Running Home: Prologue (Behind the Story Series Part 1)

I have traveled along this writing journey with the Lord for almost seven years now and the road has stretched further than I ever could have imagined! It is so amazing to think that while we spend most of our time mapping out our life and working to plan its direction, God's plans are far greater, surpassing any desire or dream that we could ever have for ourselves.

The choice we are then faced with is to simply trust in His plan for our lives instead of our own. 

The story encapsulated within Running Home was given to me by a sweet friend I encountered while on this journey. We personally met in March 2016 and it was a Wednesday afternoon filled with the purest fun that I've ever experienced. Molly's Zone was launched several months prior to our meet-up, and the idea of delving into writing fiction had never crossed my mind. I was comfortably situated as a faith/life blogger and solely focused on publishing articles centered around disability advocacy. 

I shelved the project for several years before actively working towards its completion. The idea of a faith-based short story series paired with accompanying devotionals was placed on my heart through browsing Amazon one afternoon and seeing a published collection that was set up in that exact way. I thought it was so neat to pair captivating fictional stories with applicable Bible verses and life lessons. 

The prologue is the series opener that introduces the overall concept along with the main character, Melda Lemaster. Her son, Gordon, is left to tell the story of his mother's life and share the many lessons that he learned from her. As a true soldier of the faith, she travels down a winding road full of tribulation and victory all with Jesus by her side. Through each passing moment, her faith and devotion to Him remain solid and unwavering.

The structural makeup of Running Home was derived from a devotional I wrote a few years ago entitled, Let Him Fill Your Empty Spaces. A personal internal battle I experienced concerning the project revolved around the possibility of it becoming a full-fledged novel. I could not configure a way for the large spaces within the time periods to be filled and I knew deep within my heart that if it was too large in size, each story would lose its individual message. 

I've always loved the song "Little Is Much When God Is In It", and that statement holds so much truth. Whatever you do in serving the Lord doesn't need to be a big production, it just needs to come from a strong desire within to plant seeds in the hearts of people that cross your path. 

Consider Him in all things and never follow your own heart. Let Him be the light upon your path. The heart is full of deception and wickedness. Trusting in His leading through all things provides unchanging truth, wonderful wisdom, and necessary direction for our lives.

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9)

"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." (Psalm 119:105)

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon Earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:"

"But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal:"

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6:19-21) 

There are countless aspects of our lives that we will never know. God often works behind the scenes without us even realizing it. If it were possible to know every intricate detail of our lives, there would be no reason at all to place our faith and trust in the Lord. Those time gaps represent His faithfulness not only in the big empty spaces of our lives but also among those that cannot be seen.

Running Home is a tale of the freedom and resilience one can find through salvation and having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Holding onto our faith encourages our hearts, provides us with the strength to climb the mountains of life with a fearless spirit, and gives us hope in the midst of the darkness that surrounds us.

Running Home: His Everlasting Love (The Finale)

 (December 1974: Lincoln County, West Virginia)

 

“What a wonderful story,” Pastor Perry said with a smile. “I’m so sorry for your loss.  Would you want to say a few words before the service starts? he asked.

 

“Sure, I have a few notes here in my coat pocket that I wrote down last night,” I replied. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

 

Pastor Perry glanced at his watch. “I reckon so, are you ready?”

 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied nervously.

 

“It’ll be alright son, just speak from your heart,” he said, nudging my side with his hand.

 

The time for momma's homegoing service was now upon us. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready for this moment but my soul knew that I would one day see her again. We would both be in the presence of God’s everlasting love; the space that surrounded us would be filled with the wonderful peace, eternal hope, and boundless joy that His presence provides.

 

“It’s a pleasure to have you all here today,” Pastor Perry began, stepping in front of the small crowd. “Gordon, are you ready to say a few words before the service starts?

 

I stepped up to the crowd, never sure that the right words would come. How could I describe such a soldier of the faith? I looked down at my piece of paper and began to read:

 

There simply aren’t enough words to describe my momma. She truly lived her life in the moment and cherished her relationship with her Savior the most. She was a mother that taught me some of life’s greatest lessons in her own sweet way. She was an overcomer of many trials and her heart was always overflowing with unspeakable joy. It was amazing to see how Jesus filled the empty spaces that she had throughout her journey. She was a true soldier of the faith and the best momma you could ask for. I find comfort in knowing that one day when I reach Heaven’s gates there will be sweet victory amongst us all in the presence of His everlasting love.

 

“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

 

“Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing” (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

Running Home: God Is Good (Short Story Series Story #15)

 (December 1974: Charleston, West Virginia)

 

"I am starting to see why your mother was such a soldier.” Pastor Perry shivered on the bench as he started to feel the cold winter breeze flow past them.

 

I smiled. I loved recalling my mother’s tales. It had taken her years to become that soldier.

 

“No matter what she would just keep on keepin’ on,” I replied. I adjusted my coat. It had fallen slightly off of my shoulders. “That was the best thing about her.”

 

Momma kept a heart of thankfulness and praise for the wonderful ways that God had reminded her of His unwavering presence. She clung to Christ because He was the faithful father, precious Savior, and wonderful friend that she could always count on through each and every storm.

 

Working became difficult for her as time passed by and her health began to decline. She eventually moved in with Cookie and me though she didn’t like asking for help. We bought her a new puppy in hopes of lifting her spirits: a little black Pomeranian named Ollie, and it seemed to help. A precious gift is what she often called him. I couldn’t wait to give her the sunflower necklace I had placed under the Christmas tree. I hoped she would love it.

 

“Let me have your cup, and I’ll go pour you some more coffee, dear”, momma said, taking the ceramic coffee mug from my hand.

 

“Thanks, ma. I can get it myself,” I replied in protest as Ollie jumped up to the side of my seat to bum a piece of bacon.

 

“Oh, no I don’t mind gettin’ it for you,” she said walking into the kitchen.

 

I heard a sudden thud and breaking of glass that jolted me from my thoughts. I ran into the kitchen and saw momma lifeless on the floor, the broken coffee cup scattered around her. Cookie came running in from the laundry room, a frantic look spread across her face.

 

“What’s happened?!” she asked, her voice panicked.

 

“Call 911! Quick!” I yelled in response. “Come on momma, stay with us. Stay with us.”

 

I held her until the EMTs arrived. It was at that moment that I could only imagine how helpless she must have felt when holding my sister on that street so many years ago. I could barely answer the questions the paramedics were asking.

 

We followed the ambulance to the hospital and waited. Cookie and I held each other tightly, unprepared for what was next. I don’t think either of us wanted to know. A doctor made his way toward us as nighttime began to set in.

 

“Mr. Lemaster?” I’m Dr. Jones.” he began, softly.

 

“How is my mother?” I asked him, my voice anxious.

 

“Mr. Lemaster, I’m afraid we’ve done all we can do,” he answered. “I’m the neurologist who assessed your mother. She’s suffered a massive brain aneurysm rupture,” He looked at us sympathetically.

 

“What?” I replied, shocked.

 

“The EMT’S wrote down headaches, vision problems, and a stiff neck as some of her previous health issues,” he said. “Is that correct?”

 

“Well, yes..but,” I found myself stammering in my words.

 

“Those symptoms lead us to believe that she has had an aneurysm for some time, and it has now burst,” he said, his fingers tapping his clipboard. “We’ve placed her in an induced coma for now, but would suggest that all the family have time to come and say their goodbyes,” he said sadly. “I’m so sorry son, she’s not going to make it.” 

 

Cookie and I drove back to the house as we tried to collect our thoughts. The day had taken a turn in an instant. The hardest moment of all would be facing a world without her. We walked in the front door as I reached for the phone, going down the written list of family contacts that we kept in a kitchen drawer.

 

Cookie brought over the necklace I had wrapped. A tear escaped my eye as I saw the box in her hand.

 

“You should take this to her even though she won’t see it,” Cookie said as she set the box on the kitchen table. “We could bury her with it.” Cookie offered, wrapping me in a hug.

 

“I know she would love it,” I replied, my voice a whisper. “This all happened so fast,” I continued, planting a kiss on Cookie’s cheek. “I don’t know if I can face reality. What are we going to do without her?”

 

Momma’s life journey was a shining example of God’s faithfulness through it all. The future without the warmth of her presence would find us lost for many years to come. No matter what was facing us, momma reminded us that God is good and worthy of praise for every day. One of the most profound things she shared was that the secret to a joyful life is never measured by how tough you seem. The true essence of it all is allowing His strength to be made perfect in your weakness: choosing to give God the glory through every single moment; to realize that even through those moments of pain, He grace would remain sufficient. Our lives would never be the same, but I knew that I would hold her story in my heart forever.

 

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (1 Corinthians 12:9)

Running Home: The Palm of His Hand (Short Story Series Story #14)

 (Lincoln County, West Virginia: April 1971)

 

No one could prepare us for the turn that our lives would take after I accepted that job offer. Frank's sudden passing created such a huge void for us; nothing could ever replace him. A new chapter of adventure began that day, though we couldn't see it at the time. We always held onto the fact that God always provided for our every need.  We were forever safe in the palm of His hand. 

 

The newness of it all was quite overwhelming to me at first. Our lives became surrounded by undeserved plentiful blessings. Thankfulness and praise filled our hearts as the road of adventure grew sweeter. We knew that we would have the strength to endure whatever came our way because of His faithful shield.

 

Working on the farm fell away from us somewhat as my clientele grew.

 

Our days had become full of those new great adventures that Frank loved. Our story as a family began to blossom. Rosalie Combs had provided me with a golden opportunity. A life-changing one at that.

 

"You look lovely, Cookie."  Rosalie sounded cheerful as she walked past who was taking measurements for a new outfit. "Thank you," replied Cookie, with a wide smile.

 

"Do I look okay?" she spoke, turning back to me.

 

"Yep, you're fine. I hope you didn't get too tired standing there for that long." I said with a chuckle. "Are you nervous about next weekend?" 

 

"A little, but I'm so excited." Cookie spoke, elated. "Gordon means so much to me. I can't believe we've been together for five years."

 

"I am so glad he met you," I  said with a smile. "He's needed someone special in his life."

 

"Me too. It's so neat how God worked it all out." Cookie replied, stepping down from the tiny ledge.

 

The weekend arrived in a flash and another chapter of life for our family would begin. Gordon and Cookie’s wedding day was simple but so beautiful for all. Cookie wore her mother's gown. Clara hosted a wonderful reception at her house.

 

Music played as Gordon and I shared a dance.

 

I looked at Gordon as my eyes filled with tears of happiness.  "I'm proud of the young man you've become," I said as we slow danced. "I am so happy for you and Cookie. He smiled big. "She's a sweet girl, and I know you two are meant for each other."

 

"Thanks, Momma," he replied softly. "But, you know I wouldn't be half of who I am without you." I chuckled. "I mean it. You've taught me in ways you don't even know. And Cookie loves you too. " Gordon said, motioning towards her.

 

"And I'm happy for you momma with your new life." Gordon continued. "Seeing you at peace means the world to me."

 

"God has been good to us, kiddo. " I replied.

 

"Yes, He has. I'm really glad." Gordon said with a smile.

 

As the mother-son dance came to an end, I spent the rest of my evening reflecting on life. I quickly found myself remembering the blessings found through every circumstance. Through it all, God held us tightly in the palm of His hand. He had done many great things for us. 

 

“The LORD hath done great things for us; whereof we are glad.” (Psalm 126:3)

Running Home: The Good Shepherd Part 2 (Short Story Series Story #13)

 (July 1963: Lincoln County, West Virginia)

 

The weeks following the death of Frank tested the foundation of our family's faith. Life as we knew it would never be the same. The farm ceased to hold its charm as another new beginning came towards us. I lost the greatest adventure partner and the love of my life. I would have to go on while carrying the precious memories in my heart. As a family, we would stick together. Jesus would help us through. He has always been the good shepherd that we trust in through every part of life.

 

"It's hard knowin' Frank won't be walkin' in the door," I said, sitting in the living room. I reached up towards my face to wipe away a fresh flood of tears. Della reached for my hands and took them both in her own.

 

"He was a good husband. A great father. Y'all had such a great love story". Della, responded, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Nothing will be the same, but I know he would want you to keep on keepin' on." Della's eyes began to tear up. "But how do you do that?"

 

"I know. I am so lost without him. He left an empty space in us all." I said with a tearful sigh. "I don't wanna be without my adventure partner."

 

Della hugged me as hard as she could. "I can't imagine what you're going through. It'll be different" I dabbed at my eyes. "But Gordon is around, and the girls at the shop. There's no tellin' what God has in store for you." A small grin spread across my face. "I reckon I hate havin' to sell some of his farm equipment. I want to know why this had to happen."

 

The next few days back at the shop were hard for me. I found plenty of comfort and company in my friends. The loving customers who had heard what happened were a much-needed distraction. In the next moment, I saw Cookie coming through the door. An important-looking lady was with her this time.

 

"That's the lady I was telling you about." Cookie said,  tapping Rosalie's arm as they were heading in my direction. Cookie waved and they rushed over to the counter.

 

"Excuse me miss, Cookie tells you're the designer of these lovely articles of clothing." The woman smiled. " I love coming in here, though we haven't met.

 

"Yes, and no I've not seen you before". Melda smiled reaching out a hand. "I'm Melda Lemaster. How do you do?"

 

"I'm Rosalie Combs" the woman replied. shaking my hand. "You're quite a talent." I laughed, pushing a strand of hair from my face. "Well, thank you...wait, as in Governor Combs?"

 

Rosalie held a friendly gaze. "Yes. It's lovely to meet you!" I couldn't believe it. "What can I do for you today Mrs. Combs?" Momma was happy to help customers any way she could.

 

"Listen, are you interested in working for me as a seamstress?" Rosalie smiled as I looked at her with a nervous gaze. "Now you don't have to give me an answer right away. But I love your designs."

 

"Oh...I don't know..." I began.

 

"You take a few days to think it over," Rosalie said with a hug. "You're a talent."

 

I knew this could be the chance of a lifetime. I drove home that evening with a new idea of opportunity for adventure.

 

Rosalie Combs. Being a seamstress for her would be a dream. But it's a big step. What if I can't do it?

 

"What is the one thing you and dad always taught us, kids?" Gordon asked, reminding me of his father.

 

"To go on any adventure?" I offered, with a slight smile.

 

"Yes, but also to always have faith in Christ through everything." Gordon sat at the dinner table, as he continued eating.

 

"I know Gordo, but this is a big deal. It's not a small thing." I said, sipping my coffee. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet."

 

"Well,  you should go for it. Even if you don't know what God's plans are, you go after what life has to offer." Gordon got up from the table and hugged me. "Trust Him, momma. He'll always take care of us, I know it."

 

"Gee, when did you become so smart?" I said with a smile.

 

Gordon laughed. "You can do it, mom, I know you can."

 

Rosalie entered the shop as I was finishing my workday. A few days had passed and I had made a decision. I knew this would be the right one for her and Gordon.

 

"I've decided to take you up on that offer," I said, as Rosalie walked over.

 

"Fantastic! Oh, this is going to be great! You'll see!" Rosalie walked with a hop in her step. "I'm so excited to have you! I know Cookie will be happy to see you again." I smiled as she was finishing her tasks for the day. "I can't wait. I have a son who is a great encourager."

 

Rosalie laughed. "I know all about sons." She placed her hand on my shoulder. "New adventures are always something," I sighed with contentment, opening the front door. We both stepped out as I closed the door behind us.

 

"When can you start?" Rosalie asked.

 

 "As soon as you need me!" I knew this was right. I had prayed every night about which road to take. I trusted that everything would work out the way the Lord had intended it.

 

The uncertain nature of life can throw us for a loop. Sudden goodbyes to what is familiar are never easy. Sometimes we have trouble sharing our deepest thoughts with the One who loves us most because the world wants us to be fearful of a new outlook. Our family would never be the same.  That was for sure. But two things always remained. Jesus would always be the good and faithful shepherd in our lives, and we had the love and company of one another. His faithfulness in answering our prayers in uncertain times proved the strength of His love. His devotion to listening to our every word showed how much He cares for us. His remembrance of our deepest sorrows provides a glimpse into how well He knows us. His presence provides the greatest comfort. Whatever the future held for us, we would continue to place our faith in the good shepherd and all His great plans for us.

 

The Lord was leading us on to yet another great adventure. Trusting in Him, we would cast all our cares into His hands.

 

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." (1 Peter 5:7)

Running Home: The Good Shepherd Part 1 (Short Story Series Story #12)

 

 

 

(Lincoln County, West Virginia: July 1963)

 

The sense of purpose that I longed for as a little girl had found its way to my heart. The countless years working at Berman’s have filled my heart full of passionate joy. The girls and I formed a precious family-like bond. The customers meant a lot to me. Day to day life was abundant in blessings. Our family's faith remained solid through it all, as the good shepherd never left our side. His presence would always be enough.

 

The little bell sounded as the door to the shop inched open. The young woman looked familiar, as she frequented Berman’s quite a bit. I always loved having the chance to meet people and found my voice working in Charleston. Every day the town seemed to be bustling with even more friendly faces.

 

"Hi!" the young woman said, looking around the shop.

 

"How can I help you?" I replied,  walking up to the lady, smiling from ear to ear.

 

"I need a dress for a dinner party that I'm going to. Oh...I love this one with the bright floral pattern. It's so pretty!"

 

The woman touched the fabric of the dress and her eyes lit up with excitement. She walked over to a rack with several articles of clothing, picking out a grey pencil skirt and admiring it before moving on to another rack nearby.

 

"You all make the prettiest clothes." The woman said, stopping to rearrange the clothing in her arms.

 

"I definitely want the skirt!" she continued.

 

"Let me take that for ya. You got your arms full." I smiled as the young woman continued to browse.

 

I draped the grey skirt over my arm and moved to the woman's side to help her find some other options as well. "What about this one?" I held up a royal blue party dress. "This is one of our best sellers."

 

The woman's eyes widened. "Oh, I love that one too! I can't decide! You pick."

 

I thought for a moment. " You would look stunning in the royal blue."

 

Her face beamed. "You think so?" Well, I'll take the dress and the skirt." she said as she sauntered to the front.

 

I  added the dress to the skirt she was carrying and walked to the cash register.

 

"I want to thank you for helping me. What's your name?" the young woman asked.

 

"My name is Melda," I replied with a smile.

 

"Thank you so much for your help!" the woman said.

 

"Oh, it was no trouble at all!" I said with a shrug.

 

"No, I love it all. You're the best!" The young woman held out her hand. "I'm Cookie, by the way."

 

I shook her hand and couldn't help but notice that her fingernails were a perfect mauve color.

 

 

What a sweetheart.

 

I finished the day and drove home. The evening was early yet and I was looking forward to time with her family.

 

Mama always came over to help with dinner when I worked. Most of the family had their own lives by now, but she still helped as much as she could. Frank came in from the yardwork as I was helping to sit the last bowl of food on the kitchen table.

 

"Hey, darlin' how was your day?" he asked.

 

"Oh, it was great. I had the nicest girl come into the shop today. She didn't look much younger than you Gordon," Momma said with a chuckle. " I helped her pick out a nice royal blue dress."

 

Frank smiled proudly. "That's great. Was it that party dress you were workin' on a few weeks ago?"

 

"You bet and she loved it!" I said happily. "Her name is Cookie, and she’s an absolute sweetheart."

 

"Of course she did!" Frank beamed with pride.

 

"It's the first time I've ever gotten to help someone in the shop. I'm glad I took this job years ago. It turned out to be a huge blessing after all."

 

"We're all proud of ya!" mama chimed in, planting a kiss on my forehead as she got up from the table. "Anybody want coffee?"

 

Sunday evening rolled around and we headed down the road after finishing our dinner. Frank looked a bit more tired than usual, but no one thought much about it. He'd had health problems in the last few years, but seemed to recover for the most part. "He's just overdoin' it, but there ain't no tellin' him to slow down." I would always tell people.

 

Frank shook everyone's hand and took his usual seat. He stood up as service started as the preacher allowed the church members to share what God had done for them.

 

"My Lord has always taken care of me and my family," he spoke boldly. "Melda and I have quite the story," Frank paused, the words of praise trickling out of him. "When I didn't have no momma, Jesus was there. When we lost our Mavarine, Jesus was there. He smiled, as he motioned towards Gordon and me. "I remember when she and I were young. He helped us both in mighty ways. He's been our shelter. He's been our rescuer. He's always provided for us. He saved our souls from a fiery hell." Frank recounted as a tear fell down his cheek. "I am so thankful for what Christ has done for me too. Life has been more than blessed because of Him. I don't know what else to say, but thank you, Jesus." Frank raised his hand, as he stood for a few minutes more before returning to his seat. There were several shouts of amen before we realized something was wrong. Frank’s body slumped over in an instant.

 

"He's not breathing!" A lady beside me shouted. "Somebody call an ambulance!"

 

Frank’s funeral took place a few days later at Everett’s house.

 

"I can't believe he's gone," I cried, dabbing at my eyes with a handkerchief.  "I don't know how to go on without him. We were kids when we met." I continued, hugging Grace tightly.

 

"He's in a better place. He was never shy about sharing all about Jesus." A man said as he walked into the room. "I was one of his coworkers at the TNT plant. He left quite an impact. A wonderful friend. Always there when I needed him." he continued. "

 

"I'm so glad. I never caught your name before." I said, standing up to shake his hand.

 

"Oh, I should have told you before. My name is Tom," he replied with a smile. "It's been a long time since I've seen Frank. I'm so sorry for your loss."  Tom looked at me with remembering eyes.

 

"Thank you for coming. It means a lot." I replied, my voice tired from the day.

 

"I wanted to," said Tom. "He was a good Christian man."

 

Tom was silent for a few minutes and told us that he had to go home. It was amazing to see how many lives my Frank touched without him even realizing it.

 

I'll never forget the feeling of those first few days without him. I knew we would get through it. Gordon still needed me, and I would always be there for him. Frank was my first hero and my true love. A  testament to how a life of faith should play out. A shining example of how one should always follow Jesus and trust in His leading.

 

Christ is the door of eternal life. The good shepherd will bless your broken road beyond comprehension. All you have to do is allow Him into your heart. His redeeming grace will save you from an eternity in Hell. Frank testified for the Lord until his very last breath and inspired those he loved to do the same. We would continue to trust in the good shepherd through it all.

 

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek." (Romans 1:16)

 

 

 

 

 

Running Home: The Overcomer (Short Story Series Story #11)

  

(January 1948: Lincoln County, West Virginia)

 

The passing of four years and some months happened in the blink of an eye. The loving presence of our family and unwavering faith in the Lord provided so much strength through a period of unimaginable grief. Life back on the farm introduced us to the love of new faces. One of Frank’s great adventures led him to bring home a whole slew of dogs one afternoon: Newfoundlands Otis and Maizey, Basset Hound Libby, Minnie the mutt, and Ody a precious black labrador. At first, I wasn’t sure how we would care for them, but they immediately stole my heart.

 

I loved watching Gordon have a chance to make his own farm life memories; he was always playing Cowboys and Indians with his cousins and enjoying the beautiful seasons that surrounded us; the sweet reminder that time is precious. The smell of mama’s tomato hamburger soup always brings a smile to his face. It is his favorite meal. Finding joy in those small blessings was still important to our family.

 

. As we were finishing dinner at mama’s one afternoon, we could see flames consuming the walls of our home. Our feet never touched the ground as we ran down the road in hopes of putting out the fire and salvaging whatever we could. The smoke was thick like fog traveling through the air and the scent grew stronger as we got closer. It nearly stole our breath. I let out a piercing scream of anguish as the fire burned away precious memories far into the night. Frank took off looking for the dogs who had vanished. We lost almost everything we owned. The next morning I felt blessed to find a few items, including pictures and the Bible I received when I got saved.

 

Frank kept on looking for the dogs but they were nowhere in sight. He took a moment to sit by himself and reflect, crying out to the Lord through prayer:

 

“We have been through so much. Lord, I just don’t get it,” he cried out, arms raised to the sky. “ Why do things like this keep happening? Ain’t we gone through enough?” He continued the prayer, filling the silence of a devastating moment.

 

“It is somethin’ that all our important stuff made it out”, he said through tears. “My heart believes only You could’ve been watchin’ over us.” He stood up and straightened his shirt. “I’m also thankful that we are all safe,” he said, thinking of his precious family. “Things could have been a lot worse, but how much more can one family go through?” he said, finishing his prayer. “I trust that You will pull us through somehow. In Jesus name, I pray, Amen.”

 

Two days passed before I was able to head back to work at the dress shop. I took Gordon with me as I wanted to tell Donna that we needed a little time to get back on our feet. Little did I know how fast news travels within such a short amount of time. As we walked through the door of the shop,  a flock of concerned customers surrounded us. They had become some of my dearest friends.

 

“We wanted to tell ya how sorry we were to hear about the fire,” Donna said, enveloping us both in a hug, “You mean so much to us. The customers just love you. She motioned towards several bags full of clothing of all sizes. “People have been dropping things off all day long, and some of them we’re not sure where they came from!”

 

My smile widened as I glanced over at the pile of bags. It was a true blessing.

 

“I don’t know what to say. Thank y’all so much,” I managed as my eyes were filling up with tears. “This is so great! Frank won’t believe this!”  I hugged Donna one last time before heading back to mama’s where we stayed for a while. 

 

As I walked through the front door all I could do was smile as Gordon and I carried the bags inside. “Look what I got at the shop today!” I said excitedly. “Donna said customers left these bags for us!”  Frank wore a look of surprise.

 

“What in the world?” He began to rummage through the bags and a smile crept upon his face. “Well, ain’t that somethin’?” he continued pulling clothes out of the bag as mama walked into the room.

 

“That’s quite a load you got there,” mama said, looking around the room in amazement. As Frank and I looked at each other, we knew that the Lord had a hand in that day. We knew that He had used this time to give us another example of boundless love while easing the sorrow in our hearts through the unexpected kindness and unwavering support of those around us.

 

In the midst of all our raging seas, the Lord remained as our fortress and mighty deliverer. He was that constant source of refuge through our trials and tribulations. We would always stand strong and choose to cling to our faith; forever grabbing onto the fierce buckler our weary souls needed. Our fervent reliance upon His Word worked to pull us through the fire, helping each one of us to wear the identity of the overcomer. An identity of continued strength that would keep us going on our great adventures.

 

“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.” (Psalm 18:2)