With Truth and Grace Short Story

This is a short story which I wrote for a contest one year ago.  Because it is a Christmas story (and because it is also one of my favorite writing projects), I wanted to republish it this year.  The narrator's growth through the story is written from first-hand experience, as I went through a very similar process.

With Truth and Grace by Jordan Jachim

“He rules the world with truth and grace,

And makes the nations prove

The glories of his righteousness

And wonders of his love.”

Isaac Watts’s carol Joy to the World had long been a favorite of mine.  But as I stood singing it in church, my mind was disturbed by a paradox.  How could these people be singing that Christ ruled the world with truth when they did not live like it?  Some of the churchgoers voted for ungodly politicians who stole money and persecuted those who followed the Bible.  Others did not interact with God’s children as they rushed out of church at the last “Amen” to watch a sports event.  The few who did remain were not interested in discussing important spiritual matters but only the latest novel they were reading.

But the thoughts passed from my mind as soon as we were dismissed from church on Sunday afternoon.  They only returned on the following Saturday evening while my sister practiced Joy to the World on the piano.  I began thinking once again about the problems I saw in the church.  First I enumerated them in a long list; then I thought about remedies.  But every remedy that entered my head required a strong leader to carry it out.  And who was better fitted to become that leader than me?  In a few months I would graduate from high school and could then move on to leading a church.  Under my leadership, it would flourish, modelling God’s uncompromising truth, and becoming a leading voice for reform in our country.  I went to bed that Saturday night, hopeful of the grand changes I would initiate.

***

I seemed to be ascending into the sky, filled with hopeful and optimistic thoughts.  The higher I climbed, the higher I wanted to climb.  Finally I reached a height where I could look down on the earth.  The orange sunset filled me with a sense of satisfaction as I contemplated the dark world below me.  How high I had come!  While I might not have attained the heights a few had reached, yet I was far above the world of darkness.  Surveying my achievement, I realized with a start that I was not alone.

“It is good to see you.”  The voice came from a woman in white with thick golden hair.  Her eyes were kind but sad as she looked at me.  “I have heard that you are discontented with your church.”

“How can I be content when they do not follow God’s ways?”

“Do you follow God’s ways?”

“I try my best, even if I sometimes fail,” I evaded.  “But the others do not.  If only I could lead them to living in God’s truth!  They need a strong leader.”

“Living in God’s truth is the desire of every true Christian.  But that desire cannot come from another person leading them.  It must come from God.”

Photo Prompt #1

“As a leader, I would be God’s instrument,” I shot back.

She sighed, and I thought it was a sigh of weariness.  “You must follow me, for I will show you something.”

Without warning, she stepped forward.  She fell towards the earth and after a few seconds of indecision, I followed.  We passed the atmosphere, and continuing our course, landed softly at the corner of Washington and Lossberg.

“That’s my church,” I said incredulously.  “Why were you sent to show me that?”

She made no answer, but opened the door and motioned for me to enter.  Attendance was smaller than I remembered and something seemed different.  Perhaps it was that no usher greeted me, or that no one smiled at me as I sat down.  Everyone’s head was down, fixed on their Bibles, and each wore a grave face.  Perhaps they were just being reverent, I mused.

But my thoughts were diverted when the minister opened a side door and walked onto the platform.  I noticed his icy blue eyes, shaded by expressive eyebrows that moved up and down to emphasize his texts.  His face was very somber, at least what was not hidden behind a black mask.  Why did he wear a mask in church?  But I had no time to ponder this since he began his sermon.

His sermon dealt with many of the same evils I had noticed in my church before.  He thundered against money-thieving politicians and unjust laws.  Next, he outlined the lack of spiritual community in his church.  When he finished, the people filed out of the door until I was the only one left.  The masked pastor came up to me and greeted me.

“I am glad that you came to our church.  And you did not run out of the door after my last prayer.”

“I want to have fellowship and be edified by our conversation.”

His face broke into a smile. “I am glad that is the case for you.  You will likely make an excellent addition to our church.  But you need a few lessons from me first.  After all, you voted for Ryan Jenkinson.”

“And why should I not?” I asked in surprise.

“His HB.5067b could strike against religious freedom in this country.”

“That bill—I read it—merely exempts churches from certain regulations pertaining to their tax-exempt status.  There wasn’t a word about more regulation for churches.”

Photo Prompt #2

“Have you read anything besides HB.5067b recently?” he asked quickly.

“I just finished Wolf’s Best Friend.  It’s a novel about a man and a wolf who become friends.”

“Reading fiction is an ungodly and pernicious pastime.  All orthodox church leaders have spoken out against it.”

“I agree that many novels should be used as fuel for bonfires, but this one was written from a Christian perspective.  It was an allegory, filled with the beauty of God’s creation.  Why,” I added, “I’ve even written several short stories to illustrate Christian truths in a—”

“All fiction is expressly designed to help the reader escape into fantasies rather than pursuing God’s kingdom.”

“What about John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress?  That illustrates Christian truths and was written by an orthodox church leader.”

“If you hope to remain a part of this church,” the pastor’s eyebrows lowered, “you must not waste your time in these frivolous activities.”

“This is absurd!  You are free to share your concerns, but you are attempting to claim lordship over my conscience with your rules.  That is reserved for God alone.”

“I am not claiming lordship over your conscience.  You are.”

“No, I am not,” I fired back.  “I claim that for God alone.”

“In attacking me, you have attacked yourself.”

“How?”

Photo Prompt #3

For answer, he untied the black ribbon that fastened his mask and let it drop to the floor.

“Who am I?” he demanded.

My face froze as I contemplated the man sitting across from me.  Now that the mask was removed, there could be no doubt of his identity.

“Yes,” he said, in answer to my baffled look.  “I am you.  I follow your rules; I implement them with your zeal.  The only difference between us is that I have power!  I am in the position of church leader.  This is what you will become!”

I sank my face in my hands as the world seemed to whirl around me.  When I finally raised my face, my guide stood before me.  Of the pastor there was nothing.

“Why was I such a fool?” I groaned.  I was now anxious to make atonement for my misguided zeal and made a promise that I would never hold convictions and tell them to others.

“One cannot compromise truth for peace if one is a believer in the word of God,” she said gently.

“Then how can I share my convictions without becoming like—like what I have seen?”

“What song brought this train of thought originally?”

This was an odd question, but it shifted the current of my thoughts and I replied, “Isaac Watts’s Joy to the World.”

“Yes.  In the fourth verse, it is stated that Christ rules the world with truth and grace.  These are the two virtues you need to interact with others.  Because you believe in Christ and his word, you have truth.  But it must be shared with grace.  That is what Christ did to you before you believed in him.  He blessed you with health, life, the love of your family and friends, while telling you of his free gift of eternal life.  Follow Christ’s pattern.”

“Thank you,” I said with feeling.  “Looking at it now, I see that I needed this lesson.”

“But do not compromise the truth under a guise of ‘grace.’  For that is not grace, but a license to sin.  The apostle Paul writes well of it in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.”

“Thank you again.”

“You needn’t thank me,” she replied.  “I am just a servant of God, as you are.  May God bless you.”

As she turned to go, she looked at me, and said with a smile, “When sharing truth, you might start by telling others of truth and grace.  Look in John chapter 1, verse 17.”

She, the church building, and finally my consciousness, slowly faded into blinding white light…

“It’s Sunday morning!  Time to get up and get ready for church!”  I heard my mother call cheerily.

So it was all a dream, I mused.  But to me, this was unlike any dream I had ever had.  The important truths and the vivid way they had been taught stayed with me.  And I realized that it had been accurate.  I had been too forceful when sharing my convictions with others.  But God in his mercy had taught me this lesson: to share truth seasoned with grace.  That was why Christ had come, so stated the Apostle John.  The law was from Moses, but Jesus had brought truth and grace when he came to earth that first Christmas day.  That Sunday morning I went to church with a new-found love of Christ’s love, determined to share it with others—with truth and grace.

A Tale of Two Authors: A Reflection

Every person sees a different facet of the world. Others see things which I cannot; and conversely, I see things others do not. Working as a vendor with Through All Ages LLC* allows me to see people in a way that customers are not able to.

Now in the merry month of May, Through All Ages was attending the annual Information Network for Christian Homes (abbreviated INCH) Convention. As I am the company president—actually the only employee at Through All Ages—I went to INCH.





When I arrived, I set up my booth and took stock of my neighbors. To my right was the end of an aisle and to my left was a well-known educational book supplier. It was staffed by three friendly ladies who spent most of their off-duty time chatting with each other. They were very friendly to me when we met.

Across the aisle, facing my booth, was an author who will be referred to as Mr. A. Next to him was an association to teach young children about God’s Word. Beyond them was another author, Miss B. Next to Miss B. were some of my friends, selling lotions and soaps. This was as far down the aisle as I could see, although there were other booths.

As the conference began, few people came through the vendor hall. Traffic was sporadic and the rest of my family were attending lectures. This left me plenty of time to think, to observe, and to read. Unfortunately, the book I had brought was busy supporting a display of products. Bother.

Now INCH is a two-day conference, and I arrived bright and early for the second day. Because I was a vendor, I could enter the vendor hall earlier than the shoppers. I scrutinized my booth, making certain it displayed my products in a visually appealing way. When I was satisfied, I sat down and waited for customers when the doors opened at 9:00 AM. With no customers inside, the vendor hall was quiet and any sound would carry a long way.

While I waited, Mr. A’s daughters entered the hall. He began barking at them because they had not arrived earlier. One of his daughters offered that her mother was overworked and unable to arrive sooner. After hearing this, Mr. A growled that if his messages had been followed, everything would have worked out smoothly.

In a few minutes, the vendor hall opened and everyone looked out eagerly for customers. No one was shopping for my paper soldiers, and as I glanced down the hall, I saw Mr. A asking a passerby if she had anyone interested in novels. He was smiling as though he was good-nature itself, and looked polite as she answered in the negative. I was repulsed—no, to be more accurate, I was sickened. Here was a man whom I had seen angrily barking at his daughters fifteen minutes earlier, now looking pleasant and gentlemanly to the customers. He was a man with two faces: one for his family and one for his customers. Yet I daresay that few of his customers ever suspected he had been berating his daughters not a quarter-hour earlier.

Now there was another author I watched: Miss B. She had no family at her booth; yet whenever I saw her in a lull between customers, she had a pleasant and amiable face. I talked with her and she seemed a kind lady. What a contrast between these two authors!

I came away from INCH thinking about what I had seen. How often are we kinder to strangers, whom we have not seen before, than to our families, who love us? I am not speaking from an ivory tower; I too am a fellow-struggler in this area. Hopefully this tale of two authors will cause us all to be kinder--both to our families and strangers.

“If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.”—1 John 4:20-21


*More information about Through All Ages LLC can be found at www.ThroughAllAges.com

The Trial of Edward Braddock part 2

Part Second: Braddock's Character Defended, by Captain Robert Orme and George Anne Bellamy

An outcry broke in the court as the prosecutor finished.  Some applauded him, while others voiced their opposition.  A man in a red coat and blue cuffs leapt from his seat before being admonished to sit down.  “Every one’s evidence in turn, sir,” said the bailiff.

“Having heard the charge from the prosecution, we will now hear the evidence of the defendant’s character.  Captain Robert Orme, will you present your evidence?” asked the judge.



A portrait of Captain Robert Orme

“Certainly, my lords,” said the gentleman who had risen before.  Eagerly, he took the witness stand and, waiting for perfect silence and attention, began.

“My name is Robert Orme, and I am a lieutenant in the Coldstream Guards. (1)  I was an aide-de-camp to General Braddock, and served him during his appointment as Major-General.  I was with him from England to his untimely demise in battle against the perfidious French.”

“You were in close contact with the General then and can give us an estimation of his character?”

“Yes, my lords.  ‘I judge it a Duty to vindicate the Memory of a Man whom I greatly and deservedly esteemed…it is very hard [that] the bluntness and openness of a Man’s Temper should be called Brutality and that he who would hear Opinions more freely than any man should be accused of Obstinacy and Peremptoriness.’” (2)

Captain Orme sat down and the judge called on the next witness.

 

“The next witness is George Anne Bellamy, the famous actress.  Mistress Bellamy, will you present your evidence?”

“I was known to the general from my infancy.  (3) He became as a second father to me and before he departed to take command in the colonies, he left his will and silver plate with me.  ‘This great man having been often reproached with brutality, I am induced to recite the following little accident, which evidently shews the contrary.

"As we were walking in the Park one day, we heard a poor fellow was to be chastised; when I requested the General to beg off the offender.  Upon his application to the general officer, whose name was Drury, he asked Braddock, ‘How long since he had divested himself of brutality, and of the insolence of his manners?’  To which the other replied, ‘You never knew me insolent to my inferiors.  It is only to such rude men as yourself, that I behave with the spirit which I think they deserve.’" (4)

 

1. The Foot Guards ranks were one higher than in the regular army; thus a lieutenant of the Guards would rank as a captain in the rest of the Army.  This was common practice among European household troops and explains why Orme is sometimes referred to as Lieutenant (his Guards rank), and sometimes as Captain (his effective rank on Braddock’s expedition).
2. Letter of Captain Robert Orme, found on page xx. Braddock’s Defeat, edited by Charles Hamilton.
3. pg. 177, An Apology for the Life of George Anne Bellamy.  Read it at: https://archive.org/stream/apologyforlifeof12bell#page/176/mode/2up
4. pg. 29, An Apology for the Life of George Anne Bellamy.  Read it at: http://archive.org/stream/apologyforlifeof35bell#page/n39/mode/2up/search/braddock

The Trial of Edward Braddock part 1

Part First: The Charges Brought, by the movie Alone Yet Not Alone

 

It came to pass one day that I read a book telling the story of the French and Indian War.  As I read, I contemplated the characters who acted in it: George Washington, Sieur de Jumonville, the Half-King, and General Edward Braddock.  Braddock especially intrigued me.  Here was a man courageous in battle yet defeated and killed by Native American Indians and French Canadians.  Did Braddock’s defeat stem from the fact that he had no Indians on his side?  Was Braddock merely unfortunate, or did he deliberately drive his natives away, atoning for his mistake with his death?

 

I heard a slight noise as a gentleman in a red coat with gold lace sat down near me.  Looking up, I realized that I was in a courtroom, which was rapidly filling up.  Oddly enough, I sat in a chair in the middle of the court while benches in the two halves of the court contained the rest of the crowd.  On one side I noticed an Indian chieftain seated next to a pioneer settler; on the other, a female actress and a soldier in a red coat.  It was clear that every one was deeply interested in the case.  The audience was, probably wisely, separated into pro and con, defendants and prosecutors.

 

“Oyez!  Oyez!  Oyez!” shouted the bailiff.  “This honorable court will now come to order to consider the case of Edward Braddock.  In brief, the charges are as follows: Edward Braddock, major-general in the British Army under George II, conducted himself in the 13 colonies with arrogance, and treated with reckless contempt his Indian allies.  This neglect and dereliction of duty caused his defeat and death at the Battle of the Monongahela on July 9, 1755.  The prosecutor will now present his evidence.”

 

Edward Braddock, from the movie Alone Yet Not Alone

The prosecutor stepped forward and began to read as follows:

 

Colonel George Washington: “The chiefs of all six tribes request an audience with Your Excellency.”

General Edward Braddock: “Colonel Washington, can’t you see I have no time for savages?”

Washington: “Sir, the chiefs bring with them over 400 warriors.  They will prove invaluable as we near Fort Duquense.”

Braddock: “Invaluable?  Are you suggesting His Majesty’s finest regiments require the assistance of untrained, illiterate savages to win in this battle?”

Washington: “They are masters of stealth and ambush.  We can employ them to protect our flanks.  Your troops cannot shoot an enemy they cannot see.”

Braddock: “Washington, you weary me.  Very well.  Give me a moment and then show them in.”

Washington: “General Braddock, may I present the great Delaware chief, Shingas.

Chief Shingas of the Delaware: “General, my people have lived, hunted on these lands from the beginning of time.  Now we willingly share these lands with the English.  We join you in driving French from these lands.  We ask only once the French are gone, that you grant us lands for hunting to feed our children.”

Braddock: “Never!  Only the British shall inherit this land.”

Shingas: “General, we willingly take up the tomahawk against the French.  We defend your cause with our lives.”

Braddock: “His Majesty’s troops do not need you to win this battle.  No savage shall ever inherit this land.  Is that clear?  Now, begone.” (1)

 

1. This transcript is from the movie Alone Yet Not Alone.  For more about this movie, see www.aloneyetnotalone.com

Behind the Scenes of With Truth and Grace

This is an interview that I did with Amara of Castles in Clouds (castlesinclouds.wordpress.com). It shows some of the "behind-the-scenes" behind my short story With Truth and Grace.

Amara, of Castles in Clouds: Hi Jordan, it’s great to have you here.

Jordan, of Defending the Legacy:  Hi Amara.  I’m glad to be here on your new blog!

Amara: You entered a story for a contest.  How did you hear about the contest?

Jordan: A book-loving friend of mine named Schuyler M. announced it on her blog at www.ladybibliophile.blogspot.com/2015/11/announcing-sea-scribblers-2015-short.html.  At that time, I had not written a short story for five years, but this gave me a push to get started.

Amara: What gave you the idea for your story?

Jordan: The story was supposed have a Christmas/winter theme and needed to include at least one of the picture prompts that were provided.  The first picture I saw showed a mask, and I debated if I should write a story of the 1775 American invasion of Quebec.  Then I saw the picture of a figure falling from the sunset to a city below.  This picture gave me a challenge because of its surreal nature (because I write mostly historical nonfiction), but I eventually fashioned the concept of a messenger sent to change the main character’s wrong ideas, much like A Christmas Carol or It’s a Wonderful Life.

As for the main character’s journey, that was written from first-hand experience [laughs].  Once, I believed that with enough power, I could remake the world into a better place.  But just like the character in the story, I came face-to-face with the disaster this type of power could have.  To write this story, all that I needed to do was to take these real-life lessons and turn them into an enjoyable story.

One of the most important plot points in my story is Isaac Watts’s Christmas carol Joy to the World.  I was four years old when I first heard the carol’s 4^th verse, which states that Christ rules the world with truth and grace.  That verse has always been a favorite of mine and I was able to use it to set up both the story’s conflict and its resolution.  Because of the story’s theme and that verse, it seemed appropriate to call it With Truth and Grace.

Amara: How long did it take you to write?

Jordan: I began writing the first draft on November 9 (as soon as I had determined the outline for my story) and finished it a week or two later.  Then it was proofread several times, polished for clarity and finally submitted on December 5.

Amara: Have you written any other short stories previously?

Jordan: I have written quite a number of them.  One of my earliest self-directed writing endeavors (as opposed to writing assignments for homeschool) was a story about space exploration.  This was written in 2002-2003.  In 2007, I entered a short story verbosely named The Great Adventure of a Mouse and Toy Soldiers for our library’s contest.  Next year I entered the contest again with Sir Christopher and the Dragon.  A few more stories intervened before 2010, when I wrote one that I still consider a gem: Lay Down Your Life (which can be read at www.faithful-legacy.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-newsletter-part-3.html).  This was my last short story until 2015, when I wrote With Truth and Grace.

Amara: That’s great.  Do you have plans for any other stories?

Jordan: I certainly do.  One that I hope to write soon is called The Homeschool Spaceship.  This is (very loosely) based off my original 2003 story of space exploration.  I am looking forward to sharing it with you all in the near future.

Amara: Thank you for taking time for this interview, and I look forward to more stories from you!

Short Story--With Truth and Grace

This is a short story I wrote for the SEA Scribblers Short Story Contest.  The rules stipulated that I needed to use one or more of the three photo prompts in my story, and it had to have a Christmas/winter theme.  This is my entry; however, it didn't win any place or an honorable mention. The narrator's growth through the story is written from first-hand experience, as I went through a very similar process.

With Truth and Grace by Jordan Jachim

“He rules the world with truth and grace,

And makes the nations prove

The glories of his righteousness

And wonders of his love.”

Isaac Watts’s carol Joy to the World had long been a favorite of mine.  But as I stood singing it in church, my mind was disturbed by a paradox.  How could these people be singing that Christ ruled the world with truth when they did not live like it?  Some of the churchgoers voted for ungodly politicians who stole money and persecuted those who followed the Bible.  Others did not interact with God’s children as they rushed out of church at the last “Amen” to watch a sports event.  The few who did remain were not interested in discussing important spiritual matters but only the latest novel they were reading.

But the thoughts passed from my mind as soon as we were dismissed from church on Sunday afternoon.  They only returned on the following Saturday evening while my sister practiced Joy to the World on the piano.  I began thinking once again about the problems I saw in the church.  First I enumerated them in a long list; then I thought about remedies.  But every remedy that entered my head required a strong leader to carry it out.  And who was better fitted to become that leader than me?  In a few months I would graduate from high school and could then move on to leading a church.  Under my leadership, it would flourish, modelling God’s uncompromising truth, and becoming a leading voice for reform in our country.  I went to bed that Saturday night, hopeful of the grand changes I would initiate.

***

I seemed to be ascending into the sky, filled with hopeful and optimistic thoughts.  The higher I climbed, the higher I wanted to climb.  Finally I reached a height where I could look down on the earth.  The orange sunset filled me with a sense of satisfaction as I contemplated the dark world below me.  How high I had come!  While I might not have attained the heights a few had reached, yet I was far above the world of darkness.  Surveying my achievement, I realized with a start that I was not alone.

“It is good to see you.”  The voice came from a woman in white with thick golden hair.  Her eyes were kind but sad as she looked at me.  “I have heard that you are discontented with your church.”

“How can I be content when they do not follow God’s ways?”

“Do you follow God’s ways?”

“I try my best, even if I sometimes fail,” I evaded.  “But the others do not.  If only I could lead them to living in God’s truth!  They need a strong leader.”

“Living in God’s truth is the desire of every true Christian.  But that desire cannot come from another person leading them.  It must come from God.”

Photo Prompt #1

“As a leader, I would be God’s instrument,” I shot back.

She sighed, and I thought it was a sigh of weariness.  “You must follow me, for I will show you something.”

Without warning, she stepped forward.  She fell towards the earth and after a few seconds of indecision, I followed.  We passed the atmosphere, and continuing our course, landed softly at the corner of Washington and Lossberg.

“That’s my church,” I said incredulously.  “Why were you sent to show me that?”

She made no answer, but opened the door and motioned for me to enter.  Attendance was smaller than I remembered and something seemed different.  Perhaps it was that no usher greeted me, or that no one smiled at me as I sat down.  Everyone’s head was down, fixed on their Bibles, and each wore a grave face.  Perhaps they were just being reverent, I mused.

But my thoughts were diverted when the minister opened a side door and walked onto the platform.  I noticed his icy blue eyes, shaded by expressive eyebrows that moved up and down to emphasize his texts.  His face was very somber, at least what was not hidden behind a black mask.  Why did he wear a mask in church?  But I had no time to ponder this since he began his sermon.

His sermon dealt with many of the same evils I had noticed in my church before.  He thundered against money-thieving politicians and unjust laws.  Next, he outlined the lack of spiritual community in his church.  When he finished, the people filed out of the door until I was the only one left.  The masked pastor came up to me and greeted me.

“I am glad that you came to our church.  And you did not run out of the door after my last prayer.”

“I want to have fellowship and be edified by our conversation.”

His face broke into a smile. “I am glad that is the case for you.  You will likely make an excellent addition to our church.  But you need a few lessons from me first.  After all, you voted for Ryan Jenkinson.”

“And why should I not?” I asked in surprise.

“His HB.5067b could strike against religious freedom in this country.”

“That bill—I read it—merely exempts churches from certain regulations pertaining to their tax-exempt status.  There wasn’t a word about more regulation for churches.”

Photo Prompt #2

“Have you read anything besides HB.5067b recently?” he asked quickly.

“I just finished Wolf’s Best Friend.  It’s a novel about a man and a wolf who become friends.”

“Reading fiction is an ungodly and pernicious pastime.  All orthodox church leaders have spoken out against it.”

“I agree that many novels should be used as fuel for bonfires, but this one was written from a Christian perspective.  It was an allegory, filled with the beauty of God’s creation.  Why,” I added, “I’ve even written several short stories to illustrate Christian truths in a—”

“All fiction is expressly designed to help the reader escape into fantasies rather than pursuing God’s kingdom.”

“What about John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress?  That illustrates Christian truths and was written by an orthodox church leader.”

“If you hope to remain a part of this church,” the pastor’s eyebrows lowered, “you must not waste your time in these frivolous activities.”

“This is absurd!  You are free to share your concerns, but you are attempting to claim lordship over my conscience with your rules.  That is reserved for God alone.”

“I am not claiming lordship over your conscience.  You are.”

“No, I am not,” I fired back.  “I claim that for God alone.”

“In attacking me, you have attacked yourself.”

“How?”

Photo Prompt #3

For answer, he untied the black ribbon that fastened his mask and let it drop to the floor.

“Who am I?” he demanded.

My face froze as I contemplated the man sitting across from me.  Now that the mask was removed, there could be no doubt of his identity.

“Yes,” he said, in answer to my baffled look.  “I am you.  I follow your rules; I implement them with your zeal.  The only difference between us is that I have power!  I am in the position of church leader.  This is what you will become!”

I sank my face in my hands as the world seemed to whirl around me.  When I finally raised my face, my guide stood before me.  Of the pastor there was nothing.

“Why was I such a fool?” I groaned.  I was now anxious to make atonement for my misguided zeal and made a promise that I would never hold convictions and tell them to others.

“One cannot compromise truth for peace if one is a believer in the word of God,” she said gently.

“Then how can I share my convictions without becoming like—like what I have seen?”

“What song brought this train of thought originally?”

This was an odd question, but it shifted the current of my thoughts and I replied, “Isaac Watts’s Joy to the World.”

“Yes.  In the fourth verse, it is stated that Christ rules the world with truth and grace.  These are the two virtues you need to interact with others.  Because you believe in Christ and his word, you have truth.  But it must be shared with grace.  That is what Christ did to you before you believed in him.  He blessed you with health, life, the love of your family and friends, while telling you of his free gift of eternal life.  Follow Christ’s pattern.”

“Thank you,” I said with feeling.  “Looking at it now, I see that I needed this lesson.”

“But do not compromise the truth under a guise of ‘grace.’  For that is not grace, but a license to sin.  The apostle Paul writes well of it in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.”

“Thank you again.”

“You needn’t thank me,” she replied.  “I am just a servant of God, as you are.  May God bless you.”

As she turned to go, she looked at me, and said with a smile, “When sharing truth, you might start by telling others of truth and grace.  Look in John chapter 1, verse 17.”

She, the church building, and finally my consciousness, slowly faded into blinding white light…

“It’s Sunday morning!  Time to get up and get ready for church!”  I heard my mother call cheerily.

So it was all a dream, I mused.  But to me, this was unlike any dream I had ever had.  The important truths and the vivid way they had been taught stayed with me.  And I realized that it had been accurate.  I had been too forceful when sharing my convictions with others.  But God in his mercy had taught me this lesson: to share truth seasoned with grace.  That was why Christ had come, so stated the Apostle John.  The law was from Moses, but Jesus had brought truth and grace when he came to earth that first Christmas day.  That Sunday morning I went to church with a new-found love of Christ’s love, determined to share it with others—with truth and grace.

21 June 1757: Council of War

At a hamlet called Cuttawa, a column of 3,000 British troops settled in for the night.  Some were newly-recruited English lads, who had joined His Majesty’s army and never expected a posting in India.   Others were veterans of the East India Company’s service.  The majority of the force was native soldiers, or sepoys.  All were settling down for the night.  The lights in camp were extinguished, and the pickets began their weary vigils, ensuring that no enemy could surprise them while they slept.

But one tent still remained illuminated: the tent of British commander Robert Clive, who was holding a council of war.  Twenty European officers had been convened to answer the question: “Whether in our present situation without assistance and on our own bottom it would be prudent to attack the Nabob, or whether we should wait till joined by some Country Power.”

Much was at stake, and either decision was perilous in its own way.  The British had gotten in this situation because they had backed Mir Jafar in his secret bid to become Nabob.  Mir Jafar had suggested that the British should march to Plassey and battle the current Nabob, Siraj-ud-Doula.  The British had done so—but now what?

Clive’s question haunted the air.  To wait would mean the strengthening of the Nabob’s army with seasoned French soldiers.  With them, Siraj-ud-Doula would regain courage and his armies would crush the handful of British soldiers. But to attack the Nabob seemed suicidal, especially if Mir Jafar switched allegiances and joined the fight against them.  Could 3,000 European regulars, sailors, and Indian sepoys face the Nabob’s host of 35,000?  These two unpleasant alternatives now faced the council of war.

Usually in councils of war, the most junior officer would voice his opinion first, going on until finally reaching the highest officer.  Clive, however, broke with custom and gave his opinion first.  He declared that they must wait for Mir Jafar.  Major Kilpatrick (of his Majesty’s 39^th Regiment of Foot) and Major Grant (of the East India Company) concurred.  Major Eyre Coote was of a different way of thinking. He said, “that the common soldiers were at present confident of success; that a stop so near the enemy would naturally quell this ardor, which it would be difficult to restore.”  He went on to say that a small French army would join the Nabob shortly, and when this happened, the Nabob would vigorously attack and cut off the British from their base at Calcutta.  Cut off from supplies, their position would become critical.

Down the ranks the votes went.  When it had finished, 13 officers had voted for waiting, and 7 had voted for attacking.  The vote was cast, and yet somehow Clive was not satisfied.  He exited the tent and, wandering up and down in a nearby mango grove, thought the matter over.  After an hour, he had come to a decision.

Drums beat as soldiers hurriedly formed ranks.  Officers bellowed commands and sergeants shoved and pushed to straighten the formations.  Clive had determined to march to Plassey and attack.  The battle, on 23 June, 1757, was a British victory.  Siraj-ud-Doula was killed soon after, and a grateful Mir Jafar loaded Clive and his men with presents.

“For by wise counsel thou shalt make thy war: and in multitude of counsellors there is safety.”—Proverbs 24:6

John Paul Jones, Fighting Sailor

My first glimpse of this book was on the library's shelf of children's history books.  Shortly after, a friend gave a short book report on it at our homeschool group.  I checked it out for myself and was enthralled by Armstrong Sperry's vivid prose and delightful illustrations.  

Then we moved away from that library and our new library did not possess a copy.  But with the help of the inter-library loan system, I could still check it out.  

Several years passed and I learned that Sterling Publishing was reissuing the Landmark series, and one of their titles was Armstrong Sperry's John Paul Jones.  I quickly bought a copy, only to discover that while the story was the same, the illustrations were not included.  Now I could read it, but I could not see John's uncle telling him of Culloden, or Jones's interview with the Countess of Selkirk.  I placed Sperry's original book on my list of books to acquire "someday".

Several more years passed and I attended the 2015 INCH convention as a vendor.  While there, I walked through the vendor hall and came to one of my favorite kinds of vendor: one who sells used books.  Looking through their overflowing bookshelves, I came across a Landmark book.  This immediately triggered memories of John Paul Jones, Fighting Sailor.  I asked one volunteer, and she pointed me to the booth's owner.   No, they did not have it on their shelves, she told me, but they did have other books in storage.  She quickly dispatched someone to look around in quest of the book, and I waited.  Several minutes later, he returned with an excellently-preserved copy of Armstrong Sperry's original John Paul Jones, Fighting Sailor.  Now it is proudly displayed on my bookshelf alongside my other American Revolution books.  I would highly recommend that you read it.

Vacation at Michilimackinac, or An Incident which Spark'd my Interest in the French & Indian War

In the summer of 2003, our family took a vacation to Michigan's Upper Peninsula. We stopped at a restaurant near Fort Michilimackinac. While waiting for our order, three men entered and sat in a nearby table. They wore blue waistcoats, white shirts and breeches, and one man even wore a gorget (a metal half-moon on his chest). I was captivated, and watched them while waiting for, and later eating, my meal. Even while eating, I kept studying them--especially the one man's gorget. I never said a word to them, but they remain deeply fixed in my memory. They fanned my love for the 1700s and were one of the earliest things that piqued my interest in the French & Indian War. Now I want to repeat that cycle and fuel some one else's interest in history. And I now own a gorget as well ;).

Admiral Valentina's Treasure part 10--Thunder in the Outback