If this were any other Sunday Frederick would have slipped in the pew after Micheal and waited for the organ to begin the gathering hymn. Picking up his hymnal, he would have whispered the words and cringed as Alice's strong soprano claimed his ears. Her voice was as beautiful as it was distracting. . . very.

Then he would sit down for Pastor Richards' sermon. Depending on the topic the old man covered that day, Frederick would either be hooked on every word Richards uttered or mentally writing a list of the most important things he would have to do once they got back to the manor. Then, he would stand to join the closing hymn and be on his way.

Today, however, was not an ordinary Sunday. Today was the day Frederick re-examined everything he thought he knew about himself. About God. About his life. Not even Alice's voice could take him off track, Frederick tuned it out, He tuned it all out. Alice, the organ, and all the rest of the petitioners. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes and looked not to the past, but inward.

"Jesus," he prayed in his heart, "I'm looking for you. I'm tired and don't want to do this anymore. I thought I had to. I thought I was the only one who could keep them safe. But Alice said that You can. And that You would. I want to believe it. . . I do believe it." Frederick opened his eyes and waiting for some divine answer from above.

Nothing came.

Staring at his knuckles, watching then turn white as he clenched the back of the pew in front of him, Frederick tried again, "I don't know where to go from here. What do I do?" The opening song was coming to a close. "How does this work? Am I just supposed to say 'I surrender' and then everything will get better? What do you want me to do?"

The questions were piling on top of each other. He was losing his patience. Taking another deep breath to calm himself, Frederick lowered himself into his pew, as the hymn had ended. As Micheal began his usual shifting and Mrs. Pench pulled out her fan -it was stifling hot in the church building- Frederick watched Pastor Richards climb up into the pulpit, hoping the sermon would give him a clue since his earlier attempt gave his nothing but white knuckles and a headache.

__________

The sermon was good, yet disappointingly void of all things Frederick had wanted to hear. There was nothing eye-opening or particularly inspiring about it.

Micheal had laughed when Pastor Richards told the story of David, the young shepherd boy, slaying the giant, Goliath. It was interesting, but unfortunately the message of 'no matter how small a person is, if they have faith, they can conquer huge obstacles' was not relevant to Frederick's current situation. He had the faith, he just didn't know what to do with it.

The rest of the service went by equally uneventful. Letting out a defeated sigh, Frederick rose with the rest of the congregation when it was time for the closing hymn. If he couldn't find answers in a church than he was out of ideas. In a haze, He flipped open his hymnal to the page number that the organist called out. The first notes to 'Blest Be The Ties That Bind' started and Frederick quietly sang the words on the pages before him without really hearing them. To busy pondering what he was going to do. He was tired of trying, anxious of the future, but most of all annoyed that God wasn't responding to him. He felt abandoned and alone. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.

It was just like he thought. Frederick had opened up and asked for help, daring to believe that God would actually take his burdens from him, but no, here Frederick was alone and deserted. The only thing that he could do was keep on as he had been. God gave him no choice.

How was that loving?  How was that taking care of things? It wasn't. God had left it all to Frederick to take care of just as Frederick's father had.

Angry and frustrated, Frederick was tempted to slam the book closed and march out of the suffocating church. Appearances be damned, his need for fresh air was growing overwhelming.

"Before our Father's throne, we pour our ardent prayers."

Frederick paused, he looked down at the words he'd just mumbled and reread them. He'd just tried that, bring his prayer to the throne, It hadn't worked. Going back he read the line just before.

"The fellowship of kindred minds . . ."

Fellowship. . . He went back further, tracing the words with his finger.

". . .Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love."

Our. . . Frederick jumped forward to the first line he had truly heard.

"Before our Father, we pour our ardent prayers."

Suddenly the word 'we' had a different meaning.

Frederick shook his head as he tried to gather his thoughts. Fellowship, meaning a community, more than one person. Our, again not just one person but more. We -together- meaning with another person. It's not just one person's prayer but everyone's. Catching up with congregation Frederick's eyes hungrily searched the page. Devouring the lyrics to the slow hymn.

"Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one. Our comforts and our cares."

Our aims are one. . . How could they be one? Frederick hadn't told anybody about his fears, so how could anyone else care?

"We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear."

Again, how could that be when half the people in this community didn't even know his name? But maybe. . . What if that was the point. He hadn't told anyone he was struggling, choosing to look inward for help and not outward. It usually worked, but look where it got him this time. Questioning everything he thought to be true. And maybe the whole congregation didn't have to know. Maybe just one or two other people was all it took. The word 'we' don't' specify a certain number.

But wait, He had talked to someone, Alice. That night he allowed her to see a sliver of what was going on in his crazy, confused, exhausted heart. She responded by questioning him. Making him doubt what he thought he knew. She was the reason he was in this mess. All the annoyance and frustration he had been feeling shifted from God to the woman at the other end of the pew.

He studied her. This was her fault. He was fine before and-

Alice looked at him. Their eyes meet, her smile fell as she caught the glare in his eye and Frederick instantly regretted it. It wasn't her fault. He saw it then, the care in her eyes. She was just trying to help, after all, she didn't know what her words were doing to him. How could she when he ran away, not telling her how he felt about the situation?

Maybe he needed to be questioned. What if Alice was right from the beginning,

"Talking about it might help." He recalled her saying.

And what had he said? "No, it won't."

Frederick cringed. Apparently, he was a fool. Alice was trying to help him learn to open up. She was trying to share his burdens, and what did he do? He ran, like a coward. He had to fix this. Yes, he did allow her to see the part of him that resented his father, but that wasn't enough. He was done handling things alone, suffering in silence. Hardship wasn't meant to be carried alone, that's why God gave a person neighbors.

He could do it. Fredrick would tell her everything. He'd tell about mama and what the house meant to him. He'd tell her about his thoughts, his fears, and maybe even his hopes. Then. . . then he'd have peace.

*// I know this one ends rather abruptly so I'll be sure to get the next chapter up soon. That being said, any thoughts? I know I have to remind myself every day that it's okay to ask people for help. I often feel like I'm the only one who can handle a situation, and I have to remind my self that it's okay, I don't have to have control, God already does. let me know what you think. Happy reading ;) \\*