We were on a break doing what employees do on break; criticizing management. Well, criticizing is too harsh a description. Mulling over managements decisions might be more accurate. The boss had extensive real estate holdings world wide that he let local managers operate. He sent representatives from the home office frequently to inspect and encourage. Only no one wanted to be a representative. The job was thankless and frankly, dangerous. The first delegates he sent to one of his prize developments always came back worse for the wear. They were beaten, tortured, maimed, and some arrived back in body bags. Those were the luckiest! Over the years the torture methods increased in severity as the community developed nastier approaches to discourage “spies”, input from abroad. We saw nothing of value in the present location; we all thought the boss should cut his losses and explore other territories. The universe was at his disposal so to speak, he was a pioneer in space travel. He started projects from scratch more than once. The citizens of this far off development didn’t want to be overseen by distant supervision. They wanted representation that lived among them, that knew their situation. That could be bought to cut corners. That could lie convincingly and tell them only what they wanted to hear. Those that boss left in charge were ambitious, greedy, conniving men that could sway the townsfolk and turn a good dollar; for their own pockets.
Boss and Son flipped through a wall calendar and pointed to some date in the future, it looked like years ahead. The son bowed his head in resignation. Boy, we’d have given anything to hear that conversation.Time went on and no new delegates were sent out of the country for sometime though updates on the situation arrived daily. Petitions were received regularly from the minority of residents who actually wanted changes made. We just observed the business from a distance. Hopefully Boss had decided to call it quits. That is the way it seemed to us when he cut back his interest.
The day came when we heard a horrible rumor. It was being said that the son was being sent to the outpost to straighten things out. The worst one! He didn’t seem thrilled about it but he never said no to Daddy. He wasn’t capable of this task. We were wiser than the boss on this matter. The son’s privileged life hadn’t prepared him for the destinations ruggedness. He’d never had anything but comfort and servants for as long as we could remember. He hadn’t just been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’d arrived feet first into a gold mine.
The boss convened a mandatory meeting to inform us of fractions of the upcoming plans. We only worked for him, as in any company we never got the full scoop. We were given orders and shifts to keep and eye out for his son’s welfare but to stay in the background. Anything Son requested or called for was to be doled out, no exceptions. Our only thought was to destroy the sight, wipe out the rebels that assumed they could take over the enterprise, conduct business, and usurp the Boss’ authority. They didn’t like micromanagement but they weren’t handling things well on their own! It was absurd how the men that were hand picked by the boss fell from Boss’s good graces. The benefit package was excellent if they followed orders. They were promised good healthy soil, a land that would yield all sorts of crops. The opposite was true if they disobeyed; famine, drought and insect infestations. Boss was a mastermind at horticulture and agriculture.
The son was to go incognito and inspect things from the sidelines. Living arrangements had been made but were sparse. We silently placed bets he wouldn’t be gone for long, since he knew what he could come home too. He would be deprived of his position here and he’d never had to fend for himself before.
The day came for the start of his assignment. He had two contacts to join up with that would provide him with room and board, easing him into the culture. He was reduced from thousands of servants to just two, beggarly types at that. This wouldn’t last long. We monitored him continuously. Boss sent three care packages in the hands of a caravan who passed by where son and his associates were staying to help him and his two companions, who seemed to have tainted reputations. The woman had almost been executed for some criminal offence but had been given an 11th hour reprieve; the man was scorned for his connection with the woman. People were judged by their actions and associates.
Over time, Son picked up a few friends of all sorts. I use the word friends freely, they were oddities to say the least, no way would they be useful to him in getting inside information and, they would hurt his reputation in the end. We wished he would ask for our advice. You are identified with those you connect with.
The local competitor hunted Son down and tried to coax him over to his side. He made joining up with him sound unbelievable attractive. We were actually surprised Son had the fortitude to withstand the bribes. He and the boss had a fantastic relationship; he really respected his dad and wanted to do the job assigned to him. We began to have some hope. We met up with him to provide encouragment. He had character, you had to say that.
Son stayed in touch with Dad daily. He made no move unless he passed it by dad. We could tell Son was homesick, though. Sometimes he spent hours talking to Dad, late into the night while everyone slept.
His friends proved shockingly loyal and stuck with him to the end. The end being when the CEO’s and shareholders started hearing the buzz that Son was there doing a search and rescue. Searching for loyal followers and rescuing them from the negligence of the wealthy upper class. They heard claims that he was taking over the business again, after all it was his family‘s business. They had trepidations of a huge rebellion and take over. Homeowners were flocking to him, listening to the improvements that could be achieved if they built their houses on solid ground instead of the sand that was being recommended by the unscrupulous usurpers trying to cut overhead. He promised excellent living conditions in housing with warranties that would last for more than a lifetime.
Son spent hours one long night in dialogue with Dad, begging him to let him come home but only if he thought it was the right time. One of Son’s so called friends had informed the contractors and builders where Son could be found. We knew Son had made a bad choice when he picked this person out. Son never saw the bad in anyone but we’ve been around and suspected this person was villainous from the get go.
The CEO’s had tolerated Son’s interference long enough and trumped up charges of embezzlement. Gathering many false witnesses together, they conducted a ridiculous trial and beat Son to death. To death. Slowly and painfully, to death. Alone. This is when his friends deserted him. We all gasped. He could have called on us to yank him out of town, but he suffered the abuse. We were armed and ready. But our orders were to not interfere without his request. He was no rich, spoiled wimp.
Dad locked himself up in a dark room for a long time before he finally came out and sent two of us to collect Son’s body.
We were all sickened. How would the boss handle this? It had been the two of them for eons. They had never been separated. They were so close you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. We fell into a melancholic silence; waiting for Son’s body. It came. It came under its own power. Up through the clouds, down the streets of gold, right to Boss’s office and he sat down, on Boss’s right side. He didn't look so dead to us! Such cheering erupted the ground shook, even on the far away construction site. Tombs opened, more dead walked. People ran. People ran to the Boss. They accepted Son’s contract. The new contract he had been able to engineer in his brief visit. Things were starting to look up for that distant project on a little piece of land called Earth. Maybe we had been wrong. Annihilating the planet seemed extreme… for now.
Immediately after Son was seated sparks started to fly. The air looked like electrical feather scarves were being tossed up and falling randomly. The tongue shaped embers landed on three thousand men and women gathered at the town square in that distant development and strange languages spread the word; the word that there was a renewed administration in town.
Talk in the break room took on a whole new flavor, for a while, after all something new and scandalous will surely surface to give us something to complain about.
Math 4:1-11
math 26:36-44
Math 27:45-46
Math 27:-51-53
Mark 12:1-12
Luke 6; 46-49
Luke 23:3-7
Act 2:1-4
Gal 4:4-5
Phil. 2:5-11
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Feathers
Cuddled up on the couch with Scruffy, my ten pound terrier, and a good book is the best way to spend a stormy afternoon, I thought as I laid cuddled up on the couch with Scruffy, reading a good book while it thundered outside. Scruffy wasn’t so composed. Thunder upsets him. Thunder outside. Thunder on the T.V. Thunder on those nature CD's. Imitation thunder at church plays. Thunder is absolutely not Scruffy's thing.
"Mom, where's my swimsuit?" Cindy asked.
"In the laundry room." I answered, eyes never leaving the intriguing tale of horror on the harmless pages in front of me.
"Thanks."
It wasn't long before the atmosphere I considered relaxing, but Scruffy considered alarming, lulled me to sleep and my book nose-dived to the floor when my arms became spaghetti noodles. Scruffy snuggled closer as a blast of thunder echoed through his head. The back yard door opened and closed and Scruffy started whining and probing me with his cold wet nose. He put it in my face, my ears and back to my face till he aroused me again, though barely. I sleep hard.
"Cindy!" I called. "Scruffy wants out!" Scruffy tensed. The last thing he wanted was out closer to all the noise, but he did want something and I was too drowsy to investigate. Scruffy was getting more agitated by the minute. I swear I felt feathers tickle my nose.
I finally gave up trying to return to my dream and swung my legs to the floor. Slowly something started to jiggle my brain. Somewhere deep a disturbing thought was trying to crawl up into my consciousness.
“Cindy!” I got up in search of my darling ,sometimes, obedient daughter.Scruffy leaped to the floor and raced to the back door making every attempt to get me to pursue him with all sorts of acrobats. He knew something. He knew that I wasn’t going to like the something he knew.
The kitchen windows revealed torrential rain being dispensed from the clouds accompanied by a lightening show worthy of any audience who appreciated God’s beauty and waited for his return on the clouds. The windows also revealed a seal in the pool. A seal with two arms and two legs but with a completely brainless head!
“Cindy, Get in here!” I yelled from the porch with Scruffy between my legs whimpering. “You know better than to swim in a thunderstorm!”“It’s alright mom, I prayed that God wouldn’t let me be hit by lightening.” Cindy responded from the edge of the pool. “Besides, the lightening can’t find me under this tree.” The wonderful rationale of teenagers always missed the mark of reality but had such a fantastic optimism. Trees, water and lightening. A wonderful cocktail for disaster.
Crack, Bang. Splash. Scream. It all happened suddenly. Lightening hit the tree, a branch broke off and plummeted to the pool hitting Cindy on the head. She went under, blood came up, I jumped in, or was I pushed. Scruffy stayed on the porch. Feathers floated on the pool surface.
Thank heavens for survival training. I pulled her to the deck carefully keeping her neck and spine straight,then checked her breathing. Nothing. I gave two quick breaths and felt her carotids for a pulse. Her heart was beating! Scruffy watched from the door, no way he was going to get wet to help me with CPR. I yelled at him to call 911. What the hell was I doing?! Scruffy acted human so often I forgot he couldn’t use the phone! As I breathed for Cindy, Scruffy cocked his head to the side and appeared to be listening to something. Dogs and their selective hearing. I was suppose to breathe for a minute then activate the emergency medical system. There was no way I could leave Cindy! Scruffy turned on his heels (paws) and dashed into the house’s empty interior. Latter on in hindsight it almost seemed like he had been carried inside.
I heard an ambulance screeching somewhere. Oh, God. Someone tell them I’m out here! Please see me back here and send help! Ran washed the tears down my face as I begged Cindy to breathe. Breathe damn it! (sorry, “darn it” seems too inadequate here!) Breathe on your own, Please!
Some one pushed me to the side. A paramedic, followed by his partner pushing a stretcher on wheels. I watched in amazement as unexpected help took over the situation, intubating my daughter ,placing a cervical collar on her neck and hoisting her to the stretcher and into the ambulance. I followed in my car, sopping water all over the cloth upholstery from wet jeans and t-shirt.
At the hospital’s waiting room I called my husband who was out of town as they “worked” on my baby. He was going to catch the first flight home. I hoped he would be in time. The registration lady was asking me to sign papers for permission to treat, blood transfusions and organ donations (if necessary).
People came and went in white lab coats and bright scrub suits with cute-sie designs. How inappropriate for an emergency room. My daughter‘s life was doubtlessly in the hands of someone dressed in Sponge Bob scrubs! This didn‘t inspire confidence!
I hurried to the desk when an orderly called my name.
The “orderly” proceeded to update me on my daughter.“ Ma’am, your daughter is up and talking. I sutured a gash on her head and sent her for some tests to rule out skull, or neck fractures or any lung aspirations. I think we need to keep her over night but based on my initial assessment I think she had the wind knocked out of her and sustained a possible small concussion. She can most likely go home in the morning.” The doctor, aka: orderly, speaking to me had to have taken medical courses in high school! He hadn’t started growing facial hair yet!
How many times a day must this soap opera looking doctor be accosted by grateful mothers, or wives, I wondered as I threw myself into his arms to kiss him gratefully! I blinked, realizing I was fantasizing at the most inappropriate moment and gratefully thanked him: verbally and at a distance. I had to glance down at my left hand to remember I was a married woman….darn it. (damn it!) When things return to normal I’ll try to remember why I married my wonderful husband, who always seemed absent during family crisis’s.
When Cindy returned from her CAT scan, MRI and x-rays I finally got to see her for myself. Now that I knew she was going to live, I was going to kill her!!! I’ll let her recuperate first, I want her to feel the pain! She looked awful, stitched up, pasty faced and groggy. What doctors call up and talking must have a different connotation than the general publics.
“Mom,” Cindy groaned from white sheets that had more color than her complexion right now. “Do you know a Mr. Peepaw?”The question startled me. Peepaw was my gramp’s name, rather what I had called my gramps when I was a little wee bairn. Cindy didn’t know that.
“Why?”
“Because he was on the ambulance with me. He wanted me to remind you of when you went to the pond on his ranch by yourself, against his orders, and nearly drowned after getting caught in some under water vegetation.”
I looked at the paramedics who had brought her in. They looked at each other and shrugged. “She must have been dreaming, there was no one on the ambulance but us. That happens sometimes.” Then they packed their expensive toys up and left. I wasn’t convinced it was a dream.
I stared Cindy down. She wasn’t alert enough to make this story up to save her pretty hide. This was too far-fetched. Peepaw, had died way before Cindy was born. She never met him, never heard this story from any one living, and for sure, not from me,(I keep my mistakes to myself as long as I can!) She must have taken quite an extended trip when her “breath” got knocked out of her! Who said the dead tell no tales? I hope Peepaw had kept his dead mouth shut about the rest of my rebellious days. Cindy is not allowed to know I make mistakes.
“Hey, mom”, Cindy weakly snapped her fingers to retrieve me from my reverie. “Did you see my doctor ? Give me some makeup and comb my hair before he comes back and if you let me start dating now, I can promise you a doctor for a son in law!”
“Only if he’s willing to wait ten years,” I informed her.” That’s how long I intend to ground you.I’ve warned you hundreds of times you could get hit by lightening if you swim in thunderstorms”
“Well, technically I got hit by a tree, so you haven’t quite proved your point yet,” Cindy pouted and slipped into a medicated oblivion. I think she was faking it to avoid confrontation.
I pulled her blanket up around her neck and a feather fell to the floor that I picked up and stuck in her hair.Now that Cindy was thinking of her appearance and men I feared the worst; she’d be back to normal in no time. Oh, the wonderful restorative powers of hormones, they’re wasted on the young!
Stopping at the police station on the way home I asked the 911 operator how she knew to send help. She informed me she’d received a call from my address. That was impossible, I told the dispatcher, there was no one in the house, I was at the pool doing CPR. Kind enough to replay the tape for me she became flabbergasted as we listened to the recording. We heard her advise someone to stay on the phone until help arrived, then she proceeded with routine questions. Pauses followed each question as though someone was responding but all the tape picked up was Scruffy barking in the background. No human voices just lots of static and the resonating sound of thunder.
“How odd.” Declared the dispatcher. A shiver went up my spine. I had told Scruffy to call 911. Naw, he couldn’t have.
At home I inspected the phone and looked intently at Scruffy. “Did you call 911?” No, impossible. I’m going bonkers. Listen to me, talking to a dog. “Well, did you? ‘Fess up!” Scruffy tilted his head to the side and stared at me, then peed on the carpet. I tossed him outside on his fanny. Then I noticed the lone feather on the floor, where did that come from?
Two figures levitating above the house saluted Scruffy who barked zealously as they ascended higher and higher, wings outstretched, tossing heavenly treats into his open mouth. He always looked forward to their continuously timely visits. He would be useless to his owners without the help of his invisible friends. Hey, even dogs can have invisible friends, but theirs are real.
“It’s a shame she won’t remember her visit with Peepaw for long, but he'll sure remember the thrill of meeting his great-granddaughter.”“She’ll be back soon enough. The human brain just can’t hold the glory of our world in their minds. It’s way to magnificent for mortal neurons.”“By the way, that was a good job of deflecting that lightening bolt.”“Thanks, I was just instructed to protect her from lightening, not learning. Now lets get home before we miss dinner.”Zoom. Two streaks of light hit the sound barrier and vanished into the cosmos leaving a trail of glowing feathers floating behind.
Deut 6:16
Psalm 28:6
Psalm 29:3Psalm 30:11
Psalm 40:14psalm 104:4
Psalm 103:21
Jere. 33:3
Saturday, June 2, 2007
the break up
The Break Up
Breaking up was hard to do, we had been together for a long time but I decided I wanted my autonomy. I had been young when we met and I felt I deserved to see more of the world. It wasn’t fair to him that he had been my first love without my knowing what else was in reach. Besides, he was so possessive. Always directing my actions, whispering in my ear whenever he sensed I was going to do something that displeased him. Well, I made my decision now and I had to live with it. I wasn’t going to be wishy-washy, my mind was set.
As I walked out of his house he just stood there with a tear rolling down his cheek. I had no empathy for him, he had never rejected or deliberately hurt me as I was doing to him. I was disappointed that he didn’t rush after me, plead with me, beg me to stay. He must have wanted this himself! What a hypocrite, why did he let this relationship go for so long if he was worn out with it himself? If I meant something to him he should have fought for me! What a wuss!
I breathed the air of autonomy as I walked down his driveway to my car. I knew where I wanted to go first. A bar. He never prevented me from going to one but he always went with me, inhibiting my actions. Everyone else always seemed to be having so much fun, switching partners, meeting new people, getting a buzz from alcohol, while we just had a coke and observed fun in action. I only went for going away parties when someone at work left for other pastures. I‘ve never been drunk so that was my first objective. Real mature goals, huh?
The music was loud, the lights were flashing, beverages were a hundred proof, no one seemed unhappy, (and there were tons of “no ones” everyone in the city had to be in this one building). I couldn’t move without brushing against a body from the front, back or side. Fluid spilled on me from several glasses as I made my way back for seconds and thirds, purposely passing by a gentleman who had been observing me from the moment I entered; yes, I noticed. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of me, and I wanted more than his blue orbs embracing me. He was an extremely handsome dude and he was ogling me! Well, stop looking and start touching!
Oops, I tripped as I neared him on my way back to my table and wouldn’t you know it, I practically fell in his lap! Gosh, I’m such a klutz. Hmmm. As it turned out, my little clumsiness was a great ice breaker, we spent the rest of the evening together. He bought all my drinks and things started getting hazy from then on but I had no doubts about where we would end up.
.I woke up the next morning in his room, I left the bar a girl and woke a woman. I just wish I knew whether I had enjoyed it or not. I spent the day with him, then the night, then the morning again. (I’m not going to tell you to get your mind out of the gutter because whatever you’re thinking happened, happened, let your thoughts go feral!) I was smitten. It was hard for me to believe that it had been so easy to find love again, on my first night of liberty. If this was rebound love I don’t know why it got such a bad reputation.
What followed was a whirl wind courtship. Is that still a popular phrase? We spent time together, invented time to be together, cancelled appointments to be together, gave up friends to be together. He taught me how to drink, and explore the world of drugs safely; what an oxymoron! I was getting the life I didn’t have with Mr. Goodie Two Shoes (GTS). I was seeing the world with a personal guide. I had a man that knew how to treat a woman so that she knew she was a woman.
I missed lots of work to be with Tophet. I gave up my friends because they had been part of my life with GTS and kept imploring me to go back. None of my old friends liked Tophet and didn’t mind voicing their unsolicited opinions. I wouldn’t do it. Slowly I became a hermit with just that special some one only in my life, Tophet.
The weeks melted into months. Months with many changes. My employment changed several times do to repeated absenteeism. Where we lived changed several times, due to failure to meet the rent. My bank account changed due to failure to work steadily. My health changed several times due to….never mind. I got a “disease” that Tophet and I argued about. He skillfully convinced me I must have picked it up off a toilet seat at one of the filthy bars we visited recently. It embarrassed me to seek treatment for it since old acquaintances worked at the public health office, the only medical care I could afford now. They were very kind to me but that didn’t hide the “I told you” sign that hung in the air between us in flashing neon lights.
One morning while Tophet went in search of some nourishment, the kind you inhale, pop or shoot up, I drug myself to the medicine cabinet in search of any small pill or grain of cocaine that we might have over looked. I screeched when I found an intruder in the bathroom hiding behind the sink. She stared at me with sunken eyes, (lusterless sunken eyes), bruised cheeks, (sunken bruised cheeks). Eye shadow was smeared to her hair line, lipstick was smeared to her chin, mascara was smeared to her upper lips, however there was no make up whatever on her eyelids, lips or lashes where you would expect to see such things. Her bare shoulders were battered and scratched and her hair looked like it was combed with an egg beater. I reached to toss her out on her ears but she wouldn’t move. She was standing flat against the wall so I tried again, I couldn’t get a good grip. Good grief she was so flat! Following a few efforts to get my hands on her it hit me; this trespasser was my reflection! My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. My brain stopped. A video lit up the mirror and my choreographed life played in slow motion. It had to have been produced by Stephen King.
I was in no condition to walk so grabbing my car keys I stumbled to my car. I didn’t know where I was going. I just had to get away from that person in the mirror but she pursued me to the car, I could see her in the rearview mirror. My car went into auto pilot and took me down old familiar lanes. I passed people who didn’t wave or honk at me. They should know me but no one recognized me.
I found his house. Should I get out? What nerve I had, expecting him to be home waiting for me after months of making fun of his lifestyle? He wouldn’t want to see me now. I had broken my promise to stay pure for him till my wedding night. I had researched drugs, alcohol, theft, sex and things so carnal even I don’t want to list them.I got out of my car and wobbled to the front door. Lights glowed out of the windows. I gently tapped the knocker. Gently because I didn’t want him to hear me. Then I was afraid he wouldn’t answer so I knocked harder. He must have peeked out the window. Of course he wouldn’t let me in. He warranted someone better than me. I wasn’t good enough for myself, why would he want this broken body, filled with broken promises? He was probably calling the police at this very moment.
Tophet pulled up on the curb; literally. The passenger side hit the streetlight making metal to metal racket. He had his special angry face on! The one that preceded teaching me “a lesson I would remember!” I resumed pounding on the door and crumbled to the cement. This would be mortifying. I was going to get a pounding right under GTS’s nose. He would enjoy this, I‘m sure. The girl that jilted him and her “lover” getting carted off to jail for disturbing the peace.
“Oh, God help me!” I moaned, my lips moving with the words sliding silently out onto the air.
Seconds before Tophet reached me the door swung open and GTS stood there, hands at his side slightly angled out, palms up. Blood dripped from old wounds on his wrist onto my head. Tophet braked to a stop inches from me. There was a staring contest between the two men as I wept in a disintegrated heap. Tophet cursed and raged. He spewed all sorts of epithets at me, I covered my ears with shaking hands. GTS crushed Tophet without even raising a arm or uttering a word. Tophet retreated, a hissing looser. I grabbed GTS’s feet to prevent him from leaving me outside. He stooped down and gently hoisting me to my feet steered me into the living area. They were all there. All my friends. My true friends. On their knees. Heads bent. Praying. For me. Behind them stood radiant wispy figures only I could see, applauding. It must have been the residual effect of some drug, at least it was pleasant unlike the nightmarish apparitions I’d caught sight of in the past few weeks.
In nano seconds, I was surrounded. Caressed by loving hands, (in decent places!). Cleaned. Fed. Dressed. My wounds were treated, and covered. I was welcomed back. Similar stories were shared. I wasn’t alone. I never was. To my astonishment they all had comparable tales they were ashamed of. What bombshells they dropped on me! Hard to believe? Believe it. My story isn’t unique. It’s not hopeless. GTS wasn’t ashamed of me. He was willing, ready and able to take me back. He would never mention the past few months to me again. With his wonderfully selective memory he chose to only remember that I called out to him, you see…..GTS, goodie two shoes, is really GTS, the God That Saves. I was back home, in his house.……….Oh, P.S I latter learned that the door had never been locked behind me, all I had had to do was turn the knob, GTS was on the other side just patiently waiting.
Psalm 27:4
Psalm 84:10
Psalm 103:12
Isaiah 1:18
Isaiah 30:33
Luke 15:10
Luke 15:11-32
John 8:
Rom. 6:15-23
Eph 1:7-12
Breaking up was hard to do, we had been together for a long time but I decided I wanted my autonomy. I had been young when we met and I felt I deserved to see more of the world. It wasn’t fair to him that he had been my first love without my knowing what else was in reach. Besides, he was so possessive. Always directing my actions, whispering in my ear whenever he sensed I was going to do something that displeased him. Well, I made my decision now and I had to live with it. I wasn’t going to be wishy-washy, my mind was set.
As I walked out of his house he just stood there with a tear rolling down his cheek. I had no empathy for him, he had never rejected or deliberately hurt me as I was doing to him. I was disappointed that he didn’t rush after me, plead with me, beg me to stay. He must have wanted this himself! What a hypocrite, why did he let this relationship go for so long if he was worn out with it himself? If I meant something to him he should have fought for me! What a wuss!
I breathed the air of autonomy as I walked down his driveway to my car. I knew where I wanted to go first. A bar. He never prevented me from going to one but he always went with me, inhibiting my actions. Everyone else always seemed to be having so much fun, switching partners, meeting new people, getting a buzz from alcohol, while we just had a coke and observed fun in action. I only went for going away parties when someone at work left for other pastures. I‘ve never been drunk so that was my first objective. Real mature goals, huh?
The music was loud, the lights were flashing, beverages were a hundred proof, no one seemed unhappy, (and there were tons of “no ones” everyone in the city had to be in this one building). I couldn’t move without brushing against a body from the front, back or side. Fluid spilled on me from several glasses as I made my way back for seconds and thirds, purposely passing by a gentleman who had been observing me from the moment I entered; yes, I noticed. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of me, and I wanted more than his blue orbs embracing me. He was an extremely handsome dude and he was ogling me! Well, stop looking and start touching!
Oops, I tripped as I neared him on my way back to my table and wouldn’t you know it, I practically fell in his lap! Gosh, I’m such a klutz. Hmmm. As it turned out, my little clumsiness was a great ice breaker, we spent the rest of the evening together. He bought all my drinks and things started getting hazy from then on but I had no doubts about where we would end up.
.I woke up the next morning in his room, I left the bar a girl and woke a woman. I just wish I knew whether I had enjoyed it or not. I spent the day with him, then the night, then the morning again. (I’m not going to tell you to get your mind out of the gutter because whatever you’re thinking happened, happened, let your thoughts go feral!) I was smitten. It was hard for me to believe that it had been so easy to find love again, on my first night of liberty. If this was rebound love I don’t know why it got such a bad reputation.
What followed was a whirl wind courtship. Is that still a popular phrase? We spent time together, invented time to be together, cancelled appointments to be together, gave up friends to be together. He taught me how to drink, and explore the world of drugs safely; what an oxymoron! I was getting the life I didn’t have with Mr. Goodie Two Shoes (GTS). I was seeing the world with a personal guide. I had a man that knew how to treat a woman so that she knew she was a woman.
I missed lots of work to be with Tophet. I gave up my friends because they had been part of my life with GTS and kept imploring me to go back. None of my old friends liked Tophet and didn’t mind voicing their unsolicited opinions. I wouldn’t do it. Slowly I became a hermit with just that special some one only in my life, Tophet.
The weeks melted into months. Months with many changes. My employment changed several times do to repeated absenteeism. Where we lived changed several times, due to failure to meet the rent. My bank account changed due to failure to work steadily. My health changed several times due to….never mind. I got a “disease” that Tophet and I argued about. He skillfully convinced me I must have picked it up off a toilet seat at one of the filthy bars we visited recently. It embarrassed me to seek treatment for it since old acquaintances worked at the public health office, the only medical care I could afford now. They were very kind to me but that didn’t hide the “I told you” sign that hung in the air between us in flashing neon lights.
One morning while Tophet went in search of some nourishment, the kind you inhale, pop or shoot up, I drug myself to the medicine cabinet in search of any small pill or grain of cocaine that we might have over looked. I screeched when I found an intruder in the bathroom hiding behind the sink. She stared at me with sunken eyes, (lusterless sunken eyes), bruised cheeks, (sunken bruised cheeks). Eye shadow was smeared to her hair line, lipstick was smeared to her chin, mascara was smeared to her upper lips, however there was no make up whatever on her eyelids, lips or lashes where you would expect to see such things. Her bare shoulders were battered and scratched and her hair looked like it was combed with an egg beater. I reached to toss her out on her ears but she wouldn’t move. She was standing flat against the wall so I tried again, I couldn’t get a good grip. Good grief she was so flat! Following a few efforts to get my hands on her it hit me; this trespasser was my reflection! My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. My brain stopped. A video lit up the mirror and my choreographed life played in slow motion. It had to have been produced by Stephen King.
I was in no condition to walk so grabbing my car keys I stumbled to my car. I didn’t know where I was going. I just had to get away from that person in the mirror but she pursued me to the car, I could see her in the rearview mirror. My car went into auto pilot and took me down old familiar lanes. I passed people who didn’t wave or honk at me. They should know me but no one recognized me.
I found his house. Should I get out? What nerve I had, expecting him to be home waiting for me after months of making fun of his lifestyle? He wouldn’t want to see me now. I had broken my promise to stay pure for him till my wedding night. I had researched drugs, alcohol, theft, sex and things so carnal even I don’t want to list them.I got out of my car and wobbled to the front door. Lights glowed out of the windows. I gently tapped the knocker. Gently because I didn’t want him to hear me. Then I was afraid he wouldn’t answer so I knocked harder. He must have peeked out the window. Of course he wouldn’t let me in. He warranted someone better than me. I wasn’t good enough for myself, why would he want this broken body, filled with broken promises? He was probably calling the police at this very moment.
Tophet pulled up on the curb; literally. The passenger side hit the streetlight making metal to metal racket. He had his special angry face on! The one that preceded teaching me “a lesson I would remember!” I resumed pounding on the door and crumbled to the cement. This would be mortifying. I was going to get a pounding right under GTS’s nose. He would enjoy this, I‘m sure. The girl that jilted him and her “lover” getting carted off to jail for disturbing the peace.
“Oh, God help me!” I moaned, my lips moving with the words sliding silently out onto the air.
Seconds before Tophet reached me the door swung open and GTS stood there, hands at his side slightly angled out, palms up. Blood dripped from old wounds on his wrist onto my head. Tophet braked to a stop inches from me. There was a staring contest between the two men as I wept in a disintegrated heap. Tophet cursed and raged. He spewed all sorts of epithets at me, I covered my ears with shaking hands. GTS crushed Tophet without even raising a arm or uttering a word. Tophet retreated, a hissing looser. I grabbed GTS’s feet to prevent him from leaving me outside. He stooped down and gently hoisting me to my feet steered me into the living area. They were all there. All my friends. My true friends. On their knees. Heads bent. Praying. For me. Behind them stood radiant wispy figures only I could see, applauding. It must have been the residual effect of some drug, at least it was pleasant unlike the nightmarish apparitions I’d caught sight of in the past few weeks.
In nano seconds, I was surrounded. Caressed by loving hands, (in decent places!). Cleaned. Fed. Dressed. My wounds were treated, and covered. I was welcomed back. Similar stories were shared. I wasn’t alone. I never was. To my astonishment they all had comparable tales they were ashamed of. What bombshells they dropped on me! Hard to believe? Believe it. My story isn’t unique. It’s not hopeless. GTS wasn’t ashamed of me. He was willing, ready and able to take me back. He would never mention the past few months to me again. With his wonderfully selective memory he chose to only remember that I called out to him, you see…..GTS, goodie two shoes, is really GTS, the God That Saves. I was back home, in his house.……….Oh, P.S I latter learned that the door had never been locked behind me, all I had had to do was turn the knob, GTS was on the other side just patiently waiting.
Psalm 27:4
Psalm 84:10
Psalm 103:12
Isaiah 1:18
Isaiah 30:33
Luke 15:10
Luke 15:11-32
John 8:
Rom. 6:15-23
Eph 1:7-12
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)