Free The Sword by Gilbert Morris

however, as Little Flora had come through the first year and a half utterly adored by her father.
    Flora remained silent, watching as Jeb, who was lying flat on his back, set Little Flora down upon his chest. She leaned forward, making little yelps of joy. Grabbing Jeb’s luxurious beard, she tugged at it and yelled, “Paaah! Paaah!”
    “Well, be careful there, little darling. You’re going to pull my beard out, and you would see what an ugly fellow I am. Did you know I grew this beard just to hide my ugly face?” He suddenly reached out and grabbed her and held her high in the air. She chortled with joy, and he lowered her until their noses touched.
    “Jeb, what in the world are you doing? You always have to play on the floor,” Flora demanded, coming to stand over them.
    “I’m just too big. There’s not enough room anywhere else,” Jeb said, lifting Little Flora high again as she squealed.
    “You’re supposed to be rocking her to sleep.”
    “I tried to, but she talked me out of it.” Jeb grinned. His eyes sparkled with merriment, and his red lips, almost hidden beneath his thick mustache, revealed a smile, exposing his excellent teeth. “I miss out on so much time with our little princess here, I have to make up for it.”
    “You’ve been playing with her for over an hour. We have to feed her and put her to bed.”
    Jeb got to his feet reluctantly.
    Flora reached out and took their daughter.
    “I’ll just watch and you feed,” Jeb said. “I think it’ll be better that way.”
    Flora was still nursing Little Flora, so she opened the front of her dress and the baby began to nurse noisily.
    “No sweeter sight on earth than that to me,” Jeb said. “Everyone I know says children take in their mother’s character when they nurse, so she’s going to be sweet and beautiful like you.”
    Flora couldn’t help but smile. “You must want something, Jeb. You never say those sweet things to me unless you want something.”
    “You hurt my feelings, darling.”
    “I couldn’t hurt your feelings with a sledgehammer. What is it you want?”
    Jeb pulled a straight chair close beside her. A thoughtful expression replaced his wide smile. “I’ve been giving a lot of thinking of what I am to the Lord.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I’ve never been a very deep thinker. I’m a lot better at action,” Jeb said, stroking his beard. “But a man has to think about his spiritual life, too, and I’ve been doing a lot of that.”
    Flora felt thrilled, for she had often wondered about the depth of Jeb’s spiritual life. He had an experience with the Lord years ago,but Flora wasn’t certain it was a conversion as she thought of it. She thought of being “converted” as she was. This included repenting of her sins at the preaching of a traveling Methodist evangelist, confessing Jesus and following Him in baptism, and taking the Lord’s Supper. Her life had been tied up with church and such devotions, but Jeb had never seemed pressed to do such service to the Lord.
    Jeb leaned back, teetering on the back legs of his chair, as he often did. He kept his hands on his heavy thighs. He was wearing only trousers and an undershirt, for May had come, bringing hot weather with it. He teetered back and forth. “I’ve been a believer in Jesus for a long time, Flora. You know that. There’s never been a doubt in my mind that He is who He says He is and He came to do what He said He did. But since we’ve been married, I’ve been watching you, and I can’t help but think that I’ve let the Lord down.”
    “And what is it you want to do, Jeb?”
    Stuart spread his arms out in gesture and his eyes opened wide. He had piercing eyes that could see farther than any man in the company, and when he turned them on people, they were riveted, as they were on Flora now. “Why, Flora, I need to do what you’ve done. I need to join a church and start living as a Christian.”
    “I think that would be wonderful,