My sister looked at the cage and then back at me. “Ok. I think you should take a moment and listen to yourself.”
“Or maybe listen to your sister.” The woman yelled gleefully.
“You’ve kidnapped somebody. What exactly do you think this is going to accomplish?”
“I have to know how to make it stop. This is the only way. Mom’s getting worse every day.”
“Kidnapping somebody isn’t going to help mom. We need to pray and trust God with mom.”
“Those words won’t work.” The woman sighed, “This hypocrite is too blind to see or hear any truth.”
“I’m the hypocrite? You’re the one acting like you love God. Who’s lying now?” I yelled.
The woman threw her fist towards the cell door, turned at the last minute and hit them on the ground. “Grace and mercy are wasted on filthy wretches!” She stood up, blood was dripping from where she had smashed her hands against the floor. “Did He offer us forgiveness? Did He offer us a second chance, or a third, or a fourth? No! But for you He sends the Son to pay your debt. Filthy wretched whores!” Her face shook so fast it became a blur for a moment. She dropped down to her knees and began whispering under her breath.
I turned to my sister. “See I told you.”
“This isn’t the way to help mom. You have to trust God. Put her in God’s hands and…”
“NO!” I shook my head. “We’ve already tried that. She’s not getting any better. This makes more sense.”
“This?” my sister waved her taped hands toward the cell, “This makes more sense to you?”
“In wars, they interrogate soldiers to get inside information. You keep saying that her cancer is not from God so I thought maybe I should go to the source.”
She looked at the cell and then at me. “You’ve lost your mind! You need to pray and talk to God, not interrogate demons!” She shook her head. “This isn’t what mom would want and especially not God.”
“How do you know what God wants?” I threw the chair across the room, “If He cared, if He was real why would He just let Mom suffer every day?”
“Because He is just.” The woman sobbed.
I turned to the cell. “What did you say?”
She stood up and stared at me with tears streaming down her face. “He is just! His ways are great!”
Copyright © 2018 Nicole Donoho. All Rights Reserved.
A New Identity
What is this blog about? You mean, I'm supposed to have a purpose? Ok, if that's required then my purpose is life.
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