Chapter 1
It all happened because of a weather forecast. One cold winter night, the southern New Mexico town of Dobbs unofficially became known to the locals as “Elsewhere.” A TV reporter from up north read the forecasts for that evening. Most of the towns reported temperatures in the low twenties, with a few coming in even lower. As the reporter ended the forecast, she added, “Elsewhere, it is just … cold!” When the good people of Dobbs heard the report, the town was immediately dubbed Elsewhere.
He stood taking in his office window’s view of Dobbs. Shaking his head, he recalled the Scripture that reminds us that the human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs our steps. He’d always heard that if you followed God’s lead, you would get to where He wants you to be. In this case, he hoped it was true. Just when he thought he’d planned the direction his life would take, God directed him to a higher challenge. For some unfathomable reason, God let it be known that he should enter the ministry. And now, after years in seminary, he was an ordained minister. He’d fought God for a long time over this decision. In his heart, he knew that in his younger years, something had been preparing him for this vocation. God had orchestrated his decision along the way, everything leading up to this very moment. After serving as an assistant pastor in the Carolinas, Toby Armstrong was assigned to his first church in a town in New Mexico. He was more familiar with larger towns in northern New Mexico, but he’d heard a lot about Dobbs when he was younger. When he’d heard the assignment was open, he asked to be placed there for personal reasons. Toby’s family had made the acquaintance of a world-famous wood carver, Juan Miguel Ortiz. A family friend had met the artist years before at an artist convention in Georgia. He invited her to come to New Mexico to visit his studio, since she had shown a great interest in his carvings. She, in turn invited Toby’s family to visit her there. Over the years, Toby’s family formed a bond with Juan Miguel. They spent many summers traveling to New Mexico. Young Toby learned the art of woodcarving. What started as fun slowly turned into a passion. He now had many blue ribbons to his credit, and people throughout the country were blessed with beautiful hand-carved angels and Santas. Still at the window, he mused at how the relationship with Juan Miguel had changed his life. Dobbs! Imagine that. He’d known a little bit about the town, so when he heard there would be a need for a pastor, he wanted to be the one to serve. Dobbs was a little border town situated thirty miles from Mexico and housed border patrol, ICE, and local law enforcement, who all worked hard at securing the borders. It was a town like many small towns in the Southwest. At times the main street looked downtrodden. Businesses would come and go, leaving the main hub looking like empty gaps in a row of teeth. The town, like many places throughout the country, was feeling the effects of the economic times. Yet the businesses that remained were doing very well, and several big names had come into town recently. Walmart, Walgreens, and a six-screen movie theater had all opened their doors earlier in the year. The people of Dobbs were as excited as children on their first trip to Disney World. Slowly the town was beginning an upswing. One thing that was evident to Toby was the townspeople’s resilience. The spirit of the town was evident in the spirit of the people. Dobbs was a true desert town flanked by the Big and Little Florida Mountains, which the locals pronounced floor-ee-da. Typical of desert areas, when the July rains came, the town was a profusion of color. Each year the town proudly had a kielbasa dinner put on by one of the local churches, and another held a barbecue. People came from all over for these special events, which also featured artists and musical groups. Dobbs was also well known for its annual Duck Race Day, which was held during the barbecue. The event was so popular that CNN once came to film the races. Trying, as yet unsuccessfully, to pull himself away from the window, Toby realized he had to get down to business and address his first sermon, which he’d have to give in only six days. His first sermon—in his first church. After nights of trying to come up with a meaningful sermon, he’d decided on one titled “Bloom in the Desert.” Having visited the desert of New Mexico often over the years, he’d discovered how true that was. Still looking out the window, he reminded himself that he was hours late for his morning jog, something he’d been doing religiously for years. Yet he could not pull away from the view of the Florida Mountains. It was one he was sure he’d never tire of. During the day, the mountains were golden in the sun, and in the evenings, they were drenched in the blues, purples, and soft pinks of sunset. Raking through his curly black hair with his hand, he smiled as he watched people buzzing up and down the street. It was encouraging to see so many serious walkers, joggers, and bike riders. Physical fitness was important to Toby, which was evident in how he cared for his body. His mother was always amazed that he was a full six feet tall, especially since she was a mere five feet and his father was only five seven. Toby was blessed with a voracious appetite but never seemed to gain weight. After all these years, he still held to his lean college weight. His college friend, Abby, had always been frustrated with how he could eat anything and not put on a pound. She was also the one who teased about his good looks and his beautiful, “chocolaty,” deep, dark eyes. A sad smile crossed his face as he thought back to Abby. He was so lost in his thoughts he’d again let time slip by. Walking to his desk, he was startled to hear a tap on the door. Bernie Nevarez, his secretary, popped in. “Pastor, Mr. Huggins is here to see you. Can you spare a few minutes?” “Send him in, and can you bring us a couple of coffees, if you have time?” “Will do.” She smiled. Toby felt so lucky to have Bernie as his secretary. She ran the office with a strong arm and was willing to double-check everything. She’d been the secretary of this Methodist church for sixteen years. Bernie was tiny and always dressed in bright Mexican colors. She wore her thick black hair in a short, stylish fashion. Her mere presence brightened any room she entered. She and her husband had a teenage daughter, and Bernie had pictures of the three of them covering one large shelf in her office. She dearly loved her family, and it was evident to all who knew her. Toby had met Ralph Huggins the day he moved into the parsonage. It was Ralph who asked the congregation for a few strong men to do some of the heavy moving. Toby knew a few things about Ralph. He was a rancher. He was head of the Staff Parish Relations Committee, and, Toby was told, he was every pastor’s dream. A member of the church for sixty-some years, he knew everything about church and community events. Entering the office, he grasped Toby’s hand. Once again Toby was impressed with Ralph’s stature and the strength of his hands. There was no doubt that Ralph was an outdoorsman. A permanent, deep tan spread across his leathery, sun-creased face. His thick white hair widely framed his head. Ralph’s hands were calloused, showing years of hard work. “Thanks for seeing me, Toby—er, is it okay to call you Toby?” “Sure, Ralph. Makes me feel like I’m home.” Toby motioned to a chair and slid another one over to a round table.