Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Inner Strength (04/20/06)
TITLE: The Lord's Hand
By Jennifer Wortham
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She wore a black jacket and black slacks. Her hair tied back in a tight slick pony tail, no make up, no jewelry. It was all she could do to get up out of bed. She no longer wanted to go on. She rolled out of bed and hit the floor on her knees begging to God for help. She was praying for inner strength and for the mercy only God could give her. She needed inner strength to get through the rest of the day and the rest of her life. She had to lean on God to help her.
Her thoughts drifted to her husband and their relationship, she had never been so lonely in her marriage and she didn’t think she could go on living with her husband. The only reason she was still holding on was her because of her daughter. Her daughter was her life and she took great joy in being a Mother. She seemed to fail miserably as a wife, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t do anything right in his eyes.
The alcohol was all he was to her anymore. He just drank and drank all the day and night. She knew she couldn’t continue to live with him and raise her daughter the way she knew her daughter deserved. She needed to get out. He was a possessive man and any talk about her leaving would throw him in a fit of rage.
If she were to leave she would have to sneak out in the middle of the night. She prayed and prayed for help. She packed a small bag for her and her daughter and tip toed to the door. Her daughter still sleeping in her arms as she crept.
He was waiting for her at the back door with his legs braced apart and his hands on his hips. She didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. He looked beyond who her husband used to be he looked more evil than man. She started to back up and in two short strides he grabbed her. He took their daughter and threw her up in the air. She hit the kitchen cabinets and ricocheted off and she landed in a lump on the floor.
“NO, Please God not my baby.” She screamed at the top of her lungs just before she felt the blow to her head.
She didn’t know how long she laid there, but when she looked around the kitchen the horror of what she saw was beyond anything she could comprehend.
He had taken his shot gun and killed his self on top of the kitchen table. As blood dripped from her head she crawled to her child and she knew, as soon as, she touched her she was gone. She was dead. The neighbors could hear her blood curdling scream at the end of the block.
She seriously thought about ending her life right then and there, but a voice inside her mind spoke to her.
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34) “The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. He is my God, and I will praise him, my father's God, and I will exalt him.” (Exodus 15:2)
She got up from her knees and got to the phone to call 911.
She got up from the coffin where she had knelt and sobbed and she prayed for strength. Her legs nearly went out from under her, but they didn’t give way. She felt a light hand on her elbow helping her up. After she had composed herself, she looked over her shoulder to see who had helped her and nobody was there. She knew it was the Lord’s hand helping her. She is here for a reason only he knows.
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