Hello everyone! So today, I’m back with more of my ramblings and a much-requested blog post… How I met my Husband! So this rambling will fall under the Life category! Without further ado, let’s hop in!
I always prayed that my relationship would move quickly... I didn't exactly mean 12 hours from Hello to Can I Write You...
So it all started a year ago today! On March 10th, 2020, my dad took two of my sisters and me with him to the Capitol Connection in Washington, D.C. One of my sisters wasn’t feeling well (not the virus that shall not be named *halo*), my other sister decided to stay with her at the hotel, so I was the chosen one who went with Dad that day. We walked toward the Capitol Building for our group photo on the steps when a tall, blondish/reddish-haired man with a beard walked up and struck up a conversation with us. I was a little gun shy… he was obviously from up north, though he didn’t come off like a yankee, and his accent wasn’t irritating to me. And for being from Maryland, he sure knew his conservative politics!
He talked with my dad and me and offered to meet up with us at the Supreme Court to get pictures later if his group didn’t go straight to lunch. Which they did. I figured I would never see him again.
And I was surprised that this bothered me. I realized I found him interesting and attractive, and I immediately prayed and asked God to help me NOT think about him. I wasn’t there to meet guys. I was there to be a witness and encouragement! I didn’t need a distraction. So could You please help me not think about him? Thank You!
Only… He didn’t.
Seemed like every time I turned around, I thought about our talk and wished he would just show up. I prayed hard for God to take it away from me. But He just wouldn’t! And who just happened to be there when we were waiting for our bus to pick us up?
During the rest of that day, he just kept popping up! He even went on the midnight tour with us that evening. And I figured he wanted to talk to my dad about our ministry! I didn’t know he was interested in me until he asked my dad if he could contact me to “see where God might lead this”!
Long story short, my parents and I prayed about it, and about a week later, I got my first email! Dad and Mom read it first, then my mom got me off to the side and handed me dad’s phone. I was elated!
Then the virus that shall not be named struck and quarantine happened.
My mom still hadn’t met Jacob, and I hadn’t met his parents. I knew there was no way our relationship could move forward until we had. But God had plans!
In May, I was allowed to receive one chaperoned phone call a week. And in June, God worked it all out for our families to meet! We spent the first day at their house, and the next, we went to Gettysburg for the first time since 2011! We crawled all over Devil’s Den, and Jacob and I got plenty of time to talk and get to know each other better. The next day, Sunday, June 28th, we were given our parents’ blessing to officially begin courting.
He came down in July to visit, and we came up in August, where I got to meet his extended family! Then in September, he came down for Labor Day weekend.
Mom suggested we finally get some pictures since we forgot the last time we saw each other. I put on a little makeup and curled my hair.
He left to freshen up, and I went out with my sisters to pick a good spot in our wooded area. Jacob came out and surprised me with a dozen roses. Then he told me he would only give roses to someone he really liked… someone he loved.
Now in our family, you can’t say I Love You until you are getting engaged.
I busted out crying, then finally told him yes, I would marry him!
The next few months were a blur as we wrestled with the perfect date, location, and attendants. We were married on December 19th, just nine months and 9 days after we met!
Is that how things typically go in our family? Do I recommend people just getting married willy-nilly?
But this wasn’t anyone else’s story. This was our story. This was God’s plan for us. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world! God makes no mistakes!
A few more fun facts, though…
About two weeks before I met Jacob, I prayed and at last gave up the struggle over being single at 23. It was hard. I referred to it as my Jacob wrestling with the Angel moment. I had no idea I would marry a Jacob 😉. One week before I met Jacob, a close family friend encouraged me to pray that I would meet my future spouse this year. Not get in a relationship per se, just meet them. It was a week to the day before God had our paths cross! Then I found out on my wedding day that my sister had explicitly prayed that I would meet my Husband at Capital Connection. God is so good!
I’ve been thinking about the Founding Fathers a lot of late. What a statesman John Adams was; How much I despise Alexander Hamilton (is he even a Founding Father??); Wishing George Washington had stood up to the Muslim Corsairs; How grateful I am that Thomas Jefferson did stand up to them; How inspiring Patrick Henry’s speeches were. And it got me to thinking… what other stories don’t we know about the Founding Fathers just because they aren’t as famous as Benjamin Franklin? I have no idea who Joseph Hewes, William Hooper, and John Penn are, and they signed for North Carolina! Have you ever heard of John Jay? How about William Floyd? May I encourage you, reader, in this day and age who wants to erase even the famous from history, that you take a little time to read about the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence? To research the ones who ratified the Constitution? To read up on the men who lead our people on the field of battle? Who stirred up the people to see what was happening right in front of them? Who are the Sons of Liberty? Was the Boston Massacre really a Massacre? Where they all honorable men? Well, no. Did they make mistakes? Yep, they were human, just like us. But how will you even know who these people are if you don’t take the time to care? How can we lose our history if, in our ignorance, we never had it?
Pick up a book on the Founding Fathers today.
So y’all know I love to read! Today, I want to share about a book I finished last month! A full review is coming, but people! The Color Red by Katja L. was. So. Good. If you ever get the opportunity to read it, you really need to! The style is charming and full of words to expand your vocabulary, and it’s written in such a way that it just sucks you right into the main character’s head! Like I said, a full review is coming, but please, add this book to your Goodreads TBR!
Well, I need to wrap this up! I hope you are all having a lovely day in the Lord!
What’s going on in your life? Share about your favorite Founding Father! Read any good books of late? Comment below and fill us in!
God bless you, and God bless America!
Hello everyone! I’m am so excited to share the first episode in a new history series, Unsung Heroes! I’m thrilled to showcase men and women of American history who are often overlooked, especially by the younger generation! Without further delay, let’s dig into the life of James Armistead!
James Armistead was born around 1760. Living most of his life as a slave in New Kent, Virginia, I haven’t found much information about his younger years. But when he reached his late teens/early twenties, he asked his master, William Armistead, for permission to offer his services to Gen. Lafayette during the American Revolution. Every American can be grateful that Mr. Armistead gave his consent, for we owe our freedom to the brilliant Patriot, James.
Gen. Marquis de Lafayette was glad to have James, who ended up becoming America’s first double agent! Fooling the British into believing he was a runaway, James collected valuable intel to the Patriot armies. One of his more famous bits of intel almost led to the capture of the traitor Benedict Arnold!
In the siege of Yorktown, it was only because of James’ warning to Lafayette and Washington that British reinforcements were on the way. This allowed them to divert them from Yorktown and defeat the British forces there, which led to the end of the war and the independence of our great nation, America.
Because James served as a spy and not a soldier, he was excluded from the “Fight for your Freedom” deal made with slaves who fought for our country. But he didn’t give up. Pursuing legal action, James waited for many years to become free. But thanks to a letter to Congress from Marquis de Lafayette, James’ patience was rewarded, and in 1787, he became a free man!
He lived out his life on a 40-acre farm with his wife and children. They bore the last name of Lafayette in gratitude to the man who helped them secure a free life in America.
James Armistead Lafayette passed away in 1832, around 72 years of age.
We owe a debt of gratitude to this brave Patriot, who paved the way for freedom for every American…
Likewise, may we be brave in paving the way for others worldwide enslaved to sin. May we daily pray for laborers and do all in our power to get the Gospel into their hands. Never deny our Savior and never give up until all have heard.
Writing Prompt: Have you ever heard of James Armistead? Have a fun fact to share about him? Do you have a recommendation for an Unsung Hero we should mention? Share your thoughts below!
Have a blessed day, and God Bless America!
IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE, PEOPLE!!!! Tomorrow is Christmas! And as a present for you, come back tomorrow for two special surprises! For now, let's get to the conclusion of Expected End!
Part Seven: Returning the Favor
“…James, darling, please won’t you answer mother?”
James moaned and rolled onto his side, barely hearing the muffled words addressing him. His face drew up and his whole body shook as a holler exploded from his lips.
“Oh, darling, it’s going to be all right! The doctor’s coming. I’m sorry, you’ll feel much better soon, I promise.”
James bit down on his lips to keep from screaming again, but it didn’t fully keep his cries silent. A gentle hand rubbed his face, then wrapped him in a tight hug. James felt constricted and tried to push the person away.
“Here’s the doctor now. Just a bit longer, darling…”
Something lukewarm splashed into his mouth, nearly choking him, but after a few moments, the pain subsided and he’s breathing regulated to it’s normal tempo. He heard a snap, but felt nothing but the doctor wrapping something stiff around his leg. He dropped his head against the pillow and with a dull moan, he slipped into a medicated sleep.
“…Darling, can you hear me? Won’t you talk to me now?”
He slowly opened his eyes. It was his beloved mother, cradling his head in her arms. “Oh, you are alive! The doctor said you would die. You’re so sick and that wagon broke your leg, oh!” She kissed his dirty cheek and hugged him tightly. He could feel her tears as she pressed her face against his. Tears of anguish at what had almost happened and joy and relief at what had happened.
James could hardly believe what was happening himself. He was in his own home, in his own bed. His mother was hovering over him, providing long denied comforts for her beloved son. Among those were a warm, wet cloth passing over his face, cleaning away the dirt and grim, just as she had done when he was just a child. She pulled another blanket over his shivering frame and continued a running commentary on how the doctor had made an improper diagnosis. It wasn’t until she left him to get some nourishing chicken and veggie soup that he noticed the two soldiers sitting nearby.
“Andrew,” he whispered. “Gabriel.” He tried to sit up.
The two came to his side and told him to lie quietly, to save his strength. Gabe’s arm was in a sling and Andy had a blood- stained bandage wrapped about his head. “You had us in a tight spot, Jamie,” Andy remarked. “Took us ten whole minutes to scare off your redcoat captors. Are you all right?”
The young man shrugged. “Been better, been worse. Thank you—”
“No, James,” Gabe cut in, kneeling beside him and gripping arm with his good hand. “Thank you. That night you were caught, twenty-seven prisoners were able to escape because of your work. And your papers were dropped in the snow. You must have dropped them in the scuffle. One of the men were able to get them and bring them back to camp. We got the ammunition you detailed about. Thank you for risking it all. Thank you for not giving in to the tyrants. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
James looked at his two friends as his mother returned. She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. James was overwhelmed with gratitude to his friends and his Savior for his rescue. He turned his face away for a moment. His mother gently rubbed the moisture off his cheeks as the tears trickled down. “I’m too old for this,” he said with a laugh.
He faced his friends once more, only to find that they too were wiping their eyes. The three were like brothers and the fact that they were all safe, out of British hands was a relief. James didn’t know of their sleepless nights spent searching for ways to get on board the Hawk without the Redcoats’ knowledge; of the bribes they had used to gain information about him; or the times they had tried to negotiate his release. He didn’t know how close they had come to getting caught by the Brits trying to free him, or of the tortured thoughts they’d had about his being killed or otherwise dead. That is a story for another time.
The important thing now was that James was safe, on the road to recovery… and no longer condemned to die.
Mrs. Tanner helped James with his supper. By the time he had finished his food, he was exhausted. Mrs. Tanner stayed by his side until he fell asleep. She turned to Andy and Gabe. “How’s the other patient?”
Gabe shrugged. “If the towns people had their way, he’d be dead right this minute. As it is, he’s still not doing that well. Doctor Ames said the bullet went very deep. He still hasn’t woken up yet.”
Mrs. Tanner filled a bowl with warm water and picked up a cloth. “Will you boys sit with James? I’m going to see to the lad. What was his name again?”
“Cpl. Howard Percy, that’s what the other soldiers said anyway,” Gabe replied.
Mrs. Tanner nodded and left the room. James mumbled, stirring, “Percy… help Percy…”
Andy bent over him. “What?”
“He’s asleep again. I guess hearing us talk leaked into his sleep.”
The next morning, Mrs. Tanner took a seat next to James and opened her Bible. “Let’s read some of the Word together, shall we?”
James smiled. He had missed this.
When the reading was over, Mrs. Tanner insisted that if James felt up to it, he should tell her everything. And when Mrs. Tanner said everything, she meant everything. Slowly at first, James told her his story, beginning with his volunteering for the mission on impulse. Then the words tumbled out one after another, telling her everything that he could remember, omitting only the very worst parts.
Mrs. Tanner bent forward, listening to her son’s saga with rapt attention.
“I was coming very close to dying when a fellow named Percy… Percy! Didn’t you say something last night about Percy?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“It was a fellow named Percy that saved my life! He helped me when I was about to die in the hold of the ship! Mother, what were you saying about Percy?”
“Dear, I seriously doubt it’s the same fellow. Remember, you said you were in New York when this happened. We’re all the way down in Virginia.”
“But it could be! Our ship was boarded many times! And I didn’t get a good look at all of our guards. It could be him! Mother, is he here?”
“Calm yourself, darling! Yes, I have a redcoat here in my care, a young one named Howard Percy. He was shot, and the colonel had him brought here until further notice. But—”
“Please, mother, let me see him!”
“Mother, he… he prayed with me. He was the only man who prayed with me when I needed it the most.”
Mrs. Tanner looked at her son, and gently rubbed his shoulder, seeing the tears gather in his eyes and feeling the tears welling in her own. “I’ll see what we can arrange. For now, you need to rest yourself. I’ll do what I can for him and talk with the doctor when he comes.”
“Please, mama, don’t let him die! Please!”
“That’s not up to me, darling, that is up to our Heavenly Father. Why don’t we talk to Him about it?”
Later that evening, Cpl. Percy was carried into the same room as James, so they would only need to light one fire to keep the boys warm. James took one look at his face and knew at once that it was his prayer warrior.
Day after day, the Tanners carried for and prayed over Percy. When at last he awoke and had eaten some of Mrs. Tanner’s delicious soup, he turned to James. “Looks like we’re destined to bump into one another. Thank you for praying.”
James smiled at him. “Thank you for praying with me when I needed it most. You really helped me to rest in the Lord.”
Percy’s smile widened. “We might not be on the same side, but we serve the same God I see.”
James nodded. “Praise the Lord for a Savior who doesn’t care about the color of your coat.”
Did you like the ending? What did you think of the story? Are you excited for Christmas? Don't forget to hop over to Stories by Firefly for more Christmas fun!
Merry Christmas Eve!
Merry Christmas! Wow, day 9 already! Only three days until Christmas! Who's excited?? I'm thrilled to bring you part 6 of Expected End today! Without further ado, let's hope into today's story!
Part 6: Condemned to Die
The next morning, the condemned were marched down the plank onto dry ground for the first time in what seemed like forever. James found he couldn’t walk as a combination of his leg injury and being used to a rocking ship. Two fellow prisoners were chained to him and were forced to help their dizzy companion along.
Snow fell thick and fast around them as they slogged through the drifts and mud. If they had shoes, they were ragged. Those who didn’t grimly resigned themselves to dealing with frostbite in their final day. James shivered, trying to hop on his good foot, but he finally gave up; he was more of a hindrance than a help.
After five hours of forced marching and sheer misery, the twenty men were loaded onto a wagon bound for the town of Lynchburg… two towns over from James’ home. Half of him hoped perhaps he would see someone, anyone, familiar, the other half hoped no one he knew would witness his present appearance or execution. He had been a miserably impulsive soldier and not very helpful at all. But he had been eager and willing… and now he was preparing to die. He had nothing to show for his service or his life for that matter. He didn’t want them to see him like that. He didn’t want to die like that!
Around 6:45 that night, the wagon rolled into Lynchburg. The guards shouted and the men were unloaded from the wagon. They were marched to a jail house which to be honest was a big improvement from their previous confinements. The jailer watched as the men were marched into his building. James glanced at him as he limped past and read his expression clearly. He looked as if he wanted to express sympathy, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t say anything in front of the redcoats.
“Make sure their chains are secure and that your doors are locked. No visitors, not even the clergy are allowed. We are not taking any chances on losing these prisoners”
The jailer nodded and urged the Redcoats to hurry to the hotel before they were locked out. As soon as the brawly lot had taken their leave, the jailer hurried over to a door which led to a side room. Moments later, he emerged carrying large basket. Setting it outside the first cell, the jailer fumbled with his keys and inserted the key into the lock, swinging the door open.
“Here,” he said, briskly, “I was able to get word to my wife before you arrived, and she sent food. I’m so terribly sorry about this turn of events. Don’t lose heart yet. God is still in control. Here, take this roll, and there’s roast chicken too.”
He went from cell to cell, handing out food and then hurried away to fetch fresh water. That in itself was a luxury. Grateful, the prisoners blessed their food and tore into their bounty. James tried his best to eat, but due to his recent illness, his appetite was nearly gone.
“Come on, James, chicken will help you get stronger,” his companions urged him.
“Stronger?” he said with a humorless laugh. “Yep, I’ll get plenty strong with less than 24 hours to live.”
“Well aren’t you mister optimistic tonight.”
“I’m just stating a fact. God’s done with us. We need to accept that and not be disappointed that we are going to meet Him. It almost seems rude to pretend it’s not true.”
The soldiers looked at each other, unsure what to say. The jailer smiled. “With God, my young friend, all things, even the impossible, are made possible. Never give up hope.”
James arched an eyebrow and shook his head. He was tired of sitting up and stretched out on the floor, his breathing wheezy.
“Can’t you believe in the impossible, lad?” the Jailer asked, coming to sit beside him. Gently, he raised James head to help him take a sip of water. “Isn’t Christmas the time for impossible miracles? It started with one, the virgin birth of the Christ Child. If God can do that, can’t He do something as simple as rescuing the captive from the jaws of death? He did it for Peter you know.”
James furrowed his brow, wracking his brain for the account the man spoke of, but he was too exhausted to remember it. “You’ll have to refresh my memory, sir.”
“Well, lie quiet and listen up,” the man instructed, popping a small piece of chicken into the boy’s mouth. James relented and chewed on the savory meat. Maybe he was hungry after all…
“Peter was arrested and condemned to die in the prisons of the Roman government. There was no escape. There were over a dozen guards watching over his cell and Peter was chained between two of them! It was impossible for his friends to break in, much less rescue Peter. But God sent an angel to deliver him. His chains fell off and the door and gate opened for him, all without the guards seeing a thing!
“Peter went straight to the home of some fellow believers and after quite a mix up, he was let in. If God could do that then, don’t you believe He could do that now, this very night if he chose? Or do you believe God has lost his power?” the jailer challenged.
James finished the last bite of his chicken, considering the man’s words. “I know He is able. I just don’t believe He will this time.”
“Ye have not because ye ask not,” the jailer quipped. “You may be right, but never give up praying for a miracle. God may choose to celebrate His Son’s birthday by answering yes to your prayers.”
James looked up at the man as he stood to leave.
Be still and know that I am God… For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
The following evening, the twenty prisoners bid a silent farewell to their jailer friend and were marched out to the town square. James was held up between two men as they were marched to the execution grounds. They were lined up in front of forty Redcoats with shiny muskets. James saw a group of townspeople gathered nearby. Some were calling out words of encouragement to the poor Patriot victims; other wept for their loved ones in the line of condemnation. A preacher lifted up his voice in prayer for the brave, unrepentant heroes about to die.
He turned towards the voice just as a wild war whoop sounded from behind the troopers. James’ companions threw him and themselves to the ground as bullets flew and shouting continued. Dogs barked, and the church bells pealed through the cold winter air. James heard a snap and pain shot through his right leg as something rolled over it. His face contorted with the pain. What was happening?
Have you figured out what happened? Well, if not, you'll have to wait until Christmas Eve to hear the conclusion! Tomorrow I am sharing 5 things I want to do this Christmas! Click here for more Christmas fun and I'll see you tomorrow!
Merry Christmas and welcome back! I'm so excited to share today's story part with you today! I'm writing this in advance but I know that today is very busy and filled with Christmas spirit! We have a lot going on today, so prayers are appreciated!
Part 4: A Friend Among Enemies
For days, the Hawk bobbed in the rough waters just off the New York shore. James could keep nothing down as his illness raged in form of a fiery fever. Precious pounds melted away as his conditioned worsened. Delirious most of the time, James would moan and cry out for his mother and people he knew from back home. His former comforter was no longer there to ease his fits; he had succumbed to pneumonia and consumption.
The guards cared little that he was deathly ill, only that he was disturbing the “peace” of the deck above and did all within their power to silence him. James continued to toss and turn in his sleep until his body was completely exhausted.
One day, when the water was calmer, the prisoner could hear footsteps overhead. Several people were boarding the ship. More prisoners perhaps? But nearly half an hour went by and no one came down the rickety old ladder.
Suddenly, the old trap door groaned and squeaked in protest as it was heaved open. For a full minute, nothing happened. Then, light, almost silent steps descended the rungs. Something bumped the wall with a clank, like the sound a bottle of liquid makes when bumped. No one dared to move, or scarcely to breathe… except James, oblivious to his surroundings or to the covert intruder of their misery and humiliation.
Keeping to the shadows wouldn’t have been hard; that was all the prisoners knew. Their ears pricked at the sound of a match being struck and their eyes burned as a lantern was lit, illuminating their dungeon for the first time in days.
“James Tanner?” a thick London accent called in a hoarse whisper.
“What do you want with him?” someone snapped. “He’s not hurt a soul! Leave the lad to die in God’s time!”
“Nay,” the Londoner said briskly. “I only want to ease his suffering,” he motioned to a bag he carried. “If ye shan’t help me, I’ll find him one way or another. I know what he looks like.”
“Far corner there. But please, don’t hurt him. He’s in enough pain as it is.”
The London speaker made his way through the wretched hold of the ship to James’ corner. He knelt and gently examined the young man by the light of his lantern. A fellow prisoner watched as the redcoat carefully cleansed the wounds, stitched cuts and applied salve to bruises. Carefully, he measured out a dose of medicine and poured it into James’ mouth.
James stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. He stared up at the British soldier, his vision blurry. The soldier smiled and gently squeezed James’ shoulder. “Might I pray with thee, friend?”
James stared at him blankly, then closed his eyes and let his head drop to the side. The redcoat bowed his head and placed a hand on James’ head. “Lord God, we bow heart and head before Thee to ask for healing of this brave young fighter. Father, Thou knowest that he and I do not see eye to eye on the situation with the rebellion. But Father, he showed up for what he believed in, and I cannot fault him for the stand he has taken. It takes courage to endure what he has endured. Lord God, I implore Thee, bless him, strengthen him and heal his body. But let it not be in vain, my Lord and Savior. Let him come unto Thee if he has yet to do so. And if he is already Thine, I pray Thee make a difference in this darkened world through his life. Help him to be still and know that Thou alone art God and that since Your eye is on the sparrow, that he is worth far more to Thee than a paltry bird. Let not his life be in vain. I humbly ask these petitions in the Name of Thy Holy Son, Jesus the Christ, Messiah and Lord. Amen.”
James opened his eyes, water gathered in the corners. Through the moisture, he saw the insignia the soldier bore, that of a corporal. Recognition washed over James. The commander’s aide.
“Percy, hurry! There’s a guard coming!” a voice called from upstairs. Quickly and quietly, “Percy” made his way back the way he had come. The light disappeared, and the trap door swung closed. Once more they were engulfed in darkness.
James let his eyes fall shut and for the first time in weeks, he slept peacefully, the words of Percy’s prayer trailing though his mind.
The next morning, watered down corn mush was served and for the first time in weeks, James was able to finish his portion and keep it down. The guard scowled at him and scrutinized his appearance. His eye narrowed to slits but he said nothing.
The head guard leaned against a beam, his arms crossed. “We’ll, you rebels will be glad to know, we are leaving the harbor. We’re heading back south. But don’t get your hopes up. You’ll never get off this ship… unless you decide to join us. If not, this ship will be your death bed and the sea will be your grave!”
James pulled himself up, what little life that was still in him lighting his dark eyes. If only he could just see the land again! Maryland, Virginia… either one would be a sight for his sore eyes.
A week passed and the news soon arrived that they were anchored off the coast of Virginia. The knowledge was enough to drive James mad. He could almost smell his home colony, yet it was hidden from his sight. He begged the guard to have him up on deck for only five minutes, but he was flatly refused and got his ear boxed for his trouble.
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
I know, God, James thought. I know Your thoughts are higher than mine and that You are going to give me an expected end. But why can’t I at least see my homeland before I die?
Be still and know that I am God.
James sighed. That verse brought a calm over him. Every time he complained or asked God why, that verse played through his mind as if audibly spoken. What was the reason behind it? Why did God want to teach him to be still right before he died? What good would that do him?
A washer woman arrived at the Hawk to gather laundry. She picked up the basket, then glanced casually around the room. Seeing James, she hurried over to him. “What’s you’re unit?”
“15th Virginia. Why?”
“Never mind, that’s all I needed to know.”
He watched as she disappeared.
“Guard, what day is it, please?” someone asked, and James lifted his head.
“And why would ye be wanting to know, Yank?”
“Just wanting to add up how long I’ve been here.”
You and me both, James thought.
“December 11th,” the guard snapped.
The questioner dropped his head. “Two years in this place,” he whispered.
James swallowed hard. Two years? Oh, dear Lord, please no. Please, get us all out of here!
“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” James froze. Had he actually just said that out loud?
Apparently so, because everyone in the guards’ dim lantern light were staring at him.
“You have an expected end,” the guard growled, back handing him. “You’re end will be a splash in the water and eternity in—”
“Humphreys, come on!” a second guard shouted. “Something’s going on upstairs!”
Humphreys hurried over to the ladder and soon darkness swallowed the room again. All was silent until the two-year veteran said, “Thank you, Tanner. I needed to hear that verse again.”
James shrugged nervously. “Sometimes I speak out of turn. I should have waited for the guard to leave. I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“It convicted him,” the man answered solemnly. “As it should. And you didn’t talk out of turn.”
James fell silent. Feet ran back and forth along the deck. “Pepper, what do you hear?” someone whispered to the fellow nearest the ladder.
Pepper strained his ears and his eyes widened, even in the dark. “Benedict Arnold is aboard fellows!”
“They’ve captured the general?” someone cried in alarm.
“Where have you been? He deserted to the enemy over a year ago.”
“I’ve been here for a year. No one ever told me… why would Gen. Arnold do such a thing?”
“He’s a sorry traitor, that’s why,” another responded.
“Maybe, but an underappreciated hero while we had him,” another pointed out. “He was the best General we had!”
James decided to stay out of this conversation. He needed to focus on a new thought. Perhaps he should share the scriptures that had been playing on his mind. Maybe the others could help him make sense of it all.
What do you think of Percy? Do you think James will get to see Virginia before he dies? What is going on? Swing by tomorrow for part 5!
As Always, swing by Stories by Firefly for more Christmas fun!
Christian. American. Southern. Author.
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