A Quiet Place

The story posted on this web page is not a work of fiction but of inspiration and is presented to the Confederate Legion that each of our members might contemplate the precious cost which our forefathers and foremothers paid in behalf our just and honorable cause.  Those who choose to become legionnaires therefore tread on holy ground which has been paid for with the blood of heroes not unlike the Confederate Soldier described in this article.  We therefore have a solemn duty and a responsibility, not only to their memory and legacy, but to our posterity, that we finish the work which they so nobly began.

Sometimes while pausing for a moment of reflection, the spirit of the living God seems so mighty, it is almost as if I could step across the space between earth and the realms of glory. Allow me my friends, for a moment, to wear the shoes of a Confederate Chaplain. During a period of sixteen years my life, I was a sailor, six years of which was at sea. The particular ship in question was 378 feet in length and to simplify the story, my job was that of ship's senior administrator. Requiring most of my time at sea, on the bridge.

Our ship being of relatively small size, when compared to truly large ships of the navy and commercial fleets of the world, which was often tossed about to and fro during a storm. However in times of calm when the sky was clear, there's no more pleasant or peaceful place. Often on such occasions when off watch, I would go to the stern of the ship and sit with my legs dangling over the side and look out at the endless open sea. The sky so clear it seemed the galaxies of space were all clearly visible; one could almost reach out and touch them.

Some very serious praying got done during these special moments, the moon and stars reflecting from the glassy sea, it was easy to ask "Why Am I here Lord? What is the purpose of my life? Is this all there is?" Just as Job in the Old Testament sought God in the storm, I did as well, and found he was not there. Perhaps he was in the lightening, the thunder and the crashing of mighty waves. But he was not there. But here in the beauty and stillness I would look out at the sea, and then deep into the far reaches of time and space. One could hear every sound seemingly for twenty nautical miles and clear to the edge of the horizon, where the earth dropped out of sight. Seated as I was the ship itself could not be seen, only the rails of the ship which held me in place, the open sea and endlessness of the heavens above.

Then in the stillness I could hear him speak, not with lightening nor with thunder, but with a still small voice. "Have I not made all these things stretched out before you? Have I not shaped the moon and sent it spinning through the galaxies of space? Have I not created the heavens and the earth, formed man of the dust of the ground? Does the clay now question what the potter intended?" No Lord I said, forbid that I should question the handy work of God! Then he said unto me, "If I have created the lowliest among the creatures of the earth for my own purpose; How much more have I you, in whom I have breathed the breathe of life, and made of you a living soul."

Suddenly I was startled by announcement over the ships intercom calling me to the bridge. But for a moment, a very peaceful moment, I came to understand what the Sheppard’s of old felt when heavenly hosts appeared over the fields outside Bethlehem of Judea, singing the praises of God. During that sweat time of peace and tranquility I was among the angles, spoke with the Lord of Hosts, and he answered. Now I have no doubt whatsoever, why I am here. For but a moment and a time in fulfillment of his divine will! My prayer is that I might be found worthy of his good graces. Oh Lord; thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven! Amen and Amen!

God save the Confederacy