“Boy, this has been a long nine months. I'll be glad when Sunday gets here.” Judy stroked her belly while talking to Oliver, her husband. Sunday was her due day. Just two more days.
“Yep. Guess we both could use some rest, baby.” He was still looking at the scriptures as he spoke.
Oliver wasn't always the kind to read the Good Book. There was a time, not too long ago, that he would have fought over just about anything, if ya rubbed him wrong. He was a drinker and didn't let no man walk on him. His temper was known throughout the town, and most men just left him alone, rather than risk getting hurt trying to make a point.
One day, he was out hunting in the Arkansas hills, when he slipped and fell over the side of a cliff. He just barely had a hold with his hands, and his feet were not getting a grip on anything. A rocky cliff wall and empty creek bed were there to welcome his body, hanging over sixty feet of emptiness.
“God, or whoever You are up there. I know I ain't much and haven't lived a good life, like I shoulda.
But I got me a wife now and she is gettin' ready to have our baby. If You give me a chance, I promise that I will read Your word and see if I can become a good person. Just please give me a chance, sir.”
At those spoken words, his feet found solid hold and he was able to haul himself up over the edge of the cliff. “Thank You sir. I will keep my promise.”
Oliver passed by the parson's place on his way home and told the older man of his adventure. After praying with him, he arrived home with a somewhat tattered Bible, and started reading the New testament. Two months later, he knew that he wanted to give his life over to the Creator, and live a Christian life.
“Ouch!. Oh, Momma, that hurts!” It was Sunday morning and Judy was having contractions. Her mother and some of the women of the village were there with her in the bedroom and the time old cycle continued.
“It's gonna happen! Momma! Momma!” She was squeezing her mother's hand as she continued her deep breathing.
Oliver was on his knees in the day room. He was praying as he never had prayed before. His heart had never felt so open and ready for whatever was going to happen.
“God. I know who You are and the sacrifice You made for us all. Your Son died for my sins and I thank You and honor You for that. I want to be Your servant and devote my life to winning others over to You. Please, God. Come into my heart and soul, fill me up, save me, love me. I give myself to you.”
He felt the Holy Spirit enter his body and tears ran down both cheeks as he stood up and danced a jig.
“Thank You, Father! Thank You! I am yours!” He was reborn.
Then he heard it. The baby was crying in the next room.
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