Daily Archives: March 18, 2012
You Can Count On God
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He was the strong one. She was the one you went to for comfort. He worked the land. She could be found in the kitchen or out at the line hanging clothes. Dogs running in the background, chasing after kids. Sounds of horses working the land.Hammer noise bouncing off the trees, as they were helping build an addition to the house. A baby on the way. If you stood still, you could hear the voice of God whispering through out the land of this family as he guided them day-to-day. God-fearing people were the foundation of this tiny town. Working, and playing together. Sundays were joyful praises and you could hear a soft amen being spoken from time to time, as the preacher man poured out his lesson. Lids of baskets being taken off, aroma of fried chicken, rising for all to smell. All gathered near, holding hands as grace was being said. Some resting under the shadow of a tree, others playing games. Chatter being transferred back and forth. Everyone now tired. Walking home, they saw dark, grey clouds in the sky ahead of them. It was coming from the direction of their home. The children ran ahead, and they both sped up their walk. When they neared their home, she fell to her knees, he saw the children frozen in their spot. Their house was burning. Roof was gone, glass was broken. He ran to the barn and quickly filled the buckets from the well, trying to beat the fire, one bucket at a time. God knew. God through is almighty power, sounded the trumpets, for all those to hear. Soon family members from all around were passing buckets. Slowly the fire was put out. Women putting their arms around other women. Gathering children in arms. Men stirring the ashes. They found comfort in each other as they shared a family supper together. Children tucked in, women doing dishes. Outside, men smoking pipes making plans. God guided them in their need. A new home was up before the next planting.
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No Escape
He stood there shaking and begging.You could his words from the other room begging his father to please stop. Please stop! I promise dad, I will be good. I won’t do it anymore. I promise. Please stop. There was something wild in his father, that when he heard the child pleading, it drove him to want to teach him a lesson even more. He continued to keep hitting the boy’s
Begging (Photo credit: NB77)
bare legs and arms with the strap. Looking at the front of the boy, you could see a dark streaming shadow running down the front of his pants. The dad had gotten his fill and dropped the strap and told him, now, maybe you will do what you are told. He walked away. The boy fell to the floor, from pain, rubbing his legs and arms, trying to soothe away all that had happened. The boy, eventually got up and walked into the bathroom, where he pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet, inspecting his wounds. There were large, red, puffy strap marks everywhere on him. Each time this happened, he told himself he was going to run away. He was never coming back. He hated his dad. Well, today was the day. He wasn’t going to take it anymore. He stood up and pulled his pants back up and went into his room, cursing at his dad under his breath all the way. He climbed out his bedroom window, and ran the half of a block to his best friends house. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He waited on the steps for what seemed an hour, but still no one came. He knew of no other place to go, so he headed back home, back through his bedroom window. His dad was waiting for him in the door way with the strap in his hand, bringing it together making a snapping sound that made the boy jump each time he heard it. The boy jumped on his bed, and down to the floor, trying to race around his father, tripping over himself. He landed on the floor, but he got up and scooted past him. Come back here! You get your butt back in here right now! The boy wasn’t going to let this man hurt him ever again. He ran through the house and out the front door. The next day the headlines of the local paper read, fire destroyed house on ………family couldn’t escape.Nothing could be seen but the simmering ashes of where the house had stood.
Who I am 