Luke's wife

by Evelyn R. Garratt

The doctor had said that she was thoroughly overworked. And yet he had never noticed how she was getting thin and pale! How often had he asked her to do things for him so that he might go off to some meeting or other, and it had never crossed his mind that the anxiety of leaving Pat with inexperienced Polly must have added to the strain.

Then he had never shared in the care of the child; in fact he had at times asked Rachel to do what she could to keep him quiet as his crying somewhat disturbed him working. Not many weeks after his birth he had moved his bed into his dressing room, as the child's restlessness prevented him sleeping, and he felt his sleep to be all important to his work. He had never realised that Rachel also wanted an occasional night's rest.

And what had she not given up for him! Her luxurious home, where she had every comfort; her mother and sisters who had petted and loved her; her out of door pursuits; her flowers which she loved so passionately; her ease and her friends. And what had he given up for her in return? Nothing! Nothing!

In exchange for all her home comforts, he had given her a pokey little house, poverty, overwork, and strain!

He was indeed in the Valley of Humiliation!

Then he suddenly rebelled at his thoughts and he started up and began to pace the room. Given her nothing! He had given her his heart's love. All the love that he knew how to give. Next to his God was his love for his wife; and he knew that in this sudden reaction of thought Rachel would be one with him. Though poor compared to her love for him he had given her his best. She knew she was all the world to him. Life without her was unthinkable. He paused as he reached his writing table, looking down absently at his Sunday sermon which he had already begun. The text of it faced him.

"'These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.'"

The words gave him a shock. They so exactly described him, and yet he had been so unconscious of his delinquencies that he had actually intended to preach to his people about theirs.

"'These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.'" The Word of God condemned him. He had forgotten that preaching and visiting were not the only duties to be done for God, or the only work. Did not St. Paul lay a special stress on the home life?

He realised now that though he loved his wife so devotedly, he had been so engrossed in his own affairs that he had neglected her. He suddenly paused in his walk. That was Rachel's voice. Evidently little Pat was restless and his mother was singing him to sleep. Luke could hardly bear the sound of her dear voice. It pierced his heart like an arrow. He pictured just how she was looking, walking up and down in her bedroom with the child in her arms. He had often heard her sing the words that he now heard, but he remembered how even the sound of her singing at times had disturbed him, and he had asked her to stop. But this evening, he listened and wept.