the Journey

Another hill taken today

Another barricade removed!.

Today is the 5th year anniversary of a vicious attack on my husband.

He was stabbed 3 times by a poacher and left for dead.

Why?
Someone thought deer antlers were more important than someone's life!

Today is also the opening day of pheasant season - just as it was 5 years ago. 

Even before the attack, I would stay home on this week-end to help Marvin

and to make sure hunters stayed out of our yard and out of our buildings. 

A few weeks ago, I promised my friend, Penny,  that I would help her
when the crew from the Covenant Church came to redo her roof. 

My mistake was that I promised . . . not knowing the date. 

This morning I was so angry that the crew chose November 13th.  

I almost backed out and was thinking of calling to say so.  

But - I was preempted. 

Penny called ME first to make sure I was coming. 
I think she had an inkling of my emotional state.

The Glass Window - in the wee hours of today.

“A glass window stands before us.  We raise our eyes and see the glass; we note its quality, and observe its defects; we speculate on its composition.  Or . . . we look straight through it onto the great prospect of land and sea and the sky beyond.”  Benjamin B Warfield. 

The above phrase suddenly leaped off the web page a few moments ago?  Out of all the pages boringly scrolling by, why this statement? 

Vaguely, as if through a fog, thoughts begin to form.  But what?   Suddenly it hits me.   I remembered the wee hours of today.   

Something that had already receded from my memory . . . . had I not just stumbled across those words by Benjamin Warfield.   

The window?  It’s the reference to the glass window?  Yes!  I remember now.  Thank you Lord, for your reminder. 

The phone!  It’s ringing.  I hear myself crying out loud, “Oh no!  Oh no!”.  I’m sitting straight up in bed, in terror, fumbling in the dark for the phone before I even know I’m awake. 

My parents!  One of them is dead.  Surely it’s not Tammy  - she’s healthy . . . . . . . unless she threw a clot to her lung.  Please no, God, I can’t handle anything more right now.  Please, God!