Shannon Farrington

Her Rebel Heart


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she failed to hear what he was actually saying.

       “My sins, Lord… Forgive me for my sins.”

       Though Sam had intended on coming to this meeting to pray for Edward, he could not get past the need to confess his own faults to God. For too long he had simply gone about his life with his plans for the future, Julia, his teaching position, an honest but comfortable life here in Baltimore.

       He had never once considered God may have other things in mind.

       Frederick Douglass’s experiences flooded his thoughts.

       The man in his autobiography had shown owners whipping and cursing their slaves while simultaneously quoting Scripture to them. He also told of plantation owners who bowed their heads each night at supper to thank God for their food only to then turn around and starve the very hands that had farmed it.

       The former slave explained that he loved the Christianity that Christ had preached, the message of love, peace and purity. Yet, in America, Christ’s message had become polluted. Those who called themselves followers yet whipped women and stole babies from their mothers’ arms were corrupt and hypocritical.

      Where am I in all of this? Sam wondered. What form of Christianity do I cling to?

       Sam had never owned another human being. He had never beaten or cursed any man. He attended church each week, read his Bible daily. He prayed faithfully yet he couldn’t help but sense there was more to it.

      Does Jesus expect more from His followers? Does His sacrificial love demand it?

       Sam had always sought to live a life of peace, to show others the love of Christ.

      …As ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me…

       The Savior’s words pricked his heart. One of the least of these… who were the very least? Who did society, the law and government itself claim as the least?

       Sam knew full well the answer to his own question.

       Simply refusing to join those who supported slavery, or at the very least allowed it, was no longer enough. He knew that now. He would attend Dr. Carter’s meeting. He did not know what else may be involved but he sensed the Lord was urging him to find out.

       “I will do Your will, Lord.”

       And following God’s will, Sam realized, meant placing Julia in His hands. Sam could not continue to spend his strength worrying and planning how to win her back.

       He had to focus on being obedient. He had to trust.

       What was happening, Julia could not fully explain. The Reverend and even her own father were now in tears. A shiver ran through her for she could sense the Almighty’s presence in the place.

      Oh, Lord, thank You for hearing our prayers. Thank You for what You will do here in this city.

       After a few moments, eyes opened, heads raised. Reverend Perry concluded the meeting by extending an invitation.

       “I ask you to join me tomorrow and each day thereafter at noon.”

       Her father quickly said they would. When the Reverend looked to Samuel, Julia bristled.

       He explained it was impossible to reach the church at noon but, “I will gladly give what time I can.”

      Wonderful, Julia thought sarcastically. I suppose I will have to get used to him.

       When the service was over her mother and father continued to speak with Reverend Perry. Julia waited a step away, discreetly eyeing Samuel from the safety of her lace trimmed bonnet.

       He approached her slowly.

       “I wanted to offer my apologies,” he said before she could speak first.

       She was taken aback. “For?”

       “For pressing you. For not honoring your wishes.”

       His brown eyes were fixed on hers. Julia couldn’t help but think of the love that had filled them the night he’d asked for her hand, of the ardor with which he had kissed her.

       Heat flooded her face. Her skin was tingling and her mind churning.

       “It was wrong of me to visit the house and to sit in your family pew,” he said. “It will not happen again.”

       She opened her fan, hoping her voice was smooth and calm. “Thank you, Samuel.”

       “You are welcome. Good day, Julia.”

       He turned and walked up the aisle, through the doors and out into the warm May sunshine.

       After he had gone, her parents were ready to depart as well. Julia followed them to the carriage. A chill had now settled over her.

       “Did you bring your sewing basket, dear?” her mother asked. “We can drop by Sally’s on the way home.”

       “Oh,” Julia said absentmindedly. “No. I did not. I completely forgot about the sewing circle.”

       She was still mulling over what Samuel had said. Part of her felt relieved, the other struggled with the finality of it all. Why did she suddenly feel so guilty?

      This is what I wanted. I will not marry a man like him.

       “Well, then,” she heard her mother say. “We will just drive home. You can walk back to Sally’s after you gather your things.”

       “Perhaps I will stay home this week,” Julia said.

       “Why is that?”

       “I don’t feel much like visiting.”

       Every week, she and her neighborhood friends met together for conversation and needlework. The real reason she did not wish to attend today was that the girls were scheduled to begin the lace for her wedding gown. The white dress had already been sewn. All that was needed to complete it was the finishing trim. Julia had not yet told any of them about the broken engagement.

       She dreaded doing so.

       Some of them, like her closest friend Sally Hastings, would understand. Her brother Stephen had left for Virginia the same time Edward did. Sally had even at one time had eyes for Edward. The woman could sympathize with Julia’s pain.

       Prissy, opinionated, Rebekah Van der Geld would not. Rebekah had recently expressed disdain for the growing secessionist movement.

       “It is treason,” she’d said flatly, “and anyone who fights for the Confederacy deserves to be hanged.”

       Julia sighed. She had once considered Rebekah a friend but did not any longer. She wondered how the girl continued to come to their group when she clearly held such an opposing view.

      Why must politics invade every aspect of life? Why can’t we just go on living?

       Her mother spoke. “I talked with Sally briefly yesterday at church. She told me she was hoping you would come today. I think she misses Stephen terribly.”

       Julia’s agitation was replaced with concern for her friend. She knew what Sally was feeling. She wanted to comfort her and perhaps, if they had a moment in private, she could tell her about Samuel. It would help to have a friend’s blessing when her guilt over the broken engagement came calling.

       “Perhaps I will go,” she said to her mother, “but are you sure you want me to?”

       “Life must continue, Julia, despite hardship, despite grief. The best thing we can do for Edward, for all of us, is to pray and then go on living.”

       When Julia arrived at the Hastings home, Sally met her at the front door. She gave her a hug.

       “I am so pleased that you came,” she said. “We must catch up when the others have gone.”

       “Yes,” Julia said. “I would like to.”

       Sally took her hand and