Hello everyone! I hope you are having a blessed Memorial Day. As we pause to remember those who have died to keep us free, please take a moment to pray for their families. They are still living the nightmare of waking up everyday without their loved one. Their brothers and sisters in arms wake up everyday without a text or call from their buddy. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

The parade came, and we had the truck all gussied up, with red, white, blue, and Army green. Hud drove with his BDUs on, and I sat on the back, waving at those who gathered to honor all our fallen soldiers. We got saluted by more people than I could count.

I got a hug from a Vietnam veteran. Another from a WWII Vet. A handshake from a Confederate reenactor. A salute from a Marine who looked suspiciously like Salem Springfield, but I couldn’t be sure.

We went to the football field for the ceremony, the laying of the wreaths and the gun salute and the singing of the National Anthem done by a member of every military branch, a Capella.

Then came the moment for the music. Becca stepped onto the platform, violin in hand, a mic before her to sing at intervals…while I played her backup…on Stanley’s violin. Becca had written the song, and we had practiced like crazy all Saturday evening and between church on Sunday.

And it was perfect. It was called, Do You Remember, Because I Can’t Forget. Soul-Stirring. And heart-wrenching. I cried all the way through it. But I cried even harder when she said, “Normally a dedication is given before a song is sung. But I’m going to do it now because it’s right. This song is dedicated to two Rangers, SPL Randy Bonner[1] , and SPL Stanley Schnyder. Randy is on deployment right now, and Stanley gave it all taking Baghdad. They are both, one on earth and one in heaven, in the palm of our Savior’s Hand. No matter what, they are remembered. For us, as Christians, whether in deployment or in death, there is no Goodbye, only See You Later. And as both of our brothers have taught us, Goodbye isn’t in the Christian Family’s dictionary. If it’s in yours, please see me afterward, and I’ll gladly show you how you can become part of the Family and get rid of your goodbye. God Bless you for being here and God Bless America.”

Wow.

I could never be that bold. I was almost afraid Becca would get in trouble for witnessing at a public event like that, but no one said a word to her about it, other than to ask her how to get rid of their goodbye. She led five people to Christ that day. I got three.

***

That evening, we stayed around and helped clean the stadium, the town volunteers insisting Military and Gold Stars shouldn’t have to, but we insisted on helping. After all, the fallen belong to us too.

As we were finishing, I picked up Stanley’s violin and started to leave, but suddenly, tears rushed to my eyes. I couldn’t see Becca and not wanting to cry in front of a dozen Soldiers, Marines, and strangers. So I ducked into the nearest private place…the bleachers.

By myself in the shadows, I allowed myself to miss Stanley, hugging his violin to my chest and sobbing, trying to shove away the memories of the day I got the news.

After a few moments, I heard Becca and Salem calling for me, and I wiped my face, my moment over, but it was time for it to be over. There was a time for mourning and a time for laughter. And Stanley would want me to choose the latter. Smiling, I called out to my friends, and we walked together to the vehicles.

***

That Friday started horribly. Becca came flying into the house, dictionary in her arms and tears pouring down her face. I grabbed her and shook her. “Becca! What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happening! I was on the phone with Randy, and then somebody yelled, and he said, ‘I love you!’ and the line cut! Something wrong, Chrissy!”

She burst into tears and clung to me, and we both ended up in the kitchen floor, bawling like toddlers and not caring, praying without ceasing that God would please shield Randy.

I stayed with her all day. We eventually went over to their base house and hunkered down, waiting for the call with eager trepidation. Salem drove up from Cherry Point, two hours away, to be with his family, and we all sat in the living room, waiting and praying.

Jason shattered the silence with a straightforward question. “If God…” he cleared his throat. “If God chooses to…take Randy away…will we still love Him?”

Silence hung in the room. Becca shuddered and rested her head against my shoulder, tears seeping into my shirt. Salem ran his hands through his non-existent hair, and Mrs. Springfield closed her eyes. Mr. Springfield paused in his pacing.

I glared at the DVD case propped on the bookshelf.

“Yes.”

All heads turned towards Becca. “Because it’s not the end. God promised we will be together again. I won’t understand why. But I’ll still love Him.”

Salem nodded, his eyes red-rimmed, but as of yet, he was a genuine, stone-faced Marine. Mrs. Springfield sighed. “Yes, I’ll still love Him.”

“As hard as that would be…yes,” Mr. Springfield said.

The phone rang, but no one moved to answer it, staring at it in horror.

So I answered it.

“…Oh! Uh, hello, Miss Christina. Good to hear from you. Is Becca there?”

I squealed and nearly dropped the phone, and I know I’d left his ears ringing. “Becca! Take it! It’s him!”

Becca jumped to her feet, snatching the cordless from me. And with a voice as controlled as if she hadn’t been crying all day, she said, “Randy, don’t you ever scare me like that again! What’s the big idea?!”

I laughed so hard and hugged Mrs. Springfield and Mr. Springfield so hard. We thanked God and cried while Salem called their other son, Timothy, at the Air Force Academy and let him know Randy was all right. It was a beautiful evening.

And we ended it with that movie.

Before I left, Becca grabbed my hand and said, “Thank God, I didn’t have to say that final See You Later. Not yet.”

I hugged her tight as she cried with relief. “Not yet. It’s not time yet. But aren’t you so glad Goodbye isn’t in the dictionary?”

She nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’m gonna read that page all night…and all the letters. I’m just so grateful.”

“Me too, Becca.” I winked. “See You Later!”

***

Salem insisted I come with them to pick Randy up since I had been with them for the whole deployment. I agreed, then realized that he had motives, and I might have elbowed him in the ribs.

Randy ran up to his family, hugging his mom so tight he picked her up. She kissed his cheek; her baby was safe and sound. Becca wedged her way past her brothers to get to him next, and that’s when I saw a couple tears shining in his eyes.

He greeted his brothers, and then he looked at me. He thanked me for being there for Becca. Before I could speak, another Ranger walked up and slapped him on the shoulder. “Later, Boots.”

He grinned, “Later, Pickles.”

I stared at him. Tears rushed to my eyes. “Boots,” I whispered. Randy turned and looked at me. I’d have to show him that letter. He needed to see it.

***

Two Years Later…
 
Uncle Abel came to my wedding. And he was smiling. Becca was my maid of honor, and Mr. Springfield was Randy’s best man. Salem said he should have been the best man since he fell in love with me as a sister before Randy said anything. But Randy insisted he had fallen for me at first sight.

All I care about is that my soldier made it home. He’s deploying in about three months, but we’re okay. We have each other for now. And we will never say goodbye. Because they are not in the dictionary…neither are good cheer or Good Conduct Medal because Randy covered them up to get his See You Later Note in there…

“HEY, LIEBLING, YOU TOLD ME, IT’S NOT HERE. WHY ARE YOU LOOKING? WE ONLY HAVE ‘SEE YOU LATERS.’ BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, I WILL SEE YOU LATER, HERE OR THERE. ALL MY LOVE, MY DARLING. RANGERS LEAD THE WAY…AND SO DO LITTLE SISTERS…”


[1] Note to readers. This is a short story that is part of a WIP. Randy, Becca and a brother named Tim are adopted by the Springfields, but allowed to keep their birth name. That’s why she says Bonner and not Springfield.



So what did you think? Do you like the idea of no Goodbye's for Christians? Did this end the way you thought it would? Who was your favorite Character? Let me know in the comments below!

God Bless America and Never Forget the Fallen and their families.
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

Hello! Long time no see! I'm sorry about the delay in posts, but this past month has been crazy busy with church and school finals! (My husband is a teacher and I helped with the pre-edits on student papers!) My health is finally improving (vitamin deficiencies can through you for a loop!), so hopefully, I'm back on track now!

I'm excited to bring you episode two of GID! (If you are new, read part one here!) Today, we're picking up where we left off, so let's jump back in!

The following morning the bell rang, and Becca entered, her wallet tucked under her arm, and a book clutched in her hands. She made a bee-line for the counter.

“Hey…can we talk?”

I nodded, knowing this was gonna be hard. “I have an hour left. But if it can’t wait—”
“It can. Cause I don’t want to rush.”

“Okay, here, take this to the corner booth and wait for me,” I said, sliding a lemonade across the counter. She took it and retreated, opening the book and settling in.
At last, the hour was up, and I came to her booth. “I know a better place for us to talk, come on.”

Moments later, we were sitting at the pier out back. “This is where he brought me last night…”

I winced. “Okay, so I blew that one…”

“No, this is fine.” Becca took a deep breath. “Randy told me you were the one who told him how to tell me.”

“It’s…what my brother did for me…before he left.”

She held the dictionary out towards me. “I don’t know what your brother did, but I wanted you to see what mine did.”

I smiled, touched that she wanted to share something so special with a stranger. I flipped to the page where “Goodbye” should have been. And I pressed my hand to my mouth to keep from audibly crying.

In neat capital letters­­—such an Army thing—he had written and glued over the entry:
“I TOLD YOU, IT’S NOT HERE. WHY ARE YOU LOOKING? WE ONLY HAVE ‘SEE YOU LATERS.’ BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, I WILL SEE YOU LATER, HERE OR THERE. ALL MY LOVE, SIS. RANGERS LEAD THE WAY.”

“This,” I said, “is true big brother love.”

“He never would have thought to do it if not for you. I…thank you for giving him the idea. I will cherish this for the rest of my life.”

I hugged her, and she cried on my shoulder. I’m not a heavy make-up kind of girl, but what little mascara I had on was running all over the place.

When we pulled back, I gripped her shoulders. “When can you come back? I’ll show you what my brother did for me.”

“You don’t have to share it. I know it must be special to you.”

“I…want to. Really. Please?”

“I’ll be here Friday.”

“Meet me here at 3:00, okay?”

“I’ll be here.”

***

She met me there on the pier on Friday, and I handed her a to-go cup of lemonade. I pulled out the book that I had kept beside my Bible ever since I had gotten it. I gave it to her and waited.

She turned to that page. Like her brother, mine had covered the entry.

“GOODBYES AREN'T FOR US. WE DON’T NEED THEM. BECAUSE NOTHING WILL EVER TAKE AWAY OUR HOME IN ETERNITY. CHRISSY, GOODBYE ISNT IN THE DICTIONARY OF THE CHRISTIAN FAMILY. ALL MY LOVE UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, SEE YOU LATER.”

Big brother love.

***

Randy deployed the three weeks later. I was there with his family at Becca’s request. I gave them space, letting them say their ‘see you laters.’ He shook my hand before he headed for the plane. “See you later, Miss Christina.”

“See you later, Ranger.”

***

Becca came to see me every week. We’d drink Lemonade and talk about our brothers, and I was able to heal a little on the inside, sharing about how amazing Stanley was. And I learned what happened to her other brother, the one they almost lost. He had been a prisoner of war at the beginning of the war in Iraq. Celebrated his eighteenth birthday sick from an infected Camel bite. And Randy had been able to bring him home.

She brought letters that Randy had written home, sharing portions and allowing me to lose myself in the Army life I missed so much, all the acronyms and little jokes that are only funny to Army people. I brought some of Stanley’s letters, and we both laughed too hard at the pranks he played with his two buddies, Boots and Pickles. He never did tell me their real names, and I never got to meet them. They came to the funeral, but we were all too much of a wreck to talk. I can’t even remember what they looked like.
We cried over the honesty of our brothers. Both shared that at times, they were scared and didn’t really want to admit it to any of the guys. But then they apologized for telling us. Neither of us had minded.

Stanley wrote home, a few weeks before he died, “I’ve always respected Boots, but today, he made me respect him more. Risked his life to bring back Jerkface, the guy I told you about that pesters the snot out of everyone, especially Boots. Jerkface got hurt up really bad, and Boots nearly got himself killed going after him. J got EVACed, and Boots is going tomorrow. I’m sitting with him, watching him sleep, and…he just looks like a kid… I can easily see him as the kind that would call for his mom, then feel bad for wishing her there to see him like this. But I wish she was here. He’s too protective of us to realize it, but he needs somebody looking after him too. Big puppy if you ask me. Hey, if you ever decide soldiers aren’t that bad…😉 seriously, though, he’s a great guy.”

I rolled my eyes. “He was always trying to find me a husband. He so wanted me to marry one of his guys.”

Becca smiled and squeezed my hand. “Obviously, that’s up to God, but Boots doesn’t sound like a bad guy…I mean, he’s the one who asked if the others would like to do Bible study together, right?”

“Yes, that’s him. Who knows. I hope God does give him a good one. He sounds like he needs a protective wife.”

“Well, God will get her for him.”

We finished our lemonade and chatted a little longer, then I hurried back to work. I was trying to concentrate, but all I could think about was Memorial Day coming up. Me and my younger brother Hudson were supposed to go to the parade this year and drive Stanley’s truck…that was gonna be hard.

Uncle Abel smiled as I refilled the lemonade tank. “We’ll be closing up a little early this evening. So, we’ll see you bright and early Monday?”

I turned to him in surprise. Why it shocked me that he would have the café open on a holiday, I don’t know…but to expect me to be there? To miss Stanley’s parade? “I…I can’t come.”

He frowned. “We have inventory. Everyone will have to be here for us to finish on time.”

“Then let me do my part this evening. Please, I have to have Monday off!”

Uncle Abel frowned. “Is this about that parade?”

I swallowed back a look of defiance. “Yes. I’m going for Stanley.”

I could have kept it together. I could have breathed through it.

But he rolled his eyes and frowned.

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!

Life ||

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?

No.

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!
 
Liberty ||

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.
 
Literature ||

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!

Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

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!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

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!

“…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?”

“Percy… mhmn…”

“He’s asleep again. I guess hearing us talk leaked into his sleep.”

“Probably.”

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!”

“James—”

“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.”

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Merry Christmas Eve!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22