Fire by Night
A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “I wouldn’t be nursing for ‘the war effort.’ On the night that my first patient died, I felt God’s blessing on my work. I felt Him say that what I did ‘for the least of these’ I was doing for Him.”
“And Jesus also said that even a cup of cold water given in His name is enough. He is just as pleased with the charity work you do here.”
“There’s an army hospital here in Philadelphia,” she said hopefully. “I could volunteer—”
“No. Our engagement will be announced soon. It’s out of the question for you to spend so much time in the company of so many men. Especially here in Philadelphia, where you would be seen by people we know.”
“But you said you admired me for being a nurse, for being caring and compassionate. If that’s what you loved about me, why are you forbidding me to be those very things?”
“Because my parishioners have clear expectations about their minister’s wife. You’ve attended this church your entire life, Julia. You move in the same social circles as these men and women. And you know very well that they don’t approve of your work as a nurse. I want to return here after the war, to this church, and it’s very important that my congregation accepts you. Besides, there are ways for you to be the compassionate, caring woman I admire and still remain within the boundaries of your role as my wife.”
“The people at church don’t understand what nurses do—”
“I know, and we’re not going to change their minds. There are other duties for women that have long been accepted by our society. They involve the home and the family, respectable charities, helping the poor, the work you’ve done for the Commission. You can serve God by doing those things.”
She gazed down at her hand, still in his, and at the new ring he’d just placed on her finger. When she didn’t reply, he lifted her chin to make her look at him.
“I’m sorry there are so many restrictions. A minister’s life is lived under constant scrutiny. I must be above reproach, without even a glimmer of impropriety in anything I do or say. You’re not only giving up a large measure of your wealth but also a large measure of your privacy if you marry me. And I’m asking you to wait three more years, besides. I won’t blame you if you change your mind about marrying me, Julia. I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll understand. Do you still want to accept my proposal?”
“I haven’t changed my mind. I still want to marry you.” But she also knew from what he’d just said about living under scrutiny and being above reproach that she would have to wait three more years before he held her or kissed her the way she longed for him to do. He was more virtuous and self-disciplined than she was, willing to “separate the sparks from the gunpowder.” That knowledge only made her feel guiltier for what she still felt for James.
Nathaniel smiled. She saw relief and love in his eyes. “I’m so blessed to have a wife who wants to serve God,” he said. “We’ll have the rest of our lives to minister together once this war is over. I promise.”
Philadelphia
January 1864
It was cold inside the church, colder still outside in the snowcovered city. The gray, drab day matched the raw, desolate feeling in Julia’s heart as she sat in the Hoffman family pew between her parents. The organ droned the processional, and the senior pastor entered with Nathaniel and the young ministerial candidate who would replace him. Nathaniel wore his new army uniform, decorated with the chaplain’s insignia, instead of his clerical robes. This morning he would preach his last sermon before entering the military. He was leaving early tomorrow morning.
Throughout the first part of the service, Julia’s mind felt as numb as her cold hands and feet. If she prayed night and day for the next three years, would it be enough to protect Nathaniel from the danger he was about to face? She thought of the thousands of soldiers she had tended, of the thousands of loved ones they’d left behind, and for the first time she understood the anxiety those families felt. She fingered her wadded handkerchief and tried to remember all the assurances Nathaniel had given her over the past few weeks. “The safest place to be,” he’d told her, “is in the will of God.”
When the time came for Nathaniel to step up to the pulpit she felt a thrill of excitement—the pride of ownership. She’d been drawn to this dynamic man ever since she’d first heard him preach more than five years ago. Now he was going to be her husband. Her parents had hosted an official engagement party with more than one hundred guests. Julia had met Nathaniel’s mother and his father, who was also a preacher. They’d seemed dour, humorless, and plain—and Julia wondered if it was the result of living their lives in the ministry under constant observation.
Nathaniel’s announcement to the church congregation of their marriage had also been well received. Julia’s mother had been all aflutter ever since, eager to begin planning the wedding, Julia’s trousseau, her bridal reception. Julia had little enthusiasm for an event three long years in the future. The past few months since she’d returned from Gettysburg had flown by too swiftly. Between Nathaniel’s church duties and his Commission work, he had barely had time to see Julia.
Now the congregation fell silent as he climbed into the pulpit for the last time. He was well-known for his blunt, impassioned preaching, and they expected nothing less on this final morning.
“For nearly three years now,” he began, “our nation has been embroiled in a savage war that seems unending. It’s hard for us to comprehend the vast destruction that has left cities and communities in flaming ruins, or the horror of so many thousands of young lives lost. The architect of all this hatred and devastation has left his unmistakable signature on his work. It has been Satan’s goal since the beginning of time to destroy God’s world, to bring about the death of His crowning creation, mankind—which was made in His image, instilled with the breath of His life. We see evil in our world and we ask, ‘Why doesn’t God do something? Where is the kingdom Christ promised?’
“This past summer the war was brought to our own soil. Young men from this congregation have been wounded, others have been imprisoned, still others have perished. It’s easy to have faith when the battles are fought far away, easy to go about our daily lives when the people we love are safe. But when the war affects us, when it hits home, it shows us what we are made of and reveals the truth about our faith. We can retreat to a place of fear and isolation, justifying our hatred toward our enemies. Or we can pray Christ’s great prayer, ‘Thy kingdom come,’ and then answer His call, knowing that the kingdom of God is within you.
“The believer should not despair in times of war, when hatred and death and destruction are unleashed. Nor should we ask, ‘Where is God in all of this?’ God is in us, His body. Satan is hard at work, and it’s time for Christ’s body to get to work, as well. Jesus asks us to take up our cross and follow Him, to display His kingdom to the world through individual acts of sacrifice and love. Ours is a God of history. He has placed us in this time and place for a reason. We should ask, ‘What would He have me do for Him now, in this hour?’ Then go forward in His strength and do it.
“This is not a war between two differing peoples but a war against evil and injustice. God desires to fight against those forces through us, through our daily acts of love and sacrifice. The sorrow and suffering we face is meant to change us so that our lives reflect His love. That’s how we tell the Gospel story over and over again. We show it afresh through the way we live and love. And it’s in these daily sacrifices, as we overcome hatred and injustice, that our lives will find meaning and purpose. We live or die not for ourselves but for His kingdom.
“How would God have us live in the times He has appointed for us? The Israelites followed the pillar of fire by night, when it was so dark they couldn’t see. Jesus said, ‘I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.’ Our nation has been plunged into the darkness of war and hatred. But if we follow Christ’s exa
mple of love and sacrifice, we’ll know we are walking in His light. And God’s kingdom will triumph— not Satan’s—if we, His body, follow where Christ leads.
“I leave you with these words from the book of Romans: ‘I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.’ Amen.”
A long moment of silence echoed through the church when Nathaniel finished. Julia sat in her pew in stunned silence, as well. She had all but forgotten that it was Nathaniel speaking. It seemed that God himself had spoken to her heart, calling her to serve in His name. It was true that she had become a nurse for selfish reasons, but God had transformed her through all that she’d experienced into an instrument He could use. Now her heart longed to answer His call.
As Nathaniel took his seat and the worship service continued, Julia became aware of him once again. And she wondered how he could preach those words with such passion and conviction, how he could call his congregation to sacrifice in Christ’s name, and then tell her to stay home where it was safe. Was this congregation’s opinion of her really more important than what God was calling her to do?
She stood for the closing hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” feeling confused and disillusioned. The words she sang seemed to confirm what Nathaniel had preached from the pulpit, not what he said to her in private: “…For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe; his craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate, on earth is not his equal.” Satan was the enemy, not her fellow countrymen. This war wasn’t against the Southern states but against the hatred and lies that had turned brother against brother.
“…Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing. … ” Julia thought of how Sister Irene had urged her to pray for strength to work in His name. And God had answered her prayer, enabling her to do what would have been impossible on her own. “…Let goods and kindred go …His kingdom is forever.” How could she refuse to answer God’s call?
When the service ended, Julia couldn’t even approach Nathaniel through the throng of well-wishers. But he came to her house later that afternoon to say good-bye.
“I don’t want to prolong this,” he said when they were finally alone in the parlor. “It’s too hard on both of us. I’ll write to you as soon as I know my address, and we can speak our hearts in our letters.”
“Wait …Before you go, Nathaniel, there’s something I must ask you.” She chose her words carefully, unwilling to make him angry or spoil their parting. “In your sermon this morning, I felt as if every word was meant for me. I want to answer God’s call. I want to work for His kingdom.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said, smiling.
“But I feel that my calling is to be a nurse.”
His smile faded. “We’ve discussed this before. I thought the matter was settled.”
“Listen, you know the truth about the work I do as a nurse. You know the enormous need. And you know my motives are pure. Yet you seem to care more about what your congregation thinks than what God is calling me to do. It’s all about appearances. God enabled me to become a nurse in spite of huge obstacles. He’s calling me to do that work now, using your own voice, your own sermon. And I’m willing to go. Why are you standing in my way?”
He looked at her for a long time without answering. Julia could scarcely breathe. “I’m not standing in your way,” he finally said. “The choice is yours, Julia. It always has been. If you choose to marry me, then you must accept your role as my helpmate. The work you are called to do in our marriage will be to help me with my ministry. And that means earning my congregation’s acceptance. But if you feel that God is calling you to be something else—to be a nurse—then perhaps He’s asking you to remain single, like Miss Dix.”
“I wouldn’t have to choose between the two if we were married. It’s perfectly acceptable for married women to work in hospitals. And I could afford to support myself on my army pay.”
“It is not acceptable to me. How can I vow before God to protect and support you one day, then walk away from you and leave you alone in a strange city with no support the next? I take my vows as a husband very seriously.” His eyes searched hers, and she saw the deep sorrow she was causing him. “Do you want to call it off, Julia?” he asked.
“No. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said for the first time. “I pray that you’ll have peace in your heart concerning what your role will be.” In the silence that fell between them, the clock in the front hallway suddenly struck the hour. It seemed prophetic to Julia, but she didn’t know how or why.
“I’m sorry to leave you this way,” Nathaniel said, “but it’s late. I need to go. I promise I’ll write.”
The tears she’d been holding back began to fall at his words.
“Please don’t cry,” he said. “It only makes it harder to say goodbye. I’ll be safe in God’s hands.”
Without thinking, Julia threw her arms around him, clinging tightly to him. He seemed startled at first and hesitated for a moment, then his arms encircled her and held her in return.
“Julia …Julia…” he whispered. She heard the emotion in his breaking voice. “As soon as I come home, we’ll be married. I promise.” Then he pulled back and lifted her chin to look into her eyes.
His were moist. He kissed her gently, tenderly, but it was over much too quickly. He wiped her tears. “God speed the day when we’re together again.”
Brandy Station, Virginia
May 1864
Phoebe scanned all the faces of the men who had gathered at the outdoor worship service, searching for Ted’s. More than a year and a half had passed since she’d last seen him. She’d learned that her old regiment had spent the winter down here, but thousands of tents and the ramshackle huts the troops had built were spread out over a wide area, and the odds of finding Ted seemed pretty slim. It was hard to believe that Ted’s three-year enlistment would be up this fall—if he made it through alive and uninjured, that is.
Phoebe had spent the winter working at the hospital in Washington City with Dr. McGrath, going with him sometimes to the shantytown to take care of the former slaves. Now the army had a new commander, General Ulysses S. Grant, and it was clear that he was preparing for battle as soon as the spring weather arrived. The train that had carried Phoebe and the other medical staff south from Washington to Brandy Station had also carried mountains of equipment and supplies for waging war. Thousands of troops and cannons and canvas-topped supply wagons were massing here, waiting to cross the Rapidan River and engage the Confederates who were camped on the other side. Finding Ted wouldn’t be easy, but this Sunday church service seemed like a good place to start.
As the chaplain stood to begin his sermon, Phoebe recognized the handsome preacher immediately. He was the same man who had given her the Bible in Washington City more than two years ago. Ted had coaxed her to go to church with him on that long-ago morning, but she hadn’t heard a word of the sermon. She was only half-listening now as she continued to search the crowd for him.
“As you go forward into battle,” the minister was saying, “you’ve been trained to listen for the sound of the trumpet. You respond to that call, obeying your officers’ commands. But the Bible says that one day the last trumpet will sound and Christ will return for His people. Will you recognize His call? Will you hear it and respond to our Lord’s command? He will return in judgment and with fire, and the apostle Paul writes in Corinthians that ‘the fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.”’
It was a stirring sermon, and the men seemed to receive it with enthusiasm. But when it ended and the crowd melted away again to return to their camps, Phoebe was keenly disappointed that she’d seen no sign of Ted. She was about to leave when the young preacher strode right up to her and tipped his hat.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Reverend Nathaniel Greene. Can I help you with something? You look a bit lost.??
?
“Phoebe Bigelow,” she said. “I’m a nurse over at the field hospital.” She remembered how kind this minister had seemed the last time that they’d met, how he’d given her the Bible and had shown her the story of the little man who’d wanted to see Jesus. She summoned her courage.
“There’s some places I’ve underlined in my Bible,” she said. “Do you think maybe you could explain them to me sometime when you get a—?”
Before she could finish, a soldier pushed his way between them, interrupting. “I need to speak to you, Reverend. It’s important.” He seemed very agitated.
“Can it wait a moment?” the minister asked. “Miss Bigelow was just—”
“Never mind,” Phoebe said quickly. “We can talk another time. I need to get on back to the hospital.”
“Are you a nurse?” the soldier asked, stopping her. “Then you’d better hear this, too.”
“What is this about?” Nathaniel asked. “Tell me your name.”
“It’s Noah Murdock. Make the lady stay, Reverend. She needs to hear this, too.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to speak to me in private?” he asked.
“No, I want everyone to know. The man should be hanged!”
“All right, Murdock. Take a minute to calm down, and then you can tell me what’s troubling you. Would you mind staying, Miss Bigelow?”
“I guess not,” she said, shrugging. But she felt very uncomfortable, unable to imagine what Murdock was babbling about. What did her being a nurse have to do with hanging a man?
“I’ve been feeling poorly lately,” the soldier began, “so I went to see a doctor this morning. Turns out I know the man. His name is McGrath. And he’s a cold-blooded murderer.”
A chill went through Phoebe at his words.
“Hold on,” the minister said. “That’s a very serious accusation. You’d better explain yourself.”