Pencil in His Hand: A Mother's Journal of Stories, Thoughts, and Poems.

  The Doily. Free Flash Fiction I selected the smallest crochet hook in my collection and observed it dubiously. It was as impossibly fine as the peacock blue crochet cotton in my hand. There was only one thing the cotton was good for: an old-fashioned doily. The kind that looks like a delicate and intricate spider's web. Impractical, yet fascinating.  I had a pattern. I had the right hook, and the right thread. But could I do it? My hands stiffened involuntarily at the thought of the cramping they would have to endure. All for a rather pointless item. Despite my doubts, I began. Somehow, several little rounds of chains and stitches formed between my fingers. The brilliant blue shone. My crochet hook flashed. I smiled. For the first time in days. And somehow, the delicate project became a symbol of fragile yet enduring hope. My faith and my joy seemed just as fragile as the thread between my fingers. Until I remembered how strong my hope really was: that no matter how dark thi...

  Her Name Is Hope Her name is Hope. She is the young woman with the plain, honest face, travelling to work each day, with faith in her heart that God will answer her prayers for a husband, children, and home. Her name is Hope. She is the sweet, faithful mom, hanging up her wash, the wind whipping through her hair. As she works, she prays that her husband and children will accept Jesus. Her name is Hope. She clings to Jesus' Hand as her marriage falters then shatters through her husband's unfaithfulness. She keeps walking and hoping because of Jesus. Her name is Hope. The news she received today at her cheerful kitchen table nearly crushed her; and tears fall unceasing: a son lost on the battlefield, a prodigal child driving the knife in deeper, a car accident, an ailing loved one. And yet, she hopes. She clings to Jesus. She does not understand. How could she? But she never stops hoping. She prays, she trusts. She looks up. And once more, as she hangs up her wash in the gentle...

  The Last Reminder "The world is going crazy, isn't it?" He turns his phone so she can see the news article. "Good thing our country's got a good nuclear program. Looks like it's going to be our only hope" Her smile is sad as she fingers the ring he gave her so many years ago. Part of her wants to keep quiet, but she obeys the prompting of the Spirit. "Our only hope is in Jesus and His soon return." Her voice is soft. Loving. After many mistakes it has gentled. He just grunts and turns back to the article. After a few moments though, he opens his mouth to comment, to say how naive she is, but her spot at the table is vacant. The scarf she was wearing is neatly draped over her chair, and   he catches the echoes of far away trumpets. *** Hebrews 11:5-6 ESV [5] By faith Enoch was taken up so that he should not see death, and he was not found, because God had taken him. Now before he was taken he was commended as having pleased God. [6] And withou...

  Photo: A Mc Key Ready for the Rapture Five year old Mason yelled as he ran through the house: "Mom! Sophie! Britt! Jeremy! Logan! Chase! Lily! Where are you?" The little boy had woken up from his nap to find his whole family gone. Had that thing happened that his mom spoke about? Had Jesus fetched everyone but him? "Mom!" Mason pulled hard on the kitchen door and hurtled down the steps. He raced through the small orchard, then came to an abrupt stop. His mother and all of his siblings were gathered in front of the neighbour's fence, admiring a new puppy. "Oh!" Later, as Mason snuggled beneath his covers, he asked his mother the question that had been turning in his brain all afternoon. "Mommy, how can I ask Jesus to take me up in the clouds too?" ***   My Testimony *** Copyright: pencil in His Hand New gardening post

  The Sowin' Flash Fiction Tallula followed her grandmother's instructions faithfully. Her fingers trembled slightly as she dropped each bean seed in place. How terrible if she were to fail. Her fingers ignored her attempts to still them until she recalled her grandmother's gentle yet confident words. Tallula sprinkled some fine lettuce seeds into her palm before scattering them on the composted earth. Then, she breathed a prayer as the wise words settled within her heart:  "Just do the sowin', sweetheart. You just do the sowin'. It's the Lord Who does the growin'." *** My Testimony Copyright: pencil in His Hand New gardening post

  A short story, plus more Field of Healing The grim memory resurfaced as Faye surveyed her back yard. Still photographs paraded through her mind: black and white, in keeping with the pathos of that day. In one, her mother was drawing up a plan of how she wanted things to be: perfect, neat, pristine, easily maintained. Boring. The next snap shot; an image of her mother directing her father. Her shrill voice accompanying the memory. "No, George, it must be chopped out. Otherwise it will just grow back again and make more work." And, "Yes, I want the grass gone too. I've called the garden services. It's going to cost more than I want to pay, but it will be worth it." The next scene brought the most pain. "But mommy, can't we keep it? Where will the butterflies and ladybirds live if you dig everything up?" Faye had hoped her mother would miss the wild patch of garden behind the shed. She'd always considered it to be hers: a little wonderland o...

  Monday Medley: Two Stories, A Poem, And More Two Stories, plus a  poem and some thoughts and photos in this longer post Dear Readers, I thought it might be a nice idea to go back to posting several short items in one post. Hopefully every reader will find something that speaks to them.  This week, I am posting a flash fiction piece which was written to encourage folks to think about their eternal destiny. We are living in such troubled times, and I can't shake the feeling that the Lord's return is very near. Please take a moment to ask some very big questions today. My own spiritual journey began when I woke up out of the stupor I was in and began to ask questions like "Is there a God?" And "Where will I go when I die?" There is nothing worse than to go through life in a haze, numbly entertaining and scrolling oneself towards the grave. The enemy of our souls just loves it when we live like this. I pray that we will all take life and eternity a lot more se...

  Inspirational flash fiction The Teddy Bear: Flash Fiction "It must be nice to be so loved." Ava stroked the cute bear Hunter had given me on Valentine's Day. I smiled gently. "It is." Instead of putting the bear back, Ava hugged it close. "I've often wondered what it feels like to be cherished." I heard the tremor in her voice, then, praying for wisdom, I touched her hand. "Do you remember how Mom would make us our favourite cake and meal each birthday? And how she'd somehow find the exact present we wanted?" Ava smiled. "Yes. She made me feel so loved. Somehow, I could feel Jesus' love for me in her smile; her actions." I sat beside her and cut us each a generous slice of chocolate cake. Mom's recipe. Sunlight bathed my kitchen in sweet memories and Jesus' love. "Happy birthday dear Ava, happy birthday to you!" *** Dearest Reader, Do you long for love? For a deep, abiding love? Well, that's the k...

  Inspirational flash Fiction The Clock: Flash Fiction Only one piece had made it back to his apartment after the big clean up. His grandfather had moved on to his heavenly home; to Jesus, the Lord he'd served for many years. Logan had been assigned to the task of sorting through the elderly man's possesions. That one piece, was a small, ornate clock, which now stood on his desk. Logan noted that it seemed to be keeping time well, and now and again, his ears would tune in to its soft ticking as he worked at his computer. Its ticking dimmed into the background as his work day progressed, and later, as he banged a couple of pots and chopped an onion. But the ticking of the clock faded completely as he sat back to enjoy some videos and play his favourite game. Logan forgot about the small addition to his  home as his day wound down. Finally, he climbed into bed, ready for a good sleep.  It was then that the clock made its prescence felt: tick, tock, tick, tock. Logan changed...

  Free coffee break read. Welcome! Salvation Stories: Mattie Mattie's finger moved rythmically as she scrolled through her feed. It was her lunch break, so she didn't have much time. Despite her need to eat and rest, her slave driver of a phone glared insistantly at her: keep looking! Keep scrolling! Mattie caught a glimpse of a Christian post as she scrolled on: something about Jesus being the only way. Her mind fired up for a moment. Could the claim be true? Was Jesus the only way to Heaven? A little further on, she paused at a video: an advertisement for a well known Bible app. Mattie pushed her phone away and finished her lukewarm coffee. She allowed her mind free reign whilst she did so. Her phone showed she had ten minutes left. Mattie grabbed the device. Her thumbs moved with lightning speed: click, click, click. And then, Mattie tapped the download button next to the Bible app that Toby used. She opened it and read the verse of the day: John 14:6 ESV [6] Jesus said to h...

  Flash fiction One Problem too Many I pressed the laptop power button. Nothing. This can't be happening. I groaned. So many things have gone wrong already this week. The kitten looked at me quizically with his bright eyes. He was the only one paying attention. The children were oblivious: they were not the ones who had to replace broken items around the home. I slumped in my chair and mentally ticked off all of our recent problems: one: a flat tyre. Two: a broken pair of glasses. Three: a toaster that had given up the ghost. And now this. "What's wrong, Mom?" Cheryl had entered the room. "The laptop had better not be broken. I need it for school, and I want to play games." I sighed. "I'll try to turn it on again, but something's not right." Cheryl let out a groan, then went to tell the others. I poked the button. Hard. Nothing. Pushy jumped up onto my lap and I stroked him while he kneeded and purred. Oh, to be a cat, I thought. I stared a...

   Inspirational fiction Up and Away I sighed. Yet another problem. Another burden to add to the already growing pile. With God's help, I was still standing somehow; yes, even walking. That was the miracle. If I didn't have Jesus living in me, I most definitely wouldn't be. But, I was human, and it wasn't easy.  The first, and one of the largest burdens was my marriage to Jim: a marriage marred by alcohol abuse, and all of the woes that accompany addiction. The beginning years had been less strained, and  the addition of three children had not been burdensome at first. And of course, by God's grace alone, I was rescued from the rubbish dump of my sinful existance by Jesus back then. The shining pinacle of my life.  Jesus brought life and light, and yes, even joy into our struggling family. Even when my husband rejected the Good News I shared with him, I carried on loving him and serving him . But only because of Jesus. With Jesus at my side, I taught my daughter...

  The Book: Flash Fiction. Coffee break read. :) *** May flipped her dark red hair over her shoulder and sat down next to Ursula with a sigh. The tower of books on the table threatened to further spoil an already depressing day. Ursula glanced up briefly from her own pile. "I feel for you friend. Three essays in one week is murder." She scribbled busily on her writing pad then smiled cheerfully. "But do-able." "For  you, perhaps." May flipped her hair once more. "Hey, what's that book?" She gestured at the thick volume that lay open before Ursula. Ursula leaned forward. "Just  the most vilified and criticised book around here. You could say that it's virtually banned." She lifted the cover so that her friend could read the gold lettering on it. "Our lecturers refer to the Bible in order to attack it, but they don't make it part of our reading requirement. That's hardly fair." May grimaced. "We have a Bible...

  Cassie's Calling: Flash Fiction My Mom, Averil Foxcroft and I The proud mother strapped her little one into the stroller, then tucked a baby blue blanket around her. They were all set for a walk around the sun-bathed garden. Baby wore a cute sun hat as well as a bib for any unexpected mishaps. Cassie made a slow circuit around the swimming pool, being careful to dodge any bumps as well as Arthur the cat with his proud stare and Tessie, the white bull terrier, with her understanding doggie smile. “No, Tessie. Don’t come too close. Baby is sleeping. No doggie kisses either. You can walk along with us if you want to though.” The faithful pet happily agreed and walked beside the pram as Cassie did another lap around the pool. When Arthur placed an exploratory paw on the blanket, Tessie nosed him out of the way and was rewarded with a “good dog!” by the little mother.  When Cassie had determined that her infant had absorbed enough sunshine for the day, she headed back to the hous...

  Flash Fiction, A Poem, Garden Glimpses, & an Update In this post: a mini inspirational story, a poem, plus what's up in my garden, and a blog and writing update . A sparrow, yet loved and counted. Photo: Ratanjot Singh.Unsplash. Little One The little one watches from her spot in the old apple tree. She peeks through the canopy of bright green leaves and ruby globes. She watches while resting in shady, cool, calm. She stares at the rushing, busy, blurry people. Where are they going? Why so rushed? People of all sizes and styles, yet all with the same harried, frazzled, furrowed frowns. She cocks her head, then fluffs her feathers: just a little sparrow, yet loved, fed, and counted. While people rush and worry, she lives, and breathes, and feeds, and flies; before she falls, and softly dies.  In Him. *** End of Self Now at end of self, decided: Give my all to You. Lay down each rock, and burden, sin: and start each day anew. *** Garden Glimpses January here in the southern...