Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: A MIGHTY FORTRESS (don't write about the song) (04/23/15)
-
TITLE: A stronger wall | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
04/27/15 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Six-year-old Simi hunched in low to sneak her peak out the bottom half of the closet door’s two inch opening. “How will I know when he gets here?”
“Listen real hard.” Dylan rested his hand on his sister’s shoulder. “You’ll hear something like daddy sandpapering. Don’t worry, it’s just slippers on the floor.”
Simi hunched her shoulders back and forth until her brother took his hand away. “How do you know this is where he does it?”
“Cause I heard him through the register and last night I hid right here and watched him.”
The slithering was softer than Simi imagined. It stopped just outside the closet door. She slowed her breathing and squeezed her eyelids tight. The apple scent alerted her. The smell of Old Spice calmed her.
Dylan’s knee pushed hard into her back but she refused to cry out. Finally, the sandpaper noise continued until it got swallowed up by the front room carpet.
A cracking, creaking and grunting accompanied heavy breathing and a deep sighing. Dylan poked her shoulder and Simi opened her eyes and took a deeper breath. She craned her neck for a better view.
The stooped form reached for the heavens. Loose jowls tightened up under a strong square jaw pointed upward. A bulbous nose rested like half a strawberry atop a face with as many lines as a Google map. Thick snowy eyebrows crawled above wide open eyes and blended with hair as thick as cotton candy and as fine as a spider’s web.
A low rumble mixed with a groan. “Ohhh, Father,” it began.
Simi wrapped her arms tightly around herself and wiggled to move Dylan’s knee away from her back.
“Ohh, Father. You are our refuge and strength, our ever present help in times of trouble like these. You hold the very powers of darkness and light in your hands. You give breath to good and evil alike. You are the judge of all the earth and you always do what is right. Ohh, Father…”
Powerful words of praise and pain washed across Simi’s ears. The shiver in her back felt like the presence of God had brushed up against her. Not even pastor Barry prayed like this at Sunday service.
“Ohh, Father. Your children are dying by the sword at their throats. You see those crucified and stoned and raped and tortured. You see those sold into slavery for the most despicable desires of men. Ohh, Father. I do not understand how you care for your children. I do not understand how you as the Good Shepherd walk them through the Valleys of Shadows so they fear no evil. I do not understand, but, Ohh, Father, rescue those close to your heart. Raise up the name of Jesus in a place so filled with darkness that it seems like hell to those who live there…”
Simi gasped. ‘Were people allowed to say hell, especially, right in front of God?’ Dylan had told her if she ever said that word she’d get her mouth washed out with soap. ‘Maybe Grandpa Grady had special privileges on what he could say.’
“Ohh, Father, build your church, Lord. Where there is weakness bring strength. Where there is doubt, bring truth. Where there is hopelessness, bring hope and peace and grace. Ohh, Father. Make us a bright light in a dark night, make us a cool drink in a thirsty land, make us pure. Ohh, Father…”
Simi listened past the strong words and saw the eye wrinkles caused by years of teasing and laughter. The deep forehead creases seemed to melt away like snow. Lips which always framed smiles and welcome kept moving. Fingers which tickled, comforted and pulled candy from her ears kept stretching as if trying to reach something on the other side of the ceiling.
“Ohh, Father, build a stronger wall of protection around my children and grandchildren. Put special angels around Dylan and Simi. Guard them closely at school, at home, at play, and especially when they go back to Africa for another term of missions. Bring them back to me, Lord. You know how lonely I get without them. Ohh, Father, some sacrifices cut deep and this is one of them. Ohh, Father, accept my tears. Keep my love strong. Just build a stronger wall around them. You are the Mighty Fortress I trust with all I love.”
And Simi knew. Going back to Africa was going to be okay.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
God bless~