The Silence of God
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At the turn of the twentieth century, St. Petersburg offers the best of Imperial Russia. The vast country is filled with grand cathedrals, a faithful populace, and many people who love and revere Tsar Nicholas II and the Romanov family. But as Russia becomes further entrenched in the Great War, a revolution begins brewing within her own borders.
For the wealthy Lindlof family, the only Latter-day Saints living in St. Petersburg at the time, the glitz and glamour of the Silver Age soon dissolves into mass rebellion, dividing their family and testing their faith. Life for Agnes Lindlof will never be the same—changed forever by an ideology that forces equality and demands the silence of God.
Agnes's lifelong friend, Natasha Ivanovna Gavrilova, is the daughter of a professor and a firm supporter of Bolshevik ideals; she doesn't believe in God at all. Yet, when the waves of the revolution wash over her family and her friends, Natasha must examine her own heart and decide for herself what to believe and what voice to listen to.
Based on an amazing true story of the only Latter-day Saint family living in St. Petersburg during the Bolshevik Revolution, The Silence of Godis a rare glimpse into a fascinating period of history and a powerful, extraordinary novel of devotion and loyalty.
Johannes hefted a log. “Wasn’t he promised he’d get better?” “No,” Johannes said. “The blessing talked about how much God loved him and the peace of the gospel.” The log was fit into the chute and Arel turned on the power. Alexandria started weeping. Agnes dropped the bag and wrapped her sister in her arms. Agnes knew they all felt the knife pain of sorrow, but for Alexandria it was worse. She and Erland were closest in age and shared a special bond. It was Alexandria who
and Alexandria nodded. “I actually came to the mill today to give you a message.” He waited as they passed by a guard. Just before they reached the large doors of the mill, he spoke. “Agnes, you will find your name on the listing for the post. A certain box has arrived.” Agnes gasped and turned to look at him, but the assistant commandant was already walking away, barking harsh orders at any derelict prisoner. * * * Agnes stood in the assistant commandant’s office. It was late
Nicholas never wanted to be tsar. He wanted to putter around in his garden, sail about on the Standart, and play games with his children. He would have given the honor of being tsar to his mother if the government had allowed it.” Nicholai grunted. “When he ran from all his troubles he gave it over to his brother Mikhail to be tsar.” “Who held the empire for two days,” Sergey scoffed. He downed his glass of vodka and poured another. “The tsar was always far from the people, up there on
that Sergey Antonovich had chosen the front courtyard of the Mariinsky Palace as the place for his speech to the people. The appropriated palace had been the meeting place for the disenfranchised Soviet factions who resisted the pace and intensity with which the Bolsheviks pushed the country toward revolution. But the qualms and consternation of the Cadets, the Menshiviki, and the Left Socialist Revolutionists had been blown aside by the whirlwind of insurrection—the storm of the people’s will.
guard said. “You will have to walk.” He raised his voice. “The rest of you will have to walk.” Agnes found Johannes’s face again, and he nodded his encouragement. Agnes and Alexandria nodded back. The drivers called commands to the horses, and the wagons moved forward, creaking and groaning under the weight of their human cargo. Agnes turned her face forward, took Alexandria’s hand, and walked. In the darkness of the afternoon, she could see the outlines of buildings and church