Picture It & Write, October 21, 2012

A brand new beginning. The book of Revelations had been more than a book. More than someone’s view, more than someone’s faith. It had happened. Everything that was told would happen did.

The Christians arose from the grave and went to sit beside the almighty God. The floors opened up and everyone that had ever doubted, or had turned their backs on God, having been told about him, and still refused, were thrown in the pit of hell, to fight it out with the devil.

The beast showed his horns and made all kinds of promises to the ones left behind, that he would take care of them. He promised them a better life than they had ever lived. He promised them fame and fortune, if they would only follow him.

These left behind, had a choice still. They could pick God or choose the devil. If you wanted to choose God, you had to work for it very hard. You may starve almost to death, you may lose your home, your families, your job, and almost your life.

The price was high, but the end reward was living side by side with the almighty one. If you made it to heaven, the gates were made of gold and opened up into a kingdom, like no other that you could possibly even begin to dream of. Diamonds, and gems and stars that twinkled ever so brightly. Light that never disappeared behind a cloud, or lay down to rest.

No more pain, no sickness, cancers, jealousies, cheating, hurting, nothing to feel but happiness and peace. You walked in contentment. You wanted for nothing. Food was rich by hearing the word spoken from the lips of God.

The battles had been played and the chosen ones were now seated, and below in hell were the ones that were left behind or chose to not believe. The screams and tortures could be heard as you could see the devil and all of his followers behind steel bars, that would hold them forever and ever.

A new earth, a new dawn, a new life. The world was good, and it would once again begin to build itself all over again.


These thoughts and opinions are my own beliefs. I did not write anything to anger or hurt anyone in this writing exercise. As for myself, I am a believer of the almighty God. I am working as faithfully as I am able to at this point to walk the path to heaven. Although the works here on earth are difficult and sometimes hard, I will walk forth with faith  a little more each day. I believe with all of my heart, that the work I have endured here on this earth, is nothing in comparison to the work that I would have to do to battle between God and Satan.

I am tired and I carry stress. I have many christian friends, and I have three children, and many grandchildren that I love dearly. My prayer for today, is that not one face turns away from God, that not one human passes from this earth not hearing the word of God, found in the Bible. I pray that we lean unto the Lord who has all the answers and perfect timing.

This has been a joy to write for this week’s writing exercise, given to me by Ermilia. It is a chance to let you know what I am made up inside of my heart and soul. No one can judge me on what clothes I wear, or how heavy I am, how much or little money I have, or what car I drive. I will be judged by one and only one on judgement day, and this is all that matters. My day is coming as quickly as in a blink of an eye. Am I ready?  I hope so.




I Hate You Devil!

The Wicked Witch of the East as pictured in Th...

The Wicked Witch of the East as pictured in The Tin Woodman of Oz by L. Frank Baum. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What would it do to your personality if you never saw sunshine, or never felt the rays warming your soul. Can you imagine always living in the dark, only once in a while peeking out from the hole in the tree, to say hello to a passer-by?

This is how it has been at our house all day. I think it was triggered yesterday, when Al and I went to Wal-Mart. We went there to get him his hair cut. With his heavy sweating, the over abundance in heat, he chose to get a buzz. I will have to admit when I first saw the finished product, I heard a small gasp come from deep within myself, but he likes it, and this is what matters in the end.

After we left the hair designer, we made our way over to the toy section, where Al went through all the vintage cars. Now I will tell you something. The cars take his mind off of himself, so if I could let him sit there all day and gaze at each car, if I could buy him every single car, I would, just to keep his mind on somewhere else but himself.

He picked out three cars, and he placed them in his cart on his scooter. We then made it over to the grocery section, and by now he was starting to tilt over in his seat. I was confident though that he would not tilt far, as a dear blogger friend, had custom-made him a special harness strap to help him sit up, but the more leaning he did, he eventually had no more control, and the strength of the Parkinson’s snapped the harness right in half. It pulled the snaps apart and over Al went, not completely over, but too far. It looked like if I blew a breath from the opposite direction on him, he would go completely off his seat.

I had to get some groceries, you know, the ones you have to pick up through the middle of the week, and I didn’t want to have to take Al back out again on the same journey, so I pushed and walked, pushed and walked him through the aisles. In between pushing, and queuing, I tried to remember what I needed.

We finally were at the last two rows, and all hell broke loose. Now remember, the day before when I spoke of knowing I was learning through Al’s illness? Remember how I said I was going to lean on God more? Well, the devil didn’t like it so he set us up good. Al fell for it, hook, line and sinker, and I have to admit, I was losing patience at trying to balance everything happening around me, when we came upon the wicked witch of the east.

Right before our wandering eyes, appeared our father’s girlfriend. Now this girlfriend had told Al many times as our dad was in the progress of dying, that he was lazy, that he made our dad miserable, and that he was the reason dad was so sick, because Al had worn our father’s health down.

As for me, this woman used to tell me rotten things while dad was still alive. She said things like if I would have known he was going to get sick, I would never let him in my bed. Also, if he doesn’t start getting out of that chair and acting like he is happy to be with me, I will send him home to die. Now these comments here were told in the last three months of dad’s life. I took care of him for the whole year he was dying, but the last three months, I padded the recliner, to keep pressure off his sore bones. Dad had bone cancer. The cancer was eating holes in his bones, and he was very weak, frail, and in a lot of pain, but I was forced to hear this crap, because I cared for him while he lived in her house.

I could give so many examples, but it causes a huge lump in my throat, as I haven’t mourned my father yet, and I can not deal with the memories, so back to Al.

He saw her first. He let out a big scream, right in the vegetable section. Loud cries came from his throat, tears were pouring from each eye, until I think I saw his eyes floating. He was pointing in her direction. I looked to where he was pointing, and I set eyes on  her. She looked at me, and I looked at her, daring her to come one step towards Al.

Al is yelling, I didn’t do anything to her Terry, I didn’t! She doesn’t like me Terry, she doesn’t. She wouldn’t let me see dad when he was dying, she told me to stay away Terry. I believed at that moment I learned how to multi-task. I tried to comfort him, telling him I would protect him, that I would not let her come near, I was still trying to finish my grocery shopping, since I was almost done, and I was trying to speed a slow moving man and scooter to the closest cashier counter.

Everywhere that we walked, she would watch, and not be too far away. She reminded me of a panther, getting ready to pounce, but yet she showed fear, as she never came close enough. We did make it to the cashier, with me praying constantly, God help us, God help us. God just let us pay and leave with no problems.

God did get us out of the store. I had a very tipsy man to help get out of the scooter, as all of his energy had been used up consumed by the witch. His crying kept him from concentrating on getting himself out of the scooter and into the car, so I did what anyone would. I looked quickly around for help, but there was no one who offered. I took a deep breath and with all of my power, God and I got him into the car. With much scooting him, I finally got him arranged enough to get the seat belt placed and buckled.

I then turned to the grocery cart, and realized I had left my purse in the cart along with the groceries, and I thanked God for watching over my purse, because it could have been taking so easily with one step. I opened the trunk, and took Al’s scooter apart and placed it in its place, then I loaded the groceries and Al’s cars to what ever empty spot was left, and had to put the rest in the back seat. I pushed the cart to the cart holding area, and got in the driver’s seat. I started the car, so the air could come on and cool Al and me down, then I rolled the window down on my side, and let my head fall back to the head rest, and smoked a cigarette. I had to rest, I could not drive in this state of mind.

Al just sat there staring ahead, but no more tears, just sniffles. I felt like after a few minutes, I could drive, and so we left. We get about three-fourths of the way home, and I see a little blue tracker in my rear view mirror. I didn’t say anything but my mind was on radar alert. Was it her? Oh, it couldn’t be. Oh my gosh, no, it is! She was right behind us.

I must have let out a gasp or something because Al looked at me with slight fear in his eyes and asked what was wrong. I told him the witch was behind us, but do not worry, I will protect you. When we got to the road we normally would turn on, I turned the opposite direction, going down the wrong road. Al is making it clear to me that I am not going the right way home, and I am making it perfectly clear that I did this on purpose. I asked him if he wanted her to know where we lived, and he then understood and became quiet. She must have gotten tired of the mouse catches the cheese game, because I saw her eventually turn in someone’s drive way and go back the other way.

I pulled off the road, and put the car in park, and I left the car running so Al would stay cool, and I got out of the car, and leaning against the car and smoking a cigarette, I screamed to the skies, why, why God do you let this happen to us? All we ever did was love our dad, all we ever do is try to be good kids, why is this happening?

Out of the blue, my legs felt weak, and I felt myself slip to the ground, sobbing for the loss of my parents, sobbing for the disease that has chosen Al to live inside of, sobbing for the loss of my sister’s love, and the family that I have lost through a stupid Will. I don’t know how long I sat there, I don’t remember much of anything, but as quickly as it happened, it left, and I came back to my senses, and realized the car was running with Al in it. I got back up and got inside, and drove us back home.

He has never been the same since. There is a sense of misery screaming to get out of him, causing tears for the whole day today. He had struggled with choking on his milk, which is my fault, I had forgotten to put the thicket in it. He has complained of pain all day, although he is on strong pain pills. I just left him sitting outside on the patio furniture, after trying to talk to him, but all he could tell me is he is so sad, and can’t fix anything anymore, and he is wanting to be by himself, because he is asking God to help him die.