling so sick,” Jemimah grimaced. “The doctor’s just taken a blood test, but he wants me to start on this prescription right away. Hopefully I’ll be feeling as good as new within a few days.”

They left the script to be filled while they went on to the café, and Jemimah prayed for grace to be able to forget about her problems for the moment so she could be a blessing to Leanne.

“It’s down this way,” she said as they approached an opening between the shop fronts.

“Really?”

Jemimah smiled at the surprise in Leanne’s voice. The dingy internal arcade with the darkened windows of long abandoned shops lining one side, was not promising. She’d felt the same way when Angie had brought her the first time -- and she hoped that Leanne would like it just as much.

At the end of the arcade they waited while a well-dressed couple passed them on their way out, then Jemimah led the way through a door to the right.

“Wow!”

The look on Leanne’s face made every bit of the long morning worthwhile, and Jemimah watched with pleasure as the girl took in the exotically decorated room. The small café was busy without being crowded, warm and redolent of baking and spice.

The hand-painted walls resembled intricate tiled mosaics, and brightly coloured fabric billowed from the ceiling and draped between either side of the small tables along the wall to create intimate, booth-like niches.

After a perusal of the dessert cabinet, Jemimah caught the eye of one of the proprietors and asked if there might be a table free outside.

“For such beautiful young ladies,” he answered, spreading his arms dramatically, “anywhere you please!”

Jemimah couldn’t help smiling as he led the way out into an enclosed courtyard. The man looked and sounded no more Moroccan than she or Leanne, but wore his striped kaftan-style tunic top, linen pants and beaded leather slippers with such flair that it was impossible not to be swept along with the mood.

The courtyard itself was formed by the two-story brick walls of the neighbouring buildings, but terracotta-toned render on the walls and an abundance of potted plants masterfully continued the exotic illusion. A half-circular wall fountain was built against the back wall, and the splashing of water onto the brilliant coloured tiles mingled with the tinkle of bell-chimes to transport the small courtyard far from the main street of Narrabri.

There was only one other couple already seated in the leafy courtyard, and their ‘Moroccan’ host presented a table in the opposite corner, seated the girls with a flourish and, after taking their order, left them with the promise of good things to come.

A few minutes later he reappeared like a genie from a lamp with their order, setting a thick mug of hot chocolate in front of each of them and a plate with pastries, fried pretzel-shaped doughnuts and rich fudge cake onto the centre of the table.

Leanne breathed in the aroma rising from her mug and then took a cautious sip.

“Oh, wow! You were right -- this is fantastic!” Leanne said, pausing to take another, longer drink. “What is in it?”

“Cardamom, orange peel and cinnamon for a start,” Jemimah dipped her spoon into the star of whipped cream floating on top of her chocolate, “that’s what they have on the menu, but I think there might be a few other ingredients they’re keeping close to their chest.” She took a spoonful of the hot chocolate, let it cool briefly and then tasted it thoughtfully. “I’m wondering if it might be a little rose water? It’s just the tiniest hint of Turkish delight.”

“Mmm, you could be right. Whatever it is, it’s good. I had absolutely no idea this place existed -- you’re lucky to have found it.”

“It was a friend of Angie’s, well, a friend of a friend of Angie’s from Sydney who knew the couple who were starting it up. Apparently they’d done a lot of travelling overseas and having fallen in love with Morocco, thought they’d try bringing a bit of it back home.”

Jemimah looked up from the plate of pastries she’d neatly divided into three pieces each. “I’ve only been here once before with Angie -- and I’ve been looking forward to coming back ever since. It’s nice when something turns out even better than you remembered, isn’t it?”

Leanne agreed and selected one of the cakes to try. “You’re so lucky having someone your age to do things like this with.”

“You don’t?”

“Not really. I mean, I have a nice group of friends at school but I don’t really see them much outside of school or anything. And none of them are Christians so it’s ...” She shrugged. “It’s different. I’m really grateful for them, but I guess I’m always a little bit on the outside. Some of the things they talk about or do is not always the stuff I’m comfortable with. And I can’t really share my heart about some of the things that are big for me. I speak about the gospel when I can, and I’ve asked a few of them along to church and the social nights, but so far, none of them have been interested.”

“You don’t have any Christian friends your age?”

“No. Like, there’s a couple of kids at school who go to church with their parents, but you get the impression it’s not something they’re enthused about -- just that their family’s being ‘Christian’ means they suffer because they don’t get to do all the stuff everyone else does. I think of them as the ‘Early Christian Martyrs’,” Leanne said with a wry grin.

“And there aren’t really many people your age at church, either.”

“No, just my brother -- and I guess Jamie Hart. Not that he’s ever said anything about being a Christian,” she said, slicing off another forkful of the fudge cake.

“Did you know he’s invited Jarrah and Mitch along to church tomorrow morning?”

“Did he?” Leanne’s eyes widened, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. “Are they coming?”

“Last I heard they were,” Jemimah said. A heavy sigh escaped her and she covered her mouth guiltily. “I am glad they’re coming. It’s just I was already nervous enough about giving my testimony without expecting anyone from outside the church there as well.”

“You’ve done it all before, though, haven’t you? You were baptised and already a member at your old church?”

Jemimah nodded. “Yes, when I was about your age, but I was pretty reluctant then, too. It wasn’t that I wasn’t sure I was saved, or that I didn’t want to obey God ... but getting baptised and joining the church seemed like such a hard thing.” She took a long sip of her hot chocolate and continued, “In the end some of my sister’s friends pretty much ‘guilted’ me into it by pointing out that while Christians in other parts of the world were being persecuted for their faith and risking their lives by identifying themselves as believers, I was quibbling about being baptised and sharing my testimony in front of people who’d be thrilled to hear it.”

“Wow - you had people pushing you into making a profession of faith? I had the opposite!”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’d wanted to get baptised since I was about eight, because I knew that’s what that Bible tells believers to do, but Mum and Dad wanted me to wait until I was twelve. They said if Jesus waited until he was twelve before he was considered mature enough to go up to the temple at Jerusalem, it was good enough for me, too. But when I was finally twelve and asked at church, a couple of the elders wanted me to wait until I was an independent adult.” Leanne gave a look of exasperation. “I was pretty miffed. Like, there were kids at my grandparents’ church who’d been baptised when they were five or six, and I was being told I should wait until I was over eighteen, or maybe even in my twenties!”

###

“There were kids that young baptised at my church, too. Why didn’t they want to baptise you?”

Leanne tilted her mug to scrape out the last of the hot chocolate with her spoon. “Because I’d been brought up in a Christian home, they thought I hadn’t really had a chance to choose to follow Jesus. As far as they were concerned, there was no visible change in my life from being not-a-Christian to being one. They felt if I waited until I was no longer dependent on my parents and in a situation like being away at Uni or out working, where being a Christian was actually choosing the more difficult path, it would be clearer to see that I was truly converted, not just going along with the flow or doing what would make my parents happy. If I’d come from a non-Christian home, that wouldn’t have been such an issue.” She shook her head and laughed, “It would be like if I’d brought a school friend from a non-Christian background to know Christ then they could have been baptised and join the church, yet I’d still be waiting until who knows when!”

“That does seem pretty unfair.”

“That’s what my parents thought, too. Like having an extra high hurdle to get over than any other new Christian had -- everyone else got the help and support of the church when they were a new Christian, except if you were a kid from a Christian home you’d had to prove you could make it on your own before they’d let you in!”

Jemimah frowned, thinking of her own experience at Leanne’s age. “Even though it had been such a big step for me to take, becoming a member of my church and having Christians who were committed to me made all the difference when I felt so alone being a Christian at high school, and was struggling with a lot of things. Not just having their encouragement but knowing I had made a public commitment to them as well as God, and if I was slack or gave in and compromised my faith, it would impact them, too.”

“Yeah -- Mum said that being a teenager was probably one of the hardest times to get through as a Christian, and the more support and accountability the better. She reckoned if the teen years are when you are forming your own identity, rather than being made to wait until you’re through all that, wouldn’t it be even more important to be involved with the members of your church during that time, so their influence helps shape who you are becoming, and you head into adulthood already putting the most important priorities in place first. She thought it was a good thing for a young person to learn to serve and take some responsibility too, rather than being self-absorbed and building their life around their own preferences like our culture encourages you to. Not that there was ever any danger of me being a self-absorbed teenager!” she added in mock offence.

“No, of course, not!” Jemimah smiled in return, before frowning down at her mug. She was grateful for Leanne’s openness with her, but what she was sharing confused her. Jemimah had thought she’d begun to understand her new church here in Jacaranda Plains, and Leanne’s experience didn’t seem to make sense.

“So why did anyone think that making you wait until after your teens would have been best for you or your church?”

“They wanted to do their best to make sure that the church membership is made up only of believers who actually showed they were Christians by their fruit of repentance and obedience to God. Because accepting anyone just on their own testimony that they were born again could be really bad for them and for the church if they went on living an ungodly life because they had never actually been saved.”

“Ouch,” Jemimah said, recalling the hurt she’d felt when she’d thought Michael was calling her own conversion into question when they’d talked after the ‘truckie’ social night. “Were people saying they didn’t think you were really saved?”

“That’s kind of how I took it at first, but Pastor Turnbull helped me see where the others were coming from, too. They were just trying to avoid the mess that happens in a church when any kid who makes a decision for Jesus at the end of a church camp, or who goes through a series of classes at a certain age -- or even as an adult - gets almost automatically made into a church member without necessarily ever having been born again. It ends up with the church being shaped and influenced by people who don’t even know Jesus personally and have completely different motivations, and the world is looking at their lives and thinking that this is what a Christian is and it’s nothing like Jesus.”

Jemimah’s thoughts were now spinning in the opposite direction than just a few minutes earlier, as she thought of some of the people in her own church who’d been baptised as children much as Leanne described, and some who’d made a decision for Christ in their teens, often at rallies or youth camps. Sadly, some of them had become less and less like Jesus as they grew older, and now their lives seemed no different to an unbeliever’s, only coming to church infrequently - if at all. Yet, when important matters had come to the vote in her church, some of those very people would turn up for those meetings, often being the most outspoken. Jemimah realised now she’d seen something of the kind of mess Leanne had referred to, where the directions the church was moving in seemed more about appeasing those disaffected members than anything else.

“It’s all so complicated!” she blurted out, thoroughly perplexed. “How can you balance not wanting to include unbelievers in the church membership, but not exclude young or struggling Christians whose fruit mightn’t be so clear to see?”

She felt acutely aware that if she were to be judged on her own ‘fruit’ during the last few weeks she wouldn’t have much to commend her -- yet she’d been freshly reminded by Pastor Turnbull that very morning of her own need for the church community, all the more while she was struggling so much in her faith.

Leanne was completely unfazed by her question. “But it does all balance out if you take all the aspects of church membership as a whole from the Bible, not just focusing on that one bit of people becoming members but ignoring any of the other responsibilities of the church.”

She took a bite from one of the pastries and then went on. “I was a bit upset at first when I couldn’t go straight ahead with baptism and membership just because a few people didn’t think it was a good idea but Pastor Turnbull asked me to be patient ‘just a wee bit longer’ so the whole church could move forward together in good conscience, and then he began a series of studies about salvation and church membership and went through it all from the Bible.”

Jemimah smiled at Pastor Turnbull’s familiar phrase and nodded for Leanne to continue.

“What he showed us from the Bible is that who you accept - or don’t accept - for church membership is only one part of the way God teaches the church to seek to be holy. It’s like you might be tempted to raise the bar to membership far higher than the Bible does to try to make sure no one joins unless you are absolutely, positively sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that they are saved, but if the church is taking all its responsibilities seriously you can trust the Biblical example and accept people based on their profession of faith and what appears to be credible fruit of conversion - even though on this side of heaven we can’t always know for sure who has been saved or who just knows all the right things to say and do.”

“And that did happen in some of the churches in the New Testament. People who had been accepted as believers later showed themselves never to have been saved at all.”

“Yeah, like even among Jesus’ disciples Judas was accepted as one of the twelve - until he betrayed Jesus and it became very clear that he had never been born again. You know, it was only recently that I saw in the Bible he’d also been dishonest for some time by helping himself to the moneybag he was looking after on behalf of them all. His rebellion against Jesus wasn’t a new thing -- it just hadn’t come to light in front of the other disciples yet.”

“Can I tempt you with another drink, ladies?” The tall barista had appeared almost silently and now hovered by their table.

Jemimah caught Leanne’s eye for confirmation and thanked the man, for the moment at least the passage of time far from her thoughts.

As soon as their host left with their order she looked back to Leanne. “You were saying about how even in the New Testament church they couldn’t know beyond all doubt about anyone’s salvation?”

Leanne’s forehead wrinkled for a moment and then smoothed as she remembered. “Oh, yeah -- about the balance between how the church needs to take the responsibility of welcoming people into membership very seriously, but at the same time not approaching it as though they ought to be keeping out people without dramatic conversions just in case, because that’s only just one part of the church’s responsibilities for their members. The true Gospel needs to be taught so not only are the lost saved through hearing the Word, but everyone really understands what salvation is and isn’t; there should be good Biblical teaching and shepherding so that everyone keeps growing in their faith and,” she paused, counting the points off her fingers as though remembering a lesson, “and the church must be prepared to use Biblical church discipline when a member is unwilling to repent from sin. That’s what Pastor Turnbull said was the Biblical balance, and that the real danger is not in possibly letting someone into membership who just looks like a Christian, but in not responding Biblically when someone shows themselves not to be living like a Christian.”

Jemimah picked up her last piece of pastry and ate it thoughtfully. “That makes me think of the parable Jesus told about the enemy sowing bad seed amongst the good seed so that they both grew up together. And how by trying to pull out all the weeds you’re likely to end up pulling up some of the good crop as well -- when I guess the Christians that are really struggling are probably the ones that need the most help, too.” Like me since I came out here to The Plains ... she added silently.

“Yeah, and a struggling believer will want to turn back to Jesus when they are confronted with their sin and shown the truth. That way, careful shepherding and proper church discipline exposes false disciples but also helps the struggling Christian grow, too. Anyway, it was all good. Although at the beginning I wasn’t very happy about having to wait to go through all that extra study with the church, but now I can see it was a good chance to learn a lot about being a church member and how it was all meant to work in the life of the church.”

“And what about the people who thought you should wait until you were an independent adult? Did they see it differently, too?”

“Yeah. Pastor Turnbull explained that a young person from a Christian home mightn’t have the great big signs of a changed life that someone from a non-Christian background or who’d been like the prodigal son might have, but if they were alive in Christ they would be growing. It might take knowing them well enough to see that spiritual growth but even in an young Christian it should be visible in the way they respond to what they learn from the Bible because they want to be more like Jesus.”

Leanne brushed a straying hair from her face and continued. “Like, some people were concerned that I didn’t have an answer to give about when I was saved, or what had changed in my life since becoming a Christian. But I don’t remember ever not believing in God, or ever not knowing that I was a sinner and that Jesus died on the cross so that if I trusted in him I would be forgiven and go to heaven. Being a Christian for me wasn’t about something that had happened in the past, or a great big change at one point in my life but about what I believe every single day when I sin and know I am still totally relying on Jesus for making me acceptable to God. And what I believe when I struggle with my faith and still trust that what the Bible says about God and the world and me is the truth.”

Jemimah nodded, blinking her suddenly stinging eyes, grateful for the clarity the younger girl’s testimony had just given her. Over the last few weeks she had felt her own faith must look counterfeit to anyone looking on ... her failure to trust, her faithlessness and then so easily falling into sin. But what Leanne was describing was the Christian life, not some shiny example of a perfect life but the ongoing struggle against sin through the help of the Holy Spirit, the daily reliance on the perfection of Christ alone for salvation, the trust in God’s promise of acceptance by faith in His finished work.

“That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” she murmured, thinking aloud. “The everyday relying on Jesus. I guess that’s like what the Bible describes as abiding in Christ -- being like branches connected to the main vine, growing because we are alive in Him. If we weren’t remaining in Him we’d be like branches that were cut off from the vine, that would shrivel up and die.”

She’d been shaken when Michael had told her she couldn’t rely on having made a decision or signed a card to be sure she really was a Christian -- but now it made more sense, her assurance had to be based on continuing to put her trust in Jesus, continuing to turn from sin and continuing to follow after him in obedience.

She looked up as a waitress placed their hot chocolates on the table. After thanking her, Jemimah reached for the remaining portion of the pastries they’d earlier cut into thirds. “Would I seem like a very bad friend if I suggested that we finish off Angie’s portion between us?”

Leanne giggled. “She did say she’d probably had enough cake this morning. And she didn’t know we’d planned to leave her share aside.”

Taking her reply as ample justification, Jemimah cut a couple of small pieces for herself and slid the rest onto Leanne’s plate saying, “And it would be a shame to run out of pastries before we ran out of hot chocolate.”

They subsided into a comfortable silence as they began their second round of morning tea, and Jemimah felt herself beginning to relax a little in the drowsy warmth of the courtyard. She’d thought her role in their growing friendship ought to be somehow to lead and encourage Leanne as a much younger Christian, but it was Leanne who had quite unexpectedly shared the kind of spiritual insight and encouragement she was so desperately in need of herself.

Leanne caught her eye and smiled tentatively. “I haven’t put you off joining the church after me saying all that, have I? I get a bit carried away when I get on a roll.”

Jemimah smiled warmly, “No, you’ve helped a lot actually. Before I moved here I don’t think I had any idea of how little I really understood about church. It’s funny, because when I first came here I was a bit surprised that I wasn’t accepted straight into membership, but then when I started to learn more and feel a bit daunted, Pastor Turnbull didn’t think it was wise for me to hang around forever without joining with the church either. I guess I wasn’t used to the whole membership thing being treated so seriously.”

“Well, it is serious but it’s special, too -- and it’s nice to make an occasion of it like with the lunch tomorrow. Do you think Mitch and Jarrah will stay for that, too?”

“I think so. By the sound of it Mitch at least was counting on Mrs Hart’s contribution to lunch. But hopefully they’ll both stay -- it’s good they already know you and a few people through the social nights.”

“Mmm,” Leanne agreed, apparently concentrating on scraping up the last crumbs from her plate. “Has Mitch ever asked you about Christian things at all? I’ve been wondering if he’s been coming along to the social nights because he’s interested in finding out about God, or whether it’s just something fun to do with Jamie.”

Jemimah shook her head, wondering if Leanne’s cheeks were growing pinker or if it was just midday sun heating up the courtyard. “No -- I can’t remember anything. But he seemed keen.”

Leanne glanced up, her eyes betraying her interest. “That’s exciting, isn’t it? I mean, about both of them coming. You know, when you’ve been praying about something for ages and then to think maybe God is answering your prayers ...” she trailed off, looking across at the archway into the cafe.

Jemimah followed her gaze to see Angie standing at the archway, and waved to catch her eye, but couldn’t help wondering what Leanne might have been about to say.

“Are you two finished?” Angie asked as she approached their table. “I just saw there is a new movie showing at the club this afternoon. Why don’t we stay and watch it since we’re already in town?”

Jemimah’s heart sank. She hadn’t missed the eagerness in Leanne’s expression -- but it was impossible. Apart from being so short of time, she couldn’t in good conscience go on and organise something else while her confession and apology to Bailey and Marlene remained outstanding. Yet the thought of trying to oppose Angie’s idea seemed equally impossible.

She steeled herself and took a deep breath.

“It’s --” was as far as Jemimah got when Angie’s mobile phone started ringing.

Angie dove into her handbag with interest, then scowled when she opened it and saw the caller.

“Yes, Michael?” she answered, her frown deepening further as she listened. “But I thought you’d be hours yet ... Can’t you just leave the keys somewhere? Like on the tyre or something? ... Okay, then -- I guess we’ll have to come.” She shut the phone with a snap and looked up at Jemimah and Leanne.

“So much for a movie - that was Michael. He’s finished up with the cattle already and wants me to drop you off, Jemimah, while he’s still there. So we’ve got to go now.”

Another providential rescue, thought Jemimah gratefully as she gathered up her handbag.

“It was a lovely thought about the movies, though, Angie,” she said aloud, feeling more than a little guilty about her sense of relief. Her conversation with Leanne had reminded her afresh how very blessed she was to have a friend like Angie despite the occasional dilemmas she forced on her, and how Leanne obviously longed for friendships like that, too. “Why don’t the three of us make a special trip just for the movies another day -- I’ll keep my eye out for something nice.”

“Hpmf!” Angie rolled her eyes, “Your idea of ‘nice’ doesn’t give me much hope! Guaranteed boring! You’d even knock back a Jane Austen movie if it wasn’t rated G.”

“Not true -- I could stretch to a PG ... maybe,” Jemimah replied, her spirits rallying as she headed towards the counter inside to pay. “If there is no good reason in the books for a Mature rating -- then I don’t want see what they’ve added in! Besides, I’m sure there’s another animated Disney movie due soon ...”

Leanne’s giggles gave away the face Angie pulled behind her back in reply, and as they left the café, Jemimah found herself smiling naturally for what felt like the first time in forever. There was still so much ahead to be faced -- but at least she was starting to hope there might be light at the end of the tunnel.