The Journal of a Vicar's Wife Read Online Free Page A
Author: Viveka Portman
family.’
‘You are very kind to be thinking of such things,’ he said.
I nodded without saying anything. Though these words came from my tongue, I had no desire to see them come to fruition. No indeed, other plans had set seed in my mind – and they were not kind in the least.
This evening, I retired to my rooms later than usual. I had spent time beside the fire sewing and considering the arrival of Mr Jonathan Reeves. As I walked into my room, I could smell my husband’s scent linger. I frowned and looked about – for he was not there. With a despondent sigh, I changed into my nightdress. As I turned to make for my bed, I saw, lying against the white coverlet, my Bible. It was open to a page, and I noticed slips of paper marking other passages further in.
My readings for the evening, then.
My husband had not retired without designating me Bible studies.
How terribly kind of him.
I bit my lip, willing myself not to be disappointed. I would have very much preferred my husband to be laying abed waiting for me, rather than my Bible. Still, I picked it up. It was heavy in my hands as I slipped into my bed. I knew I could do naught but read those passages, for I had little doubt that in the morning my husband would test my learning.
I read the first poignant passage on grief from Isaiah, then several from Philippians, and three from John. My eyes were growing tired in the flickering candlelight when I turned to one last, neglected bookmark:
Ephesians 4:1-3: I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love …
What the Devil does it mean?
I have read that passage many times and yet I still cannot quite understand its meaning! Is this some secret message of affection from Mr Reeves? I can scarce believe that to be true! In all our years of marriage he has never indicated true affection for me. Perhaps it is merely some indecipherable passage that I in my ignorance cannot interpret correctly?
Perhaps, or perhaps not.
Oh! And if it were some declaration of affection, it would certainly make my connection with Mr Goddard even more sinful!
I want to ask him. Yet I must not. This day has been a long one, and my eyes are growing weary. Perhaps in the morning it will seem clearer.
Tuesday, 4 th May 1813
I found this morning that Frederick had departed for his vicarly duties before I had risen. This is not an uncommon occurrence, though perhaps I slept later today than is my usual habit, mainly due to my wakeful night of reflection. Minny had left a cup of tea beside my bed. I stared at it, the steam still rising in weak wafts. Beside the teacup was the Bible, still open at the confusing passage Frederick had marked for my consideration.
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love…
I sat up and partook of my tea, musing on the words. Perhaps Frederick considers himself a prisoner for the Lord? Was he in some peculiar way explaining his religious fervour? I was uncertain – and what could it mean, ‘bearing with one another in love?’ Was this the first confession of love I had received from my husband? Or was there some other meaning that escaped me?
I wish to ask him at some later time what he meant by this quotation, though I am unlikely to do so. For I know, if I were to question the words of the Holy Book, whatever discussion we may have been having would be reconstructed into a tiresome and regretful sermon about my ignorance.
At length, Minny assisted me to dress. I slipped my Bible into my reticule and descended to break my fast. Naturally, I was devilishly hungry from my late night, and ate everything. Without the watchful eye of my husband, I feared not being a glutton. I then spent some
‘You are very kind to be thinking of such things,’ he said.
I nodded without saying anything. Though these words came from my tongue, I had no desire to see them come to fruition. No indeed, other plans had set seed in my mind – and they were not kind in the least.
This evening, I retired to my rooms later than usual. I had spent time beside the fire sewing and considering the arrival of Mr Jonathan Reeves. As I walked into my room, I could smell my husband’s scent linger. I frowned and looked about – for he was not there. With a despondent sigh, I changed into my nightdress. As I turned to make for my bed, I saw, lying against the white coverlet, my Bible. It was open to a page, and I noticed slips of paper marking other passages further in.
My readings for the evening, then.
My husband had not retired without designating me Bible studies.
How terribly kind of him.
I bit my lip, willing myself not to be disappointed. I would have very much preferred my husband to be laying abed waiting for me, rather than my Bible. Still, I picked it up. It was heavy in my hands as I slipped into my bed. I knew I could do naught but read those passages, for I had little doubt that in the morning my husband would test my learning.
I read the first poignant passage on grief from Isaiah, then several from Philippians, and three from John. My eyes were growing tired in the flickering candlelight when I turned to one last, neglected bookmark:
Ephesians 4:1-3: I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love …
What the Devil does it mean?
I have read that passage many times and yet I still cannot quite understand its meaning! Is this some secret message of affection from Mr Reeves? I can scarce believe that to be true! In all our years of marriage he has never indicated true affection for me. Perhaps it is merely some indecipherable passage that I in my ignorance cannot interpret correctly?
Perhaps, or perhaps not.
Oh! And if it were some declaration of affection, it would certainly make my connection with Mr Goddard even more sinful!
I want to ask him. Yet I must not. This day has been a long one, and my eyes are growing weary. Perhaps in the morning it will seem clearer.
Tuesday, 4 th May 1813
I found this morning that Frederick had departed for his vicarly duties before I had risen. This is not an uncommon occurrence, though perhaps I slept later today than is my usual habit, mainly due to my wakeful night of reflection. Minny had left a cup of tea beside my bed. I stared at it, the steam still rising in weak wafts. Beside the teacup was the Bible, still open at the confusing passage Frederick had marked for my consideration.
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love…
I sat up and partook of my tea, musing on the words. Perhaps Frederick considers himself a prisoner for the Lord? Was he in some peculiar way explaining his religious fervour? I was uncertain – and what could it mean, ‘bearing with one another in love?’ Was this the first confession of love I had received from my husband? Or was there some other meaning that escaped me?
I wish to ask him at some later time what he meant by this quotation, though I am unlikely to do so. For I know, if I were to question the words of the Holy Book, whatever discussion we may have been having would be reconstructed into a tiresome and regretful sermon about my ignorance.
At length, Minny assisted me to dress. I slipped my Bible into my reticule and descended to break my fast. Naturally, I was devilishly hungry from my late night, and ate everything. Without the watchful eye of my husband, I feared not being a glutton. I then spent some
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