Movie Night Reminder

Just a reminder that this Friday is the 8th grade and High school Movie night. We will be watching Nacho Libre featuring Jack Black. There will also be ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT Nachos!!!! The event goes from 7:00-9:00 PM and is absolutely FREE! If you are like me and want to bring your own dip, that is perfectly acceptable as well. 

A Prayer Through Psalms: Chapter 9

I Will Recount Your Wonderful Deeds

Psalm 9

To the choirmaster: according to Muth-labben. A Psalm of David.

1 I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart;

   I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.

2 I will be glad and exult in you;

   I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.

3 When my enemies turn back,

   they stumble and perish before your presence.

4 For you have maintained my just cause;

   you have sat on the throne, giving righteous judgment.

5 You have rebuked the nations; you have made the wicked perish;

   you have blotted out their name forever and ever.

6 The enemy came to an end in everlasting ruins;

   their cities you rooted out;

   the very memory of them has perished.

7 But the Lord sits enthroned forever;

   he has established his throne for justice,

8 and he judges the world with righteousness;

   he judges the peoples with uprightness.

9 The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed,

   a stronghold in times of trouble.

10 And those who know your name put their trust in you,

   for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you.

11 Sing praises to the Lord, who sits enthroned in Zion!

   Tell among the peoples his deeds!

12 For he who avenges blood is mindful of them;

   he does not forget the cry of the afflicted.

13 Be gracious to me, O Lord!

   See my affliction from those who hate me,

   O you who lift me up from the gates of death,

14 that I may recount all your praises,

   that in the gates of the daughter of Zion

   I may rejoice in your salvation.

15 The nations have sunk in the pit that they made;

   in the net that they hid, their own foot has been caught.

16 The Lord has made himself known; he has executed judgment;

   the wicked are snared in the work of their own hands. Higgaion. Selah

17 The wicked shall return to Sheol,

   all the nations that forget God.

18 For the needy shall not always be forgotten,

   and the hope of the poor shall not perish forever.

19 Arise, O Lord! Let not man prevail;

   let the nations be judged before you!

20 Put them in fear, O Lord!

   Let the nations know that they are but men! Selah

This Psalm begins as a Psalm of thanksgiving, but David takes a sharp turn in the tone of the Psalm in verse 13. This tone is continued to Chapter 10, so stay tuned!

9:1- The word "wonderful deeds" refers to God's actions in human affairs such as the Exodus.

9:3- This verse does not refer to some past event, but rather a future hope.

9:4- David does not find hope in himself, but the righteousness of God.

9:5- This verse is contrasted with God's name used in verse 2 to indicate that He will be praised forever. However, the enemies of God will be forgotten.

9:11- Those who are persecuted can be confident that God will be with them here on Earth. 

9:13- The first sign of David's distress.

9:14- The gates of the daughter of Zion are contrasted with the gates of death. David will praise God in the most public place in Jerusalem.

9:15- The wicked will have to face the consequences for their actions at some time or another.

9:17- The wicked are all those who have forgotten and turned away from God.

9:18- While the terms "poor and needy" may not necessarily refer to people in poverty, it does refer to those who have placed total dependence on God. God will respond to all those who humble themselves and call on his grace.

9:20- The wicked have come to believe that they are greater than God, David asks God to remind the wicked that they are man and God is... God.

My prayer for this week is that we, followers of Christ, will give our thanks to God in reverence for His justice and wrath. However, I pray that we also take joy in the fact that God is faithful and loving and has provided reconciliation through His Son, Jesus Christ. I pray that God will receive as much glory as he is due for His greatness and kindness.

The Earth is Red with Clay: Part 6- Finale

It was the Apocalypse all over again; the horror of it summarized in the span of ten minutes. I have never heard anything so loud in my whole life- the popping of bullets, the thunder of crumbling rock, the roar of tank fire. It drowned out all the cries of the people around me, including my own. I quickly lost Dandy in the fray as Atari pulled me into a shielded nook in the wall, and pulled against his iron grip. He shoved me into the corner, ordering me to stay, before running back out into the massacre. Fire consumed my vision before I could see where he went. I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow, uttering nothing but incoherent noises. I couldn’t watch; I just cried hoping someone would find me- if there was anyone left. My body shook with my sobbing and the deep shaking of the earth below me. I looked up only once- into the black glazed mask of one soldiers, his rifle aimed at my nose. Another soldiers knocked the gun, ruining the aim and sending a bullet cracking into the wall. He fervidly pointed at me, mumbling something to his comrade, before grabbing my arm and hoisting me off the ground. I wanted to scream but instead my body froze, fear stiffening my limbs till my consciousness quit and I collapsed into the soldiers arms.

…

                I don’t know how long a stayed unconscious, maybe for days. The burns on my forehead and shins are healing and the bruise on my arm is as purple as ever. They tell me I’m in Headquarters, though I have yet to see any of its glory. My only view is the gray cement of a prison cell and the shiny metallic table that takes up the majority of the floor space.

                I don’t know how long I’ve been awake, maybe for days. There is no night or day in this tiny room, no visitors to tell the time. Everything for the rest of days looks bleak and dreary and hopeless.

                I am just about to drift back into a fitful sleep when the door of the cell finally clanks open. Two guards precede my guest- the census man. My first reaction is to leap across the table and smack him clear through the wall, but his words stop me first. “Dandy’s going to be okay. I didn’t want to give you any news until it was good news.” His face sags and his mouth only curls in the impression of a smirk. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you sooner.”

                I pull up a chair to the table, leaning eagerly over the edge. “Go on.” My curiosity is hard to contain. I want to know everything that happened- I missed so much of it. I want to know who was still alive, who I needed to mourn. I want answers.

                Statton pulls out the other chair and sits down. “The boy is in critical care but not gone. We were worried about Dandy for a while but she pulled through.” The thought of Dandy being hurt for any amount of time dug into my stomach. “Their parents are spun up but physically okay. They all know that you are alive.”

                I lean back in my chair, satisfied with his answers so far. But he’s not finished yet. “Go on…”

                “Right, about… our conversation before… you still might not be…”

                “Your daughter?” I spit the words out like venom. In all my years of praying for a father, why did it have to be him?

                “But there is still the… slight chance. The genetics lab is still out for testing so, neither of us will know for a couple days.” He looks sheepishly down at the table, unable to face my gaze.

                My pitiful snickering catches him off guard. Look at us, sitting in a prison cell, thinking that the world could change overnight- like human nature was buried in the earth along with all the other monsters. The Apocalypse will never truly die, some part of it will always survive in the wiring of the human brain, bound to make the same mistakes as its ancestors.

                “Is it gone- the town?” I know the answer- I saw too much destruction not to. But I want him to say it out loud, to admit it.

                “Yes.”

                Always more destruction- even in building you must tear up the earth.

                “There is still a lot left to do…” he starts. “I’d like to build things, rather than break them, for a change. Do you… care to join me?” I think it’s the closest to reconciliation as I’m going to get.

                “Do you think we can?” I ask, more to the void of humanity than any particular person. “Can we start over after falling so far?”

                “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He flashes me that tired attempt at a sympathetic grin. He stands up from his seat and saunters towards the door.

                “Wait!” I holler just as the lock clicks open. I have to know one last thing before he leaves. “What was your daughter’s name? Just in case… in case it’s me.” I’ll regret fostering this kind of hope later.

                “Johanna. Johanna Synclair Statton.” I can almost see the memories that flutter across his mind’s eye when he says that name.

                “I’m sorry you lost her.” If it is hard to lose a parent, I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child. It must have drove him mad.

                “I’m sorry you lost her too.”

                He doesn’t say another word as he leaves the room and lets the door close with a crashing bang.

                Maybe he needs to heal just as much as I do.

                Maybe he’s worth fixing too.

                Johanna Synclair… it doesn’t sound too bad, I suppose. 

Fideles Drama Presents:The Skin of Our Teeth

This year the Fideles Drama Program is putting on a production of The Skin of Our Teeth. Don't miss the Antrobus family narrowly escape one disaster after another, from ancient times to the present. They will overcome ice, flood, and war- by the skin of their teeth! This poignant commentary on the nature of man and the overcoming of insurmountable struggles is well worth a watch.

Performances on Friday, April 29th 7:00 PM and April 30th 6:30 PM.

Special Dress Rehearsal: Thursday, April 28th 6:00 PM. (Select Tickets Available)

The Earth is Red with Clay: Part 5

I honestly can’t tell you how long I’ve been down here. Without the sun or moon to guide the number of days, it feels like I have been here for eternity- the most gratifying, pleasant eternity anyone could ask for. To even have a family again is a gift in itself, but the whole community has welcomed me. I’m finally starting to heal, and it feels wonderful.

                I have found I have a talent for cooking. Deborah says that I have spices running through my veins and a brain meant for creating. It’s a silly thought- I don’t actually have paprika and cinnamon in my blood- but I have found my home in the kitchen. Dandy likes to come in and play as my sous chef occasionally and she is catching on very quickly. She can name all of Deborah’s myriad of seasonings and sometimes even goes with Deborah and me to the farmers market. Atari sometimes will pitch in with dinner making, but that boy could burn water if he wasn’t careful, so he usually leaves the more challenging things to the women.

Yes, life in our little town of clay is simple and yet satisfying. If only it could stay that way forever.

…

They came at the breaking of dawn.

                I don’t know how they made it down here or what they could possibly want, but they brought with them their instruments of science and war, like conquerors bent on capture.

They had found us.

Headquarters

                I wasn't even supposed to be up that early, but I had woken up with a terrible nightmare and had decided it best to let the terror wear off while making breakfast. The kitchen had been dead quiet while I was making cinnamon bread when gradually, the dishes began to rattle and a dull rumble vibrated the room. I ran out to the hallway and peered out the window towards the lake chasm.  And there they were, marching in a mass of unadulterated force. There were hundreds- no thousands- of adults dressed identically with all sorts of horrifying devices strapped to their backs.

There are more them now.

                The noises have started to stir many of the other town members and Atari, Dandy and I are hunkered down in the kitchen. That's where Dandy's father left us when he left to investigate our arrival's purpose. All of this eerily reminds me of Dandy and I’s time during the Apocalypse- the hiding, the deathly quiet, the panic. All of those things have found a way to permeate this perfect world too. Nowhere is free of the Apocalypse's reach, even when it's over.

                “Welcome guests…” The clanking of boots and vehicles silences. The outer market echoes with the voice of Dandy’s father. “What brings you to our refuge?”

                Another voice enters. “I should really be welcoming you, old friend. The Apocalypse is over. We’ve come to take you home.” The voice is familiar. I thumb through every face in my memory, hoping to find a match to the mystery voice below us. I can almost see him- clean and put together. He was familiar to me back then too. The census man.

                I shimmy across the floor and peer out the window that overlooks the outer market. It’s him, the census man, leading the invaders, standing toe to toe with Dandy’s father. But how does a census man turn into an army general? And why is he still so familiar? Dandy’s father seems to recognize him too.

                “Statton? Is that really you? After all these years, you survived?” Dandy’s father does not move to embrace his long lost friend but rather stares in bewilderment. There is a tension that grows between them.

                “Hello, Carver. It’s seems I’m not the only one who fared well in the Apocalypse, I see.” Statton goes to take a step forward, but Dandy’s father shrinks back.

                The two continue to converse but my attention is abruptly drawn to the rapid footsteps fleeing down the stairs. “Dandy!” I whisper, but she is long gone, and Atari takes my hand, dragging me along after her. Atari and I fly through corridor and staircase till we finally find Dandy running across the market and into the arms of her father. Too late.

                “Well, what do we have here?” Statton crouches down to Dandy’s level and extends his hand. “You must be the courageous Dandy Lion. We were all worried about you after you fell into that ditch in the construction site.”

                “How do you know her?” Dandy’s father growls, positioning himself between Statton and his daughter.

                “Like I said, I was worried after she fell into that big gaping hole you’ve got over the lake. It’s on a construction site I am in charge of. What should you care, she’s not yours.” The snarl that slips out Dandy’s father makes him reconsider.

                 “What exactly are you constructing, Carver?”

                Statton sighs and stands back up. “Housing, Carver. For all the homeless people you didn’t bother to bring to your refuge. Must you be so defensive with me? I’m one of the good guys.”

                “No!” Dandy’s father bellows, causing all of us, including Statton, to jump. “No, you do not get to call yourself one of the good guys, Statton, not after what you wrought upon this earth.”

                Atari and I, who have been idly watching the confrontation from a short distance, are slowing being drawn into the tension. Each step we take brings us closer into the conflict, until Statton snaps his head in our direction, finally bringing our presence into the light.  

                His eyes and mouth widen slightly at the sight of, I think, me. His whole complexion seems to soften. “So… you lived too.”

                Dandy’s father turns between us, Statton and I fearfully glaring at each other, as his brain seems to be making connections that mine can’t. “Statton, you don’t actually believe…”

                “Believe what?!” I shout. What are they talking about?! I’m scared…

                “Georgia… it’s okay.” Statton croons, slowly stepping over to me. “He doesn’t know what he’s-“

                “He thinks you’re his daughter, Georgia.”

                “Shut up, Carver! This doesn’t have anything to do with you!” Statton hisses.

                “Think, Georgia.” Dandy’s father urges. “Can you remember anything from the start of the Apocalypse?”

                “I, uh, um…” My mind is blank with confusion. “My mother died three years into the Apocalypse. I-I didn’t have any siblings.” I’m scrambling for anything I can think of. I haven’t thought about most of this in so long. “Claytown! We lived in an actual town called Claytown, not just a neighborhood. And it was in… Ge… Geor… Georgia! Yes, a state called Georgia, like me! And my father worked for the  zoo as an animal doctor… or something.” Now everyone looks terrified.

                “Statton…” Dandy’s father cautions. Statton doesn’t look like he’s here anymore.

                “No… it’s not possible…”

                “What? W-What did I say?” Confusion only seems to build.

                “Georgia… your father and I were friends before the Apocalypse.” Dandy’s father starts. “He worked for the Missouri State Zoo, yes, but… he wasn’t exactly an animal doctor.” Still no reaction from Statton.

                “What do you mean?”

                “He was hired by the government to splice the DNA of many of the zoo animals together to make modified animals to be studied. But it didn’t go as planned…”

                “Georgia… your father created the Apocalypse.”

                Statton snaps back to reality. “Shut up! Just shut up! She doesn’t need to know that! She doesn’t need-“

                “Statton, what are your actual intentions of coming down here!? You don’t bring machine guns and tanks on a peace mission; do not think I am stupid!”

                Statton’s face burns red and his eyebrows furrow with rage. “I… am trying… to unite… the world, Carver. I dare you to stand in my way.”

                “I dare you to take this village away from me. And I dare you to show the might of your firearms in front of your long lost daughter.”

                Silence.

                “Well Carver, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m not one of the good guys…”

                “FIRE!”

A Prayer Through Psalms: Chapter 8

How Majestic Is Your Name

Psalm 8

To the choirmaster: according to The Gittith. A Psalm of David.

1 O Lord, our Lord,

   how majestic is your name in all the earth!

You have set your glory above the heavens.

2     Out of the mouth of babies and infants,

you have established strength because of your foes,

   to still the enemy and the avenger.

3 When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,

   the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

4 what is man that you are mindful of him,

   and the son of man that you care for him?

5 Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings[b]

   and crowned him with glory and honor.

6 You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;

   you have put all things under his feet,

7 all sheep and oxen,

   and also the beasts of the field,

8 the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,

   whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

9 O Lord, our Lord,

   how majestic is your name in all the earth!

This is a Psalm of praise where the psalmist exalts God for putting small men in charge of all creation. This psalm focuses greatly on the excellence of God through His creation and kindness. 

8:1- "Our Lord" in this passage can also be translated as "governor" or "leader." God is the righteous leader of his covenant people.

8:2-The contrast is between weak and strong; however, the weak sing out God's praises so they are given strength to silence the strong.

8:3- The work of God's fingers implies the level of detail and attention God put into creating the vastness of the universe.

8:4- While thinking about the vastness of the Universe and the greatness of God, man is very little.

8:5- The word "elohim" means "heavenly beings" in this passage rather than "God", because this verse shows how God made man to have power over creation, similar to heavenly beings.

8:6- God graciously put man in charge of His creation.

Dear Lord, as the Psalmist says in the last verse of Psalm 8," O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" You are great, you are righteous, and you are kind to your people. Lord, I pray that we will keep our eyes focused on your greatness and live in a state of constant thanksgiving because you gave us the honor of having dominion over your creation. Please, give us wisdom as we try to fulfill our duty of looking after what you've made. Amen.

Prom Night Anxieties

        Excitement is rising as Prom night draws nearer and nearer. We now stand only one day

away from one of the most memorable nights in all of high school. This year's prom is Great

Gatsby themed and is being held at the Polo Golf and Country Club. The whole night's experience

has been carefully crafted by our lovely prom committee to be the best night ever. There will be

music, dancing, and a fondue fountain. Here's hoping everyone has a wonderful night!

The Earth is Red with Clay: Part 4

When I wake up from my fall, I feel like I am floating in midair. I try to take in some air but there is none. Nothing but a mouthful of water. A lake. At the bottom of the hole is a lake. But I am so disoriented, I can’t tell which way is up. I barely know how to swim. All I can seem to manage is flailing my arms about in the water. The air is running out. I… can’t… breathe…

                Suddenly, I feel a sharp thug on the back of my dress, and I am starting to be pulled up, up to the surface. I finally reach the top, and my lungs gasp in as much air as they can. There is something else there beside me. A boat maybe? And there is someone in the boat, the person that pulled me out of the water. Even now they have grabbed my hands and are starting to pull me up and over into the boat. I am still thrashing about in the water. “I-I can’t- swim,” is all I can spit out.

                “Stop splashing!” the person in the boat commands, “its ok, I’ve got you.” And with one last heave, I roll over the side and onto the floor of the boat like the catch of the day. My vision is blurred with water, but I can start to make out the face of the person who rescued me. It’s a boy, about my age, and his only feature to pierce through the dots swimming in front of my eyes is his great big blue eyes. So… so… blue. “Hello,” I hear him say. He seems so distant now; I must be falling back into unconsciousness. “My name is Atari.” 

…

                Even with my eyes closed, I can feel the room spinning. I feel as if I left my brain floating in the lake, and it is still bobbing up and down when the rest of me is still. I carefully, painfully move my hand across the surface that I am lying on. It feels soft like cloud material; I almost guess that it was sheets on a bed, but none of my sheets have ever felt so luxurious. I keep inching my hand across the bed until it slips off of the side and another hand catches it. The new hand is small and gritty like the person has spent the past couple hours playing in soil. It fingers my knuckles for a second, massaging out the tension.

                “G?” the little voice whispers. It seems like it is spoken to me through water, which is probably still clogging my ears. But… did I hear it correctly? It didn’t just call me G, did it? Because that nickname was given to me by…

                “Dandy!” I shoot out of bed only to collapse on the floor in weakness at her feet. My head ache makes it too painful to open my eyes, but that does not stop them from shedding tears. S-She’s here. She’s really here. I feel her chubby arms wrap around my neck. “I thought you were- I thought I’d never see you again.” My words can’t come out as anything more than a string of blubbering.

                “Oh, G! I’m so glad you’re alright! When Atari pulled you out of the lake, you looked like one of those drowned rats, and I was sure that you were a goner.” Good old Dandy; always knowing how to inject an insult into a perfectly happy moment. I laugh in spite of myself.

                Suddenly, there is a quiet knock at the door. “Good to see you’re up.” The voice sounds thick and sweet like drowning in maple syrup. I think it is Atari’s, the boy that saved me. My eyes flutter open long enough to see him kneel down next to Dandy and me. “How are you feeling?” he says putting his cool hand against my forehead.

                “Fine,” I start, trying to keep my eyes open longer. I see Dandy curling herself up in my lap and Atari’s blue eyes staring at me. “I think I’ve still got some lake water sloshing around in my head, but other than that I’ll be okay.” We all laugh.

                Now that I can keep my eyes open, I am finally able to take in my surroundings. It looks like a cave carved out of the Georgia red clay, with smooth walls and floor other than the occasional ascent peddle sticking out of the mud. The only furniture in the room is a solitary wooden bed covered in white sheets. There are candles scattered about the room to give light but other than that there is no sun. “Where are we?” I finally whisper.

                “Well, are you up for a walk? Maybe we could show you?” Atari replies. He and Dandy help me to my feet. Dandy grabs my hand and Atari my elbow as they lead me out of the little cave through the door. Everything is so smooth and soft here, there are no sharp or rough edges, just gentle sloping curves. The red clay seems to have worn down everything that it has touched until it is soft and tender, from wooden bed posts to human skin.  We walk through several hallways passing several doorways and bedrooms like the one we left. There is still nothing but the forever stretching red clay. Suddenly, the hallway comes to the end and… I could never in a thousand years imagine what I was standing in front of.

                It was a city, completely built of the Georgia red clay. There were buildings and markets and pillars sprouting straight out of the ground drenched in deep crimson color. It almost looked like an entire wall of buildings and houses stacked on top of each other reaching to the ceiling, surrounding a courtyard full of market tents and statues and children playing and parents talking. Parents, real parents. There was even shrubbery popping out of the ground at scattered intervals around the courtyard. It was like a whole world had been buried underground.

                While we are looking over the balcony at the spectacle below, a pair of adults walk up to us. They are dressed slightly nicer than the people who I see below us. “Well, hello! We were just looking for you.” The man hollers. Dandy lets go of me and runs into the man’s arms as he picks her up and puts her on his shoulders. She giggles as he tickles her toes.

 “Who are they?” I whisper in Atari’s ear. Dandy’s behavior surprises me; I have never seen her this… happy. For the past seven years or so that I have known her, she has always been a dismal kid, rarely smiling and never laughing like this. Even when she was an infant, and my mother and I raised her together, she cried much more than laughed. Who are this people that they should solicit such an unheard of emotion out of her?

                “They are my parents.” Atari replies, “But…”

                “But what?”

                “They are also Dandy’s.”

                Dandy’s parents? She found her parents? And Atari’s her… brother? But… how? Why would they leave their daughter in a ditch on the side of the road and then leave for a prosperous city completely sheltered from the Apocalypse? It doesn’t make any sense. And it’s almost cruel. My questions are just about to spill out of my mouth, when the woman who must be Dandy’s mother walks up to me. “And who might you be?” she asks.

                “My name is Georgia, Dandy’s si-“  It seems wrong to call myself Dandy’s sister when I am standing in front of her mother, who is most definitely not mine.

                “She’s Dandy’s sister.” Atari finishes. I look over at him, startled. He shouldn’t have said that.

                “Oh yes! Dandy’s sister, that’s right. She has told us so much about you. We are so glad that you could join us.” The woman gushes. She takes me by the hand, away from Atari. “Are you hungry dear? Would you like to come over for supper?” Supper does sound wonderful, so I can’t help but accept the invitation. And with that we all walk to Dandy and her parent’s house.

…

                Dinner is wonderful. Dandy’s mom made stew with vegetables and an odd variety of spices. It is still the best thing that I have eaten in the past seven years. Dandy seems to like it too. Dandy seems to like everything about this place. She spent almost the whole dinner conversation talking about how one of the fishermen on the lake had rescued and how she had been brought back into the city and found her parents. Her parents are actually the founders of the city and are the ones in charge. Dandy’s father explains how a group of people decided soon after the Apocalypse started that they needed to find a place where they and their families would be safe. When it was declared that the Apocalypse was a worldwide epidemic, they decided that the only safe place left was underground.

                “And the city has been here ever since.” Dandy’s father concludes his story.

                “Okay, so there is one thing left that I don’t understand.” I start, “Why did you leave Dandy behind?”

                Dandy’s parents hesitantly glance at each other. “Well… until about a week ago, we thought she was dead.” The whole table lapses into morose silence at the mere thought. So many hours of loneliness are wrapped up in those words, so many nights of grief. Dandy’s father brightens at a new thought. “And it is truly a miracle that our precious baby girl has been brought back to us at last.” Everyone nods with cheerful agreement.

                A satisfied quiet hangs in the air as everyone continues to devour their stew. They all look so happy, just absorbing each other’s presence. They look complete. Nothing like the gaunt, huddled masses I had seen for the past few years. I look at them, Dandy and her family, and I am reminded that I can’t have that- all that I’ve lost. Atari is discreetly making goofy faces at his sister, who is trying to contain her erupting laughter. Both of their parents gaze contently at their blissful children. Is this what a family looks like? Is this what I’ve lost? Did my mother use to look at me with that comforting smile that Dandy’s mother wears? Or did I once have siblings that tried to make me laugh? Did I ever laugh as a child? I sit, somehow separated from the warmth at the table, and wonder if the Apocalypse has stolen more than my family. It stole me- or at least who Georgia Clay used to be. The girl whose name I couldn’t recall when the Headquarters man asked for it. I wonder if that girl is lost too.

                Unfortunately, it is impossible to have such deep and sullen thoughts without some emotion showing on your face. The tears dripping from my chin into my bowl do not go unnoticed. “Georgia dear,” Dandy’s mother croons, “Is something the matter?” I cannot bare the maternal pity in her voice. I can’t make any words escape my mouth before I have shoved myself away from the table and rushed out the door in a wave of sobs. 

                The hallway is empty and I cannot contain the bubbling lump in my throat any longer. I crumble onto the floor and cry for everything I haven’t allowed myself to in the past seven years. I cry like a child that has given up looking for her mother and desperately hopes that her echoing sobs call her back. I rub my cheek against the smooth touch of the red clay, hoping that it will somehow bring back a memory of my mother’s touch. I lay like this, helpless as a child, for several minutes as I finally let out all the agony that I have held in for so long. After those several minutes, I hear the faint footsteps and brush of fabric pace to my side.

                “Georgia…” The voice is calm and soft. It burns my ears. “It’s Deborah, Dandy’s mother. Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”

                At Deborah’s request, I try to gather my thoughts into coherent words. It doesn’t work. “I-I… I want my mother, but I don’t have a mother! The world took her from me but I want her and she’s not here, Deborah- she’s not here! I want my mother, Deborah! I don’t want to be alone… please don’t leave me alone…” My shrieking is at a fever pitch now.

                Dandy’s mother holds my cheeks in her soft hands and makes me stare into her big mother doe eyes. “Georgia.” She speaks my name with much more conviction this time. “You aren’t alone- not anymore.” I try to look away but her hands keep my head steady. “Now listen to me, you are here for reason. The Apocalypse didn’t leave you alive just to die alone. And you know what… you are my daughter. I am your mother now. So you called for me and here I am.” Her eyes are beginning to well with tears also. She wraps me in her arms, tight enough to squeeze all my broken pieces back together.

                And in this moment, I know that that lost girl is really gone. That girl that lived before the Apocalypse, who had a loving mother, and maybe even a father, who was happy and innocent, could finally die in peace. She rested deep under the red clay and all that was left was Georgia. Sad, tired, broken Georgia. Nothing more than clay hoping that the arms of this new mother could mold her into something whole.

                Georgia Clay can be a child again.

                And I am okay with that. 

A Prayer Through Psalms: Chapter 7

In You Do I Take Refuge

Psalm 7

A Shiggaion of David, which he sang to the Lord concerning the words of Cush, a Benjaminite.

1 O Lord my God, in you do I take refuge;

   save me from all my pursuers and deliver me,

2 lest like a lion they tear my soul apart,

   rending it in pieces, with none to deliver.

3 O Lord my God, if I have done this,

   if there is wrong in my hands,

4 if I have repaid my friend with evil

   or plundered my enemy without cause,

5 let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it,

   and let him trample my life to the ground

   and lay my glory in the dust. Selah

6 Arise, O Lord, in your anger;

   lift yourself up against the fury of my enemies;

   awake for me; you have appointed a judgment.

7 Let the assembly of the peoples be gathered about you;

   over it return on high.

8 The Lord judges the peoples;

   judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness

   and according to the integrity that is in me.

9 Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end,

   and may you establish the righteous—

you who test the minds and hearts,

   O righteous God!

10 My shield is with God,

   who saves the upright in heart.

11 God is a righteous judge,

   and a God who feels indignation every day.

12 If a man does not repent, God will whet his sword;

   he has bent and readied his bow;

13 he has prepared for him his deadly weapons,

   making his arrows fiery shafts.

14 Behold, the wicked man conceives evil

   and is pregnant with mischief

   and gives birth to lies.

15 He makes a pit, digging it out,

   and falls into the hole that he has made.

16 His mischief returns upon his own head,

   and on his own skull his violence descends.

17 I will give to the Lord the thanks due to his righteousness,

   and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High.

The psalmist behind Psalm 7 has been falsely accused of a crime and is constantly surrounded by enemies who seek to destroy him. Though he was falsely accused of murder he is able to find peace in God by bringing his case to the best judge. Keep in mind that the protestations of innocence made by the Psalmist are not claims of perfection (he doesn't claim to be sinless), rather he is simply speaking out against false accusations.

7:2- Lions, though not present in that area today, were plentiful during the time of this Psalm. The Lion symbolizes power, cruelty, and ruthlessness.

7:5- The psalmist is not afraid of calling on a curse because he knows that he is innocent and God knows he is innocent.

7:6- Remember in Psalm chapter 3 when the psalmist used the phrase "arise" during the war Psalm? The phrase is used again here, calling on the Lord to fight for the innocent.

7:8- This plays into the Judicial setting of this psalm with God as the Judge. Because God is perfect and righteous, he will not bring judgement on the innocent, but he will punish the guilty.

7:14-15- Every sin has a consequence, whether it be a temporary physical consequence or an eternal spiritual consequence.

My prayer for this morning is going to come from the end of the Psalm 7. I pray that we "will give to the LORD the thanks due to his righteoussness, and we will sing praise to the name of the LORD. the Most High."