Waking up was hard. I could tell it was practically noon without looking at a clock. I rolled over and stretched. My bed was hard and cold affecting every joint I owned. My head was cracking in two. Sunlight blurred my vision. I reached for my sunglasses.Today would be like all the other days of my recent life, boring and depressing so there was no reason to jump up and race anywhere. The traffic on the streets was light today. I wonder why? Oh yeah, I know why!. I did have something to do today: eat and eat till my stomach hurt. Some church down town was fixing dinner for the neighborhood. I didn't have to scrounge for something to cook today! I just had to be leery of goodie two shoes. There is always a gimmick when things are offered free.
I got up, made my bed, knocking over five beer cans laying where my head was moments ago. Open bean and wiener cans lay scattered about. My dog slowly unrolled her body and waited for my next move, her tail wagging. "Sorry old girl, I will have to bring you something back." I secured her to something solid. I would die if I lost my only companion of the last few months.I didn't have to get dressed. My pajamas and day wear were one and the same. The benefits of not having someone dictate to you daily how to live your life. I ran my hands over wrinkles, in my clothes and hair, attempting to smooth them out and aimed my self in the direction of sustenance.
It was a blustery November day, the fourth Thursday in the month, and I was walking towards a fantastic dinner. I could hardly wait. Turkey, stuffing, apple, blueberry, and pecan pies, yams, cranberry relish, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, salads galore, vegetables that I would probably pass on. (It's not that I hate vegetables, I love them, that's why I'm against the whole sale slaughtering of them.)All around me the wind whipped the trees and bushes. Leaves fluttered by my head along with papers and other litter. I snugged up my jacket collar and shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, one hand exited the opposite end. There's something else to do today, mend some clothes. My feet were blistering where my socks were torn, and rubbing against the leather shoes. Parts of my feet were scrapping concrete where the soles had worn through. I walked past a man hunkered up against a building, knees drawn up to his chest, head slightly tilted to the far left. His right hand had a tight hold on a brown bag with a bottle neck sticking out. If he were conscience I'd probably have invited him to join me for a meal. I wasn't about to disturb his sleep,(or death?)
The closer I got to the finish line I was joined by more dinner go-ers. We tried to out saunter each other, not wanting to be last in line. Men with torn service clothes on, women carrying half naked youngsters with slightly blue lips, toddlers without shoes stumble-running at their heels, couples that looked like they knew each other to well by the looks of the bruises in various stages of healing, teenagers keeping a hold on their pants to avoid tripping on their own clothing. A good belt would help with those pants,kids. It's not a new invention. I never cared for the baggy pants look. Now flannel and fleece pajama bottoms were something else. They looked so cool. I used them for everything, mixing them up with colorful t-shirts when I lived at home.
There it was at last. The walk really impacted my appetite not that it needed much of a shove. The aromas from the kitchen formed invisible fingers pulling me forward. I didn't need any encouragement. My mouth was salivating in preparation for the first best dinner of the year; next month's of course being the grand finale.Where did all these people come from? Where did they stay at night and during the day? I prayed there would be enough for seconds, even thirds.
Man, the tables were loaded down. A lady at the door greeted me, handed me a plate and pointed to a line. Was her warmth genuine? Who cared, I was going to feast. Things were moving without a hitch and before long I was seated and someone planted a tea glass in front of me. Wow, a table, table cloth, plate, fork,spoon, knife, napkin and drinking glass. There were hand sanitizers stacked by the salt and pepper shakers. Just like the meals at mom's house, only she made us wash before coming to the table!
I chowed down and chowed down some more. I was afraid to talk fearing I'd oink instead. There were cards in the pumpkin centerpieces that gave directions to needed community services. Food lines, homeless shelters, women's havens, Medical clinics, AA, NA, etc. Every need was attempting to be met without getting in our faces. Checking to be sure I wasn't been watched, I pocketed an AA card, just in case.
The atmosphere was between subdued and exuberant. Some attendees kept to themselves, while some were gently coaxed into conversations by strategically placed church members. Some of the hard core visitants mumbled to themselves making it clear they wanted no interaction. Some threw furtive glances around waiting to be evicted, not believing their luck, having victuals in front of them was all they wanted. The kids were uninhibited however, running, jumping and crawling under tables. There were corners set up for story telling and games to divert the rowdy ones and entertain the calm ones. They were setting up to play movies in the auditorium, laying blankets and pillows about for the younsters that wouldn't be able to stay awake.
The minister was mingling,going from table to table introducing himself and shaking hands, well able to fit into any conversational topic. He was dressed in (gasp) blue jeans and a t-shirt. A suit and tie would make him look haughty. Smart dude.
As people left the tables, replacements were instantly seated. No one had to wait or eat standing up, unless that was their wish. Casting a few side looks I stashed some rolls and meat into my pocket, the one without the hole, for Scruffy.
A lady walked up with deserts on a tray an proffered some to me. I grabbed two pie wedges and started shoveling them into a ready receptacle, my mouth. Sitting down, dessert lady, leaned over and whispered. "It's alright to take some food home for a friend." She nodded at my swelling pocket. Zinged.
"It's for my dog." I explained, turning red. She was going to make a spectacle of me and confiscate my hidden treasures.
"Well for heaven's sake, let me get the poor thing a doggy bag."
She hurried away and returned with a plastic bag loaded with turkey skin, meat, rolls,fat and other unidentifiable edibles that were high on doggy heaven lists. "I just love animals so we have a bin in back we're stashing the left overs in for anyone's pets."
Wow, these people are clever."Gee, thanks." Scruffy's stomach was going to be ecstatic. I was so relieved. I felt selfish having a full tummy while she was starving. I was beginning to see her ribs. I was wrong when I announced to my parents I could take care of her.
I finally finished gorging myself and investigated the other rooms. They had a country store set up with clothes and necessities. While you shopped they played a film about the life of Jesus, tricky people, these Christians. Everything had the same price tag. "Donated in the name of Jesus". I selected some clean socks, a box of cereal, some canned goods, a sewing kit, a shirt, toothpaste and other little conveniences I'd been without for sometime. Mothers helped themselves to diapers, baby formulas, baby shoes and outfits. They pocketed very little for themselves since they could only tote so much. Sorry, no cigarettes or liqueur were on display anywhere. It's amazing how none of the "customers" took advantage of the free stuff. I guess carrying and storing was a problem for most of us.As I went from room to room I would catch a phrase here and there. "...loves you..." "...nothing to great to forgive..." "...waiting for us...." "...carries our burdens..." "...all sinners have a future..." Church people were using their wiles on the guests. I'd heard it all before at home, didn't want to listen then, don't want to listen now. It is amazing, though, how the seed takes root once it's distributed.
There was an office with several phones that people were standing in line for. The church was picking up the tab for family calls for those who so desired. Oh, what the hell. It would be nice to hear mom's voice. Let her know I was still alive and making it on my own. A voice whispered in my ear. "Don't be crazy, you had good reasons for leaving." I managed to ignore it. I'll call and hang up after she answers."Hello."
Mom answered on the second ring.With out warning my mouth started to betray me. "Mom, can I come home. I'm sorry I took your money, I'll go to school and everything, I promise. I'll give up beer, I'll do anything you want!" I began to cry like a baby. Damn, I'm too old for this.
"Dan, come quick!" Mom began yelling for dad. The yelling I used to hate now resonated as music to my ears! Never would I have thought mom's yelling could sound so welcome. She was yelling and crying when dad croaked into the phone.
"Where are you son?" I've never heard dad's voice crack with emotion before. It made me wail louder. I told them where to find me. I was twenty minutes away. My spoiled younger brother was in the background asking,"What's the big deal? The looser needs more money? He's probably drunk right now."
I hung up and ran "home" to pack the only thing that mattered. Scruffy. I would be bathed and sleeping in my bed soon. I rolled up my sleeping bag as cars whizzed by on the bridge above me. I've been living under this bridge for five months. It was a choice location, protecting me somewhat from the extreme heat and cold. Any moment a car will stop, honk, and Scruffy and I will be gone, vacating this dream spot for someone else. I just hoped mom wouldn't fix my favorite meals all at once. For some reason I'm not hungry right now for anything but love! I'm even eager to see my brat brother, despite our differences!
Psalm 146:7
Luke 15:11-31
John 21:17
James 2:15-17
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Act of God
Slumlord? What's their problem? It's not my fault they can't afford better housing. They're darn lucky I provide them with a roof and four walls. If they want repairs they need to expect a rent increase or do their own maintenance. It was time to leave, no way I'm going to listen to any more complaints at the tenants association meeting. They keep bringing up the poor soul who died of a heat stroke in his apartment because I wouldn't install air conditioning. This was Texas after all. Summer was literally a killer; I wasn't responsible for acts of God.
I steered my car towards the freeway. The last thing I remembered was the car pulling out in front of me. I had a green light, they ran a red light. No, that's not true, I also remembered scenes from my life passing in front of me. The days I stole, lied, cheated, committed adultery, schemed to murder,(never actually pulled it off but plotting it was cathartic), partied, and climbed up the latter of success, buying multiple apartment complexes. Then I felt searing pain, but just for a second before I entered total blackness.
I eventually came to, but didn't have a concept of time. I had been thrown from my car and was lying on the roadside.I slowly sat up and looked around. There were two cars meshed together, smoldering, with police and emergency techs milling around them. Two bodies were on stretchers nearby with paramedics working furiously to stabilize them. A man was standing by one stretcher holding a ladies hand and crying. The lady was smiling wanely at him. The paramedic assured the man that it wasn't as bad as it looked.
I must not be bad off. No one was working on me. I needed to get back to the office, time was money. I called over to one of the EMT's to ask if I could use his cell phone, since mine was missing from my pocket. I didn't have time to go to the emergency room. It was amazing how good I felt looking at the condition of what appeared to once be my Jaquar.The guy nearest me was so busy with his work he didn't even look up at me. I experienced a sensation of tugging on my legs. Turning to see who had a hold of me I only saw a blanket covered mass. Oh, no, someone didn't survive. They should have been more careful at the intersection, running red lights is fatal. Thank heavens I had the right of way. The driver of the other vehicle was guilty of manslaughter. Serves him right, inconveniencing me like this.
The tugging continued to get stronger but no one was there. I began to feel apprehensive, something close to an anxiety attack was affecting me. I jumped to my feet to run away. The tugging increased and increased, pulling me to my knees. Looking down I realized I wasn't on my knees but that my legs had sunk below the ground and my waist was vanishing below the surface. I was sinking into the earth. Two horrible thoughts occured to me. I stretched hard to reach the sheet over the still body and yanked it off just as I sunk down to my chest. The body on the ground, the one that didn't make it, was mangled and bloody but I knew it well. It was me! The teachings of my sainted mother returned to me with fervor,stories of heaven and hell. Fear gripped me. I thought they had just been stories to make me behave!I yelled to the sky above me, "Don't do this, I was going to make a decision when I retired! Give me a break. Show me your famous grace!""Sorry, no second chances after death." was the reply. It was an act of God.
My head disappeared below ground. I made out different layers of dirt, worms, rocks, roots, insects, maggots and started screaming and lashing out. Further and further I went. Hotter and hotter it got,with temperatures soaring higher than any summer day in Texas. I found myself in a muddy tunnel with others and soon I was dumped in a dark cave with more bodies. All my senses were assaulted. My skin sizzled, my blood boiled and evaporated. My lips and tongue felt like sandpaper. I experienced incredible thirst and longed for my liquor bar at home. My ears were subjected to wicked screaming and wailing from deeper down. Acrid smoke filled my nasal passages with burning flesh. My eyes were fighting the darkness. Dirt and grit scratched my corneas. I know they were open but I saw nothing but absolute darkness. The brief moment I had entered darkness after the accident was the only relief from pain I'd ever know again.
I slid down a steep incline at the back of the cave with other carcasses, all howling and shouting, begging and praying. And bargaining. "Let's work something out", most of us pleaded with our Judge and Jury."Give us a chance to warn our families about this place!" The answer came back, "If your families didn't listen to my ministers, they won't listen to the dead!"
We rolled towards a huge furnace fueled by screeching bodies. Monstrous beasts were pushing us in. People were striking each other, crawling over each other trying to put distance between them and the blaze. There was no escape. The heat was past suffocating. I tried to climb back up the way I came. There were no hand or footholds. More bodies falling down blocked the exit. Hysterically I formed a plan. If all of us worked together we could climb up, we could get out of here. No one was listening to my shouts. No one could hear me over their own wailing. No one was going to cooperate.
Inside the furnace faces looked out, melting and reforming, old faces, old bodies. They were scorched and still aware of their circumstances. No morphine or pain drugs here. People from history books were present. Infamous people dead for centuries, still suffering. People who had plotted violent crimes together were treating each other with the code of violence they had committed. All friendships, alliances or connections were meaningless now. No one could offer anyone an alternative. Everyone here had been villains or gang members on earth, here in the bowels of hot lava no partnerships existed.
Searching above me for some exit, some sign of hope in a hopeless situation, I caught a glimpse of the tenant who had died of heat exhaustion in my apartments. He was on a soft cloud by a swiftly flowing river lined with all types of fruit bearing trees, being offered cool beverages by a beautiful winged creature. Seconds latter I was shoveled into the incinerator with the rest of humanity's trash. Weeping wailing and gnashing of teeth for eternity. I will find no friends or relieve in hell. This was the last act of God for me.
Luke 16:19-31
I steered my car towards the freeway. The last thing I remembered was the car pulling out in front of me. I had a green light, they ran a red light. No, that's not true, I also remembered scenes from my life passing in front of me. The days I stole, lied, cheated, committed adultery, schemed to murder,(never actually pulled it off but plotting it was cathartic), partied, and climbed up the latter of success, buying multiple apartment complexes. Then I felt searing pain, but just for a second before I entered total blackness.
I eventually came to, but didn't have a concept of time. I had been thrown from my car and was lying on the roadside.I slowly sat up and looked around. There were two cars meshed together, smoldering, with police and emergency techs milling around them. Two bodies were on stretchers nearby with paramedics working furiously to stabilize them. A man was standing by one stretcher holding a ladies hand and crying. The lady was smiling wanely at him. The paramedic assured the man that it wasn't as bad as it looked.
I must not be bad off. No one was working on me. I needed to get back to the office, time was money. I called over to one of the EMT's to ask if I could use his cell phone, since mine was missing from my pocket. I didn't have time to go to the emergency room. It was amazing how good I felt looking at the condition of what appeared to once be my Jaquar.The guy nearest me was so busy with his work he didn't even look up at me. I experienced a sensation of tugging on my legs. Turning to see who had a hold of me I only saw a blanket covered mass. Oh, no, someone didn't survive. They should have been more careful at the intersection, running red lights is fatal. Thank heavens I had the right of way. The driver of the other vehicle was guilty of manslaughter. Serves him right, inconveniencing me like this.
The tugging continued to get stronger but no one was there. I began to feel apprehensive, something close to an anxiety attack was affecting me. I jumped to my feet to run away. The tugging increased and increased, pulling me to my knees. Looking down I realized I wasn't on my knees but that my legs had sunk below the ground and my waist was vanishing below the surface. I was sinking into the earth. Two horrible thoughts occured to me. I stretched hard to reach the sheet over the still body and yanked it off just as I sunk down to my chest. The body on the ground, the one that didn't make it, was mangled and bloody but I knew it well. It was me! The teachings of my sainted mother returned to me with fervor,stories of heaven and hell. Fear gripped me. I thought they had just been stories to make me behave!I yelled to the sky above me, "Don't do this, I was going to make a decision when I retired! Give me a break. Show me your famous grace!""Sorry, no second chances after death." was the reply. It was an act of God.
My head disappeared below ground. I made out different layers of dirt, worms, rocks, roots, insects, maggots and started screaming and lashing out. Further and further I went. Hotter and hotter it got,with temperatures soaring higher than any summer day in Texas. I found myself in a muddy tunnel with others and soon I was dumped in a dark cave with more bodies. All my senses were assaulted. My skin sizzled, my blood boiled and evaporated. My lips and tongue felt like sandpaper. I experienced incredible thirst and longed for my liquor bar at home. My ears were subjected to wicked screaming and wailing from deeper down. Acrid smoke filled my nasal passages with burning flesh. My eyes were fighting the darkness. Dirt and grit scratched my corneas. I know they were open but I saw nothing but absolute darkness. The brief moment I had entered darkness after the accident was the only relief from pain I'd ever know again.
I slid down a steep incline at the back of the cave with other carcasses, all howling and shouting, begging and praying. And bargaining. "Let's work something out", most of us pleaded with our Judge and Jury."Give us a chance to warn our families about this place!" The answer came back, "If your families didn't listen to my ministers, they won't listen to the dead!"
We rolled towards a huge furnace fueled by screeching bodies. Monstrous beasts were pushing us in. People were striking each other, crawling over each other trying to put distance between them and the blaze. There was no escape. The heat was past suffocating. I tried to climb back up the way I came. There were no hand or footholds. More bodies falling down blocked the exit. Hysterically I formed a plan. If all of us worked together we could climb up, we could get out of here. No one was listening to my shouts. No one could hear me over their own wailing. No one was going to cooperate.
Inside the furnace faces looked out, melting and reforming, old faces, old bodies. They were scorched and still aware of their circumstances. No morphine or pain drugs here. People from history books were present. Infamous people dead for centuries, still suffering. People who had plotted violent crimes together were treating each other with the code of violence they had committed. All friendships, alliances or connections were meaningless now. No one could offer anyone an alternative. Everyone here had been villains or gang members on earth, here in the bowels of hot lava no partnerships existed.
Searching above me for some exit, some sign of hope in a hopeless situation, I caught a glimpse of the tenant who had died of heat exhaustion in my apartments. He was on a soft cloud by a swiftly flowing river lined with all types of fruit bearing trees, being offered cool beverages by a beautiful winged creature. Seconds latter I was shoveled into the incinerator with the rest of humanity's trash. Weeping wailing and gnashing of teeth for eternity. I will find no friends or relieve in hell. This was the last act of God for me.
Luke 16:19-31
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Hand Outs
It was a blistering hot Texan day. I was sitting outside a gas station with my dog, working. I looked enviously across the lot at the air conditioned convenience store. Perspiring heavily, I wished I could work inside. Occasionally I would moisten my face with a wet rag from my duffel bag and sneak a drink from the paper sack. It was only a coke, alcohol in this heat would kill me. Plus booze was detected on my breath it would affect my job.
Some cars were pulling up beside the tanks. As the owners disembarked and started refueling I would cautiously approach them and ask,"Excuse me, can you spare some change for me and my dog to get something to eat and drink?"The first lady I approached replied with a curt, "No."I recited a few indian curses under my breath and went down the line of cars. One lady emptied the console between the bucket seats of her car and handed all her change over to me. One gentleman, getting ready to pullout, opened his wallet and pulled out a few bills. Another couple gave my dog some water they poured in their hands and followed that up with some tasty doggy treat. He licked their hands dry and gobbled up the feast with gusto. A few people suggested I get a job.(excuse me, this is a job!) One young couple offered to take me to their church so I could apply for assistance from their food pantry. I would get a substantial helping of groceries delivered to my home after my application was reviewed. I informed them I had no home. Oh, we can help with that also. I pocketed their church card, promised to read it (thinking to myself,LIAR) and proceeded on down the line of cars, my hand held out and my dog in tow.
I got told a time or two, "If you can't take care of yourself, you don't need a dog!"
I informed these people,"Living on the streets it's important to have protection. I can't afford a security system."
It was getting late and hotter as the sun rose into the afternoon sky. I finally entered the air conditioned convenience store and purchased a gatorade and health food bar. The people in line eyed me suspiciously. They inched back as if poverty was a contagious disease, (I felt tempted to cough violenty and not cover my mouth.) Or maybe they thought I would jump all of them and take their precious hard earned money. Well, I worked hard for mine also. It's not easy sitting outside all day pleading for handouts.
Deciding it was time to move on I tugged on Faithful's leash and guided him up the street rounding several blocks, stopping now and then at street corners with heavy traffic to hold up my,"Need food for me and dog, God Bless" sign. Most people don't carry food with them so they flung money at me hurriedly before the lights changed from red to green. I didn't mind gathering coins from the curbside where they rolled. I've got no pride, but I'm loaded with greed.
I entered a different gas station bathroom ,washed up at the sink, then changed into some clean clothes I carried in my duffel bag. I applied some make-up, then preened in front of the mirrow. Next I dumped the contents of a medium sized pouch out on the counter and counted my blessings. Two hundred and fifty dollars. (plus some candy,sandwiches, and religious brochures which made it to the trash bin) Not bad for a days work of 6 hours. That's about forty two bucks and hour, without a high school education.
I then crossed a parking lot where two cars were parked under a tree. I walked up to the shiny silver Lexus and admired it. Pressing my face to the windows I drooled over the leather upholstery, the console, the radio, the spacious back seating. Boy. I'd love to have a car like this someday. I'll have to work harder to achieve something this nice. The other car was a fairly new Pt. Cruiser. It was kept in excellent condition. Nice bright red color, nice interior, good mileage. It will do. I looked about me, carefully. I jammed my hands deeper into my pockets and pulled out a set of keys. Glancing up and down the street, hoping to not get caught, I pushed the remote button, unlocked the back door and let Faithful onto the seats covered with a nice flannel throw. Then, swinging my knapsack in, I got behind the wheel and started the engine and cooling system.
It sure will be nice to get home and take a nice cool swim in the backyard pool while sipping a wine cooler, but first, a trip to my bank to get all this darn change deposited so I can pay this month's bills. See ya'll suckers again tomorrow!
Some cars were pulling up beside the tanks. As the owners disembarked and started refueling I would cautiously approach them and ask,"Excuse me, can you spare some change for me and my dog to get something to eat and drink?"The first lady I approached replied with a curt, "No."I recited a few indian curses under my breath and went down the line of cars. One lady emptied the console between the bucket seats of her car and handed all her change over to me. One gentleman, getting ready to pullout, opened his wallet and pulled out a few bills. Another couple gave my dog some water they poured in their hands and followed that up with some tasty doggy treat. He licked their hands dry and gobbled up the feast with gusto. A few people suggested I get a job.(excuse me, this is a job!) One young couple offered to take me to their church so I could apply for assistance from their food pantry. I would get a substantial helping of groceries delivered to my home after my application was reviewed. I informed them I had no home. Oh, we can help with that also. I pocketed their church card, promised to read it (thinking to myself,LIAR) and proceeded on down the line of cars, my hand held out and my dog in tow.
I got told a time or two, "If you can't take care of yourself, you don't need a dog!"
I informed these people,"Living on the streets it's important to have protection. I can't afford a security system."
It was getting late and hotter as the sun rose into the afternoon sky. I finally entered the air conditioned convenience store and purchased a gatorade and health food bar. The people in line eyed me suspiciously. They inched back as if poverty was a contagious disease, (I felt tempted to cough violenty and not cover my mouth.) Or maybe they thought I would jump all of them and take their precious hard earned money. Well, I worked hard for mine also. It's not easy sitting outside all day pleading for handouts.
Deciding it was time to move on I tugged on Faithful's leash and guided him up the street rounding several blocks, stopping now and then at street corners with heavy traffic to hold up my,"Need food for me and dog, God Bless" sign. Most people don't carry food with them so they flung money at me hurriedly before the lights changed from red to green. I didn't mind gathering coins from the curbside where they rolled. I've got no pride, but I'm loaded with greed.
I entered a different gas station bathroom ,washed up at the sink, then changed into some clean clothes I carried in my duffel bag. I applied some make-up, then preened in front of the mirrow. Next I dumped the contents of a medium sized pouch out on the counter and counted my blessings. Two hundred and fifty dollars. (plus some candy,sandwiches, and religious brochures which made it to the trash bin) Not bad for a days work of 6 hours. That's about forty two bucks and hour, without a high school education.
I then crossed a parking lot where two cars were parked under a tree. I walked up to the shiny silver Lexus and admired it. Pressing my face to the windows I drooled over the leather upholstery, the console, the radio, the spacious back seating. Boy. I'd love to have a car like this someday. I'll have to work harder to achieve something this nice. The other car was a fairly new Pt. Cruiser. It was kept in excellent condition. Nice bright red color, nice interior, good mileage. It will do. I looked about me, carefully. I jammed my hands deeper into my pockets and pulled out a set of keys. Glancing up and down the street, hoping to not get caught, I pushed the remote button, unlocked the back door and let Faithful onto the seats covered with a nice flannel throw. Then, swinging my knapsack in, I got behind the wheel and started the engine and cooling system.
It sure will be nice to get home and take a nice cool swim in the backyard pool while sipping a wine cooler, but first, a trip to my bank to get all this darn change deposited so I can pay this month's bills. See ya'll suckers again tomorrow!
Tough Love
I looked over my shoulder. My husband's dad was watching us leave. He stood in the middle of the yard, tears forming in his eyes. My husband wouldn't look back. He was too ashamed. We had been asked to leave because of a silly misunderstanding. Basically it was a "you're under my roof so you follow my rules," disagreement. Well, we slipped up, now we're shipping out. It was obviously hurting dad more than he'd admit. This had been my only home since I got married and I would miss it.
We marched on through the gate and into the jungle carrying what little luggage we owned, forming a path as we went, cutting down vines and crawling over logs, or pushing them aside. It was a path we'd never find again. It would grow wild and overgrown with more bushes in time. We'd never find our way back. Dad was placing sentries around the parameters to keep us out. How cold hearted.
We kept on going and going. Looking for the perfect place to restart our lives. I doubt we would find it. Home had been picture perfect, Husband's dad had spent years cultivating and landscaping it before Hubby was even born. All we had to do was the upkeep, which was easy. Sometimes living easy, living off your parents prevents you from growing up.
Something hit me on the back. Glancing up into the trees I saw a monkey hanging from a branch with one hand. The other hand was holding an apple."Look, it's Mixy". I announced.
Hubby looked to where I was pointing and tried to coax Mixy down. "She must have followed us all this way. Come here girl." Another apple came flying down and pummelled off Hubby's chest,forming a bruise next to a scar he'd had for as long as I could remember. "Hey, what are you doing!" he yelled. Then the strangest thing happened. Mixy narrowed her eyes and curled the right side of her lip up and showed us her teeth. She was snarling. I've never seen a snarl before. It was ugly. She vanished back into the trees. Hubby had raised Mixy. How odd she turned on him like that. What did she have to be angry about?
We trudged on and stopped midday to rest and eat some berries. There was a river nearby I went to get a drink from. Cupping my hands to hold water I scooped some up. It looked horrible. Dirt and sediment and little wiggly things. What happened to the clear fresh water from home. Wasn't this the same river? Up stream we came upon a bear lying strangely still. Curious. It didn't seem to be breathing. We pushed on it's body hoping to awaken it. Hubby leaned down and breathed into it's mouth. He first memory of his dad was of him breathing air into his lungs. Nothing. We've never seen a animal so listless. Looking around for some clue we were totally puzzled.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked Hubby, who was older than me.
"I don't know. It must be a fake."
On we went, stopping for the night. We picked a cave to shelter in. I felt weird sensations in my stomach. Hunger. Never experienced this before. The table was always set at home. We grew our own food and had a ready supply.
"Do you want this apple?" Hubby quiried.
"No, thanks, I've had enough of apples to last a life time." Apples got us into this trouble. Don't ask how, it's a long story. We dined on what vegetation we could find nearby. Everything was wild and hard to pick.
It was cold inside. We huddled together placing leaves over us for insulation till finally Hubby decided to try to get a fire started. He scratched some rocks together over dried grass till eventually we had a little blaze. We heard some growling outside. Going to the cave entrance we peered out. There were two lions standing two feet away, showing us the huge fangs they possessed.
"Hey, boys! Glad to see you." Hubby exclaimed, but jumped back quickly when the growling grew louder and the beasts leaned forward as if to attack. Thankfully the fire kept them from getting closer. What in the world is going on? We've never been attacked by animals before. We all respected each other. We never had any trouble with the wild life around home. Food was plentiful for all, no need to get nasty.
Several days latter we found a location to settle down. There was a large field and waterfall handy. We explored a gigantic cave that I added some home touches to. Hubby started the only life he knew. Farming. Things weren't as easy for him here. Thorns and weeds strangled out most of the vegetables. He came back every night exhausted, scratched and sunburnt. Discouragement hit us hard. We had difficulty facing each other, I blamed him for us being here and he blamed me.
Then one day I bent over in severe pain. The pain lasted forever. It was ripping me in two. Hubby was frantic. We may have had some issues with each other but we were all we had. I lay on the cave floor writhing and screaming. Hubby stayed by me holding my hand and crying. Something was awfully wrong. Hours and hours past with minutes of respite. Sweat was pooling on the floor. I was bleeding. Suddenly something popped. I screamed. My inards tumbled out of me. Ahhhhh.
Hubby stared and stared. Then he picked up what ever it was and brought it to my head where I could get a good view of it. My "inards" made noices, gurgly-cooey sounds. It appeared to be a minature duplicate of us. It had arms and legs and a face similiar to us,but it was dwarfish and bloody. I pushed it away in terror.Hubby held it close to him and it reached for his breast with it's tiny mouth. Boy, if my painful condition scared Hubby this thing licking his breast startled the pee out of him.
Some natural instinct in me finally rose to the surface and I reached for the creature and held it to my breast where it started suckling, I could see milk oozing out of the corners of a little mouth. "I think this is the beginning of our family. Do you think we should give it a name? I like the sound of 'Cain' "
"A family? We don't have time for a family. I don't know if we're "able" to raise Cain." Was Hubby's response before he passed out.
We marched on through the gate and into the jungle carrying what little luggage we owned, forming a path as we went, cutting down vines and crawling over logs, or pushing them aside. It was a path we'd never find again. It would grow wild and overgrown with more bushes in time. We'd never find our way back. Dad was placing sentries around the parameters to keep us out. How cold hearted.
We kept on going and going. Looking for the perfect place to restart our lives. I doubt we would find it. Home had been picture perfect, Husband's dad had spent years cultivating and landscaping it before Hubby was even born. All we had to do was the upkeep, which was easy. Sometimes living easy, living off your parents prevents you from growing up.
Something hit me on the back. Glancing up into the trees I saw a monkey hanging from a branch with one hand. The other hand was holding an apple."Look, it's Mixy". I announced.
Hubby looked to where I was pointing and tried to coax Mixy down. "She must have followed us all this way. Come here girl." Another apple came flying down and pummelled off Hubby's chest,forming a bruise next to a scar he'd had for as long as I could remember. "Hey, what are you doing!" he yelled. Then the strangest thing happened. Mixy narrowed her eyes and curled the right side of her lip up and showed us her teeth. She was snarling. I've never seen a snarl before. It was ugly. She vanished back into the trees. Hubby had raised Mixy. How odd she turned on him like that. What did she have to be angry about?
We trudged on and stopped midday to rest and eat some berries. There was a river nearby I went to get a drink from. Cupping my hands to hold water I scooped some up. It looked horrible. Dirt and sediment and little wiggly things. What happened to the clear fresh water from home. Wasn't this the same river? Up stream we came upon a bear lying strangely still. Curious. It didn't seem to be breathing. We pushed on it's body hoping to awaken it. Hubby leaned down and breathed into it's mouth. He first memory of his dad was of him breathing air into his lungs. Nothing. We've never seen a animal so listless. Looking around for some clue we were totally puzzled.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked Hubby, who was older than me.
"I don't know. It must be a fake."
On we went, stopping for the night. We picked a cave to shelter in. I felt weird sensations in my stomach. Hunger. Never experienced this before. The table was always set at home. We grew our own food and had a ready supply.
"Do you want this apple?" Hubby quiried.
"No, thanks, I've had enough of apples to last a life time." Apples got us into this trouble. Don't ask how, it's a long story. We dined on what vegetation we could find nearby. Everything was wild and hard to pick.
It was cold inside. We huddled together placing leaves over us for insulation till finally Hubby decided to try to get a fire started. He scratched some rocks together over dried grass till eventually we had a little blaze. We heard some growling outside. Going to the cave entrance we peered out. There were two lions standing two feet away, showing us the huge fangs they possessed.
"Hey, boys! Glad to see you." Hubby exclaimed, but jumped back quickly when the growling grew louder and the beasts leaned forward as if to attack. Thankfully the fire kept them from getting closer. What in the world is going on? We've never been attacked by animals before. We all respected each other. We never had any trouble with the wild life around home. Food was plentiful for all, no need to get nasty.
Several days latter we found a location to settle down. There was a large field and waterfall handy. We explored a gigantic cave that I added some home touches to. Hubby started the only life he knew. Farming. Things weren't as easy for him here. Thorns and weeds strangled out most of the vegetables. He came back every night exhausted, scratched and sunburnt. Discouragement hit us hard. We had difficulty facing each other, I blamed him for us being here and he blamed me.
Then one day I bent over in severe pain. The pain lasted forever. It was ripping me in two. Hubby was frantic. We may have had some issues with each other but we were all we had. I lay on the cave floor writhing and screaming. Hubby stayed by me holding my hand and crying. Something was awfully wrong. Hours and hours past with minutes of respite. Sweat was pooling on the floor. I was bleeding. Suddenly something popped. I screamed. My inards tumbled out of me. Ahhhhh.
Hubby stared and stared. Then he picked up what ever it was and brought it to my head where I could get a good view of it. My "inards" made noices, gurgly-cooey sounds. It appeared to be a minature duplicate of us. It had arms and legs and a face similiar to us,but it was dwarfish and bloody. I pushed it away in terror.Hubby held it close to him and it reached for his breast with it's tiny mouth. Boy, if my painful condition scared Hubby this thing licking his breast startled the pee out of him.
Some natural instinct in me finally rose to the surface and I reached for the creature and held it to my breast where it started suckling, I could see milk oozing out of the corners of a little mouth. "I think this is the beginning of our family. Do you think we should give it a name? I like the sound of 'Cain' "
"A family? We don't have time for a family. I don't know if we're "able" to raise Cain." Was Hubby's response before he passed out.
Gen 3:22-24Romans 8:22
Monday, February 12, 2007
Revelation
We all sat in front of the big screen T.V watching the battle. Battle? It was
more like an annihilation. Our side was slaughtering the enemy right, left, up
and down. We didn't miss a stroke. Our fearless leader was in front of his
troops in the valley doing the most damage. He was in charge. His breast plate
had LOL, KOK inscribed on it large red letters. The dead were piling up on
the ground starting to float in blood that hadn't soaked into the earth but was
rising higher than the horse's chests making it harder for the foe to maneuver.
Large birds of prey were accumulating, picking the flesh off of the losers. As
the battle wound down, four winged generals went to the side lines on higher
ground to sort out the prisoners at a makeshift court where our King was
questioning them.
The reporter got up close with her microphone and we
heard, "Sir, do you remember when I was flooded out of my home and my family
and I were starving. You sat down at your dinner table and ignored my needs for
weeks."
"I have never laid my eyes on you before! You've mistaken me for
someone else. Please, have mercy!" was the indignant and angry response.
"No, sir. It was you and I was in the face of every Katrina victim that was posted
on T.V and bulletins everywhere. You sir are guilty of showing no mercy!", our
King roared.
The hapless man was hauled off to a giant barbeque pit (not to be
fed!). His attorney was already there being grilled, literally.
Then a lady came up humbly before the King. "M'am, step to my right side, you will be well taken care of. You were kind to me at the infirmary in jail every time you
visited."
"Sir, I appreciate your kindness, but I think someone else deserves
this place of honor, I've never met you before."
"Yes, m'am, you have. I was on death row when you and your Sunday school class came to offer bible studies. I was in the heart of every convicted criminal you helped see the truth."
I didn't have the stomach to watch any more, but I was in a hypnotic trance.
I'm so glad I'm not over there! Years earlier I had been in the middle of a
sentence at work when a loud noise erupted from some unseen place. I saw the
look of amazement in my co-worker's face for just a split second before I was
sucked up into some huge whirl wind, completely naked and unashamed! Millions
of us were spiraling upward towards a huge figure with a trumpet in his hands.
We passed the sun, (every sun), planets, and galaxies till we were deposited in
this land, on the other side of the rainbow,(sorry, no wizards here to take us
back home, for that matter no wicked witches either). We were far away from the
war zone in front of us now. Seven years of hard times fell on those we left at
home waiting for the proper time for our worthy commander to intervene in world
affairs. Now those that hadn't listened to us while we were in hearing distance
were being convicted or released. A shout went up from all of us when we
recognized a new convert and winner and we toasted each other with our wine
glasses. We cried one last time for all those that got thrown into the large pit. I had to cover my ears, the screeching, pleading, cursing and howling that escaped the pit every time the lid was opened was demonic, for all the demons had been incarcerated first. What a waste, they had all been there at the beginning, how could they let one little
guy with a red tail talk them into an insurrection? What dopes. Lucifer had not
created a singe thing out of nothing, but chaos out of everything.
At last, business completed, the army returned home, white horses prancing,
nares flaring with victory. The troops were complete, we hadn't lost one! All
the soldiers were full of energy and excitement. While most of us had watched
the engagement down below, the natives of this land had been busy preparing a
feast. The King was ready to take his bride, to the victor go the spoils, and
boy, were we a spoiled lot, none of us deserved what we were going to receive.
He wouldn't wed her till everything was unblemished. We were all headed to the
best and last wedding we'd ever attend. His bride was dressed in the finest
silk and gold that blood could buy. The table was laden with the purest wine
and food available and slowly, slowly, we began to forget our past lives, loves
and losses. We had new future, different goals, we had eternity. This was one
marriage that would never see the divorce courts.(After all, there weren't any
lawyers here, get over it, there's no need, you lawyers have enough time to
learn a new trade!)
After the reception and festivities we all approached a great white throne
where a huge ball of light rested. On the right side of the royal seat stood a
man that had earned the privilege of that position. We all stood before the
throne of grace by ourselves, we only were responsible for our lives’ deeds.
Each of us were read to from a huge book and all that was credited to our
defense was the "blood". This was sufficient, because after the reading every
word against us vanished from the pages. I never thought red blood could bleach
out my black past!. After we were judged eligible we were assigned cities to
rule. Some of us received ten, five and one. I got one and was totally pleased.
No one argued with the results of the book. We were too elated with our rewards
after having seen "the pit". We returned to the globe where all life had
started. The birds and wild animals had cleaned up the combat zone and there
remained no sign of conflict. We would now start the reconstruction of what
should have taken place from the garden of Eden. From Genesis to Revelation,
years of detouring, we were back at the beginning.
postscript: LOL and KOK mean- Lord of Lords and King of Kings
Too Late
I sat at the back of the chapel because I might get called away any minute.
Not to mention, I was still mad at her. I recalled our last argument too well.
So I stayed at the back watching the mourners enter and walk down the aisle
to view her body. So many exclamations of disbelief,no one had seen this
coming. If only she were here to see the crowd asimilating,maybe she'd have
stayed, maybe not. If only I could summon her back, point my finger at her and
say,"I told you so. See people really did care." Her spirit was willing to
stay but her flesh was weak. Only I had any influence on her and I lost. She
wouldn't listen to me. Her arguments were stronger. She was convinced God
would forgive her even if he didn't approve of her tactics. It wasn't the
absence of God in her life that caused her do to this, it was the failure to
continue with the meds that God had provided. It was user error, not the
manufacturer's.
Her "true" friends held each other for comfort. She should have
spoken to them earlier but people get uncomfortable with those kinds of
conversations, and it would have embarrassed her. There wasn't enough
experience in dealing with these topics despite the literature out there. I
hope now they will seek out that literature, she sure should have.
I was amazed at some of the faces I saw come in. I wanted to yell,"hypocrite",
and "murderer". They hadn't actually manually killed her body but they
masacered her spirit. They laughed at her. They teased her. They belittled her.
They made her feel invisible, unimportant. She had responded with good humor,
her mask a perfect fit to hide the pain and doubts and hurts. She had them
convinced she couldn't be bruised. She was tough, fun, outgoing. She did enjoy
a good laugh and applauded good retorts, but it was the sincere insults hidden
in humor that got to her. She had used humor as a coat of armor. If she had
just taken the mask off occasionally and tried honesty with some of these
people maybe she'd still be here. She had God on her side and followed the
rule of turning the other cheek but being only human this got old. Kids can be
cruel on the playground and it doesn't stop there. Cruel kids grow into cruel
adults. They weren't completely responsible for destroying her, because she had
a big part in it. She had to constantly fight her body's responses to low
hormones. She finally had discovered anti-depressants. As the body ages it
produces less and less of desirabe mood chemicals and needs a boost much like a
diabetic needs outside insulin, or someone needs thyroid hormone. It's not
shameful to be on pills. These pills gave her a boost but like anything they
can only do so much. She would feel better and lighten up on her meds, then
swing down to the pit of despair again. Why should one take meds just to feel
good around people? She would get to feeling blue and let the insults injure
her. But her mask did a good job. She would retaliate with a joke, good humor.
She wouldn't let the aggressor know they scored a point, that their blade had
found the target. Boy that was a fantastic mask, it was waterproof and
concealed the tears. It made people think she was invulnerable. "Oh, if we
didn't like you, we wouldn't tease you," or, "It's just her, it's okay." were
regular rejoinders. They took a pebble size hunk out of her soul with every
recital. "That's just her," when she wanted to be taken seriously, "That's just
her," when she blundered, "That's just her," when she tried to correct an
error. She was eaten in small bites. If she had seen this crowd maybe she would
have stayed.
They kept coming, friends (and foes) from church and from work. However, these
misty eyed people have short memories. In time this will be forgotten. Though
there is no one else like her someone else will be teased mercilessly and end
up the same way. Cruel kids, cruel adults. I could hear someone asking
questions, Why? How? What on earth for? The questions were useless because if
they could be answered it wouldn't reverse a thing. She would still be dead.
This was it the grand finale, the results of cruel kids grown up. She hadn't
left a note. It wouldn't have solved anything. Why did they deserve any
answers? It would have been like throwing pearls before swine.
The eulogy was nice, flowery, vaguely generic. It hit the good points. Gave
the family hope of seeing her again. Tried to educate the attendees on the
subject of her method of death. Created sobbing. Said good bye. Left the body
just as dead. The words should have been spoken when she could hear them. She
might not have believed them, though. Actions speak louder than words.
I watched as the figures filed past the coffin. They said good bye. Some
cried. Oh, give me a break, you didn't even like her, I thought. Maybe they had
repented. There is hope for the next victim of depression. Some lingered, and
were genuinely respectful. Some just went to follow the crowd. It really was
her, they all thought." If we didn't like you we wouldn't tease you,"
became, "We liked you, why didn't you let us help you?" It was incredibly
touching.
The family went last. I couldn't bear watching them so I closed my eyes. They
were closest to her and they still had not noticed her broken spirit as they
were caught up in their own problems. I didn't feel real sorrow for them. As
the guests exited I could hear plans being made for lunch, tennis, movies.
Already forgotten. Other plans being made. Life goes on...for some.
I had been able to stay for the whole affair and then some. This surprized
me. I had really expected to get called away. The lights were being turned off
so I evenutally got up, walked to the pulpit where ushers were getting ready
to close the lid (they paid no attention to me) and I looked down at the
tranquil face. They had not done her justice. No matter what they say, a
corpse doesn't look good. A dead face just looks like it's caked in make-up.
Her spirit was definitely gone, I was one hundred percent certain. "Good bye
old friend, I can't wait to be reunited with you in heaven." I kissed my
forehead and turned to the last, brightest light and went home.
Not to mention, I was still mad at her. I recalled our last argument too well.
So I stayed at the back watching the mourners enter and walk down the aisle
to view her body. So many exclamations of disbelief,no one had seen this
coming. If only she were here to see the crowd asimilating,maybe she'd have
stayed, maybe not. If only I could summon her back, point my finger at her and
say,"I told you so. See people really did care." Her spirit was willing to
stay but her flesh was weak. Only I had any influence on her and I lost. She
wouldn't listen to me. Her arguments were stronger. She was convinced God
would forgive her even if he didn't approve of her tactics. It wasn't the
absence of God in her life that caused her do to this, it was the failure to
continue with the meds that God had provided. It was user error, not the
manufacturer's.
Her "true" friends held each other for comfort. She should have
spoken to them earlier but people get uncomfortable with those kinds of
conversations, and it would have embarrassed her. There wasn't enough
experience in dealing with these topics despite the literature out there. I
hope now they will seek out that literature, she sure should have.
I was amazed at some of the faces I saw come in. I wanted to yell,"hypocrite",
and "murderer". They hadn't actually manually killed her body but they
masacered her spirit. They laughed at her. They teased her. They belittled her.
They made her feel invisible, unimportant. She had responded with good humor,
her mask a perfect fit to hide the pain and doubts and hurts. She had them
convinced she couldn't be bruised. She was tough, fun, outgoing. She did enjoy
a good laugh and applauded good retorts, but it was the sincere insults hidden
in humor that got to her. She had used humor as a coat of armor. If she had
just taken the mask off occasionally and tried honesty with some of these
people maybe she'd still be here. She had God on her side and followed the
rule of turning the other cheek but being only human this got old. Kids can be
cruel on the playground and it doesn't stop there. Cruel kids grow into cruel
adults. They weren't completely responsible for destroying her, because she had
a big part in it. She had to constantly fight her body's responses to low
hormones. She finally had discovered anti-depressants. As the body ages it
produces less and less of desirabe mood chemicals and needs a boost much like a
diabetic needs outside insulin, or someone needs thyroid hormone. It's not
shameful to be on pills. These pills gave her a boost but like anything they
can only do so much. She would feel better and lighten up on her meds, then
swing down to the pit of despair again. Why should one take meds just to feel
good around people? She would get to feeling blue and let the insults injure
her. But her mask did a good job. She would retaliate with a joke, good humor.
She wouldn't let the aggressor know they scored a point, that their blade had
found the target. Boy that was a fantastic mask, it was waterproof and
concealed the tears. It made people think she was invulnerable. "Oh, if we
didn't like you, we wouldn't tease you," or, "It's just her, it's okay." were
regular rejoinders. They took a pebble size hunk out of her soul with every
recital. "That's just her," when she wanted to be taken seriously, "That's just
her," when she blundered, "That's just her," when she tried to correct an
error. She was eaten in small bites. If she had seen this crowd maybe she would
have stayed.
They kept coming, friends (and foes) from church and from work. However, these
misty eyed people have short memories. In time this will be forgotten. Though
there is no one else like her someone else will be teased mercilessly and end
up the same way. Cruel kids, cruel adults. I could hear someone asking
questions, Why? How? What on earth for? The questions were useless because if
they could be answered it wouldn't reverse a thing. She would still be dead.
This was it the grand finale, the results of cruel kids grown up. She hadn't
left a note. It wouldn't have solved anything. Why did they deserve any
answers? It would have been like throwing pearls before swine.
The eulogy was nice, flowery, vaguely generic. It hit the good points. Gave
the family hope of seeing her again. Tried to educate the attendees on the
subject of her method of death. Created sobbing. Said good bye. Left the body
just as dead. The words should have been spoken when she could hear them. She
might not have believed them, though. Actions speak louder than words.
I watched as the figures filed past the coffin. They said good bye. Some
cried. Oh, give me a break, you didn't even like her, I thought. Maybe they had
repented. There is hope for the next victim of depression. Some lingered, and
were genuinely respectful. Some just went to follow the crowd. It really was
her, they all thought." If we didn't like you we wouldn't tease you,"
became, "We liked you, why didn't you let us help you?" It was incredibly
touching.
The family went last. I couldn't bear watching them so I closed my eyes. They
were closest to her and they still had not noticed her broken spirit as they
were caught up in their own problems. I didn't feel real sorrow for them. As
the guests exited I could hear plans being made for lunch, tennis, movies.
Already forgotten. Other plans being made. Life goes on...for some.
I had been able to stay for the whole affair and then some. This surprized
me. I had really expected to get called away. The lights were being turned off
so I evenutally got up, walked to the pulpit where ushers were getting ready
to close the lid (they paid no attention to me) and I looked down at the
tranquil face. They had not done her justice. No matter what they say, a
corpse doesn't look good. A dead face just looks like it's caked in make-up.
Her spirit was definitely gone, I was one hundred percent certain. "Good bye
old friend, I can't wait to be reunited with you in heaven." I kissed my
forehead and turned to the last, brightest light and went home.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Tin cans
I just love walking my dogs, Tessie and Shep, it serves several purposes, exercise for all and tin can collecting. Throwing on any old shirt and some baggy sweat pants, (that have gotten baggier over the months due to recent weight loss), triggers my pets into action. They get excited about sniffing out new frontiers and this morning was no different as they tugged me along on their retractable leashes.
It wasn't till I spied several tin cans that I realized I forgot to bring my customary bag for collections. Tin can be recycled and it motivates me to clean up the streets, if only there were resources for all the other recyclable trash dumped by the wayside! I can only carry so much and my city doesn't have a recycling program., (shame on them) but if they did I’d have to walk towing a red wagon with one hand while gripping two leashes in the other. I suppose then I’d have to spring for some new pants since one hand right now is necessary to keep hitching my baggy bottoms up.
Picking up the tin cans I drained them of the residual liquid, beer, crushed them with my foot and stuffed them in my sweat jacket‘s pocket. Don't gasp, it's really my husband's work coat, soiled and splattered with years of paint and oil. A little beer aroma will add to the coat's character.
I turned the corner and saw my pastor getting his morning paper off the yard. Before he noticed me my dogs caught the scent of something exciting ,pulled me off my feet and I landed on my....I just landed.Brother Mike rushed over to help me and scrunched his nose up. He obviously detected the sweet essence of the empty beer cans soaking my (husband's) pocket, and with great self control resisted mentioning it. One of the tin cans pushed its head up above the pocket border revealing a Budweiser logo. I gave it a little encouraging push back down. I could read his thoughts however,” Drinking on Sunday morning!" I impishly refused to divulge the truth. If he wanted to believe I was a Sunday morning drunk let him!! It adds to my character which is difficult to tarnish. I just realized I think I still had last night’s smeared eye make up on, he might suspect I hadn’t even been home yet. I thanked him with my best imitation of slurred speech and promising to see him in church in a few hours, I staggered off, hitching up my pants.
At the neighborhood car wash I stooped over the trash bins looking for a plastic bag and more tin cans. This is the perfect spot for mining tin. I was in luck, a plastic bag was on top so I didn't have to dig through the trash. I have some limits. A man washing his truck nearby walked over , petted my canine friends and handed me a five dollar bill for a descent meal, after I hitched my pants up. Now being a working girl I had a modest income, but dressed in my walking costume; baggy pants, dirty work jacket, shoes that Tessie has used for teething and smelling of beer I acted grateful for the man's charity. I could have been a poster child for Good Will stores. I didn't want to embarrass him with the truth, that I was just indulging in a recycling spree. Besides, it's more blessed to give than to receive so I was already on the loosing end of the stick!
I hit real gold on the next street, lots of coke cans emptied by a construction crew littered their work site. I filled my bag up with untold riches and proceeded to the corner Shopping Mart where I customarily reverse my steps homeward.
At the mart a man was loading his trunk with cartons of coke! Wow, more gold!
“What do you do with your empties?” I queried, my eyes glinting with lust.
“Throw them away,” he responded , surveying me with a unfriendly look, attempting to discourage more conversation.
“Hey, can I get your address so I can come collect them when you’re done?”
“What’s going on here?” a woman asked approaching the passenger door.
“This dame just asked me for my address,” the man explained nodding in my direction as I hitched my pants up while my dogs baptized his tires.
The woman sized me up, “Take a bath and get some decent clothes, then maybe you can get your own man, darling.” She suggested climbing into the car beside her companion as he backed up. “Those pants aren’t you, you really should dress your age!”
“Well, I never!” I muttered, not really caring but enjoying the imaginary conversation that was taking place in the disappearing vehicle.
Retracing my return trip with a slight detour down another street to by pass my minister’s house some more beer cans fell prey to me. These were still partially full. I drained two, deposited them in my sack and drained the third as I walked, swinging it from side to side to empty it quickly. Of course who else but my pastor drove by on his way to his church office? He slowed down and stared at me with the tell tale eer can in my hand that I saluted him with as he passed. His eyes wer very vocal! I could see him shake his head in disappointment.
At home I cleaned up, and I do clean up good, I’m pretty darn attractive when I shower , wear proper fitting clothes , and freshen up my old makeup. Yep, I'm pretty darn attractive, (it off sets my inherent modesty). You’d never know I just came off a Saturday night drinking binge.
At church the minister explained that he had been suddenly inspired to change his planned morning sermon and gave a rousing sermon on the dangers and wiles of fermented beverages, directing several obvious glances at me, kindling some whispering nearby. My husband, ever appropriate, and usually totally oblivious, cast his eyes curiously at me without turning his head, not wanting to draw more attention to us. I merely raised my eyebrows and shrugged. I could feel my halo tilting dangerously to the side. I was being lectured but I loved it! I sat there fully regal, meeting the reverend’s unswerving stares head on. He wouldn’t see me cringe in repentance. I had nothing to repent of except devilish delight in encouraging his misunderstanding.
When we were dismissed I walked by the vicar as he stood shaking hands at the exit. I squirted breath freshener in my mouth and with exaggerated breaths pumped his hand and exclaimed, “Wonderful message, Brother Mike!” I could tell he was trying to catch a whiff of beer through the scent of spearmint. He shook my hand unenthusiastically. I sensed he was praying for me as he gripped my hand longer than necessary, that’s alright, I prayed back!
On the way home from my public counseling session my husband and I stopped at the receptacle placed on the corner by Habitat for Humanity and deposited all the tin cans I had collected on this weeks doggy strolls. They recycle the cans into nails and wood for building projects, which helps to recycle lives into more productive helpers for the project! I love this recycling business! I almost want to have a celebratory drink! Heck, if I'm judged guilty I might as well.......
P.S The five dollars I got at the car wash? I mailed it in to Habitat for Humanity. I cleared my conscious of guilt.
Math 7:1-5
Rom 2:1-11
Rom 14:4
1 Cor 5:9-13
1 Cor. 11:27-32
It wasn't till I spied several tin cans that I realized I forgot to bring my customary bag for collections. Tin can be recycled and it motivates me to clean up the streets, if only there were resources for all the other recyclable trash dumped by the wayside! I can only carry so much and my city doesn't have a recycling program., (shame on them) but if they did I’d have to walk towing a red wagon with one hand while gripping two leashes in the other. I suppose then I’d have to spring for some new pants since one hand right now is necessary to keep hitching my baggy bottoms up.
Picking up the tin cans I drained them of the residual liquid, beer, crushed them with my foot and stuffed them in my sweat jacket‘s pocket. Don't gasp, it's really my husband's work coat, soiled and splattered with years of paint and oil. A little beer aroma will add to the coat's character.
I turned the corner and saw my pastor getting his morning paper off the yard. Before he noticed me my dogs caught the scent of something exciting ,pulled me off my feet and I landed on my....I just landed.Brother Mike rushed over to help me and scrunched his nose up. He obviously detected the sweet essence of the empty beer cans soaking my (husband's) pocket, and with great self control resisted mentioning it. One of the tin cans pushed its head up above the pocket border revealing a Budweiser logo. I gave it a little encouraging push back down. I could read his thoughts however,” Drinking on Sunday morning!" I impishly refused to divulge the truth. If he wanted to believe I was a Sunday morning drunk let him!! It adds to my character which is difficult to tarnish. I just realized I think I still had last night’s smeared eye make up on, he might suspect I hadn’t even been home yet. I thanked him with my best imitation of slurred speech and promising to see him in church in a few hours, I staggered off, hitching up my pants.
At the neighborhood car wash I stooped over the trash bins looking for a plastic bag and more tin cans. This is the perfect spot for mining tin. I was in luck, a plastic bag was on top so I didn't have to dig through the trash. I have some limits. A man washing his truck nearby walked over , petted my canine friends and handed me a five dollar bill for a descent meal, after I hitched my pants up. Now being a working girl I had a modest income, but dressed in my walking costume; baggy pants, dirty work jacket, shoes that Tessie has used for teething and smelling of beer I acted grateful for the man's charity. I could have been a poster child for Good Will stores. I didn't want to embarrass him with the truth, that I was just indulging in a recycling spree. Besides, it's more blessed to give than to receive so I was already on the loosing end of the stick!
I hit real gold on the next street, lots of coke cans emptied by a construction crew littered their work site. I filled my bag up with untold riches and proceeded to the corner Shopping Mart where I customarily reverse my steps homeward.
At the mart a man was loading his trunk with cartons of coke! Wow, more gold!
“What do you do with your empties?” I queried, my eyes glinting with lust.
“Throw them away,” he responded , surveying me with a unfriendly look, attempting to discourage more conversation.
“Hey, can I get your address so I can come collect them when you’re done?”
“What’s going on here?” a woman asked approaching the passenger door.
“This dame just asked me for my address,” the man explained nodding in my direction as I hitched my pants up while my dogs baptized his tires.
The woman sized me up, “Take a bath and get some decent clothes, then maybe you can get your own man, darling.” She suggested climbing into the car beside her companion as he backed up. “Those pants aren’t you, you really should dress your age!”
“Well, I never!” I muttered, not really caring but enjoying the imaginary conversation that was taking place in the disappearing vehicle.
Retracing my return trip with a slight detour down another street to by pass my minister’s house some more beer cans fell prey to me. These were still partially full. I drained two, deposited them in my sack and drained the third as I walked, swinging it from side to side to empty it quickly. Of course who else but my pastor drove by on his way to his church office? He slowed down and stared at me with the tell tale eer can in my hand that I saluted him with as he passed. His eyes wer very vocal! I could see him shake his head in disappointment.
At home I cleaned up, and I do clean up good, I’m pretty darn attractive when I shower , wear proper fitting clothes , and freshen up my old makeup. Yep, I'm pretty darn attractive, (it off sets my inherent modesty). You’d never know I just came off a Saturday night drinking binge.
At church the minister explained that he had been suddenly inspired to change his planned morning sermon and gave a rousing sermon on the dangers and wiles of fermented beverages, directing several obvious glances at me, kindling some whispering nearby. My husband, ever appropriate, and usually totally oblivious, cast his eyes curiously at me without turning his head, not wanting to draw more attention to us. I merely raised my eyebrows and shrugged. I could feel my halo tilting dangerously to the side. I was being lectured but I loved it! I sat there fully regal, meeting the reverend’s unswerving stares head on. He wouldn’t see me cringe in repentance. I had nothing to repent of except devilish delight in encouraging his misunderstanding.
When we were dismissed I walked by the vicar as he stood shaking hands at the exit. I squirted breath freshener in my mouth and with exaggerated breaths pumped his hand and exclaimed, “Wonderful message, Brother Mike!” I could tell he was trying to catch a whiff of beer through the scent of spearmint. He shook my hand unenthusiastically. I sensed he was praying for me as he gripped my hand longer than necessary, that’s alright, I prayed back!
On the way home from my public counseling session my husband and I stopped at the receptacle placed on the corner by Habitat for Humanity and deposited all the tin cans I had collected on this weeks doggy strolls. They recycle the cans into nails and wood for building projects, which helps to recycle lives into more productive helpers for the project! I love this recycling business! I almost want to have a celebratory drink! Heck, if I'm judged guilty I might as well.......
P.S The five dollars I got at the car wash? I mailed it in to Habitat for Humanity. I cleared my conscious of guilt.
Math 7:1-5
Rom 2:1-11
Rom 14:4
1 Cor 5:9-13
1 Cor. 11:27-32
The visit
The phone rang without thought of the time. No, the person at the other end was to blame the phone can’t tell time. I didn't even know who to swear at, the caller I.D view box announced, unknown caller, unknown number. If it was a telemarker at this hour he'll/she'll rue the day she made this connection.
"Hello."
"Hi darling." A familiar voice.
"Who's this?" My senses were sharpening, I was preparing for a shock. That voice....
"Oh, come on, you've got to be kidding. Surely you know your own mother!"
"Yeah, but ...."
"I don't have much time for idle chit chat, How about I come for a visit?"
"What? How.."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"Sure, sure..." I sputtered.
"I'm not coming alone. Be there soon. Love and kisses."
The sound of a disconnect. I stared at the hand piece in my hand. I followed the cords to the wall outlet. I tapped the reset button and got the dial tone, it seemed to be in working order.
Buzzzzzz. The doorbell. That didn't take long.
Answering the door I greeted my mom, "Did you call from a cell phone?" I asked.
"A cell what? Oh, never mind, this new technology is past me. Can we come in or are you just going to block the door?"I looked past her at five or six strangers. Well, not really strangers. They had a well-known characteristic appearance.
"Mom, you're dead!" I blurted.
"So, that's what they told you and you believed it?"
"I saw you get buried."
"That wasn't me. Did you see me? How could you not know it wasn't me?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's a lie honey, I'm not dead. Everyone lied to you." Mom and her shadows walked past me to the sofa. She leaned close to my ear, "They're not dead either, don't tell them they are, they'll laugh you out of town."
"They lied. Who lied? Why did they lie?"
"I obviously didn't die, how else can you see me. Not one of us is dead. We just moved on. The world lied. I've told you never to believe the world, they are all against us."
I couldn't sit. This was too much. "Who are these people?"
"Get on the ball baby, you're embarrassing me? This is my mother, and her mother and some of their brothers."
I decided it was time to sit down... without a chair. Either the floor came up to me or I went down to it. It was hard to tell. "Where did you move to?"
"Home. We were just passing through here. I want you to come see me when you run out of time."
"Run out of time? That doesn't make sense."
"There you go again. I raised you proper; I did my best to raise you right. I raised you by the good book. You better come see me; it's only fitting to be with your love ones."
Her family (my family?) was walking around the house, touching things, like the television, oven, washer and dryer, radios, microwave and computer. They had everything operating. They were having a jolly time attempting to explain things to each other.
Great granny shook her head. "Wish I'd had some of these gadgets when I was raising my parcel of brats! Oh to hear music while doing the chores. Washing and drying clothes inside, what will they think of next?"
One of the uncles was investigating the bookshelf. "Lookie here, those newcomers were right, they have a whole bunch of new bibles. The King James is all I had to preach by. How do they know these are accurate?"
"How do you know King James was accurate?"
"If it was good enough for the apostle Paul, it's good enough for me!"
I started to speak but thought better of it. I was at a loss. To repeat a phrase from a popular movie, "I'm seeing dead people, and they don't know they're dead."
Something started ringing. But what? Every thing powered by electricity was on. I sure couldn't distinguish the more recent sound from anything. I reached up to the table beside where mom was sitting and attempted to locate the phone. My hand hit something and I pushed the off/on switch. Blinking, everyone was gone. The alarm clock read 4:30, past time to get up. I was on the floor.
"Don't hit the snooze button again, please." My husband groaned from his side of the bed, head under pillow. "Twice was enough."
That accounted for the phone call and doorbell. Mom's whole visit lasted eighteen minutes, the duration of two snoozes but it was a quality eighteen minutes to see family again. She is right; I know that wasn't her in the casket. Just her body, she really did go home, I'm glad she has company there until I meet her again. Thank you Jesus for letting her come for a visit, if only in my dreams.
"Hello."
"Hi darling." A familiar voice.
"Who's this?" My senses were sharpening, I was preparing for a shock. That voice....
"Oh, come on, you've got to be kidding. Surely you know your own mother!"
"Yeah, but ...."
"I don't have much time for idle chit chat, How about I come for a visit?"
"What? How.."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"Sure, sure..." I sputtered.
"I'm not coming alone. Be there soon. Love and kisses."
The sound of a disconnect. I stared at the hand piece in my hand. I followed the cords to the wall outlet. I tapped the reset button and got the dial tone, it seemed to be in working order.
Buzzzzzz. The doorbell. That didn't take long.
Answering the door I greeted my mom, "Did you call from a cell phone?" I asked.
"A cell what? Oh, never mind, this new technology is past me. Can we come in or are you just going to block the door?"I looked past her at five or six strangers. Well, not really strangers. They had a well-known characteristic appearance.
"Mom, you're dead!" I blurted.
"So, that's what they told you and you believed it?"
"I saw you get buried."
"That wasn't me. Did you see me? How could you not know it wasn't me?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's a lie honey, I'm not dead. Everyone lied to you." Mom and her shadows walked past me to the sofa. She leaned close to my ear, "They're not dead either, don't tell them they are, they'll laugh you out of town."
"They lied. Who lied? Why did they lie?"
"I obviously didn't die, how else can you see me. Not one of us is dead. We just moved on. The world lied. I've told you never to believe the world, they are all against us."
I couldn't sit. This was too much. "Who are these people?"
"Get on the ball baby, you're embarrassing me? This is my mother, and her mother and some of their brothers."
I decided it was time to sit down... without a chair. Either the floor came up to me or I went down to it. It was hard to tell. "Where did you move to?"
"Home. We were just passing through here. I want you to come see me when you run out of time."
"Run out of time? That doesn't make sense."
"There you go again. I raised you proper; I did my best to raise you right. I raised you by the good book. You better come see me; it's only fitting to be with your love ones."
Her family (my family?) was walking around the house, touching things, like the television, oven, washer and dryer, radios, microwave and computer. They had everything operating. They were having a jolly time attempting to explain things to each other.
Great granny shook her head. "Wish I'd had some of these gadgets when I was raising my parcel of brats! Oh to hear music while doing the chores. Washing and drying clothes inside, what will they think of next?"
One of the uncles was investigating the bookshelf. "Lookie here, those newcomers were right, they have a whole bunch of new bibles. The King James is all I had to preach by. How do they know these are accurate?"
"How do you know King James was accurate?"
"If it was good enough for the apostle Paul, it's good enough for me!"
I started to speak but thought better of it. I was at a loss. To repeat a phrase from a popular movie, "I'm seeing dead people, and they don't know they're dead."
Something started ringing. But what? Every thing powered by electricity was on. I sure couldn't distinguish the more recent sound from anything. I reached up to the table beside where mom was sitting and attempted to locate the phone. My hand hit something and I pushed the off/on switch. Blinking, everyone was gone. The alarm clock read 4:30, past time to get up. I was on the floor.
"Don't hit the snooze button again, please." My husband groaned from his side of the bed, head under pillow. "Twice was enough."
That accounted for the phone call and doorbell. Mom's whole visit lasted eighteen minutes, the duration of two snoozes but it was a quality eighteen minutes to see family again. She is right; I know that wasn't her in the casket. Just her body, she really did go home, I'm glad she has company there until I meet her again. Thank you Jesus for letting her come for a visit, if only in my dreams.
Counterfeit
In the past two months time has done two things. Sped up and slowed down, simultaneously. It started on mother’s day when I went to visit my mom. I brought her some lovely white roses for the occasion. It was on that day I met Harold. I’d been looking for a companion, some one to share my dreams and life with, someone to guide me and help me with decisions, and wall-la there he was. Just lots down from mom’s place, he was hanging around his yard, watching me. There was an immediate attraction. We kept our relationship hidden from mom by spending most of our time at my place. I felt like a teenager running around on the sly, though I wasn’t much older. (None of your business how much older!) I knew she wouldn’t approve of Harold, not because he, himself, was so much more mature than me but because he was strongly New Age and she raised me a staunch Baptist. No, that’s not quite right, she raised me as a Christian in the Baptist church, but I had started experimenting with different philosophies. New Age values and teachings were taught as erroneous and deviant in my old church home. Time sped up because there was someone to share it with, in eight weeks long we learned years of each other’s lives, in two short months we became inseparable. Harold was too good to be true. That is the scary part. We were so obsessed with each other, he had decided he wanted me to move in to his home with him, he practically lived at my apartment anyway. It now became apparent, to me at least, I should tell my mom about him. He however still wanted to keep our liaison clandestine.
No matter, I decided on mom’s birthday I’d go and confide in her about us. She and I had a longer history of sharing life events than Harold and I did. I was hoping for her approval, knowing I’d get a homily. Harold was still adamant we keep our bond hush-hush, it was too fresh, too new. We needed time to take root and grow, was his strong argument.
The rain was coming down in sheets making driving from my place hazardous yet Harold continued to plead the cause of secrecy. Why was he so afraid of mom’s reaction? He in fact was so distracting that he diverted my attention from my surroundings. He was good at that under any circumstances but it proved to be extremely dangerous in bad weather! I parked and stepped out in front of the only oncoming car. The look in the driver’s face was as incredulous as mine was when we realized simultaneously what was about to occur. The car couldn’t stop fast enough on the wet asphalt. Smack! Bang!
I hit the ground amid the sounds of screaming (mine), and squealing brakes. I felt the pavement smack my head. My vision blurred but it seemed I caught a gleeful smile on Harold’s face. Then my surroundings became hazy, hazier, and then wholly black.
I don’t know how long it took me to regain consciousness but enough time had elapsed that I was no longer on the concrete and it was no longer raining. I opened my eyes slowly and rotated my neck and shoulder blades. Then I wiggled my toes and fingers. I sat up cautiously then stood. I paced the floor testing out my balance. I was fine. No aches or pains. Some one had changed my clothes. I was in a dry, clean white robe so soft I could swear it was made of feathers. I pulled the neckline away and peeked down the front, nothing; I was absolutely a la natural under the gown. No signs of injuries or road rash.
“Well, I’m glad to have you here with us, back among the living” a male voice stated, startling me. It wasn’t Harold‘s. There was a figure standing in a shaft of light so bright I couldn’t make out his face.
Suddenly my mother burst into the room, flustered. She looked dressed for a party; her white dress glittered with gold sprinkles and stardust. She had several tiaras on her head making her look slightly comical.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Mom asked, frantic. “You’re early!” How could I be early, I didn’t tell her I was coming, so she shouldn’t have been expecting me.
“I don’t know where I am, or how I got here.” I answered looking around the room I found myself in; it was beautiful, filled with priceless ornaments. Pictures hung on the walls representing a long line of ancestors, culminating in a picture of a couple smiling winsomely, dressed in …nothing, but tastefully concealed by bushes. There was a picture of the present young man standing next to a what I assumed was his father, as the cameraman didn’t adjust the shutter speed properly and all that developed was a big bright spot.
“That picture doesn’t do Dad justice, but I’m told that seeing me is like seeing Dad, we’re practically duplicates. And to answer how you got here, my servant carried you in; we couldn’t let you lay in the street, now could we.” The voice explained moving closer, bringing the light with him. Was it a stage light? It seemed to stay centered on him. I noticed no light fixtures on the ceiling.
“Where’s Harold?” Surely he wouldn’t’ let some stranger take me into his house alone and change my clothes, he was pretty possessive of me.
“His kind isn’t welcome in my father’s house.” The young man informed me, not bothering to contain his distain.
The arrogance of this Man, insulting my friends before meeting them and I said as much.
“Darling! Don’t be so rude,” Mother cried. “This young man saved your life and brought you into his father’s house, ” Mom was wringing her hands, “This is all wrong.”
“There, there, it will be all right,” the young man comforted my mother, patting her shoulder. Who was this man that acted so familiar with my mom! Then he looked me squarely in the eye. “Your friend, Harold, is an imposter. He wants to bring you down with him. He is no good for you.” Well, excuse me, just get to the point, will you, I thought to myself. What nerve, how dare this man act like he owns me!
“Don’t talk to me about Harold, you know nothing about him!” My attitude was becoming quite charged. I wouldn’t discuss Harold with a stranger until I had a chance to talk to mother about him…..in private.
“Honey, he’s right, I know all about Harold, the real Harold is a marvelous man, we play in a band together, and the one you’re with is an imposter.”
“Imposter!” I was dumbfounded. “Why would he want to deceive me?”
“That’s the agenda of New Agers.” the man explained, “It is really an old religion, founded way before Abraham was called out of Ur to follow the true God. It is based on communicating with devils, not real people. ”
“Oh give me a break, that is what Harold warned me people would say!” I responded. I don’t know why I was defending him; he wasn’t here with me at my side where he should be after being hit by a car. If he had really wanted me as bad as he claimed he wouldn’t have allowed me to be carried away by a stranger’s servant. Speaking of servant’s who here needed a servant anyway?
There was knock on the door and a head popped in.
“Did I hear my name?”
“Harold, come join us!” Man invited. A elderly man walked in with a spring to his steps that belied his obvious age. He face was devoid of wrinkles or age spots, but his hair was a glossy white. He was dressed in turn of the century clothing. Which century I couldn’t ascertain.
“This isn’t my Harold.” I proclaimed. I mean Harold had more years on him than I did but at least we were in the same century.
“That cad has assumed my identity without my permission. “ Harold exclaimed slamming a cane down on the chair next to him for emphasis . The cane was obviously for appearances, to make him appear dapper. “That devil follows no code of ethics, I’m the victim of an identity theft scam that has spanned the ages. I won’t be a part of it. Don’t let him fool you!”
I had been bamboozled. The youthful man spent some time educating me on the ways of the New Agers, while mom stood by nodding in agreement. She had tried to teach me these things years ago but being only human I had refused to listen to her. Now it made sense. After all demons have been around since Adam and Eve so they could just exploit someone’s life script and incorporate it into their lives, the perfect deception. Don’t they know about HIPPA! Privacy rules!
My head was beginning to ache, my body started to hurt, the room lights were dimming and gradually I started to feel water dripping in my face. I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the pavement once again, the warm robe replaced with my soggy, torn and bloodied outfit,. How rude!
Umbrellas were being held over me and a thermal blanket covered my very sore carcass. I was being instructed to not move as someone applied a collar to my neck. Log rolled onto my side, I was placed on a cot that was lifted to the waiting ambulance where three knock dead paramedics climbed in with me (pardon the pun), was I back in heaven or what?. You think the young man could have waited until my body was already in the nice warm emergency transportation before he had his servant return my soul. I looked around for my mother; I saw her standing by her house in the distance, a few rows onto the green cemetery lawn, where she had moved years ago. Harold was gone. This is where he had wanted me to move! Had he been behind the car accident? It was after all he who had deflected my attention from the oncoming vehicle, whose owner was now at my side apologizing profusely. He kept repeating he hadn’t seen me until it was too late. How could that have been, this isn’t a high traffic area. I doubt I would see Harold again. Having learned a serious lesson, I wouldn’t be inviting him back to share my live. I had just met my true spirit guide and vowed to study harder to recognize reality versus myth. No myth was too mild and not and accurate description; I would study harder to recognize reality versus the counterfeit.
I recognized one of the paramedics from the singles group at my old church. I wasn’t to far gone to notice the absence of a wedding band. He leaned over and asked me how I felt, a heavy gold cross hanging form his neck.
“ I feel like I was just hit by a car!” I croaked. "At the least I think I need mouth to mouth!"
Duet. 18:9-14John 10:28,30John 14:16-20John 14:21 John 4:1Rev 20:12Rev 21:8Rev 21:23
No matter, I decided on mom’s birthday I’d go and confide in her about us. She and I had a longer history of sharing life events than Harold and I did. I was hoping for her approval, knowing I’d get a homily. Harold was still adamant we keep our bond hush-hush, it was too fresh, too new. We needed time to take root and grow, was his strong argument.
The rain was coming down in sheets making driving from my place hazardous yet Harold continued to plead the cause of secrecy. Why was he so afraid of mom’s reaction? He in fact was so distracting that he diverted my attention from my surroundings. He was good at that under any circumstances but it proved to be extremely dangerous in bad weather! I parked and stepped out in front of the only oncoming car. The look in the driver’s face was as incredulous as mine was when we realized simultaneously what was about to occur. The car couldn’t stop fast enough on the wet asphalt. Smack! Bang!
I hit the ground amid the sounds of screaming (mine), and squealing brakes. I felt the pavement smack my head. My vision blurred but it seemed I caught a gleeful smile on Harold’s face. Then my surroundings became hazy, hazier, and then wholly black.
I don’t know how long it took me to regain consciousness but enough time had elapsed that I was no longer on the concrete and it was no longer raining. I opened my eyes slowly and rotated my neck and shoulder blades. Then I wiggled my toes and fingers. I sat up cautiously then stood. I paced the floor testing out my balance. I was fine. No aches or pains. Some one had changed my clothes. I was in a dry, clean white robe so soft I could swear it was made of feathers. I pulled the neckline away and peeked down the front, nothing; I was absolutely a la natural under the gown. No signs of injuries or road rash.
“Well, I’m glad to have you here with us, back among the living” a male voice stated, startling me. It wasn’t Harold‘s. There was a figure standing in a shaft of light so bright I couldn’t make out his face.
Suddenly my mother burst into the room, flustered. She looked dressed for a party; her white dress glittered with gold sprinkles and stardust. She had several tiaras on her head making her look slightly comical.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Mom asked, frantic. “You’re early!” How could I be early, I didn’t tell her I was coming, so she shouldn’t have been expecting me.
“I don’t know where I am, or how I got here.” I answered looking around the room I found myself in; it was beautiful, filled with priceless ornaments. Pictures hung on the walls representing a long line of ancestors, culminating in a picture of a couple smiling winsomely, dressed in …nothing, but tastefully concealed by bushes. There was a picture of the present young man standing next to a what I assumed was his father, as the cameraman didn’t adjust the shutter speed properly and all that developed was a big bright spot.
“That picture doesn’t do Dad justice, but I’m told that seeing me is like seeing Dad, we’re practically duplicates. And to answer how you got here, my servant carried you in; we couldn’t let you lay in the street, now could we.” The voice explained moving closer, bringing the light with him. Was it a stage light? It seemed to stay centered on him. I noticed no light fixtures on the ceiling.
“Where’s Harold?” Surely he wouldn’t’ let some stranger take me into his house alone and change my clothes, he was pretty possessive of me.
“His kind isn’t welcome in my father’s house.” The young man informed me, not bothering to contain his distain.
The arrogance of this Man, insulting my friends before meeting them and I said as much.
“Darling! Don’t be so rude,” Mother cried. “This young man saved your life and brought you into his father’s house, ” Mom was wringing her hands, “This is all wrong.”
“There, there, it will be all right,” the young man comforted my mother, patting her shoulder. Who was this man that acted so familiar with my mom! Then he looked me squarely in the eye. “Your friend, Harold, is an imposter. He wants to bring you down with him. He is no good for you.” Well, excuse me, just get to the point, will you, I thought to myself. What nerve, how dare this man act like he owns me!
“Don’t talk to me about Harold, you know nothing about him!” My attitude was becoming quite charged. I wouldn’t discuss Harold with a stranger until I had a chance to talk to mother about him…..in private.
“Honey, he’s right, I know all about Harold, the real Harold is a marvelous man, we play in a band together, and the one you’re with is an imposter.”
“Imposter!” I was dumbfounded. “Why would he want to deceive me?”
“That’s the agenda of New Agers.” the man explained, “It is really an old religion, founded way before Abraham was called out of Ur to follow the true God. It is based on communicating with devils, not real people. ”
“Oh give me a break, that is what Harold warned me people would say!” I responded. I don’t know why I was defending him; he wasn’t here with me at my side where he should be after being hit by a car. If he had really wanted me as bad as he claimed he wouldn’t have allowed me to be carried away by a stranger’s servant. Speaking of servant’s who here needed a servant anyway?
There was knock on the door and a head popped in.
“Did I hear my name?”
“Harold, come join us!” Man invited. A elderly man walked in with a spring to his steps that belied his obvious age. He face was devoid of wrinkles or age spots, but his hair was a glossy white. He was dressed in turn of the century clothing. Which century I couldn’t ascertain.
“This isn’t my Harold.” I proclaimed. I mean Harold had more years on him than I did but at least we were in the same century.
“That cad has assumed my identity without my permission. “ Harold exclaimed slamming a cane down on the chair next to him for emphasis . The cane was obviously for appearances, to make him appear dapper. “That devil follows no code of ethics, I’m the victim of an identity theft scam that has spanned the ages. I won’t be a part of it. Don’t let him fool you!”
I had been bamboozled. The youthful man spent some time educating me on the ways of the New Agers, while mom stood by nodding in agreement. She had tried to teach me these things years ago but being only human I had refused to listen to her. Now it made sense. After all demons have been around since Adam and Eve so they could just exploit someone’s life script and incorporate it into their lives, the perfect deception. Don’t they know about HIPPA! Privacy rules!
My head was beginning to ache, my body started to hurt, the room lights were dimming and gradually I started to feel water dripping in my face. I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the pavement once again, the warm robe replaced with my soggy, torn and bloodied outfit,. How rude!
Umbrellas were being held over me and a thermal blanket covered my very sore carcass. I was being instructed to not move as someone applied a collar to my neck. Log rolled onto my side, I was placed on a cot that was lifted to the waiting ambulance where three knock dead paramedics climbed in with me (pardon the pun), was I back in heaven or what?. You think the young man could have waited until my body was already in the nice warm emergency transportation before he had his servant return my soul. I looked around for my mother; I saw her standing by her house in the distance, a few rows onto the green cemetery lawn, where she had moved years ago. Harold was gone. This is where he had wanted me to move! Had he been behind the car accident? It was after all he who had deflected my attention from the oncoming vehicle, whose owner was now at my side apologizing profusely. He kept repeating he hadn’t seen me until it was too late. How could that have been, this isn’t a high traffic area. I doubt I would see Harold again. Having learned a serious lesson, I wouldn’t be inviting him back to share my live. I had just met my true spirit guide and vowed to study harder to recognize reality versus myth. No myth was too mild and not and accurate description; I would study harder to recognize reality versus the counterfeit.
I recognized one of the paramedics from the singles group at my old church. I wasn’t to far gone to notice the absence of a wedding band. He leaned over and asked me how I felt, a heavy gold cross hanging form his neck.
“ I feel like I was just hit by a car!” I croaked. "At the least I think I need mouth to mouth!"
Duet. 18:9-14John 10:28,30John 14:16-20John 14:21 John 4:1Rev 20:12Rev 21:8Rev 21:23
My absolute last Halloween
The fog was so thick it was like driving through cotton. My headlights were reflecting back to me so brightly they were blinding me. Fog on a cold October night, with a light mist falling, was just what a person with night vision impairment needed. My daughter had talked me into going to a Halloween party, against my better judgment. I don't adhere to Halloween as a proper festival. So here we were, two lost zombies.
"Mom, I don't think we're on the road anymore." My daughter announced.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I don't think they grow corn in the middle of the street."
With that announcement my car started to go flip flop, flip flop. I pulled over (not willing to admit to my offspring she might be right) and stopped the engine. Circling the car I found, not one, but two flats, and many stalks of corn. Great, one spare and two flats! We were going to have to hoof it. I opened the trunk and got out my emergency stash. I carried walking shoes, water bottles, flashlights, umbrellas and blankets for such and event, I lose my way frequently. I had read it was best to not stay near your car when it breaks down but to get a distance between you and it while waiting for help. The first people to stop could intend harm instead of help. A lone woman (or two) in a car, even if it's locked could be attacked by a window breaking malevolent.
"How could you get us lost? Where's your GPS devise?" my daughter, Cindy, complained as we trudged through the cornfield. Our flashlights were useless in the filmy air, but the umbrellas were handy.
"I can't find it. It won't tell me where it is."
Some thing was ordering me to go the other way, but I paid it no attention. Our dog, Scruffy, wasn't thrilled about my decision to hike forward, visually impaired by the impenetrable mist. He stopped frequently to sit and look up eagerly at something behind us. If I didn't know better it seemed like the hair on his head got ruffled by an unseen hand occasionally; there must be a breeze.
Up ahead I made out the beginning of an uneven fence. The closer we got I saw broken gaps in it. As we got even closer I realized it wasn't a fence but rows of rocks. Even closer, I discovered the rocks were tombstones. This is getting better, fog, mist, dark, zombie costumes, a complaining teenager, a peculiar acting dog and now a cemetery. Hopefully we'd come on a church or office building with a phone I could use, even if I had to break in. I saw breaking and entering as acceptable at this point.
Little orbs of light were rising from the graves and streaking about. They grouped together into larger orbs and zig zagged in the same direction we were headed, further into the burial ground. Something told me to go back and Scruffy barked in agreement. Once again, I ignored my gut.
The orbs were intriguing. They weren't fireflies as I first suspected. I'd heard of these things before. Supposedly they were the dead making themselves known. Cindy was trembling and holding on to my arm as I stupidly continued onward. Up ahead I saw a bright blaze. Yea, people, maybe they had cell phones. We proceeded on. Weird moaning assaulted our ears. Something in me insisted I retreat and Scruffy seconded the motion. I disregarded my gut instincts one more time, pushing back useful feelings of apprehension with womanly curiosity.
.
Tombstones to my left, tombstones to my right. Tombstones behind me, tombstones ahead of me. Large grotesque statues were placed arbitrarily throughout. No way would I want to spend eternity with one of those things hovering over me. We were deeply entrenched in the home of the dead. Lights flickered here and there amassing in size, and numbers. I swear they were luring us onward as they swirled around us.
In front of us a huge mausoleum blocked my complete view of a brilliant blaze entrapped in a circle with several uncanny looking characters dancing about. Cindy and I hugged the wall and peered around the stone structure, timidly. Several figures were nude, some, with pasty white complexions had on black Gothic costumes and ebony black hair that matched black painted lips and eyes. They were undulating and chanting to the enlarging blaze. The blaze was evoking the participation of ghouls and goblins who eagerly acquiesced.
I actually recognized a few of the women from work. Ordinary people during the day, followers of Satan in their spare time!
The orbs of light skipped about erratically, growing larger and coalescing into a menacing ball that spun around revealing a hideous, laughing face. Some of the orbs formed hazy figures that floated nearby talking to members of a séance who were asking for love, career and revenge advice. This was a witch's coven! They had summoned Satan, his minions, and the spirits of the dead. Actually, Satan was fooling even his followers. These dead souls were in reality more of his evil cohorts imitating those that had died, after all demon's are master liars and know about the lives of those that passed on to glory well enough to deceive susceptible individuals. Boy, I wished I'd listened to that inner voice that warned me to not advance further! Hindsight always gets me into trouble. This was the night the veil between two worlds’s opened and evil spirits met with evil flesh. It was Halloween, Samhain, the sacred holiday of all who tread behind the Wicked One. We were face to face with Mr. D. Evil himself. He was making cameo appearances world wide on this, his night. Like Santa Claus he had numerous proxies. There was a tremendous amount of blood splashed about, with body parts of dismembered animals protruding from a cauldron in the center of a hexagon (Witchcraft rituals aren't for the faint hearted) I felt dinner repeating itself on me. From here on out I'm becoming a vegetarian.
My daughter, shaking tremendously, asked, "They burn virgins at these things, don't they?"
"That's what I hear."
"Good, I'm safe," she sighed.
I cast her sharp glance.
"I mean, you'll protect me, won't you?" She added hastily, covering her mouth.
"I will but only till we get home." I threatened.
How old was she now? Where did she and James go after school? I'd better do some research on this! There was a convent down the street from us. I started making plans; I wonder if they accept Baptists? If not, we'll convert.
One of the transparent bodies looked in our direction, scanning, searching, and sniffing. How he missed us, I don't know, but he appeared to look me right in the eye, but more through me, I should say. Some shadow had appeared that screened us from his vision. I had the strangest sensation of being enveloped in feathers. Scruffy was straining to run but something pulled on his collar preventing him from revealing our presence. The face in the giant ball zoomed in on us. I uttered the name of Jesus in defense and the face shrank back, recoiling in fear. (Anyway, I hoped it was the name of Jesus that threatened the evil one and not my lovely countenance.) The great destroyer trembled. My gut told me to make a mad dash for it, and this time I hearkened to the promptings. Like Peter's stroll on water I doubted my strength would prevail.
Grabbing Cindy's wrist I whirled us both in the direction of the car. Unfortunately both our flashlight batteries died at once. Dying in a cemetery, coincidental? It was hard to follow our footsteps in the murkiness but we held our own. I could hear people in pursuit, hurling profane curses at us. They may not have seen us but they knew we were present; at least our flashlights weren't giving us away. I tripped over what felt like a foot and fell into a hole. Cindy landed on top of me, followed by Scruffy who seemed to be tossed in.
"Why'd you shove me?" she wailed, wiping mud out of her mouth.
"I didn't shove you, why did you trip me?" I questioned.
"I didn't trip you!" Cindy responded
"Who threw Scruffy in!" We added in unison.
Footsteps pounded past us overhead. What was this hole doing in the middle of nowhere. Eek, its a grave! There we lay, a dog and two zombies in a empty grave, a perfect prop for our attire. Am I the only one who finds this amusing.
When we deemed it safe, we crawled out rapidly and raced each other to the car, my old body keeping pace with Cindy's athletic one. Upon arrival I noticed the tires had been fixed! No one was around and I felt no need to question our luck. Yanking the door open we barreled in. Scruffy leaped eagerly into the back seat. Observing him through the rear view mirror he seemed to be licking the air on either side of him. What a odd little animal!
The two invisible beings Scruffy was sandwiched between looked at each other and smiled. One of them was scratching Scruffy's belly.
"The dog seems to be the only one that knows we helped." One being commented.
Before I started the ignition I grabbed Cindy's hand and bowed my head," Thank you most gracious God for saving us despite my stubbornness."
The other being nodded satisfied. "They know who really helped."
The two heavenly creations fanned their wings, the confines of the car not the least bit hindering their wide wingspan, and took flight.
"What's that?" I quizzed, as two shadows past over the hood in front of us.
"Two doves! Two large doves! Just drive!" Cindy ordered, looking out the back window for signs of our pursuers.
The fog opened up in front of us like the parting of the Red Sea . We drove between the opaque wall with the car lights illuminating the aisle that formed in the center. We stayed on the tail of the "seeing-eye" doves till we found the main highway and sped home with a story no one would ever believe. How could they? We didn't believe it. As the unholy crowd caught up with us the fog closed back up on them, causing them to grope about sightlessly. Two zombies, carrying Betty Boop umbrellas, chased by witches and demons! Halloween would never be celebrated in my home again.
At home I showered thoroughly and discarded my zombie outfit in trash bin, had a long conversation with God and went to sleep, at peace and forgiven.
The next morning Cindy came down to the kitchen, poured a bowl of raisin bran, sat down and starting eating. She had grown up overnight, I thought as I observed her budding curves and lankly form. I pulled out the chair next to her, nonchalantly, sat down with my coffee, opened the newspaper and casually asked, "Now, what's this about virgins?"
Cereal spewed forth across the table, a raisin hit me in the ear, and flakes landed in my java. As I patted her back we began one seriously overdue discussion.
Deut. 18:9-14
Psalm 34:7
Gal 5:10
James 2:19
James 4:7-10
Rev 21:8
"Mom, I don't think we're on the road anymore." My daughter announced.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I don't think they grow corn in the middle of the street."
With that announcement my car started to go flip flop, flip flop. I pulled over (not willing to admit to my offspring she might be right) and stopped the engine. Circling the car I found, not one, but two flats, and many stalks of corn. Great, one spare and two flats! We were going to have to hoof it. I opened the trunk and got out my emergency stash. I carried walking shoes, water bottles, flashlights, umbrellas and blankets for such and event, I lose my way frequently. I had read it was best to not stay near your car when it breaks down but to get a distance between you and it while waiting for help. The first people to stop could intend harm instead of help. A lone woman (or two) in a car, even if it's locked could be attacked by a window breaking malevolent.
"How could you get us lost? Where's your GPS devise?" my daughter, Cindy, complained as we trudged through the cornfield. Our flashlights were useless in the filmy air, but the umbrellas were handy.
"I can't find it. It won't tell me where it is."
Some thing was ordering me to go the other way, but I paid it no attention. Our dog, Scruffy, wasn't thrilled about my decision to hike forward, visually impaired by the impenetrable mist. He stopped frequently to sit and look up eagerly at something behind us. If I didn't know better it seemed like the hair on his head got ruffled by an unseen hand occasionally; there must be a breeze.
Up ahead I made out the beginning of an uneven fence. The closer we got I saw broken gaps in it. As we got even closer I realized it wasn't a fence but rows of rocks. Even closer, I discovered the rocks were tombstones. This is getting better, fog, mist, dark, zombie costumes, a complaining teenager, a peculiar acting dog and now a cemetery. Hopefully we'd come on a church or office building with a phone I could use, even if I had to break in. I saw breaking and entering as acceptable at this point.
Little orbs of light were rising from the graves and streaking about. They grouped together into larger orbs and zig zagged in the same direction we were headed, further into the burial ground. Something told me to go back and Scruffy barked in agreement. Once again, I ignored my gut.
The orbs were intriguing. They weren't fireflies as I first suspected. I'd heard of these things before. Supposedly they were the dead making themselves known. Cindy was trembling and holding on to my arm as I stupidly continued onward. Up ahead I saw a bright blaze. Yea, people, maybe they had cell phones. We proceeded on. Weird moaning assaulted our ears. Something in me insisted I retreat and Scruffy seconded the motion. I disregarded my gut instincts one more time, pushing back useful feelings of apprehension with womanly curiosity.
.
Tombstones to my left, tombstones to my right. Tombstones behind me, tombstones ahead of me. Large grotesque statues were placed arbitrarily throughout. No way would I want to spend eternity with one of those things hovering over me. We were deeply entrenched in the home of the dead. Lights flickered here and there amassing in size, and numbers. I swear they were luring us onward as they swirled around us.
In front of us a huge mausoleum blocked my complete view of a brilliant blaze entrapped in a circle with several uncanny looking characters dancing about. Cindy and I hugged the wall and peered around the stone structure, timidly. Several figures were nude, some, with pasty white complexions had on black Gothic costumes and ebony black hair that matched black painted lips and eyes. They were undulating and chanting to the enlarging blaze. The blaze was evoking the participation of ghouls and goblins who eagerly acquiesced.
I actually recognized a few of the women from work. Ordinary people during the day, followers of Satan in their spare time!
The orbs of light skipped about erratically, growing larger and coalescing into a menacing ball that spun around revealing a hideous, laughing face. Some of the orbs formed hazy figures that floated nearby talking to members of a séance who were asking for love, career and revenge advice. This was a witch's coven! They had summoned Satan, his minions, and the spirits of the dead. Actually, Satan was fooling even his followers. These dead souls were in reality more of his evil cohorts imitating those that had died, after all demon's are master liars and know about the lives of those that passed on to glory well enough to deceive susceptible individuals. Boy, I wished I'd listened to that inner voice that warned me to not advance further! Hindsight always gets me into trouble. This was the night the veil between two worlds’s opened and evil spirits met with evil flesh. It was Halloween, Samhain, the sacred holiday of all who tread behind the Wicked One. We were face to face with Mr. D. Evil himself. He was making cameo appearances world wide on this, his night. Like Santa Claus he had numerous proxies. There was a tremendous amount of blood splashed about, with body parts of dismembered animals protruding from a cauldron in the center of a hexagon (Witchcraft rituals aren't for the faint hearted) I felt dinner repeating itself on me. From here on out I'm becoming a vegetarian.
My daughter, shaking tremendously, asked, "They burn virgins at these things, don't they?"
"That's what I hear."
"Good, I'm safe," she sighed.
I cast her sharp glance.
"I mean, you'll protect me, won't you?" She added hastily, covering her mouth.
"I will but only till we get home." I threatened.
How old was she now? Where did she and James go after school? I'd better do some research on this! There was a convent down the street from us. I started making plans; I wonder if they accept Baptists? If not, we'll convert.
One of the transparent bodies looked in our direction, scanning, searching, and sniffing. How he missed us, I don't know, but he appeared to look me right in the eye, but more through me, I should say. Some shadow had appeared that screened us from his vision. I had the strangest sensation of being enveloped in feathers. Scruffy was straining to run but something pulled on his collar preventing him from revealing our presence. The face in the giant ball zoomed in on us. I uttered the name of Jesus in defense and the face shrank back, recoiling in fear. (Anyway, I hoped it was the name of Jesus that threatened the evil one and not my lovely countenance.) The great destroyer trembled. My gut told me to make a mad dash for it, and this time I hearkened to the promptings. Like Peter's stroll on water I doubted my strength would prevail.
Grabbing Cindy's wrist I whirled us both in the direction of the car. Unfortunately both our flashlight batteries died at once. Dying in a cemetery, coincidental? It was hard to follow our footsteps in the murkiness but we held our own. I could hear people in pursuit, hurling profane curses at us. They may not have seen us but they knew we were present; at least our flashlights weren't giving us away. I tripped over what felt like a foot and fell into a hole. Cindy landed on top of me, followed by Scruffy who seemed to be tossed in.
"Why'd you shove me?" she wailed, wiping mud out of her mouth.
"I didn't shove you, why did you trip me?" I questioned.
"I didn't trip you!" Cindy responded
"Who threw Scruffy in!" We added in unison.
Footsteps pounded past us overhead. What was this hole doing in the middle of nowhere. Eek, its a grave! There we lay, a dog and two zombies in a empty grave, a perfect prop for our attire. Am I the only one who finds this amusing.
When we deemed it safe, we crawled out rapidly and raced each other to the car, my old body keeping pace with Cindy's athletic one. Upon arrival I noticed the tires had been fixed! No one was around and I felt no need to question our luck. Yanking the door open we barreled in. Scruffy leaped eagerly into the back seat. Observing him through the rear view mirror he seemed to be licking the air on either side of him. What a odd little animal!
The two invisible beings Scruffy was sandwiched between looked at each other and smiled. One of them was scratching Scruffy's belly.
"The dog seems to be the only one that knows we helped." One being commented.
Before I started the ignition I grabbed Cindy's hand and bowed my head," Thank you most gracious God for saving us despite my stubbornness."
The other being nodded satisfied. "They know who really helped."
The two heavenly creations fanned their wings, the confines of the car not the least bit hindering their wide wingspan, and took flight.
"What's that?" I quizzed, as two shadows past over the hood in front of us.
"Two doves! Two large doves! Just drive!" Cindy ordered, looking out the back window for signs of our pursuers.
The fog opened up in front of us like the parting of the Red Sea . We drove between the opaque wall with the car lights illuminating the aisle that formed in the center. We stayed on the tail of the "seeing-eye" doves till we found the main highway and sped home with a story no one would ever believe. How could they? We didn't believe it. As the unholy crowd caught up with us the fog closed back up on them, causing them to grope about sightlessly. Two zombies, carrying Betty Boop umbrellas, chased by witches and demons! Halloween would never be celebrated in my home again.
At home I showered thoroughly and discarded my zombie outfit in trash bin, had a long conversation with God and went to sleep, at peace and forgiven.
The next morning Cindy came down to the kitchen, poured a bowl of raisin bran, sat down and starting eating. She had grown up overnight, I thought as I observed her budding curves and lankly form. I pulled out the chair next to her, nonchalantly, sat down with my coffee, opened the newspaper and casually asked, "Now, what's this about virgins?"
Cereal spewed forth across the table, a raisin hit me in the ear, and flakes landed in my java. As I patted her back we began one seriously overdue discussion.
Deut. 18:9-14
Psalm 34:7
Gal 5:10
James 2:19
James 4:7-10
Rev 21:8
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