Showing posts with label revivalisneeded. Show all posts
Showing posts with label revivalisneeded. Show all posts

THE SHOCKING STORY OF ROSS PURCELL



THE SHOCKING STORY OF ROSS PURCELL

In about five minutes, or maybe even less, Ross Purcell knew that he would be dead.
Most people seem to die from automobile accidents or heart attacks. Many older men and women meet their demise simply by growing old and their bodies ceasing to function the way they have for 70 or 80 or 90 years or so. But here he was, Ross Purcell, or R.P. as many of his friends called him, at the point of death because of some freak accident. Why him, he questioned over and over in his mind? At his prime at 40 years old, Ross Purcell’s name was known in the building industry as the best in the business. Sure, his homes were expensive, but as the old adage goes, you get what you pay for. And these executive types with their fancy wife’s and perfect children didn’t mind handing over a half of a million dollars for one of his finest! The bulky, somewhat overweight man moved slightly as his mind flashed to what brought him to this predicament.
Ross had heard about a great land deal only two counties above where he lived. He could have scheduled an appointment for next week to see the property, but he wanted to take no chance at missing this bargain that could eventually bring him well over a million dollars profit.
So Ross turned down the offer of attending church this morning and decided to drive up and scan the possible investment site. His wife, Maggie, who was quite upset at Ross’ decision, and his 4 year-old daughter Mary, still went however. Maggie had been pestering Ross lately about bringing religion into the family and Ross had grown tired of it very quickly. It was all that fellow’s fault, Mark whats-his-name, that she worked with, who showed up at his house a few Thursdays ago with the preacher of his church. Ross recalled what a sight both of them were; Bibles in hand and everything. They even had the nerve to ask Ross to turn the television off!
Anyhow, Ross remembered it crystal clear. Maggie sat listening to every word and Ross trying to politely ignore the two of them as they quoted Bible verses and talked about Jesus dying for he and Maggie’s sins. Though there was one phrase that the Pastor had said that strangely stuck with Ross since then. “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” The big man normally could only remember the latest sports scores, yet these words kept popping into his head! In fact, even as he was walking the land, those very words seemed to gnaw at him, to haunt him almost.
Anyway, as the important Ross Purcell was happily calculating home sites and how to minimize expenses, he neglected to see the large hole that he stepped into! Of course, part of that was due to the brush that almost camouflaged the entire crevice. Down he went! And a long fall it was, at least to Ross it seemed twenty feet! The worst part of it was that when he dropped he caused many layers of dirt and debris to follow him, trapping the big man, leaving him no way to escape!
That was hours ago and the air was running out! Every breath was a chore! Guessing that he had just a few minutes at the most, Ross struggled again to suck some air into his pleading lungs. His mind racing, knowing the end was coming drastically closer every second, he began to panic. He could barely move as well, which frustrated him greatly and aided in his frenzy. Thoughts that he was sure would be his last came and went. Maggie! No more Maggie! And his little Mary! Too never see them again...for his precious Mary to grow up without a father, what would ever become of her? No more nice cars and name brand living! What does it matter now?
Again, Ross inhaled to the best of his ability but it was only a fraction of a normal breath. Tears formed as he began to cry like a baby.
Suddenly the thought came again. “What shall it profit a man...” Maybe the preacher was right? Surely he was a sinner, Ross decided instantly. Thoughts came to him now as he saw things in a different light. Terrible thoughts! Lying...his drunken binges...his lust...he was lost! It was clear now, he was doomed! There was no hope for him! In mere seconds Ross somehow knew that he would enter that horrible place that he had laughed about for years-that place of blackness and yes...fire! If only he had another chance! Then the big man remembered the words of the preacher. Those words too had new meaning. With every ounce of his strength, Ross Purcell lifted up his eyes to the darkness above him. I will turn to you Jesus, his heart cried out, save me from this death and I will believe on you. There was no more will power, no more time, no more air.  Long seconds, perhaps even a full minute came and went as Ross drifted in and out of consciousness. It was over. Darkness......but then...something...was it...could it be...yes it was! A faint, a very faint light! Then followed noise. A steady, hammering noise! Ross could see, his lungs started filling with air...he could breath! Ross was alive and he was going to be saved! With a fresh energy, Ross kept looking up and was rejoicing! He saw some sort of machine tearing up the soil. They found him!
Just minutes later the shaken man was above ground. Two men had pulled him out and steadied him and in a shorter time than expected, Ross had regained his strength and soon his lightheadedness too, was gone. “They told us you might be up here somewhere sir” stated the taller of the two. Ross looked at both of them. They wore coveralls labeled with a power company insignia. “I thought you would be a rescue team or something, or from the sheriff’s department, you work for the electric company?” Ross questioned. The shorter man employee answered now. “Mister, you were out in the middle of nowhere. You would have been dead by the time anyone got out here. The sheriff called after your wife could not get hold of you. We just happened to be in the area putting some poles in and we saw this notebook...then we saw where we guessed you fell in.” Ross eyed the logbook. It was his for sure. “Well, thanks” He said as he took the journal and shook both of their hands. “Thank you two so much for savin’ my life.” The rejoicing was quick and then Ross turned to walk away. Glancing at the land, monetary figures began speeding through his mind again. Here he was, the Ross Purcell. Good as new and ready to make some money. So he lost a few hours? Suddenly he recalled the pleading he did the last few seconds in the hole...his promise to turn to Jesus. Taking a deep breath, Ross gave a satisfied look as he gazed at the acreage around him. That’ll have to wait, he decided. Maybe later he would let Jesus save his soul. Paying no attention to the screaming voices of the two men behind him, Ross turned and unknowingly stepped onto a live wire and immediately hundreds of thousands of volts went through his body, then he fell to the ground and died.


“For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
Mark 8:36

DAVY HODGES AND THE BIG MOVE

Davy was six years old. And he liked what most six year old boys liked; animals of all kinds, investigating caves and woods, which was his favorite past-time, milking cows and tying things up with rope. He also enjoyed eating his mothers buttermilk biscuits, flapjacks, hot apple pies, cornbread, meatloaf and just about everything else she could whip up for mealtime. Davy was a little short for his age, his younger brother was only four pounds lighter and nearly the same height. Yet there was two years difference between them! But Davy made up for his lack by his spunk. He worked hard helping his pa whenever he asked for it, and even sometimes when he didn’t. He was always the first one up in the morning, usually reading a chapter of the Bible before his brother Joshua was even awake. And Davy, believe it or not, he even enjoyed his chores! He wouldn’t just scrub the barn floor he would SCRUB the barn floor! And he always would do more than his mother expected. Sure, he wasn’t as tall as the other six year olds in and around town but he could work just as hard as any of them. Well, today was the big day. The Hodges family had sold their farm, all 160 acres, and today they would be leaving it for the last time. They were to stay in Nashville tonight with their Uncle Amos and Aunt Grace, then leave for North Carolina the following morning. There were a lot of things that Davy would miss about their home here in Murfreesboro, but his pa’s brother, Uncle Jack, had passed away late last year. And that left Aunt Mildred to care for the Iron Station General Store, or rather, hire out to manage it while she stayed at home with the four little ones. Being a God-fearing and Christian lady, Auntie Mildred knew that, while she helped Uncle Jack many times, her place was at home, certainly not off running some business. So pa felt that he needed to be there for her, as there was no other kin around for 1000 miles or more. Aunt Mildred promised pa that he could have their other home, a log cabin on 40 acres, that was just two miles outside of town. She also told us it was real pretty country, almost as pretty as Tennessee! So even though this move was not pleasant in the sense that Davy was leaving the only home he ever knew, he was also plenty excited about his new home, with all of it’s new surroundings. Plus Davy trusted his pa’s decision to move. Not that it was the place of a child to question his father, for that would certainly be wrong and a good reason for a modest whipping, but Davy knew his pa was just plain smart about such things, and what was better for everyone involved.
Davy got on his knees and prayed just like any other morning. He then read one chapter of Exodus. (It had taken him a while, but he had finished Genesis.) Then he performed his usual chores of feeding the chickens and milking the cows. His older sister Charity fed the rabbits, and his other sister, Hope, also older, fed the horses and the cows. Then it was time for breakfast.
Everyone was there, as they were for every meal in the Hodges household. Though the children said very little, this was a time for everyone to be together and talk about the days events. Pa, big and strong, yet quiet, spoke of the order of the day. Each member of the family was assigned responsibilities, mostly relating to the move. “This will be a really big trip,” Pa said, “Not like a venture into town. We all need to work hard and be ready to leave by noon.” After they were done eating it was work, work, work. But Davy looked at it as a challenge and was done 30 minutes early!
All loaded, Pa, Ma, Charity, Hope, Davy, Joshua, and Beth Ann left for Nashville. Just as Pa had said, this trip was going to be a long one. To go to Nashville would only take about three hours, but that was just to visit his Uncle and Aunt, as they might never see them again. The trek to North Carolina would be much, much longer, close to two months, Pa estimated.
Nashville came rather quick, Davy thought. Actually it probably was three hours, but Davy spent the whole time looking out at the scenery. He was hoping to see a bear, which he didn’t, but he did spot a family of deer and a bunch of smaller animals. He remembered the words that his Pa said one time during evening Bible reading, how that the Lord made the trees, the animals, the stars...everything. And that people should enjoy the things that He made and not always look for other ways to be “entertained”. Davy’s Pa was not against books, but he had commented that he noticed how people were beginning to get so interested in them that less and less the beautiful work of God was being appreciated. Davy would always love the outdoors, it would never be boring to him!
Well, here they were. Nashville. And they made it to Uncle Amos’ just in time for supper. Davy sure did not mind that. Aunt Grace could cook almost as good as Ma...almost. Davy ran up and gave each of them a hug, as did everyone else. “I saw some deer” Davy said excitedly. “I was hoping to see a big black bear, but I must not have looked good enough. I’m sure there were some out there.” Aunt Grace smiled. “I’m sure there were, Davy, I’m sure there were.”
Supper consisted of chicken, biscuits, corn on the cob, cows milk and cherry pie for dessert. As good as it was though, the conversation overshadowed the meal. Uncle Amos had brought up the preacher that was in town and had invited them to stay an extra night so they could hear him. Pa and Ma both loved church and listening to preaching, especially if it was to-the-point, no holds-barred preaching. But delaying the trip another day, that was a tough one for Pa, who was anxious to get started on their new life. He looked at Ma, “Are you up to waiting a day dear? I know you’re just as interested in getting to Carolina as I am.” Ma, adjusting little Beth Ann in her arms as she spoke said, “Now, James, whatever choice you make is fine with me, you know that.” Now six year-old Davy Hodges didn’t care either way. Right now he was eating his second piece of chicken, and big it was! This one must’ve been the one that scared off all the smaller chickens so it could eat their portions of feed. But little good it did him; now he was someone else’s food: Davy’s! Just as Davy was diving into another delicious bite, Uncle Amos glanced at his father with an almost sneaky look in his eye. “Of course, James, you know that Grace and I missed tonight’s evening meeting due to your visit.” Uncle Amos’ face went real serious as Pa looked at him, then they both broke out laughing. It was then that Pa threw the cloth napkin in my Uncles direction and said at the same time, “Now that is simply not fair, but I guess you win, brother.”
So that settled that. Davy lay in his bunk with Joshua beside him and thought about tomorrow. He wondered what was so special about the church meetings. Aunt Grace said that there were four meetings a day, whereas there was usually just one on Sunday. She did mention that the preacher was a very special person, that the newspapers were all writing about him and everyone was talking about him. More importantly, he was getting all this attention because it was said that he was a real man of God and that God was with him. Davy was interested in seeing a man who was that close to God.
As he drifted off to sleep, Davy tried to think of his name, Uncle Amos and Aunt Grace had both mentioned it. That’s right, it was easy, Davy thought, an easy name to remember. The name of the preacher that he was going to hear tomorrow was Sam Jones. Samuel P. Jones.
It was almost 11:00 A.M. when the Hodges family, Uncle Amos and Aunt Grace reached the site of the revival meeting. It was very, very big, was the first thing Davy noticed. “I guess you are not the only one who has heard about this preacher Jones,” Pa said to Uncle Amos. The reason for that statement was how many people were here. That was the second thing Davy noticed.
The building was a huge auditorium, in fact it looked like all the population of Nashville could fit into it. And just at this moment, it seemed as if they were doing exactly that! It must have been thousands of people, and they were coming from every area of the city! “My, you would think that the president was in town,” sighed Ma, eyes opened wide, as if she just saw the largest, biggest animal ever.
They pulled up to an empty spot, after taking many minutes to find one, that is, and Uncle Amos tied up the horses. Pa helped secure the carriage while Ma and Aunt Grace gathered up all the children. They entered the building, which looked even bigger from the inside, and soon found some seats fairly close to the front. Davy sat expectantly for what seemed like a long time. Then a funny looking man carrying a clipboard appeared at the front and announced that due to the crowd they were going to allow more people to come in and stand in the aisles. He meekly asked that everyone be patient and thanked the crowd for their understanding.
Davy suddenly heard a loud noise and then realized that it was a bell, and probably a very big one, that was ringing 11:00 A.M. Immediately the large room became silent and Davy couldn’t understand why. Then he gazed up front and saw Sam Jones.
There was no introduction but Davy somehow knew that this was the much talked-about preacher. He was not overly big, being smaller than Davy’s father, who was so big some people often mistook him for a lumberjack. This man was thin and wiry but looked very serious. He took a moment and sized up the crowd, as if a challenge was before him. His eyes went from side to side, front to back. The audience did not make a sound. Slowly preacher Jones cleared his throat. In a rather quiet tone the preacher thanked the city of Nashville. But then things changed. “Which of the devil’s vices and habits are keeping you from being converted?” he proclaimed loudly. Then silence. Preacher Jones looked over the room again. “I said, which of the devil’s vices and habits are keeping you from being converted to God?” The dynamic man preached, at times mentioning things Davy’s father had always taught him were wrong. This Sam Jones hated these same things; gambling, alcoholic beverages, etc. Davy’s eyes were glued to this man as he railed against all sorts of terrible sins. Davy noticed that many, many onlookers had almost pale faces, some had broke out into a sweat, and not from the heat it seemed. Others had red faces, full of shame.

Some of you profess religion, are members of the church, yet you partake of some of these devil’s vices and habits.” Preacher Jones’ voice thundered through the auditorium. The hour-long sermon was drawing to a close. “If you need converted, whether a drunkard or a card-player, or whether a church member, come now to the altar, repent of your selfish and wicked ways and turn to Christ.” Some started to leave their seats, but Mr. Jones held his hand up, motioning them to stay in their seats. “Do not come, however, if you are not sincere, if you are not fully ready to give up your sins. But if you are really genuine and desire a new life in Christ, then come. But I warn you, bring therefore fruits meet for repentance. Do not bow before this altar if you intend to go again to the gamblers boat or the local brewery.”
Hundreds hurried to the front. Davy felt something move next to him. It was his father and mother, joining the crowd down front. Both of them had tears in their eyes. Davy edged closer to his Aunt and watched as his parents went to their knees. He had seen them pray many times at home, but this seemed strange for them to pray with everyone else around. Something happened to them, Davy figured. Minutes later, preacher Jones spoke. “Many have come denouncing their sin, now willing to stand for righteousness. This can only be done by the power of God and one can only have this power when they come to Christ under His terms. It is my earnest prayer that many more will be converted throughout these meetings. My next message will be at 2:00 this afternoon. Please pray for the hearts of the sinners of Nashville.”
Davy’s parents came back to meet Davy, Uncle Amos, Aunt Grace and the other children. “Is everything okay, Papa?” Davy asked. “We are fine, son, aren’t we mother?” Davy never saw his parents so happy; their faces were glowing.
The group of them went towards the exit. It took a few minutes as there were so many that attended the meeting. As Davy reached the door he dropped his English-style cap that he got for his birthday the year before. With the onrush of people, however, it got trampled and kicked and finally ended up about ten feet away under a now empty seat. Just as he put his hand down to retrieve it, someone beat him to it. “Here you go, young man,” said a voice amongst the crowd. Sam Jones stepped out and handed Davy his cap. Davy was tongue-tied but finally blurted out, “Hel...hello, Preacher Jones s.s.sir.” Sam Jones smiled and patted the boy on the head. “What is your name, son?” he asked. Davy quietly answered. “You need not be so quiet, Davy,” Sam Jones said as he knelt down to be at Davy’s level. “I’m just a preacher, you’ve no need to be afraid of me.” He slowly draped his arm around the lad and with a very serious look said, “Are you a follower of Christ, Davy? Have you ever turned from your sin to the Lord Jesus Christ?” Davy thought hard for a minute. He did read his Bible every morning and he prayed every day. Quickly his mind went to the time that he had disobeyed his mother. He was four years old, and had asked his Ma if he could have some raisins. She told him not before dinner, but he had snuck some and hidden behind Pa’s chair to eat them. Papa caught him and explained to him about disobeying and that not doing what Mama said was a sin. Davy also remembered how his Papa broke a branch off of the big tree out back and whipped his backside. Now here was this important preacher asking him this question. “Well...sir, I do...read my Bible...and I do believe in the Savior.” Davy’s face sort of scrunched up, “But I don’t know if I really follow Him.” Preacher Jones smiled again as he replied, “You see, Davy, that is a true christian. And though you may not understand now, you must tell the Lord that it is your desire to become a christian. One day Davy, you will understand enough to believe and be saved, and that will be the most glorious day of your life.” Sam Jones stood up and held out his hand. Davy took it and they shook hands. “It was nice meeting you son.” As the preacher turned to go, Davy called out, “Preacher Jones, thank you for my cap.” Sam Jones smiled and nodded at the boy. Then he was gone into the crowd. Davy looked around until he saw his family and then joined them.
A few hours later they were all back at Uncle Amos’ house, eating the lunch meal. Davy’s father continued the conversation that had been started on the ride home. “Amos,” he said, “I am certainly glad that you were so forceful about our attending the meeting today.” Both Uncle Amos and Aunt Grace smiled. “You can see now why we wanted you to hear him” Aunt Grace said. “He is what our country needs at this time, what with all the moral backsliding going on and all.” Uncle Amos gently picked up a buttermilk biscuit dipped in the fresh gravy on his plate. “More importantly James, we were not sure of your spiritual condition. Not that we doubted your sincerity, but neither of us were positive that you had truly been converted.” At this point he looked up at Davy’s father eye to eye. “Not to try to offend you James, we just had concern for you both.” Davy’s father took his turn to smile, “No offense taken Amos. If not for a straightforward sermon like Preacher Jones delivered, I may never have realized that I had never truly become a christian, in the true sense of the word of course.” James leaned back in his chair. “I was...religious to a degree, we both were. But we had not turned to him in our hearts, with that repentant attitude that Preacher Jones kept mentioning.” Davy’s mother refilled everyones mug with pure white cows milk. Davy gulped his down as politely as he could while he listened to his mother. “Well James and children, we are heading to North Carolina tomorrow for a new life in many ways.” She sat down and gripped her husbands hand, “Isn’t that right?” Davy’s father smiled again at his mother. Davy noticed that he sure had been doing a lot of smiling this afternoon. “That’s right Martha...that is right.” They all sat at the table, doing more talking than eating it seemed. Davy did not mind, he listened all he could. If this matter of becoming a christian was that important of a decision then he needed to learn all he could. Besides when Preacher Jones talked to him about following the Lord, something inside Davy felt sort of...guilty. And yet at the same time it made him interested in finding out more.
It was bedtime. Davy’s father tucked him in after they prayed. Davy loved his papa so. Always his papa told him the story of how he had prayed for a long time for a little boy and the Lord answered that prayer by giving him Davy. Then unexpectedly the Lord doubly-blessed Davy’s father by giving him a second boy, Joshua. Davy’s father opened his Bible and read some of it to Davy. He read about a man named Jonah, a prophet that disobeyed God and tried to run from him. After a few minutes the story was over and Davy’s father prayed that the Lord would be with Davy. Then he lay the blanket over his tired six year old. “Get some rest now son, tomorrow we leave for North Carolina, and it will be a long trip.” Davy glanced up and smiled, he liked that his pa had read the Bible to him. Though it was read much at dinner, Davy had never had read it to him at bedtime. He secretly hoped that his father would always read the Bible to him at night. “Good night papa, I love you.” James reached down and hugged Davy in his big strong arms. “I love you too my boy, I love you too.” Davy was very tired and that was the last thing that he remembered before he fell asleep. Except that he wished that he could always be in his fathers arms where he did not feel afraid of anything.
It was morning. Davy was half asleep as he realized that he was being loaded into the wagon. He quickly rubbed his eyes and sat up. Everyone was in and ready to go, excepting his father and mother, who were saying goodbye to Uncle Amos and Aunt Grace. Then they made their rounds hugging all the children. “Bye, I will miss you” Davy said very sadly. Then he blurted out like six-year-olds often do, “and I’ll miss your buttermilk biscuits!” The whole group of them burst out laughing. “Good bye” Davy’s father said solemnly as he and Davy’s mother took their places on the wagon. James took hold of the reins and yelled “Giddy up.” The last thing Davy heard as they pulled out was his Aunt Grace saying, “The Lord be with you all.”
The days were long and hard. Sometimes they would stop to let the horses rest and Davy and the others could get out and run and play. One day Davy and Joseph found a snake and Davy knew it was a rattlesnake, which is a kind not to be played with. He may have been all boy, but he was smart enough not to mess with a poisonous snake. He remembered one boy in Murfreesboro that got bit by one last year and nearly died! Still, it was neat to see the slippery, slimy creature slither through the dirt on its way most likely to eat some mouse or lizard that it found in the woods.
There were other stops along the way too. Many nights the family was invited to sleep in a strangers barn or home. Pa hesitated to accept most of the time, but often gave in due to his concern for ma and the little ones.
One of these times was at the home of an especially nice man named Mr. Witherspoon. The thin gray-haired man had another visitor in his home, a man named Ira Sankey. Pa and Ma were both very interested in Mr. Sankey. He was a christian hymn-writer and singer who worked for the Internal Revenue Department. After singing, “There Is A Fountain Filled With Blood” in the evening, Pa asked him why he did not go full time with an evangelistic speaker. Mr. Sankey calmly replied that he desired to do the LORD’s work without receiving any pay, he was completely content serving him while working for the government. Mr. Sankey also prayed for them and their trip and his traveling. He was in the area for business and was heading back to a place called Newcastle Pennsylvania tomorrow. Davy had never heard of such a place but his pa said that Newcastle was a very, very long ways away.
Another fun stop was in North Carolina in a big city called Charlotte. This was just a few days before they reached their new home. It had started snowing quite hard, so Davy’s father stopped at a clearing to eat, hoping that the snowstorm would slow down. Well, while Davy’s mother and sisters were preparing the noontime meal, Davy and Joshua discovered a big hill. Now the big hill was pretty to look at, until Joshua found a large snow shovel that was missing the handle. Between the two of them, they came up with a real brainstorm; ride down the hill on the big, shiny shovel piece! And ride they did! Or rather slide! Over and over they would get on, one at a time and whisk quickly to the bottom. Then they would, carrying the shovel of course, walk to the top only to do it again. And after a time Davy’s mother dismissed Charity and Hope from their chores, and they joined in too. Even Pa went down a couple of times! Sadly after a while though, the snowflakes stopped coming down and when mealtime was over they left. But for Davy, that was one of the best times that he ever had!
They had arrived! It was late at night and very dark! It seemed like it took forever to get to Iron Station, North Carolina but now they were here, their new home! They all shuffled in as Aunt Mildred showed them where the bedrooms were. She had been staying at the log cabin waiting for them to arrive. Everyone was tired so they all went straight to sleep. Pa told them that there would be plenty of time for talk and looking around tomorrow. Which was okay with Davy, he was so tired he had trouble keeping his eyes open the last hour of the journey. As he drifted off to sleep, he was thinking of the snowhill and how much fun it was.
Boy was the log cabin big! That was the first thing that Davy noticed. Four bedrooms! And the dining area was twice the size of the one in their old home! Ma and the girls had plenty of room to work around each other while fixing the meals.
Davy spent most of the morning helping his pa unload the wagon. Then in the afternoon, he and Joshua were allowed to scout around the property, while their pa and ma went into town to buy supplies. (Many things Aunt Mildred had already stocked in the house but they still needed some things). So Davy and his brother spent hours just seeing where everything was and looking for a place they could call their favorite spot. Sort of a hiding spot that every boy liked to have where he could go and be alone if he felt like he wanted to be. They did, after much time, find a place that suited them. It was down by the river, a small cave that was hidden behind some tall oak trees. Both Davy and Joshua were pleased, any young boy would have been excited all over to have their very own cave on their very own land!
Aunt Mildred was just as sweet as Pa said she was. Davy didn’t see her much the first day as she was at the store a lot, but in the eventime he got to spend some time with her. She told everyone that the store was very busy and how happy she was that they had come to help her. The plan was that Pa would run the store and keep about a fourth of all the profits. Pa said that seemed like it was too much money, but Aunt Mildred insisted.
Well, it was bedtime. The first day at their new home was full of chores and fun. Davy was thinking of all the places to explore and all the new animals that he could make friends with. Then his thoughts shifted. He started thinking of the revival meeting with Preacher Jones and the short talk that they had afterwards. Then he recalled the time at Mr. Witherspoons house. Davy had listened to Mr. Sankey sing and as he talked about the LORD. Davy knew that he was not a Christian the way these men were. He especially remembered the words that Preacher Jones said about becoming a Christian when he got older and understood more. It was then that his Pa walked into the bedroom.
He smiled at Joshua, already asleep in the bed next to Davy, then went to Davy’s bedside. “Still awake, son?” his Pa asked. Davy smiled back, “Yes sir.” It was a well-known fact around the Hodges household that Davy was the last of the children to fall asleep.

Pa, I’ve been thinking.” Davy’s smile turned to a stern but curious gaze. “Did you know that Preacher Jones spoke to me after the meeting in Nashville?” Davy’s father sat down on the edge of the bed, “No Davy, I didn’t, what did he say?” The six year old sat up and looked very seriously into his fathers eyes. “Well, he didn’t come over to talk to me especially, at least I don’t think he did. You see Pa, I dropped my cap and Preacher Jones got it for me. Then he spoke to me.” Davy quickly quieted and turned his eyes downward. “Well Davy...is that all, you said that he talked to you?” “He did Pa, he told me that I should tell the LORD that I want to be a christian when I grow up...when I can understand how to be saved.” His father sat there as if waiting. “Well pa, I do want to tell the LORD that when I am older I want to follow Him. Preacher said that I should tell Him that being a Christian is my desire...and Pa...I want to tell the LORD now.” Suddenly Davy’s face started to shine, “I want to be a true follower of JESUS just like you and ma have become.” Davy’s pa smiled the biggest smile that Davy ever saw. “That is great Davy, that is absolutely wonderful.” He scooped Davy up in his arms and brought him over to the handmade wooden rocking chair. “Why don’t you tell the LORD of your decision right now Davy, and then I will rock my boy to sleep...you aren’t too old for me to rock now, are you?” Davy grinned a sheepish looking grin, “I’ll never be too old for that Pa, never!”

A MAN AND HIS DAUGHTER

I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday, Dec. 15th 1966. Prudence nor I could believe how well everything went, for this was the day Elizabeth Grace was due to be born. All through the expectant time my little Prudence was told about the normal two or three weeks late, so when her time came at 5:15 A.M. on the appropriate day, we were nearly hesitant to leave for the hospital. There was no traffic on the roads, no other maternity patients and the doctor was already present. The labor lasted only seven minutes after we got there. That alone must have been some sort of record. Of course I was nervously pacing the waiting room when the nurse appeared holding this beautiful little package. “Here you go, Mr. Williamson,” she said smiling. “And you were correct, you had a little girl.” Now I smiled. It had been a running joke of sorts with the doctor and nurses ever since our first appointment. Somehow it was as if the Lord had told me that this, our first child, was going to be a girl. It was not the common “intuition” that a parent occasionally has, but a definite, I am positive, without-a-doubt, feeling. The whole lot of them were accustomed to parental guesses, but I was absolutely sure that a boy was not even a remote possibility. What made the situation a bit different though was the fact that my instinct was that the baby was going to be a girl, whereas most men leaned towards the desire of a boy as their first child. But again, this was not personal want, for as long as the little one and Prudence were in good health, the sex made no matter to me. All in all, the situation reminded me of the case in the Bible about the birth of John the Baptist. God had an angel deliver a message to Zacharias, that his barren wife, Elizabeth, would conceive a child. This angel told Zacharias that the child would be a son and even what name he was to give to him. Of course, Richard Jonathan Williamson saw no angel, but the surety was there just the same. And now here I was, staring at this tiny and delicate gift from God. The reaction which I had was totally unexpected. I was neither frightened nor hesitant. I was overwhelmed. Here was life. From literally nothing but the union of two people there was now a living, breathing, feeling person. She was beautiful. I was absorbed by what I saw. That God could do this, that life could be there where it previously was not, was nothing short of a miracle. I have heard many testify of the wonderfulness of the birth of a child, but never was I prepared for this. For long minutes I just looked. It was like witnessing the creation of the universe, I was in complete awe. She didn’t cry, that was the first thing I noticed. And she looked at me. Not towards me, not in my direction. But she looked directly at me, as if there was no nurse holding her, nothing else present in the whole room. I felt so...special. Like there was something between us that would always be there. More so than with most children. This strange influence, the best word I can use to describe this feeling, was similar to the one I had about her being a girl, not a boy. No doubts, just a sense of fact. Her face, though only minutes old, reminded me so much of her mother lying in the next room. Just as the whole morning and delivery went excellently, she seemed to fit right in. Everything about her was perfect. Her facial features were so exquisite, it was as if the Lord Himself had molded her. In a sense, Richard knew that to be true, but he had never noticed it this way before. Truly Elizabeth Grace was a sign of His handiwork. Her little hands were so tender, without touching them he could tell. They were both curled up, as if the fingers were clutching something that wasn’t there. No flaws. No improvements needed, as the business world would say about a man-made product. Never again would I think of a child as anything less than the miraculous work of a mighty, supreme God. Especially this child.Would you like to hold her, Mr. Williamson?” the young lady said, probably taken back some by my not yet asking her to do so. “Of course”, I replied, easing Elizabeth Grace into my arms. It was as if she had always been there, as if that was where she belonged. “Oh, would you care to see your wife now? She is doing just fine,” the nurse stated. “Yes, yes,” I said. “Please forgive me. It’s just that this is all new to me...I assumed everything went all right.” She assured me it did, but I felt like an awful clod, not inquiring about the state of Prudence. I brought Elizabeth Grace in and handed her to Prudence. They were so beautiful, I felt so undeserving. Prudence Ann smiled her usual bright smile, the one that caused me to notice her so many years ago. “Well, what do you think Richard?” I sat on the bed beside her. “Just like her mother, she is as pretty as she can be.” I knew as I said the words that the description for both of them was far too weak. I reached out my hand to hold hers. “How do you feel darling?” I asked quietly. “Fine. Believe it or not, it only hurt a for a few moments. Doctor Blair told me that it has been years since he has had such a smooth delivery.” She sat up slightly. “They say that I can leave in two days instead of the normal three. It is some sort of new system to get mothers back home more quickly.” Catching my concerned look, Prudence added, “Don’t worry. I can’t leave unless everything is going perfectly well. The doctor assured me that I would not be discharged if there were any problems at all.” “Okay,” I said. “You know I want you home, but make sure he doesn’t release you just to clear a bed.” It was only one day, I don’t know what I was worried about. I have always been a stickler for being careful when it came to the well-being of Prudence. We talked for some time as she nursed the baby. Just sitting there talking to the only love I ever knew, as she held our newborn treasure, gave me a sense of joy that would be difficult to put into words. It seemed like an eternity, the two hours we had just conversing and holding hands. People in the fast-paced world of the sixties seemed to need new cars and bigger houses to make them happy. But my peace comes from being with my loved ones. Peace is what I had this day.


THE FOOLISH YOUNG LASS AND THE WISE OLD WOMAN

Gabrielle May Robinson was quite distraught. It was February 15th, 1878 and surely this was the worst day of the 16 year old girl’s life. Despondent, the thin, well-complexioned girl dropped most unladylike onto one of the many benches that adorned Auburn Park.

It was a beautiful day in all respects, unless you had the particularly terrible outlook on life as one certain lass had at the moment. But the physical setting of this nice country village was absolutely wonderful; the gorgeous oak trees surrounding the small lake, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the gentle breeze blowing on those that decided to partake of the most enjoyable atmosphere. But Gabrielle cared not.

As she pondered over her situation in life; which is what was the cause of her present failing attitude, the girl slumped down even more, giving her a very sloppy and dejected appearance to anyone who happened to be walking by. And at this exact moment there was someone strolling past. In contrast to our lady of the story, Gabrielle, this woman was quite up in years; at least sixty of them would be the average man’s guess, and she was pleasant to say the least. In fact the aged woman seemed to have a glow about her entire countenance. So evident was this, that poor Gabrielle nearly sighed aloud with remorse when the lady took up the vacant place on the bench right next to her! Disgruntled, the young girl desired to be left alone to wallow in her own self pity. Well, certainly this grandmother type would not interrupt Gabrielle’s plans of doting on her troubles and tribulations? The young girl felt more at ease when the stranger took out a book and quietly began to read.

For long minutes the two of them sat side by side; one becoming more discouraged and discontent with life as the time passed, the other silently taking in the pages of what was before her. Then the old woman folded the book closed and joined Gabrielle in staring at the countryside. But whereas the girl’s eyes were shallow and uninterested, the others’ was enjoying all around her; the birds, the beautiful trees, the family by the lake enjoying a picnic lunch. And as the reader of this story would expect, the woman of years broke the silence with a question. “What is your name, young lady?” Not at all desiring to give it, as the woman may be looking for conversation (as many older women seem to be out of sheer lonliness), but realizing that to not do so would be rude in manners, Gabrielle supplied the woman with her full name, and added on “Ma’am” at the end, of course, as only the worst of children did not display such respect for their elders. “Pretty name” said the stranger. “Is it Gabrielle with an “e”?” Gabrielle nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Looking at the scenery, Gabrielle was surprised by the next question offered by the one next to her. “You are not here to enjoy and relax, are you Gabrielle?” Glancing in the other’s direction, she was almost startled by her pointed inquiry. Then the young lady honestly answered, “No, ma’am, I am here to take a momentary break from my life...and...to dream of a different one.” Shocked at her own bluntness, Gabrielle looked out into the picturesque landscape. Who was this woman and how could she have so easily guessed that Gabrielle was troubled? Now the aged woman turned and with a truly compassionate face asked, “What ails you lass? Is it the death of a loved one, or is someone sick?” Gabrielle shook her head. “No, nothing like that...it’s just...” The girl ceased speaking and stared again glassy eyed at the terrain. The bespectacled lady; this was the first time that Gabrielle noticed that the woman wore eyeglasses, looked at her more directly this time. Very personal...very sincere...the woman spoke.

You can tell me Gabrielle, I will listen. And Gabrielle did. “It is my life,” she started. “I have four brothers and two sisters and I am the oldest. I am forever doing chores; cleaning the home, caring for the little ones, teaching the older ones...” With a sigh, she wiped a tear from her eye and glanced upward at the clear blue sky. “I will never have a different life. Years will go by and I will still be burdened with tasks not meant for me.” Wide-eyed, Gabrielle was dreaming out loud. “I was meant to marry into a well-to-do family; ask any of my aunts, they will tell you so, where I could hire a body to help with the children and another body to tend to the necessary responsibilities.” Taking a breath, Gabrielle felt better now. So glad to have another to sympathize with her frustrating role in life that was given to her, to have someone else’s pity and understanding would be a great comfort. “How do you know, Gabrielle, that these tasks were not meant for you?” What? Gabrielle’s mind raced. “What do you mean, ma’am?” she inquired. “Do you not see my situation, how wearied I am with labor and responsibility?” Face to face, the other spoke. They were kind words, yet they were true and piercing to Gabrielle’s heart. “Perhaps the Master has called you to this life.” Gabrielle’s countenance fell instantly! Her head dropped as if in shame. The very words that she never wanted to hear! Anything but those words! Tenderly the old woman leaned over. “Gabrielle...do you know the Savior?” As if frozen, the young girl sat there unmoving. Then finally, “Yes ma’am...I do...five years ago I became one of His children...but...” The other finished the sentence. “You do not live for the Master, do you Gabrielle?” Quickly the young girl turned to this stranger that had so easily ventured on the truth. “You must remember the words of Jesus, my child. In Matthew 16:24 our Lord said to those already His, ‘If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me.’ If this is where the Lord has placed you, then take it as your cross. Deny yourself Gabrielle and in serving...you will be following Him.” Gabrielle said just then, slowly and carefully choosing her words, “And I knew that the solution was giving my life to Him but it is so hard.” Intently now, the older woman spoke. “You must do it though. You will have no peace at all until you submit to His will,,,until you take up your cross and follow Him.” Gabrielle broke down and cried. And oh, did she cry! The stranger gently put her arms around her. The young girl wept for many minutes. “Oh, I have been such a fool!” she exclaimed. Soon the emotion subsided and the older woman spoke once more. “I will leave you now, my .friend, so you can talk to the Master alone.” Regaining her composure, Gabrielle smiled: something she had not done in a while. “Yes,” she stated, “I will talk to Him now, without delay...and thank you.” The glowing elderly woman smiled a genuine smile. “We shall meet again Gabrielle. If not on this earth, it will be at the Saviour’s feet on the other side. Goodbye my friend.” As she turned to go, it was Gabrielle’s turn for a question. “By the way ma’am, what is your name? I never received it.” The wise old woman responded faintly, “Isabella, my dear...Isabella Alden. But believe it or not my friends call me Pansy.” And with those words, she went on her way.



Pansy was the pen name for Isabella Alden, a wonderful Christian author who penned many godly fiction books in the late 1800's and early 1900's. Pansy was the aunt of another famous writer, Grace Livingston Hill

A MIRACLE

Suzy Harwood glanced up. The alarm clock had malfunctioned again, she now was an hour late for work. Skipping her normal morning preparation, Suzy threw on a plain pink dress and hurried towards the kitchen. Rich was eating breakfast, a smug expression on his face as he noticed his sister. “You’re late again” he snapped. Without hesitating, she answered, “Just worry about yourself brother.” Ever since he started his job with the Los Angeles Crime Unit, he was irritable and uneasy. Suzy couldn’t blame him, with all of the killing and bloodshed. But with the economy so tight, it was up to the two of them to support the family. Still...his edginess and outright rudeness bothered her at times.

Mrs. Harwood eased the tension. “Now let us not ruin the morning.” In her late fifties, the pleasant-faced woman looked ten years older. Rich got up from the table and responded. “No need to be concerned mother, I have to leave for work now.” Spitefully, he glanced at his sister and gave her a smug look. “I, for one, like to be on time.” Suzy ignored the comment as he exited and she then put her eggs into the microwave. Three seconds later they were done, sunnyside up, just the way she liked them. Of course, the young girl had to push away the thought that these were imitation eggs that were packaged in a two by two silver-lined box. Suddenly considering her tardiness, Suzy decided to eat them on the way. Leaning over, she kissed her mother on the cheek. “I will see you in a few hours mother and please remember to lock the doors and window bars.” As the elder Harwood was digesting the daily newspaper, she nodded slightly in response.

Suzy went in the direction of the living room, but hesitated when she saw her father sitting on the couch, gazing trance-like at the television set. It had been almost five years since he had spoken a word. Television seemed to be his life, but even that three-dimensional box ceased to bring out any emotion from him. She noticed the newscast and it was typical for the weekend; 35 murders, dozens of fires and literally hundreds of robberies of different sorts. Suzy hugged her father and as usual he was unresponsive. It was difficult to see him this way, especially remembering how close they were when she was a young girl. Many times thinking about the past brought tears to her eyes. Her ponderings were interrupted. “Aren’t you late dear?” questioned Mrs. Harwood standing at the door between the living room and the kitchen. Suzy snapped back reality and started for the door. As she said goodbye and began walking down the driveway, Suzy opened the door to her small compact car, got in and started it. Suddenly, and very strangely...her mother appeared in the doorway, frantically waving her hands! Suzy’s mind raced. What could be wrong! Another war announced on the news! Did her father just collapse with his final heart attack? The doctors warned him years ago. “Inside...quick!” yelled Mrs. Harwood. They ran in only to find Mr. Harwood, not laying unconscious on the floor by any means, but standing up, his face glowing! Almost in a lunge he grabbed his daughter’s arm and pointed to the television set. The excited man was actually smiling! So was the newsman on the set! Whatever could get this response? thought Suzy. She listened intently as the still-smiling newscaster spoke. “To repeat this special bulletin, the event will take place within the next two hours in the Tri-City Mall just north of Los Angeles.” Suzy could not believe her ears! “Dad...is it...” The older man interrupted, Yes honey it is...it really is!”


All in the room instantly became silent as the man on the screen continued speaking. “This is no false alarm ladies and gentlemen, this event has been verified.” Mr. Harwood caught his breath. “Mother you take the little car and pick Rich up and meet Suzy and I there.” Without delay the three of them were out the door.

Driving through downtown everyone was clearly excited. People of all ages, colors and status were cheering and shouting; some held banners and whistles and other party items. The dreariness and almost death-like appearance that had overtaken much of Los Angeles the last thirty years was somehow changed by the hysteria of this event. People that normally lived a life of depression and fear were now pleasant and happy. Even a few of the Bush people as they were called, could be seen entering from the wooded areas outside of town. The Bushmen had left society years ago due to its evils and wickednesses and were rarely ever seen.

A short time later, Mr. Harwood and Suzy were at the Tri-City Mall...along with a few thousand others! Finding a parking space on the grass, the two of them hurried out. The doorways were packed. The Crime Unit Police sent for riot control had abandoned their posts and were trying to get as close as they could to where the “event” was going to take place. This was similar to the old sporting events, thought Mr. Harwood. The gathering of the masses to see the players. In fact, the enthusiasm was much the same. But this certainly was no game! Everyone was waiting and anticipating. And surely not just those here, but those throughout the whole world! This was the day and the Harwood family would be here to see it!

Suzy spotted the area where it looked like everyone was gathering. “Over there Dad” she said, nodding her head. They got as close as they could. Suddenly a stranger appeared. Having edged through the crowd as all the others, he ended up directly next to Suzy. It was one of the Bushmen. Due to his strange garb and somewhat dirty appearance. It was obvious that he was one of them. The man was also very tall, much more so than anyone else in the room and Suzy took advantage of that. “Excuse me...do you see anything?” The man responded by giving a strange stare. It was not often one of the Bush was spoken to, when they were even seen, that is. “Yes, what do you see?” added Mr. Harwood excitedly. Both of them were like children at a birthday party. The man of the Bush answered, “Well, there are many lights...it is hard to see anything clearly.” He glanced in the direction of the Harwoods. “What is going on here? I saw all of the vehicles...and decided to come and see what was occuring.” Suzy momentarily ignored his question and pressed him again. “Do you see anything at all...you’ve got to see something.” Trying even harder to inch up, the stranger peered as best he could to get a view of the excitement. “There” he stated, “I see some doctors I guess...about ten of them...and a...computer-that is all I see...and they seem to be surrounding something...a table I think.” He relaxed his body and questioned his nefound friends, “Now will you please tell me what is going on?” Suzy instantly calmed, her mood became one of seriousness. “Remember during the seventies of the last century, a law was passed that allowed a woman to terminate her pregnancy?” The strange man nodded. “Yes, I read it in the history books. My grandfather also told me that the trend got worse and worse.” “It did” Suzy stated. “By 2015, over 50 million babies were...well...put to death. The poor young lady sobbed, trying to control her emotions. It had been so long since she had shed a tear. She struggled for words. “By 2025, 80% of the babies being born conceived were aborted, cruelly killed by surgical means.” Suzy could not go on. Her father brought his arm up to her shoulder.

The Bush man responded. “I could never understand how anyone could take the life of their own flesh and blood. This practice was one of many reasons why my ancestors left the old world.” Mr. Harwood stepped closer. “I could never grasp it myself, young man. Many people gave reasons of simple convenience, others just lived immorally...and yet others were purely selfish.” The stranger shook his head, greatly distressed. He looked over the increasing crowd before him. What did todays excitement have to do with these horrible events of the past? Suzy then spoke up. “Then a few years later a disease appeared. It only affected children.” The dark man listened intently. “I knew nothing of that. We stopped our contact with the old world about twenty years ago.” Suzy continued, “About 75% of all children died as a result of this disease, but then in 2032 something happened...” She glanced at her dad, who nodded in her direction as if to give her some strength. “Because of everything, the terminations, the disease...women...well...built up sort of an immunity to...well, to become pregnant. They could have no more children.” Suzy, as if still in disbelief, dropped her head in despair. Mr. Harwood stepped in. “No one quite knew what had happened. But with all the little ones gone, life seemed to dwindle away. The joy of comforting a crying youngster and teaching an infant to take that first step...were no more. People became bitter because there were no children to love.” Suzy’s face was red now and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Slightly louder, Mr. Harwood spoke again. “Perhaps this event will bring the joy back. Look at those around us-they are are full of happiness and joy! Perhaps after today, this world will treasure life and never interfere with God’s gift again.” As the older man comforted Suzy, he saw Mrs. Harwood and Rich approaching them through the immense crowd and both were smiling. As the two of them got closer, it looked as if Rich was starting to speak, but then he was interrupted. One sudden sound cut through all the chatter and noise. It was the sound of a newborn baby’s cry.



Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.”

Psalm 127:3


Give them, O Lord: what wilt thou give? Give them a miscarrying womb and dry breasts.”

Hosea 9:14


Ephraim is smitten, their root is dried up, they shall bear no fruit: yea, though they bring forth, yet will I slay even the beloved fruit of their womb.”

Hosea 9:16



COMMENTS WORKING

I apologize, I realized this morning that people were unable to leave comments.
This has now been fixed.

THE FREEDOM OF A MAN

Tobias Jeffrey Davis was ready for this day. Almost like a dream, it was hardly possible that it would ever truly come. But it was finally here and Tobias was surely awake.

Big Tobias, as his friends called him, was a slave. He did stand large, well over six feet tall, and he man looked strong as an ox. Unfortunately over the years, his master had taken notice of his unusual muscle and abused him; sometimes expecting twice as much out of him as any others. Never did Tobias disappoint him. And never again would he have the opportunity to do so, for slavery was now against the law of the states and at daylight he would be pronounced a free man. The north having won the abominable war, the black man was no more the slave to the white.

Bowing reverently, the God-fearing man bowed to the floor. Looking around at the dozens of men in the bunk-filled room, only one or two did not join in on the ritual of prayer that took place every morning. As usual, the thanks and requests to the Creator were many and were given in obvious sincerity. Thirty minutes later, the lot of them left the building and headed for the river. It was there that all the slaves of the McFarley ranch were to be released. As James McFarley spoke, the feelings that swelled through Tobias’ soul were unexplainable. The man that previously had many times whipped and beaten him, now stood there before everyone, telling each one that they were free to go. Of course, if not for the lawman next to McFarley, none of the men would be able to leave, as the master was not one to care for laws and ordinances. Hard to believe that in only minutes, Tobias, his wife Ruth, and their boy Malachi, would be off to a new life. Where exactly they had no idea, but they all trusted in their God as to the Future.

The speech was short, then all began to disperse. Freedom. Tobias’ emotions surged. Tears began to roll from the big man’s eyes. The burden was gone to serve another man for another man’s profit. The Lord had gotten him through these horrendous years. Tobias felt no anger, no sense of vengeance; for he knew that all men would stand before God one day and receive their just reward. But Tobias felt grateful. His heart was full of joy as he thought of the deliverance that his Lord had given him and all of the others that had been in the same situation. Looking up at the sun that was now rising, the emotional man slowly began to sing. “Amazing grace...” His voice lifting higher now, Tobias wiped the tears from his eyes and started again. As he did, a few others turned to listen. “Amazing grace...” There was a few seconds delay as those that looked, stopped to watch. “How sweet the sound...” Tobias’ voice being quite loud caught the attention of many; for nearly all had ceased their labors and movements to hear the powerful words. In fact, the women and children were coming out of the various buildings. The sun shining brightly in his eyes, Tobias sang as if no one else was present. The words were drawn out and each syllable was emphasized. “That saved a wretch like me.” Freedom! Even McFarley and his hands quieted and stood in awe. “I once was lost, but now I am found.” The former slave took a step towards the river and on his face was a smile, a large smile that evidenced pure joy. “Was blind, but now I see.” Slowly now, nearly all of the others that were preparing to leave joined in the singing and simultaneously they walked to Tobias as well. Surely over a hundred black men and their families stood there, facing the beautiful sunrise. “Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved; how precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed.”

In unison, the voices rang out triumphantly! “Thru many dangers, toils and snares I have already come; Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.” Tobias’ wife and child ran to him, the boy clutching at his father’s torn pant leg. Now all were silent and every eye was on the big man as he finished the last verse. More tears appeared from each eye. “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise, then when we’ve first begun.” For long seconds they all stood, then slowly and with no words they left the beautiful river and the glorious sunrise.





THE STORM

Fred!” yelled Norma from the front of the home. “It looks like a nasty storm coming and the horses are out!” Quickly the burly man jumped up from the wood-burning stove, where he had been fixing the cast-iron door. Fred Blanton’s wife normally quiet and very organized wife of 20 years was suddenly frantic and scared. And Fred knew why. The ten stallions, fine horses every one, had been sold to Bruester Farms only yesterday and tomorrow they were to be picked up. If something happened to any of them, Fred would be responsible and the money at this time was very much needed for the family. “Douse the lamps honey and watch the boys” he said as he looked out the window. “This looks like the worst weather around these parts in years.” Grabbing a jacket, he leaned over and gave Norma a kiss on the cheek. “Pray dear and I will be back in a few minutes.” Here he was, thought Fred, farming ever since he was a boy and this year of 1878 looked like it was going to be a doozy for tornadoes and rainstorms of all sorts.

Dashing out the door, Fred ran as hard and as fast as he could. The wind was powerful like he had never seen before, nearly knocking him down many times. Lightning flashed through the sky, sometimes striking the top of the barn that Fred stood right next to. Hurridly, the determined man led the horses in one by one. Done! Now to get back to the house safely. Looking in the direction of the two-story home, Fred could see his wife through the window. “I’ll be there in a few seconds honey,” the anxious man murmured to himself quietly. Barely able to see due to the wind-driven sand and dirt, he struggled through the unseen force, making very little headway. In just the last few seconds it seemed that the winds had increased a tremendous amount. The rain was also heavier and Fred was soaked! Just as made it past the barn, a blinding bolt of lightning suddenly appeared! Knocked to the wet and cold ground, the last thing that Fred thought of, was that at least if he died, Norma would have enough money to get by for a while due to the sale of the horses.

Fred awoke. The rain had stopped and as he got up, he saw the sky was now clear. Strange. How did the horrendous storm disappear so quickly? Something was wrong...things looked different. The house was pretty much the same, but the barn was nearly destroyed and there were large thick poles all over the property and they were connected to one another with massive heavy wires. What happened? Did a tornado carry me miles away and this was not my home, just one that looked somewhat like it? As Fred was tossing these thoughts around, he began to make his way towards the house. It was then that he heard the scream! And it was followed by some of the most vulgar words of profanity that Fred had ever heard! How dare someone use those words in my home! As he got closer, Fred realized that though there were some definite physical changes, how they get there he would investigate later, this was surely the Blanton home.

Bursting through the front door, Fred saw no sign of Norma. But again he heard more swearing coming from the next room! Intruders! Must be...oh if anyone has hurt my dear wife...or my three precious boys? Turning the corner, Fred saw a strange man standing at the kitchen table. The kitchen table...in fact, the whole room, appeared different...somewhat similar...yet...different. Come to think of it, so did the living room. But Fred had no time to consider these things presently.


Some stranger...some man that Fred had never seen before...was in his home. The other man saw Fred and with a look of astonishment, began to move quickly towards him. Wham! Fred was faster and within seconds the unknown man was on the floor, unconscious. Yet, there was still more noise! People talking and even yelling! With no carefulness, the frenzied man rushed into the next room. Much to Fred’s disbelief, no one was there! But in the center of the room was a box and somehow that is what was producing the noises and the voices! What in the world...? The box had what appeared to be a sheet of glass on one side. Fred curiously stepped forward, eyeing this box very closely as if it was dangerous. There were...people...inside the box? I don’t understand. Getting even closer now, Fred suddenly darted around the back. No people here. What was he saying? People in a box...little people? Fred had to examine this box closer. Going to the glass again, he realized that these were ... not real people, they were...pictures. How? Surely, he had seen pictures before. In fact, he had some pictures at home that a photographer had taken in town two years ago. But these pictures spoke? Fred circled the box again. So, these were not real people trapped in this...thing...but rather pictures...or images.” Suddenly the yelling occurred again and the already disoriented man jumped back in fright! Such words! Words that pierced his soul! In his home...his home! Words that normally could only be heard in the vilest of places! And here was this...box...with images of people that said these vulgarities over and over! As if in instinct, Fred peered around to see any sign of Norma or the boys. What if these words were heard by my Norma or my boys? How terrible! Almost instantaneously, he developed a hatred for this ungodly box. Oh, how he wept as he heard for the third time in only seconds, the name of God used in a way that was vain and blasphemous! For certainly, these vulgar persons, or rather these images, were not calling upon Him in reverence! Then a female...a woman...repeated the wicked phrase again! Enough! Fred’s heart cried out in anguish! As if the mysterious box somehow beckoned to his pleading soul, the glass went completely blank! But only for seconds. An image of a lone man, dressed very sharply, appeared now. This image also spoke. “ The conservatives in America have been hindered again. For 11 years now, abortion has been legal. Statistics reveal that at least five million babies have been terminated since this time.” Fred’s eyes grew large. Did the man say babies? Terminated? Dead? His heart sank. By the parents? No, it couldn’t be! Babies dead...apparently killed by the mother? The picture again produced words. “Some cry out that abortion is simple murder, but the Supreme Court has determined that a mother has a right to do whatever she pleases with her own body. It has been legally decided that the fetus in the womb is not life, until after the time of birth.” With those words, Fred grieved beyond description. With a grim and determined look, he walked towards the box. Such blasphemous words...such horror! Fred decided that this evil had to be stopped! Awkwardly, the distraught man pushed the insidious thing backwards with all of his might! Pieces went everywhere! The noise however instantly stopped and to Fred’s satisfaction, the images were no more. Breathing deep, he stood for long seconds staring at the object on the floor. He shuddered. Oh, how frightful...how damning of a thing. And in a home. Suddenly, Fred had a very serious and sober thought. Only the devil himself would desire this monster, that was the most appropriate word Fred could think of, to be amongst a family. A noise heard, the wearied man hastily remembered his surroundings and his missing family.


Attempting not to dwell on the strangeness of his home, Fred went to the source of the sound that he heard. A cat scurried out from behind a chair that he had never seen before. Glancing around each room, Fred was very discouraged when there was no sign of his family. In fact, the only human being that could be found was the intruder that he had encountered. Fred did notice the pictures that were in every room. There were many of them and some were even colored. Oddly, none of them were of his family. But then something caught Fred’s eye. It was the date on one of the photos. 1989? What? 1989? How...what? His mind racing, the farmer recalled the box...the filthy words...the murder of babies before they even came into the world...God’s name being used so wickedly. In horror, Fred Blanton began to cry. His eyes were like that of a deranged and grief-stricken man! Like a madman, his brain being unable to comprehend all that he had witnessed in the last few minutes of his life, Fred turned and ran out the door! Hurrying towards the barn he noticed the eeriness of the sky. How utterly weird! A storm had started and it was not unlike the one he was in just a short time ago. Thunder, hail, lightning and suddenly a magnificent wind! The rain followed and drenched the poor man in mere seconds. Almost to the barn now, Fred could hardly believe his own eyes. Horses! Ten of them, all Stallions! What? But I put all of them away? Stopping, he looked up into the heavens, then slowly peered again at the animals, who were becoming somewhat frantic due to the weather. Instinctively, Fred ran to them and took a moment to lead them all into the old and decaying barn. Safe now, Fred turned and without warning, was suddenly enveloped in a bright flash! Lightning! Unconscious, the stocky farmer lay on the cold and wet ground.

Rain. It was hitting him furiously. Fred had a cold chill as he stood and regained his senses. What now...what is going on? The barn was no longer of a run-down appearance! Shaking his head, he got another chill. The rain was a cold rain and the lightning was getting more fierce by the second. Towards his home, he ran. As he did, Fred noticed that the strange poles were gone! Strange. From the distance and even through the blur of the driving storm, Fred saw an image at the window. It was Norma.



For many years I have been attempting to get God’s people as well as lost people to see the difference in what we now consider acceptable. The Bible forbids much of what comes into the living room in our homes today via the television set and other inventions. Often I have stated what a shock it would be to most people from the 1800's if they were to step into a home of this century and set their eyes in front of what many view from day to day. Through this fiction story, I pray that some will discern the slide which our world has taken in recent years and go back to the old paths and walk therein.

THE ACCIDENT

So what are you, Mr. Holier than thou?” quipped the curly-haired teenager sharply. Ian Langley, the lankiest of the group that stood around the lockers at Wellsboro High School, calmly answered. “No Matt, it’s just that...well... I don’t want to drink anymore. I told you, I have changed now.” The third boy spoke up and while he did, he playfully punched Ian on the arm. “C’mon Ian, be cool man. A few drinks never hurt anybody. Didn’t Jesus turn water into wine?” Steve’s wavy hair hung sloppily over his eyes. Ian’s thoughts drifted quickly. He had changed. Just three days ago, the fifteen year-old had surrendered his life to Jesus Christ. The boy knew when he was presented with the good news of the gospel, that he had a choice to make. That night as he heard the preacher, Ian was convinced that he was in trouble, that he was a terribly sinful person and that he deserved the judgment of God. He recognized like never before, that many of the things that he had done; the drinking, the swearing, occasional stealing, all were wrong in the eyes of God. Feeling like he was under God’s wrath, the youth decided that he needed to get right with God and also that he wanted a better life, a changed life. The preacher said that anyone who turned to Christ sincerely would have a new power over sinful habits and practices. And Ian knew that he was tired and ashamed of the late nights, the bullying others that he and his friends did, the shoplifting and the drunkenness that took place two or three nights a week. So Ian believed what the preacher read from the Bible, believed that he was wicked and sinful and that he was headed for eternal punishment and lastly, believed that his only hope was in the Lord Jesus Christ who shed his blood on the cross for Ian’s sins. That evening, the young man became a Christian in the true sense of the word, and he understood that he was to follow Christ and do what pleased Him. Strangely, at the moment he believed, the desire to ever drink alcohol again immediately left the teenager, and that was surely his most prevalent sin.

Ian was startled by another sensation of pain in his arm. “Well buddy, at least answer us. Are you in dreamland or what?” Ian looked aggravated at Steve who punched him and said softly to all of them, “No, I am not going out tonight guys. Sorry, I am not interested in drinking anymore or going to any more parties.” Matt instantaneously rolled his eyes. :What a fool! C’mon Steve, forget it, this guy is lost! You think you know somebody for years and then they turn their back on you. Let’s not waste our time on this jerk anymore!” The two of them started to walk away when Steve stopped and moved closer to Ian, only inches from his face. His irritation was evident. “What happened to you Ian, did’ya get brainwashed or something? Did ya join the Religious Freaks Club? What happened?” The frazzled boy glanced unconsciously at the floor as he thought for a few seconds, then responded, “I became a Christian the other day Steve...I really did...and I don’t know how to explain it...but I know that parties and the bars are not where I belong anymore.” Curiously, the other youth stared back. He had never heard anything like this before, it just made no sense to him. Pondering over his friend’s words, the wavy-locked teenager shook his head, then slowly walked away. Sure that he had made the correct choice, Ian gathered together his necessary books and left for home.

It was now ten o’clock; midnight was just around the corner. Ian was home with his mother, who had been sick for days with the flu. The young man was turning off the dishwasher when he heard his mother call for him from the next room.

Ian, I’m out of medicine! I know it’s late, but could you run up the drug store and get a prescription filled for me?” Smiling, the boy came around the corner and grabbed his jacket from the hall closet. “Sure” he said, “I would be glad to.” His mother lay on the couch, wrapped in a heavy blanket. She coughed painfully, then eyed her son suspiciously. “What has come over you tonight Ian?” the ill woman asked as she handed Ian a slip of paper. “First, you tell me that you are not going out with your friends, then you clean the kitchen and do the dishes and now you say you don’t mind running an errand for me?” Mrs. Langley leaned up slightly and raised her eyebrows. “Did you get in trouble at school today?” Ian smiled again as he reached the front door. “No mom,” he said, feeling good that for once he was being honest with his mother. He sadly remembered the numerous times that he lied about where he was going or what he was doing. That clear conscience that Ian sensed right now was a new experience and he would not trade that for anything! “I’ll talk to you when I get back mom, and no, for once it’s not bad news.” Now smiling herself, Ian’s mother sat back
with a relieved look as her son left the house. As Ian got about halfway to the 24 hour drug store, the silence of the night was suddenly interrupted by the high-pitched sound of screeching tires. And the car belonging to those tires was increasingly getting closer!

The maroon sports car, complete with stripes down both sides, turned the corner sharply and increased speed. The driver must be crazy! As the vehicle literally roared by him, the teenager quickly stepped up onto the farthest edge of the sidewalk. The hot rod whizzed by, going what seemed like 80 miles an hour! Eyes searching, Ian hoped that a police car might suddenly appear and stop this madman. But to no avail. It was then that Ian remembered! Oh no! The construction work up ahead! He looked and saw that directly in the center of the street was the large crane that the road crew had been using the last few days. Numerous orange warning cones were visible around the big vehicle, but they certainly would not hinder the dangerous machine that was now heading straight for it! Ian knew that the inevitable was about to occur and yet he could do absolutely nothing about it!

As Ian bellowed out a worthless scream of warning through the near empty street, the sports car plowed into the safety cones, sending them everywhere! Then with an enormously loud crash, the vehicle impacted with the massive crane! There was no slow motion about the scene as some recall how they witnessed certain tragic events. The hot rod had met it’s cruel fate, and that in mere seconds! The car instantly folded like an accordion! Immediately following the deafening, almost explosive, sound of the impact came the strange noise of the metal of the car literally crunching and bending!

Ian ran! He was not quite sure, but it appeared that someone was ejected from the passenger seat. As he raced past the car towards the still form that lay ahead on the concrete, Ian was startled by an unexpected shriek of pure horror! It was the driver! He was still alive, though surely not for long. The pitiful sound was one of agony...there was no other word to appropriately describe it! As Ian turned, the most likely once-popular sports car burst into flames! Within seconds, the terrified voice, sounding hardly even human, lessened in volume, and then was no more. Tears were visible in Ian’s eyes. Never before had he felt so helpless, to have someone die right in front of him, and in such obvious excruciating pain!

Just like that- a life is gone! Stunned, yet driven by adrenaline, the youth turned back to see if he could aid the other fellow. Miraculously as he got closer, Ian could actually see the body moving ever so slightly. The faint whine of a siren was now audible as he reached the young man that lay there and gently turned him over. It was obvious that the life of this individual was either already gone, or very nearly so. What! Steve! Steve! Oh, the indescribable pain that Ian felt throughout his entire body! To explain in detail the graphic picture as he looked upon his good friend would violate common decency. It was enough to say that Steve had only seconds left. There were enough obvious broken bones, cuts and gashes all over and certainly the poor boy had numerous internal injuries. Unbelievably however the eyes moved! Ian quickly held his friend at the shoulders as Steve attempted a hoarse and raspy breath. “Steve” cried Ian, tears streaming down his face. Nearly inaudible, the boy on the ground did his best to speak. Softly came out “Ian...Ian.” Steve’s eyes were intent and revealed an understanding demeanor, as if he comprehended the situation. “Ian” he whispered again, then coughed. Ian wiped away his tears and leaned closer. Was Steve trying to tell him something? Taking a half-breath, Steve spoke again, this time slower but clearer. “You were right Ian...you were right.” Immediately after those words, Steve almost casually lay back his head and closed his eyes. The young boy of seventeen years was dead. He had breathed his last breath in the arms of his friend. Crying uncontrollably, Ian gripped the lifeless body before him with all of his might. The shear helplessness and utter agony that he felt was beyond description. His friend that he had known for so many years had entered the next life! No doubt, he was already in that place of torment and pain! For Steve, there was no more time that could be put off, no more tomorrow on this earth. If only he had believed in the Saviour! But it was too late for if’s. Amidst the noise of the weeping, Ian heard another sound. Turning to look, the teenager saw the source of his distraction. It was a can rolling ever so slowly from the remains of the vehicle. The sound it made as it moved across the pavement was eerie to say the least. Ian, still eyeing the can, gradually lay down his friend and stood. As the boy approached the object, his adrenaline again began to flow and his emotions started to surge. His mind so attentive now to that can, Ian did not even consciously hear the distant sirens sounding closer by the second. The determined teenager bent down and retrieved the aluminum can. It was a beer can. And there was blood on it. Angrily, Ian crushed the can with all of his might, clenching his teeth as he did so. Drops of sweat protruded from the youth’s fingers. Enraged, the boy threw the can as far as he could! “I hate you!” he yelled. Lifting his voice even more, Ian actually screamed with every ounce of strength that he could muster. “You are a killer...a murderer!” It was obvious now that he was speaking to the can which happened to bear the name of a popular brand. Charged and fueled with feeling one last time, the exhausted boy bellowed out, “I hate you and i will never touch you again!” For long seconds Ian stood there motionless and surveyed the scene. Soon the ambulance appeared. Then the crowds. Not long after was the media. And through it all, the murderer escaped accusation. But there was one that night whose life was changed forever by the events of the evening. And that young man was Ian Langely.


Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.”

Proverbs 20:1





Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath contentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things. Yea, thou shalt be as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea, or as he that lieth upon the top of a mast. They have stricken me, shalt thou say and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt it not: when shall I awake? I will seek it yet again.”

Proverbs 23:29-35


It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.”

Romans 14:21