And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.'But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’ -Luke 12:19 & 20, NIV
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“Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” -Mark 7:28, NIV Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? -Matthew 6:26, NIV But Israel reached out his right hand and put it on Ephraim’s head. He did it even though Ephraim was the younger son. He crossed his arms and put his left hand on Manasseh’s head. He did it even though Manasseh was the older son. -Genesis 48:14, NIRV Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me—a foreigner? -Ruth 2:10, NIV As Ruth kept reading the newspaper, Holden forced himself to remember her. Something from her look was different...ethereal...unique. And not that old-people, gray hair unique that people are worrying to have when they hit old age. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”, he asked to the old Ruth. “Why, yes, my dear”, she responded. It was right too early for an elderly woman to travel across town in a train, so Holden's gesture was very much appreiated. For a moment, Ruth kept chuckling, and that lifted Holden's spirits in some sort of way. Stop #1 became her first job at a Jewish deli. Stop #2, the dry cleaners close to her best friend's apartment. Stop #3, the beauty shop they gunned down a couple of times because it became a meth lab at night. Stop #4, the junior college she began studying when she gave up working menial jobs and minimum wage. And 5 and 6 and 7 and 8. But nine... she never dared. In some sort of way, she remembered the first time she arrived to this city. Broken, poor, young and widowed, with no one to share the rest of her life with. A beautiful woman, but scorned and scarred by life. There was a dream she had to follow whatever the cost. And of course, no one understood her, they thought she was crazy and impulsive and stupid and still depressed. On the first eve of her husband's passing, Ruth couldn't handle the pain. She didn't have any money for the landlord, much less a shrink. Depression mixed in with copious quantities of Johnny Walker and Rohypnol -not very classy. Ruth felt blinded...fragil...alone. The only thing between her and death was a knife and David Letterman. And not even Letterman could feel her pain every time he said, “Well, earlier in the day...” Her face ran every time she took a swig of whiskey with a hand-picked pill from the counter. (At least, it'll hurt, but not that hard!) Come 11:30, 11:45, 11:55...nothing. Looks like she either had no remedy: either the whiskey was doing too much, or it was time to end it with blood. Ruth took a knife from the kitchen top. She quietly sat on the floor, looking at the cracked ceiling filled with termites in heat. Her head rested on a pillow, her pillow smoothened on the side. And Ruth continued playing with the knife, crying on a pillow, saying, “It's too late for me, it's too late for me, it's too late for me.” With a strike to her gut, she played with the force. May she rest in-- Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong! “Miss Ruth, Miss Ruth, Miss Ruth! We need your help!” To Be Continued...
Distress and anguish fill him with terror; troubles overwhelm him, like a king poised to attack, because he shakes his fist at God and vaunts himself against the Almighty, defiantly charging against him with a thick, strong shield. -Job 15: 24-26, NIV Ella dijo: Iré contigo; mas no será tuya la gloria de la jornada que emprendes, porque en mano de mujer venderá Jehová a Sísara. -Jueces 4:9a, RV1960 I will certainly go with you, but you should know from the beginning that this battle will not lead to your personal glory. The Eternal has decreed that the mighty Sisera will be defeated by a woman. -Judges 4:8, VOICE |
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