SO, WHEN EXACTLY DID PRIDE BECOME A VIRTUE?

 Here we are in the midst of Pride month 2024 and I cannot help but to reflect on how we got here:

First we were asked to tolerate alternate sexual lifestyles and many in the church said, "amen", we will no longer call sin sin, instead, we will say, "live and let live.  As long as homosexuals did not try to impose their sin on us - it's all good."

Not long thereafter, tolerance was no longer enough. We were asked to be accepting. Tolerance still assumed homosexuality was not normal so we were asked to view homosexuality as a  something acceptable, after all, "you can't help who you love."  Once again, many in the church said, "amen".  

Soon, mere acceptance was no longer tenable, the radicals demanded affirmation. Many in the church said, "amen" and churches began to ordain openly gay clergy and bless gay unions until a rogue Supreme Court ruling made homosexual marriage the law of the land.

Today, we are commanded by a reprobate society to celebrate sin. Pride, once considered one of the seven deadly sins, is now, somehow, a virtue.

Suddenly, refusing to celebrate something God calls sin became hate. Under the same banner of sexual freedom, we were now forced, as a culture, to accommodate mental illness by affirming transmania. You can now lose your job by referring to someone by the wrong pronouns, and if the radicals in Congress have their way, prosecution will be right around the corner.

The next move in the name of woke ideology is the normalization of pedophilia. The term Minor Attracted Person (MAP) will become more and more bandied about until anyone with common sense is too afraid to speak out in defense of children.  

We now live in a reality where those who, once upon a time, demanded tolerance are leading the charge against anyone with an opposing viewpoint. So much for tolerance...

What is the solution?

First, I think it begins with repentance on the part of God's people.

     1. Repentance for allowing our hate for sin to be an excuse to hate people. It does not matter what sin someone is caught up in, Jesus died for every sin and God desires every person be saved. Personal attacks, name calling and violence are counterproductive to the Great Commission and just as abhorrent as the sin being targeted by such behavior.

    2. Repentance for not lovingly calling sin sin. God fearing people must understand love. Love is not tolerating something God calls sin. Sexual sin, whether it be homo or hetero, is destructive to the person who commits it, as is all sin. When we chose to ignore sin in the name of tolerance, we began to do a grave injustice to those who are caught in Satan's web

    3. Repentance for being afraid to speak out. I firmly believe a silent majority has been silenced by a very vocal and very influential minority. Our silenced has marginalized us.

Scripture tells us, Proverbs 16:18 - Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. In this passage is a warning to both sides of this issue. Pride is the original sin, there is no question where the root of the Pride movement comes from. Satan brings bondage through pseudo-freedom.  

The warning for God's people in this passage is to beware the dangers of self righteousness.  We cannot choose to demonize one form of sexual sin outside the church while turning a blind eye to adultery and fornication taking place in the church. 

As believers in Christ, we commit injustice when we ignore and tolerate sexual sin, of any kind. 

As a nation that celebrates sin as virtue, America is in grave danger of God's judgment. We must pray for change in leadership at every level of government and remain vigilant as gatekeepers at our local levels. 

Our country needs a Great Awakening before it is too late and God's judgment comes Sodom and Gomorrah style!

Sadly, we are entering an era where the same tolerance demanded of us will not be extended to us because Satan cannot tolerate truth. 

BATMAN AND THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY OF JESUS?

       

       Everyone loves a good adventure story.  When we hear a good story or read about an account of an interesting or exciting event, we often imagine ourselves the main character.  For instance, if you are watching a superhero film or reading a good bool or comic, do you not, generally, identify with the main character?  Do you not, generally, imagine what you would have done differently or how cool it would have been to do what the hero has done?  Every good hero has a side kick and every good hero has ancillary characters assisting him or her to various degrees. Do you ever identify with those characters?

     When I think of Batman, and I am referring to the 1966 iteration, because I'm old and that is the Batman I grew up with, I notice four important characters: Batman, Robin, Batgirl and Commissioner Gordon. Batman is the main character, obviously, and Robin is clearly Batman's sidekick. Let's not forget, Batgirl and Commissioner Gordon play important roles as well.  

Batgirl pretty much has her own thing going on, but shows up and teams up when appropriate.  In the 1966 version, we really do not get a story arc for Batgirl.  In Batman's story, Batgirl an important side character who gets to, occasionally, share in Batman's missions.

Commissioner Gordon, in the 1966 version, seems only to exist to facilitate Batman's work. Gordon does not participate in the work but often alerts Batman of a situation with an arch-criminal and then, shows up after all the real fighting so Batman can explain how he unraveled the latest caper. 

     So, by now, you may be asking yourself, what in the world does Batman have to do with the Passion Week of Christ?

     This past weekend, I got to hear a great message from Pastor T.J. Earl of Knoxville Community Church, as he spoke on the Triumphal Entry of Christ.  A major element of the account of Christ's arrival on, what would become known forevermore as Palm Sunday, is the acquisition of the donkey ridden by Jesus.  

     I have always been intrigued by the donkey part of the story.  Mark 11:1-6 -  Now when they drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus1 sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately as you enter it you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ say, ‘The Lord has need of it and will send it back here immediately.’ ” 4 And they went away and found a colt tied at a door outside in the street, and they untied it. 5 And some of those standing there said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” 6 And they told them what Jesus had said, and they let them go.

     Clearly, in this event, Jesus is Batman and the two disciples are Robin. What can we make of the owners of the Donkey?   In my Batman 1966 analogy, I see the donkey owners as Commissioner Gordon.  Please stay with me here, I promise there is a spiritual application coming...

     Imagine, for a moment, you are the owner of a donkey and it's colt. Maybe you have a dream, or a vision, or maybe you clearly hear the voice of God tell you some random guys are going to show up and start to untie your donkeys.  God further tells you, "If they tell you the Lord needs the donkey, let them have it."  Now imagine for a moment it's not a donkey, but your car.  Do you get the idea?  

    The donkey owners seem to have no idea what is about to take place and nowhere do we see them participating.  The donkey owners are only aware God gave them some pretty bizarre instructions and they were obedient to those instructions. There is no back story, no story arc, just an appearance in the story to facilitate Jesus' mission.  

      The point of this post is to remind you, when it comes to obedience to Christ, sometimes we can be something other than the lead role and still be very important to the story.  There may be times God calls you to be Batman, the main character of a specific mission.  Other times you may be the sidekick for someone else's calling.  That's pretty cool too because you still get to participate in the action and see the results.  What happens though when God presses upon your heart to do a random act of kindness, or to give assistance to someone you will probably never see again. What happens when you are guided, by God's Spirit, to do something that seems senseless or even futile?  You may very well be acting as someone's Commissioner Gordon.  

     We can't always be the main character or the sidekick, sometimes our role in a move of God is unknown, yet our obedience is crucial to someone else fulfilling their calling.  You have no idea how a small act of obedience to something, which seems insignificant to you, can facilitate a major work of the Spirit through someone else.

     Just as Commissioner Gordon's diligent attentiveness to his work allowed Batman to be successful in his many missions, your obedience to God in small mundane tasks is important to someone. 

     Or, you may be Batgirl, busy with your own ministry or mission but, willing to assist someone else's ministry or calling as God leads.  

     Because the church is a body, every part needs every part sometimes.  It is imperative we are open to the leading and guiding of the Holy Spirit indwelling us, it is imperative we are listening for that still small voice of God, giving us direction.  Be careful you do not miss out on an opportunity to be a blessing to someone because you are too caught up in yourself or your calling.  

    It's cool to be the Batman of your own story, it's cool to be Robin and still right there in the action, and it's cool to be Batgirl doing your own thing and participating in other's activities.  Maybe Commissioner Gordon seems less cool, less important or less crucial to the mission of the Church. I think those donkey owners were pretty cool.  They were obedient to God without knowing any of the details and may not have ever known their role until they read about it in one of the Gospel accounts.  That's true cool!

    Jesus told His disciple Thomas, "you believe because you see, but blessed are those who believe who do not see."  That takes faith.  The donkey owners had to exercise faith when strangers showed up to take their donkey.  "Hey! what are you guys doing?"  "The Lord needs this."  "Oh, ok, go ahead and take him."  Being the Commissioner Gordon of someone else's mission is not always easy and certainly not glamorous, but it is essential. 

      Your seemingly small acts of obedience, your unheralded acts of kindness and your diligent pursuit of holiness is not unnoticed by  God.  Be willing and open to whatever role God calls you. Look for opportunities to be Batman but don't miss out on the opportunity to be Commissioner Gordon as well.

Now, go live as Christ... and give the devil hell!

 As we contemplate what is referred to as the Passion Week of Christ, one of the elements of the account of Christ's 

Gospel of John Part 1

A couple of years ago, the Fringe church was launched. Covid pretty much shut down our public gathering and outreach, so we adapted as an online ministry. My first series was a study through the Gospel of John. It was quite and endeavor and lasted over 40 weeks!

All our messages are available on Facebook and YouTube, in addition, I have decided to adapt the message notes into blog posts. I will be adding the full scripture passages and filling in gaps where my notes say (elaborate) so posts may not arrive weekly. I only hope these messages encourage, convict and/or help someone along the way.

I hope you get as much out of this study as I did! Feel free to leave comments or ask a question, I love to hear from my readers.

                                          A STUDY IN THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

THERE ARE 4 GOSPEL ACCOUNTS OF THE LIFE AND WORK OF JESUS CHRIST.  4 ACCOUNTS WRITTEN BY 4 MEN TO 4 DIFFERENT AUDIENCES, PRESENTING 4 DIFFERENT ASPECTS OF CHRIST’S MINISTRY AND PURPOSE.  

BEFORE WE LOOK AT JOHN, I WOULD LIKE FOR US TO TURN IN OUR BIBLES TO THE BOOK OF EZEKIEL FIRST.  EZEKIEL 1:4-10  - 4 As I looked, behold, a stormy wind came out of the north, and a great cloud, with brightness around it, and fire flashing forth continually, and in the midst of the fire, as it were gleaming metal.[a] 5 And from the midst of it came the likeness of four living creatures. And this was their appearance: they had a human likeness, 6 but each had four faces, and each of them had four wings. 7 Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf's foot. And they sparkled like burnished bronze. 8 Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. And the four had their faces and their wings thus: 9 their wings touched one another. Each one of them went straight forward, without turning as they went. 10 As for the likeness of their faces, each had a human face. The four had the face of a lion on the right side, the four had the face of an ox on the left side, and the four had the face of an eagle.

EZEKIEL SEES HERE WHAT FEW MEN EVER SEE - HEAVENLY CREATURES - ANGELIC BEINGS.  NOTICE THE DESCRIPTIONS, PARTICULARLY THE FACES OF THESE CREATURES.  THE FACES ARE VERY IMPORTANT AS WE WILL SOON SEE.

NOW, TURN WITH ME TO THE THRONE ROOM OF GOD IN REVELATION 4:5-7

AGAIN, WE SEE THE 4 REPRESENTATIONS: LION, OX, MAN AND EAGLE

LION= KING

OX = SERVANT

MAN = MAN

EAGLE = GOD

THE FOUR GOSPEL ACCOUNTS, MATTHEW, MARK, LUKE AND JOHN. ARE FOUR REPRESENTATIONS OF CHRIST AND HIS MINISTRY

1. MATTHEW PRESENTS JESUS AS A KING - THE LION

2. MARK PRESENTS JESUS AS A SERVANT - THE OX

3. LUKE PRESENTS JESUS IN HIS HUMANITY - MAN

4. JOHN PRESENTS JESUS AS GOD - THE EAGLE

THROUGHOUT THE ANCIENT WORLD, EAGLES ARE RECOGNIZED AS A REPRESENTATION OF DEITY

WE ARE GOING TO BE STUDYING THROUGH THE BOOK OF JOHN AND SEEING THE EAGLE.  JESUS REPRESENTED AS GOD. 

SO WITH THAT, LET’S BEGIN!

JOHN 1:1-5 - THIS IS THE FOUNDATION OF THE GOSPEL.  JESUS IS GOD, FULLY GOD.  HE WAS NOT A MAN WHO ATTAINED SOME LEVEL OF ENLIGHTENMENT, HE WAS NOT THE AVATAR FOR THE PISCEAN AGE ONLY WAITING TO BE REPLACED BY THE NEXT GREAT FIGURE WHO WILL USHER IN THE AGE OF AQUARIUS

JESUS IS GOD  - GOD THE CREATOR - EVERYTHING IN THE CREATION ACCOUNT, JESUS WAS DIRECTLY INVOLVED IN

THIS IS THE MOST ATTACKED ASPECT OF THE GOSPEL MESSAGE. BECAUSE IT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING WE MUST UNDERSTAND ABOUT WHAT THE CROSS WAS ALL ABOUT - GOD BECAME MAN IN ORDER TO PAY THE PENALTY MAN INCURRED BY REBELLING AGAINST GOD

THINK ABOUT THAT FOR A MOMENT - WE REBELLED AGAINST GOD AND RUINED THE PERFECT WORLD HE MADE FOR US AND RATHER WATCH US SUFFER THE DESERVED PENALTY, HE BECAME ONE OF US AND TOOK OUR PENALTY.

JOHN FELT IT SO IMPORTANT TO EMPHASIZE THE DEITY OF CHRIST HE STARTS OFF HIS ACCOUNT DECLARING IT.  

HOW CAN JESUS BE GOD AND A MAN?  WELL, WE GET A VERY BIG CLUE IN THE BOOK OF PHILIPPIANS

TURN WITH ME TO PHILIPPIANS 2:5-8 - 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,1 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,2 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a tservant,3 being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS THE APOSTLE PAUL EXPLAINING THE UNION OF DEITY AND HUMANITY

JESUS, THOUGH HE WAS FULLY GOD AS HE WALKED THE EARTH, HE MADE HIMSELF NOTHING, THE GREEK WORD KENOO (KEN-O-O) OR EMPTIED HIMSELF OF ALL THE POWER OF GOD AND RESTRICTED HIMSELF TO ALL THE LIMITATIONS OF MAN.  

WHEN JESUS HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE, HE HAD TO WALK, WHEN HE DIDN’T EAT, HE GOT HUNGRY, AS HE HUNG ON THE CROSS HE THIRSTED, WHEN HIS FRIEND DIED HE WEPT.  

ALL THE MIRACLES JESUS PERFORMED WERE AT THE DISCRETION OF GOD THE FATHER.  JESUS PRAYED TO MULTIPLY THE FOOD, AND WHEN THE WOMAN WITH AN ISSUE OF BLOOD REACHED OUT AND GRABBED HIS GARMENT, HE FELT THE POWER GO OUT FROM HIM BUT DID NOT KNOW WHO IT WAS WHO HAD GRABBED HIM.  ALSO WE ARE TOLD HE DID NOT EVEN KNOW THE TIME OF HIS RETURN.

ALL OF THIS IS, WE ARE TOLD IN HEBREWS, IS SO WE WOULD KNOW THAT JESUS KNOWS WHAT WE GO THROUGH  Hebrews 4:15-16  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.  Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. 

THINK ABOUT THAT, NOT ONLY DOES GOD KNOW US, HE KNOWS WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE US.  HE SUFFERED LOSS OF LOVED ONES, HE SUFFERED BETRAYAL AND ABANDONMENT, HE EXPERIENCED LOVE AND JOY AND ANTICIPATION AND FEAR AND ANGER AND ALL MANNER OF TEMPTATION.  

ALL THIS SO WE CAN CONFIDENTLY APPROACH GOD’S THRONE EXPECTING MERCY AND GRACE BECAUSE HE UNDERSTANDS OUR EMOTIONS, MOTIVATIONS AND FRAILTIES.

GOD THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE HUMBLED HIMSELF TO BECOME US IN ORDER TO SAVE US

SO GREAT, GOD GETS US, BUT DO WE GET GOD?  CAN WE GET GOD?

MAYBE YOU HAVE HEARD OF THE SINGER RICH MULLINS. HE WAS A SINGER SONGWRITER WHO IS PROBABLY BEST KNOWN FOR THE SONG AWESOME GOD.

MULLINS STRUGGLED THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE, HE STRUGGLED WITH ALCOHOL, HE STRUGGLED WITH HOW THE CHURCH HANDLED MANY SOCIAL ISSUES AND SOMETIMES HE STRUGGLED WITH HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD

YET, HE PRODUCED SOME INCREDIBLE MUSIC WITH VERY THOUGHT PROVOKING LYRICS.

JUST BEFORE HE DIED TRAGICALLY IN A CAR ACCIDENT, MULLINS FOUND AN OLD ABANDONED CHURCH WITH A PIANO AND WENT IN AND RECORDED DEMOS ON A CASSETTE PLAYER. AFTER HE DIED THE SONGS WERE MADE INTO AN ALBUM,…

ONE OF THE LAST SONGS HE WROTE WAS CALLED HARD TO GET

YOU WHO LIVE IN HEAVEN

HEAR THE PRAYERS OF THOSE WHO LIVE ON EARTH

WHO ARE AFRAID OF BEING LEFT BY THOSE WE LOVE

AND WHO GET HARDENED BY THE HURT

I’M SO SCARED AND I’M HOLDING MY BREATH

WHILE YOU’RE UP THERE JUST PLAYING HARD TO GET

MAYBE YOU HAVE FELT THIS WAY, YOU FELT NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU PRAYED, NO MATTER HOW AFRAID OR HURTING YOU WERE, GOD WAS JUST NOT LISTENING OR INTERESTED?

HE WENT ON TO WRITE:

I’M REELING FROM THOSE VOICES THAT KEEP SCREAMING IN MY EARS,

ALL THE WORDS OF SHAME AND DOUBT AND BLAME AND REGRET

I CAN’T SEE HOW YOU’RE LEADING ME UNLESS YOU’VE LED ME HERE

WHERE I’M LOST ENOUGH TO LET MYSELF BE LED

AND SO YOU’VE BEEN HERE ALL ALONG I GUESS

IT’S JUST YOUR WAYS AND YOU ARE JUST PLAIN HARD TO GET

THESE ARE THE WORDS OF A MAN WHO WAS STRUGGLING. WE’VE ALL BEEN THERE AND GOD UNDERSTANDS OUR LIMITATIONS.

SO THE QUESTION IS, CAN WE REALLY KNOW GOD? I MEAN ON A PERSONAL LEVEL?

OR IS GOD JUST PLAIN HARD TO GET?

JOHN WROTE THIS IN HIS FIRST EPISTLE: 1JOHN 2:13-14  I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one. I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one. 

THAT IS WHAT THIS CHRISTIAN LIFE IS ALL ABOUT, A PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD. THROUGH PRAYER, WORSHIP, STUDYING THE WORD, WE CAN KNOW GOD, NOT JUST KNOW ABOUT HIM, BUT TRULY KNOW HIM.   

IT IS OK TO ASK QUESTIONS, IN FACT THERE IS NO QUESTION THAT SHOULD GO UNASKED. IF WHAT WE BELIEVE IS TRUE, WE SHOULDN’T FEAR ANY QUESTION

 IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH SOMETHING OR EVEN IF YOU ARE ANGRY, TAKE IT TO GOD, HE ALREADY KNOWS.  DON’T HARBOR BITTERNESS OR RESENTMENT, TALK TO YOUR FATHER, HE LOVES YOU.

IF YOU ARE HERE TODAY AND YOU FEEL ESTRANGED FROM GOD OR FEEL HE IS UNAPPROACHABLE OR IMPERSONAL, YOU ARE MISSING OUT.

IF THERE HAS BEEN A BARRIER ERECTED BETWEEN YOU AND GOD BECAUSE OF SIN OR HURT, RECONCILE TO HIM TODAY. 

LET THE SPIRIT MOVE YOU AND GUIDE YOU.  IF YOU HAVE BUSINESS WITH GOD, NOW'S THE TIME TO DO THAT. 

DON’T FEAR THE SILENCE LET GOD SPEAK TO YOUR HEART. 

GOD DOESN’T SHOUT, HE IS THAT STILL SMALL VOICE, LISTEN TO WHAT HE HAS TO SAY TO YOU TODAY, HE KNOWS YOU AND HE WANTS YOU TO KNOW HIM AS WELL

 

Devil's Moon - Writers 750 Contest Entries

I have rekindled my love of writing thanks to the Writers 750 contest.  Each month has a theme and key elements which must be included in the story, and, most difficult for me, especially, is the 1,500 word limit. I had fun idea for October's entry, however, it was impossible to tell the whole story within the word limitation, so I asked permission to write the story in two parts. 

    Devil's Moon is a story about the supernatural and two opposing factions.  Part one, subtitled The Pack, tells the story of a young lycanthrope coming of age, as it were.  Part two, The Hunters, tells the tale of the human family tasked with eradicating the Pack.  

Together the stories tell a strange tale of redemption.

I hope you enjoy Devil's Moon:

 Devil's Moon Pt 1

The Pack

     Benny sauntered up to a group of Freshmen and threw down his challenge.  “Hey losers, I bet none of you can beat me in a softest punch contest.”  Benny, a Junior, was known for being a trickster and a bit of a bully around campus, but the newest group of  Freshmen had not been around long enough to know of Benny’s antics.  Sean, the smallest of the group, asked, “What is that?”  Benny said, with a leer, “We see who can throw the softest punch, shoot, I’ll even let you go first.”  Sean, looking excited to connect with an upperclassman in his new school said, “Sure, why not?” as he walked up to Benny, who probably outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. With the gentlest of jabs, Sean’s fist barely made contact with Benny’s arm.  Benny reared back and punched Sean in his arm with everything he had. Sean landed on his side about a foot and a half away, clutching his arm and using all of his will power to not start crying.  Benny laughed, “Congratulations kid, you won!” and headed off to his next class.

Sean’s humiliation was almost Benny’s undoing. By lunch time, word of Benny’s little gag had gotten to the Dean of boys, Jack Carlton, who was waiting for Benny outside the school cafeteria.  Mr. Carlton placed a hand on Benny’s shoulder and with a painfully firm grip directed him to the administration offices.  Benny did not scare easily, but at the moment a sheen of sweat appeared over his brow. “What’s the problem Mr. Carlton?” Benny asked, attempting to sound innocent of any possible wrongdoing.  The fact of the matter was this little visit may have been prompted by any one of a half dozen pranks and misdemeanors Benny had orchestrated, or at least participated in, the past several days. Mr. Carlton remained silent until he escorted Benny into his office, where two police officers stood waiting.  “Have a seat Benny”, Mr. Carlton said as he walked behind his desk and took a seat. 

     “I understand you assaulted a student this morning.”  Benny’s mouth dropped open as he attempted to wrap his mind around the accusation.  “No sir, I never assaulted anybody, there must be some misunderstanding!”  Benny knew there were plenty of things he deserved to answer for, but being accused of assault took him completely by surprise.  Mr. Carlton leaned forward and looked Benny in the eye, “Well, Benny, there was a hallway full of witnesses, who will happily testify in court, that they saw you punch Sean Prescott so hard you almost broke his arm.”  “I was just fooling around with the kid, I swear, I don’t even know him!” Benny protested.  At that, one of the police officers stepped forward and told Benny, “Stand up, turn around and place your hands behind your back.”  Benny complied and felt the cold steel on his wrists as the police officer handcuffed him.

    Now sobbing, Benny asked Mr. Carlton if he could call his mom. “We’ll get to that, Benny, I want to explain something to you first.” Mr. Carlton stepped to the front of his desk, crossed his arms and asked Benny, “How old are you?”  “I’m seventeen, sir”, he mumbled.  “When do you turn eighteen, son?”  Not for another eight months, Sir.”  Mr. Carlton looked hard at Benny and asked him, “You like how those handcuffs feel?”  “No sir, I don’t like it one bit.”  “Good, you got eight months to get yourself together and figure out what you want life to look like for you.  Once you turn eighteen, if you so much as lay a finger on another kid in this school, I will have you arrested and believe me, I don’t care how tough you think you are, an eighteen year old kid in jail will not fare very well, you understand me?”  Benny could only nod his head as snot and tears covered his face.

    Mr. Carlton nodded his head to the officer who cuffed Benny and the policeman removed the cuffs. The two officers nodded to the Dean as they took their leave.  Benny’s mom, Wanda, who had been in another room listening, entered the office, staring daggers at her wayward son. Dean Carlton stood up and walked next to Wanda.  “You will be suspended for one week and you will be expected to keep up with all your school assignments during that time.  I will be keeping my eye on you Benny.  We can be the best of friends or bitter enemies, that is completely up to you.”    

    “Go wait in the car Benny,” Wanda directed as she turned to face Mr. Carlton.  Carlton rubbed his face displaying his weariness, “Of all the kids in this school he could have picked on he had to go after a Prescott.”  Wanda’s eyes grew large, “When did a Prescott start coming to this school?” “He’s a first year freshman, just got here at the beginning of the year. I guess I should have warned the Pack.”  “Ya think?” Wanda spat out.  “It’s because of a Prescott I have been raising that kid by myself for the last ten years, so, how good did he give it to him, anyway?”  “Well, he gave him a pretty good shot, actually, kid’s stronger than he realizes.  It’s odd he is such a late bloomer.”  Wanda looked toward the window, “Oh I don’t think it will be too long now, he’s been growling in his sleep, so I’d say he’s probably only a moon cycle or two away.” 

    “I hope you understand why I took such drastic measures with Benny, we have to maintain the truce and I wanted to make sure the Prescotts understood this was an unfortunate coincidence.  I have no doubt we could eliminate the Prescotts once and for all, but it would surely expose us and we’d be hunted to the ends of the earth. The truce is the only thing that keeps us alive”  Wanda sighed, “I understand Jack, I just wish that superstition didn’t keep us in the shadows.”  “Well,”’ Carton said as he walked Wanda to the door, “it looks like the Prescotts are keeping up their end of the truce because I don't think that kid has any idea about any of this, and hopefully he never will.”  

Two weeks later, on the afternoon before the night of the full moon, Benny heard the sound of a bell, faintly ringing from the direction of the mountains outside town. Inexplicably, the sound called to him, drawing him like a siren song.  Benny stepped outside and began walking toward the sound of the bell, slowly at first but soon, he was running.  A car pulled alongside him as he ran. “Hey Benny, where are you off to in such a hurry?”  It was the cop who had handcuffed him in Dean Carlton’s office, but he was not in uniform.  “Uh, I’m not really sure, uh, I guess I am just out for a run.”  Benny was confused and couldn’t explain to himself what was happening, never mind trying to explain it to a cop.  

“You hearing the bell Benny?” the off duty policeman asked. “Um, yeah, do you hear it too?” the boy responded.  “Yep, every month, since I was about your age, come on, get in, I’ll drive you up there, your mom will be up there too.” Bewildered, Benny got in and within fifteen minutes the car pulled into a clearing at the end of a steep mountain road and drove through an open gate.

Wanda’s face lit up with delight as she saw her son get out of the car.  She ran to him and threw her arms around him sobbing with joy, “Welcome to the Pack son! I thought this day would never come!”  Bewildered, Benny just stood there hugging his mom wondering what in the world was going on.  Mr. Carlton walked over and put his arm around Benny, “Since your dad isn’t here to share this special moment, I would be honored if you ran with me tonight, Benny.”  “Sure, I guess, Mr. Carlton, but I really have no idea what’s going on.”  Mr. Carlton and Wanda both looked up at the rising moon as the final wisps of daylight faded, fur sprouting from their faces, “You will soon,” they both said simultaneously.

Devil's Moon Pt 2 

The Hunters

Dale Prescott sat in his living room watching the full moon rise. The monthly guilt reached out to him with icy fingers, as he held  his Bible, praying for peace and for deliverance of those whom he knew were cavorting with evil, this night.  Every month, for the past ten years, Dale battled his conscience.  No one outside his family knew the dark secrets he carried and most in the family did not understand the weight he shouldered as chief of The Hunters.  He gained a new identity in his faith, but not everyone shared his faith nor did they agree with calling off The Hunt. The Hunt, just as deadly to the hunters as the hunted, after centuries of war failed to tip the balance one way or another.  Dale believed there had to be a better way to eradicate the evil his family battled for generations.  

The verse the senior Prescott  meditated on most came back to him: For we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.  For generations the Prescott family hunted an abominable perversion of nature, a pervasive and dangerous evil. The Prescott family, alone, knew lycanthropes were real and, for reasons lost to history, were tasked with their eradication. Ten years earlier Dale was installed as clan chief after the passing of his father.  To prove his worthiness, he had to make a kill, which in modern times, was far more difficult than it had been for his medieval relatives.

Hunting the Pack was more dangerous than any other prey in the world.  Members of the Pack presented only one night per month, possessing supernatural abilities to ward off attack.  Making a successful kill was equal parts luck and skill.  Sometimes decades would pass before a successful kill and each kill usually incurred retaliation to the hunters. Violence always begets violence.  Dale, in his first month as chief,  made the kill, cementing his place at the head of the table.  Wayne Morris was his victim.  Wayne left behind a wife and a seven year old son named Benny.  After the kill, Dale watched as the abomination transformed back into human form, a man like him, a man with a family and a life.  Furthermore, the Pack had not hunted human flesh for over two hundred years, so there really was no justification for killing them.  

After the kill, Dale decided to numb his conflicted conscience by visiting the local liquor store.  On the way, he passed a brightly lit church from which he could faintly hear lively music.  Seeing the giant cross atop the church steeple was more than Dale’s soul could bear, he pulled into the parking lot, sat in his car and cried.  After he cried himself dry, he noticed the music had stopped and felt compelled to enter the church.  Taking a seat in the back, Dale heard a message of God’s love for sinners, even a murderer like himself. More importantly, he heard a message of redemption through the shed blood of Jesus Christ. Dale’s life was never the same.  

 

    Realizing the Hunt was futile and ineffective, after much prayer, Dale was able to convince the Hunters to call a truce.  For the first time in human memory, a Prescott revealed himself to the Pack and both sides realized mutually assured destruction was a pretty good enticement for peace.  The truce held firm for ten years, until two weeks earlier when Wayne Morris’ kid almost broke Dale’s nephew’s arm at school.  A parlay between Dale and the high school Dean of Boys smoothed over any potential problems but he knew something had to change, so tonight, while the Pack ran, Dale prayed more earnestly than ever.

    The following  weekend, Dale had dinner at his brother’s house and over dessert, asked his nephew Sean how school was going.  “It's Ok, I guess, the biggest trick is staying away from the bullies.  Some of the bigger kids like to pick on the new freshmen.”  Since becoming a follower of Christ, Dale had a knack for naturally turning any conversation into an opportunity to share spiritual truth, and was able to impart some Biblical wisdom to his nephew. Intrigued, Sean asked questions allowing Dale to share the Gospel clearly and concisely.  By the end of the night, Sean prayed with his uncle, placing his faith in Jesus Christ.  Sean didn’t feel anything physically take place, but mentally and spiritually he felt as if a tremendous weight lifted from his soul.  

    Monday morning, at school, Sean saw Benny Morris, the older boy who had nearly broken his arm a few weeks earlier.  Sean made a point to avoid Benny and his buddies but today, Sean felt an urge to, not only talk to Benny, but to try to smooth things over. “Hey Benny,” Sean said, tentatively.  “Huh? Oh hey kid, listen, I’m sorry for, ah, you know, well, I was just messing around, I didn’t mean to really hurt you.”  Sean stuck out his hand and Benny shook it, and for the first time ever a Lycanthrope and a Prescott took steps over the threshold of friendship.  

    Days earlier, Benny experienced his first transformation and was feeling excited, scared and a bit isolated from his friends.  Changing into a ravenous beast and running with the Pack had been the most exhilarating experience of Benny’s life, but it also meant a life of secrets and isolation.  Being seventeen was tough enough, realizing he was truly different from most people added a whole other layer of uncertainty. Sean’s unexpected overture of friendship could not have come at a better time.

    The Dean, a leader within the Pack, kept a close eye on the friendship forming between Sean and Benny, wondering if it was a good or bad thing.  He wanted to believe it was a good thing, but, gnawing at the fringes of his consciousness was an inexplicable alarm.  The Dean  decided to monitor the situation, ready to take action if necessary.

    Both Benny and Sean experienced life altering events in the last week, however, Benny was unable to share his experience. Sean, on the other hand, was very excited to share his newfound faith and began asking Benny what he thought about God.  It seemed Sean had the same natural ability to share his faith as his uncle, just not the knowledge his uncle possessed after a decade of study.  Benny was aware, now more than ever, of his misdeeds,  and the idea of being right with God appealed to him like never before. As the conversation progressed, Benny had many questions, unfortunately, Sean had few answers. Finally, Sean suggested they visit his uncle Dale, a man who had answers. 

        Dale Prescott could not have been more surprised when he opened his door to Sean and Benny.  Dale was always cognizant of the fact he was responsible for the death of Benny’s father and now the child he had left fatherless stood on his doorstep.  Swallowing his fear and confusion, Dale asked, “what can I do for you fellas?”  Sean excitedly stepped in past his uncle and explained how he and Benny had been discussing Jesus but he had run out of answers so they were there to fill in the gaps. 

     Dale began to lay out the basics of the Gospel message, as Benny listened intently.  Dale noticed the air in his home had become almost electric, much like when a  thunderstorm was about to strike.  A chill filled the air and the odor of rotting garbage wafted across the room.  Dale, the only one who seemed to notice, realized something spiritual was happening, something malevolent was stirring.

    Finally, Dale asked Benny if he was ready to pray and ask for forgiveness, accepting Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.  Benny seemed eager, even as the room began to smell acrid.  Benny prayed out loud while his body went rigid and shook.  As he continued to pray, a low moan began to emanate, from behind his own voice.  The moan grew louder, growing to a horrific shriek as Benny’s body convulsed violently and then, a sudden release, as an ancient evil entity was expelled from his body.  The windows in the living room shattered, the air returned to normal and the odors of burnt and rotting garbage dissipated.  

    Dale now knew what his family had been fighting for centuries. As all three sat in shock, staring at the shattered windows, Dale realized the war was back on.  This would not be war against flesh and blood but war fought on a spiritual level.  As Benny and Sean attempted to process what they had just experienced, Dale accepted his mission and was grateful for the two young men sitting in his living room, knowing they would be his first recruits in a battle for trapped souls.

 To learn more about Writers 750 you can check it out here: https://writers750program.com/

The writing contest is open to everyone and happens every month. Also, if you are interested in becoming a better writer, I encourage you to check your my friend H.M. Shuldt's book.

Whatever you do, do it unto the Lord!

Now, go live as Christ... and give the devil hell!

FONDEST WISH - WRITERS 750 CONTEST 4

     I have been having a blast writing for the Writers 750 contests! If you love writing, be sure to read all the way to the end for information on entering yourself! Hope you enjoy my award winning story:

 Fondest Wish                   

FONDEST WISH

 

  Jim, carrying Linda on his shoulders,  walked under the brightly lit archway as happy childhood memories flooded his heart, the smell of fried food, the screams of thrill riders and thundering rock music blaring from high mounted speakers.  The Carnival, a timeless place of wonder and excitement, a place to  leave the real world behind, if even for only a few hours.  Jim’s heart swelled, as his giddy little girl giggled with anticipation, pointing at the illuminated chaos.  “Daddy, I want cotton candy, please!” 

Jim made a beeline to the truck emblazoned with happy cartoon children, purchased a large plume of sugary joy on a stick and handed it up to his very excited daughter. “What do you want to do first, princess?” Jim asked. Linda’s eyes widened as she saw a pretty teenage girl walking alongside her jock boyfriend, carrying a giant stuffed bear. “I want you to win me a giant stuffed bear, daddy!”

Jim took a deep breath and said, “Ok honey, one giant stuffed bear, coming up!”  He was pretty sure all these games were rigged, but, he reassured himself thinking, if Jock Boy could win one....    His anxiety rose, however, as he saw the various games of skill, each costing a minimum of two dollars per play.  He found himself longing for the days when all you had to do was lay your quarter down on a number and take a chance on a spin of the wheel.

Forty dollars and an hour of frustration later, Jim realized he was not good at popping balloons with darts, throwing rings over bottle necks, or knocking down milk cans with a softball. Shamefully, he attempted to bribe his daughter away from the obviously fixed games with a ride on the Carousel.  Linda, normally  a happy compliant child, caught Jim off guard when she,  in a very uncharacteristic manner, stomped her little foot, placed her tiny hands on her hips and defiantly stated, “I want a bear, you promised!”  “Sorry sweetie, Daddy’s just not lucky tonight.”

“C’mon, Pops, you don’t want to let down the little lady, do ya?” the sly carnival worker  said with a smile, winking at Linda.  “Tell ya what I’m gonna do buddy, take a free shot on the house, if ya win, ya get the bear.”  “Thanks,” Jim said as he reached into the bucket of balls, “I really appreciate this.”  “Think nothing of it,”  the attendant smiled, as he leaned over and touched the tip of  Linda’s nose with his finger, “I hate to see such a sweet young lady go home empty handed.”  

Jim pitched as if it was the bottom of the ninth in game seven of the World Series with two outs, two strikes and bases loaded.  Unfortunately, Jim was not going to lead his team to victory this night, he watched as five milk cans fell and the sixth one tottered only to remain upright.  Linda’s anticipation quickly turned to disappointment as the man in the booth raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Almost Pops, ya almost nailed it.”  “Come on honey,” Jim said, reaching for his daughter’s hand, but Linda refused to budge. The man in the booth leaned in towards Jim and, in a quiet voice, said, “I don’t do this for everyone, but I got a good feeling about you two, tell ya what, there’s a game booth reserved for VIPs and everyone wins, if you’re interested, go back around the Monster Fun House and head down the passageway, there’s a tent set up, go inside and ask for Lu,  tell him Johnny Legion sent ya, he’ll take good care of ya both.”

Jim and Linda headed behind the Monster Funhouse, as Legion instructed, and found a poorly lit passageway, one most would not have noticed.  Just as Legion promised, at the end of the  path stood a tent.  Jim hesitated, but Linda grabbed his hand and began pulling him toward the flaps, “C’mon daddy!”  Jim took a deep breath, ignored the ominous feel of the place  and allowed his little daughter to lead him inside.  

All trepidation fled as they entered the brightly lit interior and were met by a jovial man in top hat and tails, “Welcome my friends! How can I help you?”  “Uh, Johnny Legion sent us, he said this was a VIP game.. I was trying to win my little girl a bear.”  Jim felt a little foolish until  he heard Linda’s sharp intake of breath as she pointed to the giant plush bear hanging next to a numbered wheel.  “Look Daddy, it’s perfect!” Jim had to admit, it was probably the most amazing stuffed bear he had ever seen. The fact the bear was the only prize in the tent did not register in his mind.

“Ah, yes! Please, please come on in!” Addressing Linda, Lu said, “I see you have your eye on Reginald, my finest bear!” “Uh huh,” Linda replied as she nodded. “Is this what you want more than anything else in the world?” Lu asked her. “Yessss,” she almost whispered, entranced by the prospect of walking out of the tent with such an amazing prize.  “Well,”  said Lu, smiling broadly, “I just happen to be in the business of granting your fondest wish!”  Lu gestured to the counter as he stepped inside the booth, “All you need to do, Dad, is lay a quarter down on one of the numbers and see if you can match the wheel.”  Jim immediately pulled a quarter from his pocket and laid it on number seven.  Lu spun the wheel with a flourish as little Linda held her breath.  As the wheel came to a stop, the indicator landed dead center on number seven.  Linda squealed with delight while Jim gratefully thanked Lu. As Linda stood hugging the bear, which was almost as big as her, Lu winked at Jim and said, “It’s that easy, my friend! Now, son of Adam, what is your fondest wish, hmmm?  Don’t be shy, everyone wants something.” Lu’s conspiratorial smile was hard to resist.

“Well,” Jim reluctantly replied, “the thing I wish for most in the world is to have Cali back, my wife, Linda’s mom.  She passed away last year.”  Lu, rubbed his chin as he contemplated Jim’s request.  “Actually, I’m not in the raising the dead business,” he muttered, as he averted his eyes upward, “That’s someone else’s department.  But, if I understand you correctly, you really wish little Linda here could have a normal life with a mommy and daddy to love her, right?”  Jim looked down, “yeah, I do, he mumbled.”  Excellent request my friend!  Do you happen to have another quarter?”

Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out another quarter, without too much thought, he placed it down on number twelve, the day of the month in May he married his beloved wife.  As Jim placed the quarter down, he did not notice the tiny pin sticking up on the counter until it  jabbed his finger.  As a drop of Jim’s blood landed  onto number twelve, next to the quarter, Lu said, “Nevermind that, son of Adam, it will only increase your luck!” 

“Ready?” Lu asked as he reached out to spin the wheel. Jim merely nodded.  Lu gave the wheel a good spin and just as before, the wheel stopped dead center on the number Jim had chosen.  Lu clapped his hands, “Look at that! Another winner!”  Suddenly, Jim clutched his chest and fell to the ground dead.  Linda, mesmerized by her new bear, did not even notice.  Within seconds, a timid couple entered from the rear of the tent, clutching each other’s arms, each with a tiny pin prick on their fingers.  Lu gestured magnanimously towards the little girl and told them, with the tenderness of a loving father, “And here, children of Adam, here is your fondest wish, a daughter to call your own”

As the man and woman joyfully, if not a tad bit guiltily, directed Linda from the tent, anxious to get on with the business of being a family, they passed two non descript men, dragging Johnny Legion between them, into the tent. “We swear, Lu, we didn’t tell them anything!” Legion whined, as the two men stood before Lu.  The man on the left said, “Lu, huh? Cute, but this game's over Baalzebub, the boss wants to see you.”  A fly landed on Johnny Legion’s head as he asked, “what about us?” The second man said, “Oh, I’m sure there might be some pigs around here somewhere.”  “Oh, no! Not that again,” said Legion, “we’ll just leave” 

Suddenly, the two men, Lu and the tent swirled up into the sky in a pillar of fire, disappearing from sight.  Where a brightly lit tent once stood were only one dead body and a very bewildered carnival worker named Johnny  who seemed to have lost track of the last few months of his life.

To learn more about Writers 750 you can check it out here: https://writers750program.com/

The writing contest is open to everyone and happens every month. Also, if you are interested in becoming a better writer, I encourage you to check your my friend H.M. Shuldt's book.

Whatever you do, do it unto the Lord!

Now, go live as Christ... and give the devil hell!

RUNNING FROM VERONICA - WRITERS 750 CONTEST 3

 Well it took me three times at the plate, but I finally got a hit!  Hope you enjoy my award winning story Running From Veronica.  

RUNNING FROM VERONICA

    

“Well, It’s Hurricane season again, and this time, I am not going to watch my life blow away!” Arthur was busy packing up what little he had left and what little he managed to replace from his loss the previous year. He was happy he had beaten the calendar and was getting away before the first hurricane of the season formed. Templeton, his Pit-Shepherd mix, looked up at him curiously as he spoke. Templeton had a very expressive face and a knack for appearing as if he understood everything Arthur said. Arthur only wished Templeton could speak back.


It was almost a full year ago when Hurricane Veronica blasted through. Arthur knew it would be a life changing storm as soon as he heard the name on the news. Veronica had been the name of his ex-wife who, six years earlier, had inexplicably, burned all his clothes, packed up her stuff and left without so much as a note of goodbye. A month after Veronica left, divorce papers arrived in the mail with a return envelope and a note requesting his signature. When Arthur sealed the envelope, he sealed a chapter of his life and never heard from Veronica again.

Well, he never heard from that Veronica again, the next Veronica to enter his life had been equally devastating. When Hurricane Veronica (the storm, not his ex) approached his small island home, Arthur knew it would be bad, like you know a root canal is going to be bad. Only imagine five root canals and no pain medicine before or after. He prepared the best he could, the best anyone could, having never experienced a Category Five hurricane, but, he soon realized his preparations were far less than adequate!


Arthur’s first clue he was ill prepared was when the dead limbs from the tree in his front yard broke free and slammed against his house, one coming right through his window. He managed to drag the mattress from his bed over to the window and prop it up with a table.


Templeton whined and watched from the corner so Arthur moved him to the bedroom closet for safekeeping. No sooner than hearing the click of the closet door, Arthur heard a great crash in his kitchen. Running in to investigate, he discovered a bathtub, who knows from where, had crashed through the back door into his kitchen, smashing into and destroying his refrigerator. His mind spinning as chaotically as the storm outside, Arthur randomly considered finding the owner of the bathtub and working out an arrangement, the stranger could use his bathtub and he could store things in the tub owner’s refrigerator.


His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the great crunching sound of wood being torn loose from his living room. Arthur ran through the kitchen doorway in time to watch as a large section of the roof over his living room was wrenched off and disappeared into the angry black clouds devilishly churning in the sky above his now compromised home. Wind and rain poured into his living room creating what looked like a mini vortex. The little tornado swirled around his living room and Arthur watched helplessly as his compact disc collection was sucked up and spun around the room. Over five hundred CDs swirled like dervishes breaking and being broken as they clacked and smacked against furniture and glass. As the CDs wreaked havoc and destruction, wind howled through the broken kitchen door, causing the kitchen cabinets to open and close slamming out of sync with one another creating a terrible cacophony to join the horrific roaring wind and sound of breaking plastic and glass in the living room.


Feeling as if he were in some crazed funhouse designed by maniacs and paralyzed by fear, Arthur crouched low in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room holding his ears thinking his life was about to end when he heard a great whoosh and watched his entire CD collection shoot up through his roof as the indoor tornado retracted back into the sky. Rain continued to pour in through his broken roof, but at least the wind began to subside and the maddening racket in the kitchen stopped as well.


Torrential rain continued to pour through the hole in his roof and Arthur realized his house was becoming flooded, very quickly. His red velvet couch, lifted by the flood water, floated across the room and slammed into the front door, splintering the door from its hinges. The flood water inside the house coursed through the broken doorway joining the floodwaters outside sweeping the couch out the door, down the driveway and into the street which flowed like a small river. The last Arthur ever saw his couch was when it floated to the end of the street and around the bend.


Then, just as if someone had thrown a switch, the wind and rain stopped, the sky was clear and the sun shined down into the demolished living room like a spotlight. Amid all the destruction and chaos, a very curious thing happened. Arthur watched, bewildered, as a single compact disc jewel case fell through the hole where his roof used to be and clattered to the wet floor. Retrieving the CD, he saw it was Crystavox, an 80’s hair metal band who only released two albums. Over five hundred CDs flew up into the sky and only one came back down. Arthur was happy to get it back.


Feeling shell shocked, Arthur walked, almost zombie-like, to his bedroom to check on Templeton. Opening the closet door, Arthur discovered his best friend had passed the time chewing up every pair of shoes he owned. Only two shoes remained uneaten, unfortunately the shoes were not a matched pair. The only consolation was one uneaten shoe was a left shoe and the other a right. Arthur was a pitiful sight when he arrived at the emergency shelter, disheveled, soaked and wearing one brown loafer and one white tennis shoe.


Now, about a year later, after having battled with the insurance company, overseeing repairs and putting the house on the market, Arthur and Templeton were packing up the last of his modest possessions ready to close on the sale of the house. The furniture and larger items had been boxed up and shipped to the mainland and Arthur stuffed the last of his clothes and personal items into a shoulder duffel, the last item to go in, the Crystavox CD.


Arthur made his way to the charter plane, looking forward to a new chapter of life when he heard his name. “Arthur, how are you?” He turned and saw Pastor Mike from the shelter he stayed at the previous year while his house affairs were sorted out. “Pastor Mike, how are you? Long time no see”, Arthur exclaimed as he reached out to shake the minister’s hand. Pastor Mike had been a source of great comfort and wisdom during the dark days after Veronica (the hurricane, not his ex). “Looks like we will be sharing the flight,” Pastor Mike said happily. Mike looked down at Arthur’s shoes and remarked, “nice to see you have matching shoes on today, I trust everything has worked out for you then?” Arthur recounted his plans for the future to which Pastor Mike said, “You know, Arthur, there will always be Veronica’s in your life, whether they be horrible ex-wives, devastating hurricanes or any variety of calamity that befalls us. The main thing is knowing you are not facing the Veronicas of life alone.” Arthur remembered how much he had enjoyed late night conversations with Pastor Mike at the shelter and actually looked forward to the two hour plane ride and the opportunity to share in the man’s wisdom at least one more time.


Pastor Mike said a little silent prayer asking for just the right words to share with Arthur, knowing this would probably be his last opportunity to share the Gospel with him. The men climbed the airstair together, with Templeton leading the way, catching up on the last eight months or so when they reached the top of the steps and both men stopped suddenly. Much to the bewilderment of the pilot standing just inside the plane greeting her few passengers, both men burst out laughing as they noticed the name tag on the pretty pilot’s uniform - it read “Veronica”.

To learn more about Writers 750 you can check it out here: https://writers750program.com/

The writing contest is open to everyone and happens every month. Also, if you are interested in becoming a better writer, I encourage you to check your my friend H.M. Shuldt's book.

Whatever you do, do it unto the Lord!

Now, go live as Christ... and give the devil hell!