Molly's Zone

                                                 ( Lincoln County, West Virginia: September 1932)   The one-year mark of daddy’s passing had come and gone by much too fast. September rolled in as usual but nothing about life felt familiar anymore. I wasn’t at all sure how we as a family survived such a loss. It was the prime time for harvesting crops and daddy’s favorite time of the year. His death created such an empty space within our family; the memories of him were now bittersweet.  Everything had changed. Whenever I needed a reminder to keep going forward, all I had to do was remember my mama’s words:   “I want to tell y’all somethin’, the Lord will take care of us. Things will be harder around here, but we have to trust Him.”   Those challenging words proved to be a harder task than we thought.  “I need you all to help out m...

                                            Lincoln County, West Virginia: August 1931)   My dad worked harder than anyone else I knew. Life on the farm wasn’t easy, but he always wore a smile through the most tiring of days. Daddy always kept his joy, and never wanted us to feel ashamed of who we were. He never made a big deal over small incidents. This was why I knew something was wrong and had been for the past three months. He grew more tired with each passing day and developed a nasty cough, which I had never heard before.   As I woke up on that hot summer morning, I could see Daddy tucked in bed, with mama rearranging the covers. She looked worried. I could feel my heart pounding. Della, the oldest of us, strolled past me and headed over to where mama was. Their conversation lasted several minutes. Mama leaned over, placed a reassuring kiss on Daddy’s cheek, and ...

                                        Lincoln County, West Virginia (May 1931)   “Melda, come inside before your supper gets cold!” A familiar voice echoed from the shack several feet away. I was somewhat of a daydreamer. I liked to come outside in the evenings to sit and ponder over life, well, as much as you could for a twelve-year-old. There ain’t much to do around here. If you’re looking for country living, then I suppose these parts are somewhere you’d want to be. West Virginia is a beautiful place. I’ve grown up on what’s called a poor farm, where farmland stretches as far as the eye can see. Everybody works on the land to keep roofs over their heads. Daddy drives the school wagon, while mama takes care of all ten of us kids. My older brothers help tend to the farm, but us girls help mama with all the housekeeping, cooking, and washing. I’ve been learning to sew. It’s my favo...

  Lincoln County, West Virginia December 1974       My momma was the center of my universe, my best friend, and the most loving and faithful person that I knew. She was bold! Someone who loved Jesus, and you could tell how important He was to her by watching the way she lived: so full of joy. Momma was not afraid of death. She never wavered. Her faith remained strong until she took her final breath. I wish my faith was as strong as hers. My emotions grew deeper every second.   I love you, momma.   Thoughts and memories are all I have left now. The funeral service was scheduled for today and I didn’t know I was going to face one person, let alone a crowd. I wanted to escape and got lost in my thoughts completely. I wasn’t aware of what was going on around me. I could make out the silhouette of a man coming my way through the milky fog of the winter day.   “Excuse me, sir, I’m looking for someone w...

 I cannot find enough words to describe just how much of a blessing that the creative journey of " Running Home " has been for me. I want to personally take a moment to thank you for reading and to also express my thankfulness to the Lord for the precious opportunity to be a storyteller for His glory.  " Running Home " is a faith-based short story series that invites the reader to follow along on the path of a woman named Melda Lemaster and her family who run the race of faith by simply trusting in the Lord to fill all of the empty spaces during their journey: a lifetime tale of freedom and resilience found through the power of salvation in Jesus Christ. My greatest hope is that these little stories plant a seed that works to help fill your own empty empty spaces with the greatest hope, the sweetest everlasting peace, and the unspeakable joy that a personal relationship with Jesus has to offer. Each individual story contains an applicable life lesson along with a ...

"Don't run the red light..."  The Lord placed that simple little phrase on my heart several weeks ago as I was out and about with my mother. Although I'm just now writing out the message that goes along with it, I have never once stopped thinking about it.  Hurricane was at one time a quaint little town with two-lane roads (that's how I remember it from when I was growing up) and the traffic was NOTHING compared to what you see today.  Somehow we've come into a time of pure impatience--almost everyone seems as if they're in such a hurry when it comes to absolutely everything. And if they are made to stop and wait, it's usually never too long until they're in a huff.  The amount of people who operate vehicles while deliberately ignoring stop signs and continuously running red lights will never make sense to me.  I am always left wondering about the precious souls who are in those vehicles--some of whom may be lost and living without Christ--giving r...